#localized entirely within your kitchen?

[changing-my-username]

Everyone: *Getting cool pictures of Aurora Borealis*

The sky whenever I try and see it:

[madfanatic]

AURORA BOREALIS?! I really love this time of the year <3

[prismatica-the-strange]

Since you asked for Bernard and Charity prompts…👀👀 how about a scenario where Bernard and Charity watch the aurora borealis (the northern lights) together?? 💜

"Bernard," Charity huffs as she trudges behind him in the snow, "Why are we out here? It's like negative eighty."

He slows down to wrap his arm around her shivering shoulders, "It'll be worth it, I promise."

They crest a small hill just as colors start to swirl and mix in the sky.

He smiles when he looks over to find her staring up at them in awe.

"I know it's been a long time since you've seen the Northern Lights," he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

"I forgot how pretty they were."

[rebecca-iversen]

Aurora borealis!?

[devon1on]

Space Engine is beautiful, and the universe is unfathomably, horrifyingly, vast and empty.

[stargazing-kitsune]

Drew this on my phone because I cannot sit in front of a pc, am very proud of it.

[zanarkandskylines]

Hollow Heart { chapter 1 - hurricane }

『♡』 pro-hero fem!reader x pro-hero bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ pro-heroes au | friends to lovers ꒱ ♡ katsuki bakugo masterlist ♡

summary: The dynamic duo of Dynamight and Deku are unstoppable, climbing the hero charts like they always dreamed of as kids. Their journeys were tough, but offered them the world - fame, fortune, protection of their family and friends, a comfortable hero life. The recent increase in crime around Tokyo kept their entire sector busy, sending heroes out non-stop, desperate to keep the statistics as low as possible to maintain a clean reputation. When a nearby sector is requesting assistance, the boys are tasked with a mission to inspect a villain’s lair in a deserted area outside of the city. Reports have noted people going missing, specifically with rare quirks. With plenty of other heroes being unavailable, you’re chosen to tag along with the duo for the night operation. Everything is going according to plan until the villain lands a surprise attack, resulting in the your kidnapping and whisking you away through a mysterious portal. It’s been a month since your disappearance with no help of the hero agency. Bakugo and Midoriya take it into their own hands and are determined to get you back - no matter how long or what it takes. tags & warnings: mentions of blood/violence, eventual & mild smut, kidnapping/abduction, experimentation, physical & psychological torture, PTSD, implied/referenced self harm, cursing, talks of trauma | angst with happy ending, emotional hurt/comfort, regret, mutual pining, friends to lovers, insomnia, eventual romance a/n: Prepare for the heartbreaking journey of Bakugo battling with his feelings when it’s too late…or is it? :) ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; ~20.6k as of ch.4 ꒱ Chapter 1 | Hurricane [5,092k] Chapter 2 | The Ghost of You [4,799k] Chapter 3 | Choke [3,995k] Chapter 4 | The Grey [6,756k] Chapter 5 | The Good Left Undone Chapter 6 | Tourniquet Chapter 7 | There is Fear in Letting Go 『♡』 this fic has a playlist! ✩

CHAPTER ONE: HURRICANE

A beautiful summer morning, rays of tangerine light poured into the living room of your apartment as you sleepily make your way to the kitchen, desperate for that first cup of coffee. The clock on the stove read 8:35AM - the latest you’ve overslept in the last month. It was another long night in the office, writing reports for your previous week’s hero patrols that you’d put off for far too long. You'd think someone else would be responsible for inputting notes into the agency's system, but no - anyone below rank 10 was tasked with entering in their own data. 

Criminal activity in the area had increased significantly within the last 3 months, calling heroes of all ranks out nonstop, especially lower ranked heroes. Was it annoying? Sure, being awoken in the middle of the night out of a dead sleep to go stop a small robbery at the local late-night supermarket wasn't ideal. Especially when you dreamed of dealing with bigger threats, akin to crime syndicates and large scale villain organizations. As a hero, you’re taught to tune out the small details and focus on what’s in front of you - keeping the citizens of your ward safe and sound, even if it's helping a granny cross the street in the middle of the afternoon.

The agency accepted you with open arms right out of UA High, over the moon to have a hero with a quirk like yours in their roster. Psionic energy manipulation was shockingly uncommon amongst the 80% of the population of quirk users. The kinetic hero, Y/H/N, ranked number 37 - high enough to earn respect from your peers and low enough to not have to worry about being followed by paparazzi and negotiating brand deals. Cities were full of billboards with ads sponsored by heroes, heavily focused on those in the top 10 for allure to their product. Deku and Dynamight’s athletic wear collaboration, Uravity’s mochi bites, Shouto’s fire and ice energy drinks - it was impossible to avoid. Did you wish you had the smallest bit of spotlight? Sometimes, but being able to walk the streets off-duty and not be bothered was a luxury you'd like to keep. On the counter, your phone buzzed and flashed awake, shaking you out of the sleepy stupor.

Incoming Call: Katsuki Bakugo 

A picture of you and Bakugo appeared on to the caller ID screen - one of your favorite pictures with him. It was from a concert in Shibuya you'd attended a few months back. His arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as he flipped off the camera, wearing his infamous toothy smirk as you leaned against him with a small peace sign and a warm smile. 

It's unfair how effortlessly attractive he was. Admittedly, you'd had a crush on him since high school and drank up every ounce of affection he threw your way over the years. Even though you've known him and Midoriya since childhood, your friendship didn't truly blossom until your first year in UA. Thanks to your tenacity and fighting spirit, he respected you after a long six months. That broke down his walls just enough to tolerate you and continue to be friends ever since. 

You, Midoriya, and Bakugo became three peas in pod, a strong bond established to last a lifetime. Post-UA life wasn’t as easy to see each other, but you made it work - trainings, missions, conflicting work schedules, and general life couldn’t get in between the three of you, even if it was just over texts, phone calls and late-night movie marathons. It helped that you all lived in Tokyo, at least. Midoriya, of course, was extremely special and essential to your life. He’s like the little brother you always wanted and a constant ray of sunshine, always there for whatever you need. There was just something different and special about your bond with Bakugo - a spark, without sounding cliche. And after all these years later, he's still your favorite person and one of your best friends. 

You wouldn't trade it for the world. Oh shit, I forgot we planned to go for a run this morning. You answer hesitantly, knowing full well you’re about to get an earful about being late. 

“Yo, Y/N, you plan on showin' up anytime soon?” There was shockingly no annoyance in his tone. “It’s almost 9.”

“Sorry Kat! I overslept. Had a long night writing reports in the office. I’ll be there in 10,” you say, not making any excuses. You hear a loud tch in response - ah, there’s the annoyance.

“I was about to bust down your door and give you a personal wake up call,” he teases, laughing to himself. “Get your ass to the park. See ya, lite-brite.” The line ended with a click. 

He'd never let that nickname go, one that followed you all the way back from high school. You'd grown used to it as he typically reserved it to get under your skin or light a fire under your ass. Most of the time? It worked - and you liked it.

Setting the coffee cup in the sink, you jog back into your room down the hallway and change into a clean set of workout clothes. You'd just gotten the PR package from Midoriya last week with his new sports wear collaboration with Bakugo, saving you time by not having to dig through your laundry pile. He would have scolded you for slacking on chores if he were to have woken you up in person, and then folded it himself to prove a point. He’d often harp on you for not keeping up with basic shit around your place, but in the same breath, start cleaning up for you - it was one of his love languages. 

The company they collaborated with nailed the designs perfectly. It was minimalistic, but still paid homage to their hero costumes. You grab Bakugo's set - a cropped black sleeveless hoodie with an orange 'X' across the front, a forest green band with a drawstring around the midsection, and an orange hood. The matching shorts were all black with a simple orange stripe down the sides. The neoprene material allowed for the set to breathe in any weather condition.

Thankfully, the park you were meeting him at was only a couple minute walk from your apartment building. Not long after pulling your hair into a ponytail, splashing your face with water and brushing your teeth, you're kicking on your sneakers by the door and shuffling out of the apartment. A few minutes to spare, you duck into the convenience store along the way, grabbing two sports drinks and a bag of his favorite spicy-flavored chips. God, you hated the taste of them and never understood why he liked them so much. Some part of you jokingly thought it fueled his already explosive personality, literally heating him up from the inside.

───

"You wear that on purpose?" Bakugo snickers over his phone as you skip toward him, pointing to your workout gear. 

"What can I say? It's comfortable. Happy to be a walking ad for the number four hero," you say, elbowing him in the arm. He rolls his eyes, snatching the sports drink you've outstretched to him and mutters a thanks. 

"You should model our next set," he pats you on the back. "You're the perfect fit." 

You scoff, waving a hand at him. "Yeah, like I'm model material."

"I literally just said you were, dumbass. Take a damn compliment!" 

He peers over your shoulder to see the chips in your bag. "Damn, you're really kissing up to me today. What's the occasion?" He's beaming over the attention you're showering him with - he'd never admit how much he loved it.

You shake your head playfully. "What, I can't spoil my favorite person?" 

Bakugo barks out a laugh while opening the sports drink and chugging half of it in one go. Again, it was stupid how attractive he was, no matter what he did. The summer breeze made his blonde locks dance lazily in the morning sun, a sheen on his flawless skin as some of the liquid spilled out of the corner of his mouth, trickling down his jawline. A sadistic part of you thought he did this shit on purpose to rile you up, testing the boundaries of your friendship. 

If only you had the nerve to just scream from the rooftops - Katsuki, I fucking love you.

“You good, Y/N?” He's waving a hand in front of your face. “Space case much?”

“Yeah! Sorry, apparently still waking up,” you apologize while stretching your arms over your head. “Let’s go!”

───

An hour later, you and Bakugo finish your run in the park, completely drenched in sweat. The two of you plop under a nearby tree in the shade, the humidity adding a layer of exhaustion to your depleted stamina. Lazily slouching over onto your shoulder, he steals the sports drink out of your hand and downs the rest of it himself with a satisfied hah. Somehow, you always forget that he smells like caramel and burnt sugar after a run, invading your senses with that sweet essence that you loved. His bangs stuck to the sweat on his forehead as he dropped his head back against the tree, eyes closed as he caught his breath. 

God, he’s so fucking beautiful, you think to yourself, almost afraid he'd somehow hear you.

"I'm free the rest of the day," he comments between shallow breaths, lazily opening one eye and elbowing your side. "Down for a movie day? Been awhile."

"Hell yeah. Junk food, too?" Your eyes light up with excitement.

"Like you gotta ask. I didn't run three fuckin' miles just to look good," he quips. "Cool if I shower at your place?"

That catches you off guard, sending a flutter of butterflies off in your stomach. Why the hell are you so riled up today? Sure, you've had a massive crush on your best friend for ages, but its usually not this intense. Must be the scent of his sweat deluding your thoughts...or maybe it’s the potential scene of watching him walk out into your living room, shirtless - excess water cascading down his hourglass figure, tracing his abs and settling into the hem of his sweatpants.

Stop it! Calm the fuck down.

"S-sure. I have a pair of your sweats, I think…maybe Izuku’s? It’s like you guys leave your shit at my place so I do your laundry for free." 

He shoves you jokingly, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Hah! Knew it was you who stole my favorite pair. I’ve got shit with me, no worries.”

Bakugo climbs to his feet, extending a hand back to you. “C’mon, I’m fucking starving and dying to do nothing the rest of the day.”

───

The sunset’s sorbet-colored afterglow flooded the living room as the fourth movie’s credits rolled on the TV screen, a faint warm breeze coming through the open balcony door. The two of you had settled in after your run, marathoning through a collection of films you'd be wanting to watch, surrounded by a buffet of comfort food - taiyaki, meat buns, spicy fried chicken bites, mabo tofu, yakitori, and a box full of various flavors of dango. The cashier at the convenience store must have thought you two were hosting an insane party with how much food you bought, cleaning out their entire hot foods section in minutes. 

Bakugo stretched out like a cat, his abs flexing as his black tank top moved up his midsection. It was impossible not to stare, especially when he wore cropped shirts, showing off his hard earned muscles. You found it ironic how you mentioned once - and only once - how crop tops on guys are attractive as hell, and a few weeks later? He had a handful of them that he’d rotate wearing during the summer, claiming he only wears them for “regulating his temperature for his quirk.” You knew that was a bold-faced lie, but never called him on it. Why would you risk making him change his mind when they looked so good on him? 

He let out a satisfactory groan, putting his feet up on the coffee table and hands behind his head. You stretch as well, throwing your feet in his lap like always. Bakugo looked comfortable, like he was at home. You were home to him.

“I got somethin’ on my face?” He jokes, lolling his head to face you. 

Lost in thought, you have no time to stop the words falling from your mouth.

“No, just admiring you.”

Bakugo quirks an eyebrow, surprised by your flattery. You see a faint pink blush begin to make it’s way across his cheeks, an extremely rare sight.

“Th-thanks,” is all he can muster to say in a low voice. 

“Is that so weird to say? You’re gorgeous, Katsuki,” you blurt out, shocked by your own words. Where the hell is this coming from? You normally weren't so...forward. Not that you were lying in any capacity. You've complimented him plenty times before, why is now different? 

Right?

You pause, realizing you could be overwhelming him. He'd always been adamant on how much he hates when "fans" view him as just a sex object rather than respect him as a heroic figure. 

“I know you hate being objectified. I’m sorry -,”

“Don’t be, y’didn't.” 

The static of the TV hummed through the lull in your conversation, the credits of the last movie approaching the end of its sequence. You nervously fiddle with the hem of your shirt. Thank fuck he can't hear your thoughts.

Bakugo notices your nervous tick and grins. That damn shit-eating grin. 

"Relax, Y/N. I didn't say I didn't like it. Big difference between you and a fan girl sayin' shit like that." 

As he’s about to continue the conversation, both of your phones ring simultaneously. That’s weird…it’s 8:30PM on a Tuesday night. Neither of you were scheduled for patrol and all sectors had coverage from the last e-mail update. You pull your phone out to check the caller ID and sigh in annoyance.

Incoming Call: AGENCY - EMERGENCY LINE

“The fuck?” Bakugo huffs, his brow furrowed in confusion. 

───

After 15 minutes, you're debriefed with a new mission, and strangely, you’re assigned with none other than Bakugo and Midoriya. This was extremely uncommon for heroes of top 10 rank to work with those below rank 25 and only happened when other top 10 heroes are too busy. Emergency calls were normally automated messages, but this was a personal conference call from the board of directors.

We are in need of Y/H/N to assist Dynamight and Deku’s mission to stake out a villain’s laboratory tonight in Sector 42. We’ve received reports of civilians going missing near the area over the last few weeks, specifically those with uncommon and rare quirks. There is a probability that hostages are being using for the development of a secret serum, to which is unknown at this time. Report to the agency by 11:30PM for further instruction.

Man, you were really looking forward to more time with Bakugo. Granted, you’ll still be with him, but now you’ll be stalking around for work, not stuffing your face on the couch together.

“Kat, I don’t know what it is, but I…I have a really weird feeling about this stake out,” you admit, unsure of where this anxiety is coming from. This isn’t the first time you’ve been assigned to a mission like this, and certainly won’t be the last, there was just something odd in the air surrounding this one. 

“Yeah. Go grab your suit, I’ll call Izuku to meet us here and we'll go over together,” Bakugo says hesitantly, already dialing Midoriya and bringing his phone to his ear. 

“Hey, yeah just got the call. Y/N and I are at her apartment, swing by and we'll go to the agency together.”

───

By 11:45PM, the three of you are suited up and stationed in Sector 42. The area was very…barren? It was confusing to you how people would wander out here and disappear. It was in the middle of nowhere, miles from the city limits, an open field surrounded by a spotty tree line. Something still felt off about this entire set up - a gut feeling, but it was enough to keep you on edge.

“Y/N?” Midoriya called to you, blinking with concern. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.”

You rub your temple, desperately trying to push the feeling down. 

“Sorry, Izu. I’ve had a gut feeling something was wrong since the phone call.”

“What do you mean?” His interest is peaked, both out of curiosity and concern. 

“Can’t place it, but I feel it, too. Something’s not right,” Bakugo chimed in, surveying the field for any signs of…whatever the hell it was they’re looking for. An entrance to a lab? Masked minions abducting people? The agency was extremely vague in their details. That didn’t sit well with you, and Bakugo now, too. 

“You’re not wrong. This is an open area in the middle of nowhere. Why would anyone wander out here alone?” Midoriya muttered, continuing a conversation with his own thoughts aloud. “It's not a common road for travel, by foot or by vehicle. And how would the agency know what this villain is making without having the location of the lab in question?”

The abrupt sound of creaking metal echoed around you, a sense of danger spiking in your nerves. You place a hand on the shoulder of both Midoriya and Bakugo to halt them in their tracks.

“Did you hear that? It sounded like a door was opening…close by,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Whoosh!

You didn’t register there was another presence amongst you until the dart made contact with your skin. A warming sensation flowed through your right shoulder as you let out a cry, stumbling to your knee. What the fuck? Your hero suit was designed to prevent piercing damage to a degree, but this dart cut right through it. The dart resembled a syringe, automatically activating the injection mechanism as it pierced your skin.

“Y/N!” Midoriya shouted, immediately wrapping an arm around your waist to whisk you away from another potential attack. Bakugo whipped his head around, looking for any sign of where the dart came from. Was someone hiding, or was it a device hidden out of sight? Maybe in a nearby tree? That's not possible, these trees don't have enough leaves for coverage like that.

“Hold still, I’m going to pull it out,” Midoriya warned. You braced for the pain as he yanked the dart from your shoulder, tossing it out of reach. You wince, the sting slowly fading a few seconds later. “Are you feeling okay?”

Things were starting to feel fuzzy, the ache spreading rapidly through the rest of your body. Everything felt warm and cold simultaneously, as if your body was at war over what temperature to settle on. 

“I’m alright, just…dizzy,” you mumble, slurring as you attempt to reassure him.

Midoriya helps you to your feet, offering to let you use him as support. You wave a hand, muttering over and over again I’m fine, I’m fine. There’s a pulsing sensation starting to build in your shoulder, creeping its way through your right arm. It’s tingling, crawling - uncomfortable, but not painful. What the hell was in that dart? 

A flash of black invades your vision, throwing you off balance as things pixelate and sharpen repeatedly before completely disappearing. Things are spinning and your senses are dulling. You notice that you don’t hear Bakugo or Midoriya anymore…did they wander off? You should be able to hear explosions, gusts of wind, crackling energy - something.

A force knocks you on your back, slamming you to the ground. You don’t feel a damn thing, just a vague numbness as your body, what you presume, hits the ground. You can’t make out whatever, or whoever, it is that is attacking you. I still can’t hear anything! Can you speak? Can anyone hear you even if you could?

…Y…N! …Y/N!

A voice? It’s muffled, but you hear someone calling for you. Was that Midoriya?

“Let her go, jackass!”

Oh no, that’s Bakugo. 

His booming voice reverberates through your head, sending your thoughts whirling in a vortex more than they already were. A vision of the battlefield was starting coming into focus, hazy, but a semblance of scenery was making its way back to you. When did I get up from the ground? Didn't I get knocked down? 

The field before you was littered with debris.

…Branches and broken stumps of dead trees.

…Craters in the ground.

…are those broken pieces of Bakugo’s gauntlets? 

…patchy trails and puddles of blood soaking into the dirt.

The sights sent a chill up your spine - your gut instinct was right. 

To your right, Midoriya panted with force as he held onto his thigh, blood seeping through his suit and staining around the wound. He was close enough that you could see the detailing of his tendons exposed from the impact, frayed pieces of skin hanging from the damage. His hair was slicked back, matted with a mix of, what you think, is dirt and blood. The rest of his suit had a variety of slashes and cuts, the material tattered and torn all over his body.

To your left, Bakugo’s on the ground, battered and bruised as he’s struggling to get to his feet. His gauntlets were missing, along with the glove underneath on his right hand. His exposed forearm was beat red, what looked like hand prints blistering the area. Blood trickled from his forehead and pooled under his mask. He’s shouting again…you can’t quite make out what he’s saying as he’s extending his bare arm in your direction.

What the fuck happened?! 

Something inside you clicks abruptly, adrenaline surging, urging you to fight. It’s competing with the numbness in your muscles. How much damage have you taken if you can’t feel a damn thing?

Fuck. Come on, dammit. Move, fight - do something! Help them!

In your peripheral vision, a man appears beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turn on your heel, ready to activate your quirk and blast this guy into oblivion. Your hand meets his clothed chest with a thump.

Nothing happens. 

Your quirk doesn’t activate.

Another swing, focusing all the energy you have into a concentrated blast.

Nothing.

Panic sets in as you study your hand, mortified that you’ve been rendered useless. Your mind is racing faster than you can keep up with. Is this the serum they talked about earlier? How long was I unconscious...was I even unconscious? 

And then it dawns on you - it’s a quirk suppressant. 

The serum they’re using to abduct people nullifies their quirks to make them a willing target.

The mystery man cups your chin, forcing you to look up at him. Your vision tunnels on his face, the rest of your body shutting back down. You feel your arms flop to their sides as your knees begin to buckle - the adrenaline being zapped from your muscles at his touch. 

“Good, it’s setting in. You’ll be a decent specimen. We’ve been waiting for a psionics user like you to add to our roster.”

A giant swirl of matter begins to manifest in front of you, a gentle force sucking you closer to it’s entry point. You can't help but think about how helpless you look in this moment, confused as hell that this scrawny man could take down three heroes with ease. You fucking hated the feeling, never wanting to be the damsel in distress. It pissed you off beyond belief.

“It’s time.” The man, in what you can now see is a white lab coat, turns you around to face the boys sprawled on the battlefield. “We’ll be going now.”

Every inch of your body is screaming run. But you can’t. You can’t move, paralyzed by all the conflicting effects of the serum running rampant through your veins. Your vision is dimming once more, your eyes threaten to close as Bakugo’s voice drags you back to reality. Your eyes snap open as he appears in front of you, digging his heels into the dirt. 

“Hey, wake up! I’m not letting you go!” 

He’s screaming at the top of his lungs, pleading for you to hear him as he clutches your forearm, attempting to pull you to him. You can’t feel it, but by the strain shown in his bicep, he’s using all of his strength to hold onto you. His eyes are full of panic, wide and bloodshot, crimson irises aflame.

"Let her fucking go!" he roars a second time. His hand is slipping down your forearm, now desperately gripping onto your hand. You attempt to grasp it to no avail, your strength failing you. You hear him let out an anxious grunt, struggling against the force of whatever is pulling you away behind you.

Time seems to slow as you lock eyes, an exchange of unspoken words between you two. A sense of dread begins to flood through your body as you see tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.

He's terrified. 

You remember a thought from earlier in the day, if only I could scream "I love you."

There will never be a perfect moment, never a time and place for you to say it. You have to create the moment yourself.

A steady breath escapes you, softly gazing at Bakugo as you see his fingers slipping through your own.

"Katsuki," you mouth, barely able to hear the sound of your own voice.

"I love you."

The last thing you see is Bakugo frantically scrambling toward you before darkness envelops your sight.

- - - BAKUGO POV - - -

Everything happened in the blink of a fucking eye.

Ambushed, both him and Midoriya were hazed with a mysterious smoke, rendering their quirks useless. His explosions fizzled out as he fought the onslaught of henchmen surrounding them, armed with various weapons. The two of them blitzed through a good number of them before quickly becoming overwhelmed - 25 on 2 wasn't ideal odds.

Their hero suits were ripped, equipment shattered as they were punched, kicked, stabbed at, battered, and thrown around.

"I don't need my fuckin' quirk to kick your asses!" Bakugo threatened as he swiped at a nameless henchmen, nailing a right hook to his jaw. Midoriya was holding his own behind him until he let out an agonizing yelp, falling to the ground audibly.

"Deku!" Bakugo called out, spinning in the direction of his cry as someone socked him from the left side. He skid onto the ground, particles of dirt trailing behind him.

Regaining his composure, he looked around to see that all of the henchmen had swiftly disappeared without a trace, as if they were never there in the first place. What the fuck?

He saw her body standing still, some man in a lab coat behind her. She resembled a lifeless puppet, the light from her eyes dim and limbs loosely at her sides. It looked as though she could collapse at any moment.

"Let her go, jackass!" Bakugo shouted, unable to get to his feet.

The unknown man gripped her shoulder as a large black mass appeared behind them. 

Is that a portal? That looks like Kurogiri's quirk from years ago, he thought to himself, willing every fiber of his being to get to his fucking feet.

He's able to muster enough strength get one knee off the ground, enough to launch in range of her and wildly grasp for her hand. 

“Hey, wake up! I’m not letting you go!” 

Bakugo doesn't realize he's screaming, he's acting on impulse and adrenaline - desperation to save her. His hand is slipping at an agonizingly slow pace, moving from forearm to her hand, hardly able to keep his hand clasped with hers. He's cursing internally, hoping that she can't see the terror in his eyes, the anxiety filling him to the brim. That's when he hears her speak, her voice hauntingly quiet.

"Katsuki, I love you."

His hand slips away, watching her disappear into the portal. It closes in an instant as he's hopelessly dashing to it, not noticing that Midoriya is charging from behind him. They briefly collide, stumbling from the impact before they both steady themselves. 

The silence surrounding them is deafening.

"Kacchan," Midoriya snivels, head hung low. "I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough to help." His voice was breaking, clenching his fists at his side.

Bakugo stares at his hand, collapsing to his knees. He felt nauseous, the crippling realization churning in his stomach.

I love you.

Her voice ricocheted through his head, bouncing around as it tugged hard at his heartstrings. An overwhelming sensation of loss fills his heart, refusing to come to terms with the current reality. 

A brief memory flooded into Bakugo's mind, reminding him of a feeling he'd long shoved away. One night - years ago - at his brand new apartment in Tokyo, they'd been up all night talking after the long day of moving his shit into the place. It was 3AM, boxes piled everywhere as they laid in his bed, bullshitting the night away with random talks of life. She started a vulnerable conversation of mental health amongst heroes, ranging from her own family issues and medicated struggles as examples of not knowing what people deal with beneath the surface. He'd been listening, watching as she poured her heart out next to him, able to smile through it all. It was in that moment that struck him like lightning - he'd fallen madly and irrevocably in love with her. He had convinced himself there was no way she would have felt the same, forcing himself to suffocate that feeling for years.

And he was wrong.

Midoriya crouched down beside him as he's lost in the memory, a hand on his shoulder. 

"We'll find her, Kacchan, don't worry," he attempts to declare confidently as his own tears are staining his cheeks. "She's strong, she'll be -,"

"She said she loved me." Bakugo's facade was shattering before his eyes as he watched his best friend crumble onto the ground, clutching his chest. He couldn't control the wail that escaped him, tears pouring from his eyes like the downpour of a rainstorm. 

Midoriya pulled him close, Bakugo falling limply into him, curling into a ball as they sobbed together.

and thus begins the traumatic story of bakugo and midoriya losing their best friend to a mystery portal to nowhere!

Divider by : @/saradika

[todayontumblr]

yes, I should be...

[tightjeansjavi]

The Rite of Movement | drabble

“Takeout 🥡”

A/N: I sent @strang3lov3 post shower titty pics in my takeout undies…and then she said I should write baby love wearing those said panties around Joel 🤭 so I did the mf thing and wrote it! P.S that is yours truly’s fine Italian ass in the moodboard! 🍑

~word count: 1.4k~

Summary: Friday nights are takeout nights, baby love

Pairing | pornstar!joel x pornstar!female reader

Warnings: smut, fluff, oral f!receiving, mentions of ouid, teasing, flirting, intimacy, daddy kink! Mommy kink??, Joel and the reader are pornstars, Joel is in his 40’s, reader is in her 30’s, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is baby love, +18 minors dni!

Friday nights were arguably your favorite night out of the entire week; takeout night, baby! Every Friday night you and Joel would pick a local restaurant to order from and this week it was your turn! Instead of simply letting Joel know where you wanted to order from, you decided to play some theatrics into it.

You were, after all, well seasoned in front of the camera.

So while Joel was downstairs, seated at the kitchen table with his jar of weed and rolling papers laid out in front of him, you slipped into one of your favorite pairs of lounging panties. The fabric had little Chinese takeout boxes printed onto the fabric. They were a high waisted, cheeky pair and you had a sneaking suspicion that Joel was absolutely going to love and devour them.

After throwing on one of his well-loved shirts, you headed downstairs to greet him in the kitchen. He had just finished rolling a joint when he noticed you in his peripheral, his lips curved upwards into a boyish grin when he saw that your attire consisted of nothing but panties and one of his shirts: delicious.

“Hey, baby love.” He tucked the joint behind his ear, turning in the chair completely so he was facing you.

“Hey, baby.” You grinned, lifting the hem of his shirt up so he could get the full view of your cheeky choice of panties.

His eyes traveled from your face and all the way down the curve of your body. His eyes flickered back upwards, grin widening as he beckoned you to come closer, “Ooh, how’d you know I was hungry, baby love?” He snickered, wrapping his strong arms around your waist when you were within reach and pulled you in close. He started nuzzling his face against your exposed stomach, pressing open mouth kisses here and there while his hands grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing the plump flesh between his thick fingers.

He brought one hand back, giving your ass a playful slap that elicited a giggle to slip past your lips as you gently carded your fingers through his soft, salt and peppered kissed curls. You leaned down, giving the top of his head a sweet peck as he hummed against your tummy.

“No, baby.” You giggled, “ME. I’m hungry. I want lo mein and orange chicken from Fortune House.”

He let out a soft huff, tickling the sensitive hairs above your pubic bone with his enticing warm breath, “yeah, that’s what you want tonight, baby love?” He looked up at you, resting his chin against your stomach while you gently brushed a few stray curls from his forehead.

“Mhm. Are you good with that for tonight?”

“Always down for some good Chinese takeout.” He rasped, dropping one hand from your ass so he could reach across the table and grab his wallet, “think I wanna eat you first, though.” He chuckled, pulling out one of his cards and handed it to you.

“You always wanna eat me, Joel.” You shook your head with a small smile playing on your lips.

“Can ya blame a man?” He focused his attention back on you, slipping his fingers under the waistband of your panties and gently pulled the elastic back before letting it snap against your hip. “These are fuckin’ adorable, by the way. Love how they look on you, baby love.” He pressed a wet kiss to your hip bone, and then the other before trailing his lips just above the delicate lace on the hem of your panties.

His eyes flickered upwards, deep pools of brown full of nothing but unbridled mischief. The look he was giving you sent heat rising to your cheeks and your thighs involuntarily clenching together.

“Thank you, baby. They’re one of my favorite pairs to lounge in.” You hummed, keeping one hand in his hair just as he began to lower his lips, hot breath fanning your covered core. He leaned in, rubbing the tip of his nose against your covered clit, taking a deep inhale at the scent of your arousal.

“Fuck me.” He grunted, lashes fluttering shut momentarily before they opened again. He kept his eyes locked on yours when he pressed a kiss to your clit, and then another, and another till there was a small wet patch forming from the moisture building up between the thin layers in the fabric.

You stifled a moan, gripping onto his hair for support, your words coming out stuttered when he dragged the flat side of his tongue from your core and all the way up to your clit. “J—Joel, the f—food. Fuck.”

His words were muffled by his face being buried in your covered pussy as he hooked his thumb around the front of your panties and pulled them to the side. “You have my card, baby love, call ‘em and place the order while I feast on ya.” He chuckled deeply, sending a series of sparks to shoot up your spine as you tilted your head back.

“O—okay. What do you want?” You reached for his phone, snatching it up quickly just as he began to suckle on your clit.

“Gimme a minute, kinda busy.” You could feel him smirking against you as he swirled his tongue against you in a languid figure eight motion.

You struggled to dial the number to the restaurant with just one hand, but somehow you managed. “Hi! Yes, I’d like to place an order f—for delivery! Mhmm—I’d like an order of lo mein, orange—chicken. What—size? Uh, large for both, please!” You squeaked out, eyes rolling back into your skull when Joel had crooked his middle and pointer finger inside of your core, thrusting them shallowly.

His mouth and fingers were working in unison as your slick dripped out of you and down the side of his hand almost immediately. You struggled to keep your composure while he was working you into absolute ruin. You pulled the phone away from your ear, placing it against your shoulder for a moment.

“Joel!” You hissed, “what do you want, baby? Seriously J—Joel!”

He detached his mouth from you, looking up at you, beard and chin glistening in your slick as he licked his lips, “what was that, baby love? S’matter?” He teased.

You narrowed your eyes at him, struggling to not let a moan slip out and scar the poor old woman on the phone, “please, just—tell me what you want to eat.”

“Hmm.” He pondered, smacking his lips together, “an order of crab rangoon.” He leaned back in, dragging the tip of his tongue across your clit, sucking it between his lips before gently releasing it with a wet smack! “Egg rolls.” He repeated his previous action, feeling your thighs begin to quiver and tremble, “pan fried potstickers.” He suddenly ceased the movement of his fingers inside of you, and his mouth, forcing you to drop your hand from his hair to brace yourself against his shoulder, “and an order of beef and broccoli.” He added.

You swore you saw stars behind your eyes when he purposely edged you from your approaching orgasm. With a shaky hand you brought the phone back up to your ear, “hi! Sorry, I would also like an order of crab rangoons, egg rolls, pan fried potstickers— Jesus fuck—” you stuttered, biting down on your lip hard enough to draw blood when he continued with his ministrations, pumping his fingers inside of you at an unruly pace while he suckled on your clit. “I’m so sorry for swearing! That just slipped out—can I also get an order of beef and broccoli? Thank you—yeah, that’s it!”

“Yeah, that’s it, baby love. Give it to me. Soak my fuckin’ fingers, sweet girl. Give it all to daddy.” He murmured between your thighs, mouthful of pussy.

You don’t even remember saying your address, or the digits on Joel’s card when the sweet old lady let you know that the food would be delivered within the hour. You said thank you, ending the call and tossed Joel’s phone on the table before you slipped your fingers back into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp as you pressed his face further into your dripping cunt. “Don’t you dare fucking stop now, daddy.”

He looked up at you, tongue sinfully swirling around your clit, stray strands of curls dropping from between your fingers, falling against his forehead and briefly obstructing his view, “I wouldn’t stop eatin’ my girls sweet fuckin’ pussy even if the world was ending, momma.”

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[mrsshabana]

"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧, 𝐒𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫"

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟒: 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Gyutaro has been plagued by misfortune for his entire life. Until a beautiful nun decides to take him in one night, giving him much needed food and shelter. You're like an angel, forbidden to him. And he wants to take everything from you. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, virginity, vaginal sex, creampie, public sex, religious themes. ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 2.5k words. I may have taken the virginity prompt to an extreme, but I am so happy with how it came out. Definitely ended up being some of my favorite smut I've written.

✧:･ﾟ→ Kinktober Masterlist

You had prayed for him countless times. 

The man with the ink blotched skin, gauntly frame, and sour attitude. You didn’t know his name, but you’ve been a nun for long enough to know that this man was broken. The kind of person whose life was so void of hope that the only thing you could do for him was offer a prayer.

You later learned from the locals that his name was Gyutaro. Apparently they believed he was the epitome of evil, cursed since birth. But of course you didn’t believe such nonsense, everyone was capable of salvation. Even him. 

When the chapel first opened up a soup kitchen, you’d see him come by a few times a week. But his visits slowly diminished as his presence put everyone on edge. Often getting into fights with the other people seeking food and shelter. It saddened you to know that he felt he wasn’t welcome there. 

It had been months since you’d last seen him. Until tonight.

You had been watching the rain fall from one of the chapel windows. You find the city eerily tranquil at this time of night, long after the chapel doors have been shut. And that’s when you recognized a familiar, hunched, lanky frame sulking through the darkness. 

A sudden rush of adrenaline courses through your veins when you see him. You don’t know this man, but you feel the undeniable urge to help him.

Rushing through the halls and down the stairs, you make it to the chapel doors before he’s passed. 

You push the heavy wooden door open and shout, “Sir! Sir! Would you like to come in?”

He stops and slowly turns to look at you from under his unruly bangs. His lips curl downwards in a frown - he recognizes you, but says nothing.

“We have food! And you can stay in the chapel until the storm passes,” your voice wavers as you struggle to keep this heavy door open.

He’s hesitant, but comes towards you anyways. Getting close enough to hold the door for you, making the height he has over you evident.

“Thank you,” you chime, leading him inside. 

He follows you quietly towards the candle lit room, feeling less on edge than he had been at first. He’s not sure why, but he feels calm around you. Like he can trust you. He’s usually very untrusting of others, but maybe it has to do with the fact that you’re a nun. 

You guide him over to sit in the front row of pews, which he promptly does. You can tell he’s exhausted, so you don’t waste any time. 

“I’ll be right back with a meal for you,” you say with a smile before rushing off. Gyutaro stares at you as you go, watching the bottom of your habit sway eloquently above the stone tiles.

Gyutaro waits patiently for your return, eyes scanning the altar that stands before him. He can’t help but wonder why you would allow him into such a holy space. With his tattered clothes and soiled hands, not to mention the mud he must have tracked in with his bare feet. 

His mere presence in such a place should be considered blasphemy. But yet here you are, offering him food and shelter. Your warm smile never once faltered when directed towards him. He feels a warmth grow within him, something akin to a candle being lit for the first time. 

After a few minutes you return with a bowl of soup, a loaf of bread, and a blanket. “Here you go sir,” you hand him the warm bowl which he takes eagerly. “I hope it’s satisfactory. If you’d like seconds there’s more where that came from.”

He can’t remember the last time he’s had a warm meal. A few weeks perhaps? No, it has been longer. At least a month or two. Whatever the case, he starts eating right away. Sloppily tearing at the bread and slurping the soup. Too desperate to fill his stomach with something, that he can’t manage to pull away for a moment to breathe.

As he eats his fill, you drape the blanket over his shoulders and sit beside him.

“Sister…?” he rasps, placing the empty bowl in his lap and looking at you with sorrowful eyes. 

His broken voice surprises you, “Yes, my dear?”

“What’s your name?”

It wasn’t a question you were expecting to hear, but it’s one that you’ll gladly answer. “My name is Y/N. And you’re Gyutaro, right?”

His eyes widen when you say his name, “Yes.” If you knew his name, then you must know his reputation. It causes even more questions to plague his mind.

“Sister Y/N,” he pauses, “Why… why be so kind to me?”

“Because you are one of god’s children,” you put a delicate hand on his shoulder, “you deserve kindness just like everyone else.”

“Bullshit!” He snaps, “That’s what they all say!”

You stare at him in shock that he would dare to use such language in the chapel. He frowns and leans closer to you.

“If you were like the rest of ‘em you woulda left me on the streets too! They only pretend like they want to help me to make themselves look good. But you,” he begins to tear up, “You helped me even when no one was around. So tell me… what’s the real reason?”

He stares at you with an intense gaze, angry yet full of sadness. His arm is reached over you, hand on the arm rest, trapping you in the corner of the pew.

You take a deep breath before speaking, “Because I have a soft spot for you… I-I think it’s wrong how everyone treats you. Just because you’re different, doesn’t mean you’re bad,” you gently caress his cheek, “I think your differences make you beautiful. I don’t see a monster when I look at you. I see a broken man… a man that I want to help mend.”

His breath hitches, eyes widening and tears freely flowing as he stares at you. He’s never experienced what unconditional love felt like until now. You don’t even know him, yet you have enough love for him in your heart to help him when you know he can’t give you anything in return. 

Looking at you right now, your face radiates purity and innocence. Something he’s never once had. Gyutaro had never believed in god, but seeing you is making him think twice. You look just like an angel. 

You sit before him like a forbidden fruit. Representing all of the things he was told he could never have. He was too ugly, too foul, too wicked. Would you be willing to give him a taste? 

Gyutaro slowly leans forward, waiting, just waiting for you to push him away. But you never do. His lips collide with yours in a hesitant kiss. Slow and soft, like you were kissing a ghost. 

Your heart is filled with so much compassion for him that you aren’t able to stop yourself from crossing the line. All you want is to nurture him and mend his broken heart, and you’re willing to put your purity on the line to do so. 

Gyutaro feels the tender love and care radiating from you. He wants more, he needs more.

The kiss deepens as Gyutaro cages you beneath him. Moving a grime covered hand to your waist, feeling your form under the thick black cloth of your habit. Never in your life have you felt the lustful touch of a man, it’s so overwhelming that you immediately submit to him. Letting him do as he pleases. 

He’s gentle as he touches you, treating you as if you are made of glass as he removes your veil. Your hair flowing out, delicately framing your heavenly face. 

Gyutaro cups your face, “Sister… will you show me what love feels like?”

“Y-yes Gyutaro,” you whimper, “I’ll give you the love you deserve.” 

That’s all he needs to hear before he’s gently picking you up and moving you to sit on his lap. Pulling up your skirt to reveal the garter you’re wearing to hold up your stockings. He glides his hands over the thin fabric, admiring the way your thighs fit so nicely around his hips. So clean, so soft, so enticing - like the gates of heaven lie before him. 

You can already feel his member stiffening beneath you. You know how intercourse works, but is it supposed to feel so big? 

Gyutaro looks up at you with a needy gaze. Eyes glazed over, lips slightly parted, and pink dusted over his cheeks. He needs you. 

You don’t know what you’re doing, but you follow your body's lead and do what feels right. Wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him softly. He holds onto your hips as you gently move back and forth, grinding on him. 

His left hand explores your thighs while his right hand gropes your clothed breasts. His fingers make their way to your panties, “May I, Sister?”

“You may,” your voice shakes nervously. His fingers slide under your panties and begin to explore your folds. Collecting your slick between his fingers and rubbing slow circles into your clit. Immediately your thighs clench and a yelp escapes your lips. Never having explored your own body before, everything feels so sensitive. 

“You’re ok,” he coos, “just gettin’ you ready for me.”

You desperately hold onto him as he continues toying with your puffy clit. Eventually you begin moving your hips, pitifully humping his hand to chase the addicting sensation. “G-Gyu,” you moan, “Something's gonna -ah- gonna happen.” You clench your eyes shut and your legs begin to tremble.

He removes his hand from your panties and holds your hips still. Could you be about to cum already? It’s only been a few minutes, and he hasn’t even put his cock inside of you yet. Despite how badly he wants to make you cum, he rather save it for when he’s inside of you.

“Don’t worry Sister, I’ll make you feel good,” he whispers into your ear. Moving his hand back under your skirt and ripping your panties off before swiftly sliding down his pants.

You regret looking down and seeing his cock spring out of his pants. The sheer size of it is enough to make you tremble in fear, “I-I don’t know if I can.”

“Shh shh it’s ok,” he tilts your chin so your eyes meet, “I’m gonna take care of you just like you did for me.”

His storm blue eyes calm you, filling you with a sense of tranquility. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as he lifts you up and positions himself at your entrance - slowly lowering you onto him. He wants to see your face contort as you take him into your virgin hole. 

You wince in pain, tensing up at the sensation of being speared on such a thick cock. When you try to look down again Gyutaro tilts your chin back up, he won’t let you look at anything but his face right now. 

There’s a lot of resistance and he has to go slow, but he’s eventually able to push through and slide fully into you. It quite literally feels like you’re being split in half. Your slick was barely any help, he’s just too big. No amount of preparation could have spared you from the amount of pain you feel.

“It-it h-hurts,” you whimper. Leaning fully into him and wrapping your arms tightly around him as tears flow from your eyes. 

You’re so close to one another in this moment, bodies flush against each other as you show your vulnerability. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” He sounds like he may be on the verge of tears himself as he wraps his arms tightly around you. Giving soft kisses to the side of your face as he lets you adjust to him. 

After a moment of euphoria he slowly starts moving his hips, thrusting up into you. 

“Mm!” You whine and hold onto him tighter. It hurts so much, but you’re willing to endure it for him. 

You feel so impossibly tight around him, almost like he’s being pushed out because he doesn’t belong. Your velvety walls are a luxury to him. He’s invading a sacred space that no one was ever meant to touch. Especially not an abomination like him. But yet here he is, thrusting into your warmth, tainting you with his corruption.

“You feel like heaven, Sister,” he moans - picking up the pace.

Even though the pain is consistent, pleasure starts to seep through and you begin to feel a sense of pleasure that’s completely foreign to you. It’s similar to how you felt when he was touching you with his fingers, but it’s more intense and goes even deeper. 

You can’t stop the breathy moans that escape your lips as he grabs your hips and bounces you on his cock. You’re too fucked stupid that you don’t even stop to think about the fact that you’re being fucked right in front of the altar. Thankfully you’re facing away from it so you don’t have to deal with the guilt just yet.

But Gyutaro is staring right at it. Each thrust into your wet cunt is an act of defilement to the chapel and to everyone within it. To all the other nuns that have turned a blind eye to his suffering, to everyone in this damn city that left him to rot. 

He rams into you harder, the sound of skin slapping echoes through the chapel. The faint glow from the candle light illuminates your angelic face when you look into his eyes. 

He knows you're close, he can feel you tightening around him. 

Sweat drips down his temple as he firmly holds onto you and fervently thrusts up into you. Your legs begin to shake and you shout, “Gyu-Gyutar-taro I’m-I’m.” You can’t manage to pull together a sentence before you’re gushing all over him. Moaning and crying as you feel a forbidden pleasure consume you. 

“Th-that’s it my angel,” he moans, “Let it all out f’me.”

He stops thrusting while you climax so he doesn’t overstimulate you, but to his surprise you start moving on your own. Mustering all of your strength to ride his cock, “Want to-to do it for you too.” You look at him with teary eyes and a shaky smile, sacrificing your comfort to make him cum. You really must be an angel. 

Gyutaro holds you close to him and enjoys the feeling of your slippery, swollen cunt gliding along his aching shaft. 

“M’gonna cum Sister, m’cumming!” He whimpers and leans forward, touching his forehead to yours before releasing inside of you. His white hot seed pumping out of his twitching cock and filling you up. A mess of fluid is left under your habit - you quickly pull your skirt down to cover your sin.

The two of you sit there for a moment, embracing each other and savoring the euphoria that washes over you. Enjoying the bliss before you have to face the consequences of your lust. 

“Thank you Sister Y/N,” Gyutaro whispers, “for showing me what it feels like to be loved.”

[remnants]

thots about tommy wayne under the cut 👇🏾😚👍🏾

ok so in my head he's not from gotham lol (my guy is east coast mean, which is pretty mean, but not gotham mean which translates to being the sweetest guy on earth once you’re within the city limits). he's the illegitimate and son of patrick wayne and his daddy wouldn't claim him bc the affair/one-night-stand/whatever-you-wanna-call-it happened while he was very much married (fuck this guy fr!) and his wife was very much pregnant (oh brother this guy STINKS!!!). anywayyyy elizabeth mitchell isn’t stupid and knows a fight she can't win when she sees one so she leaves gotham for new york when the test comes back positive and patrick won’t pick up her calls.

and things are going good! she's made a little name for herself as a local nightclub singer and she's got a job waiting tables during the day that makes good money and sure things were a little touch and go for a while and sure there were times where she was sure that they weren't gonna make it but she got her baby through school (he graduated valedictorian btw) and now he's in the first year of his pre med undergraduate degree at the local university on a full scholarship (her parenting HER parenting).

so imagine her surprise when the billionaire deadbeat of the hour shows up on her doorstep one day talking about family duty and lines of succession.

patrick amadeus wayne jr. is dead. dead dead dead. and while it wasn't really a surprise to anyone with eyes (weak lungs can only take so many wet gotham winters and the tabloids were saying that the cough he sported at the latest gala sounded particularly nasty), he was by all appearances an only child (francesca wayne could barely get pj out let alone carry another baby to term) and the waynes were fumbling for someone to take his place before the body was even cold.

the transition is as rough as you would expect, what with the stony silences from his father’s wife (stepmother? who knows, not that either of them would ever acknowledge the relation) whenever they cross paths in the manor (francesca wayne never makes an outside appearance in gotham society again after the passing of her son. she enters a period of seclusion and never emerges, spending her days wandering the halls in mourning blacks and lighting candles in prayer), and sometimes being called patrick or pj by the gotham upper class (intentionally or not. though he suspects intentionally because his mother’s side of the family got the monopoly on his looks). it’s very obvious that he doesn’t fit in but hey, free college is free college and his mama is gonna be set for life if he can just see this through.

of course the whole thing doesn’t go over well (a long lost father suddenly appearing on your doorstep and claiming you only because his other kid died would put most people off to be completely fair) but after some yelling and screaming and haggling, compromises are made. in exchange for thomas moving to gotham and being prepped to take over as head of wayne enterprises, his mother is also to be put up in a fancy brownstone on the upper east side and given enough in allowance (in addition to the 18 years of child support she never got) so that she never has to work again and thomas is to be allowed to continue his studies, graduate medical school (in gotham and not at john hopkins like he planned. rip it was literally his dream school), and become a doctor (i like to think becoming a doctor was solely a thomas wayne endeavor. all the wayne men before him were men of business and trade but tommy has wanted to help people his entire life and he’ll be damned if he lets his father keep him from following his dreams). there’s a handshake and signatures signed on a drawn-up contract (because patrick wayne doesn’t do anything by halves and of course he brought the family lawyer to meet his son after 19 years of pretending he didn’t exist) and thomas goes from a two-bedroom apartment in hell’s kitchen to a bedroom the same size (and then some) right outside of gotham city.

and he does see it through, very well in fact! thomas wayne graduates top of his class in undergrad at gotham university as well as in medical school, is granted a residency at gotham general, and eventually becomes the head of surgery. Along the way, he meets a girl named martha, gets married, and has a beautiful baby boy named bruce (after his maternal grandfather ofc) and the rest is history!

[holdmeclosebutdontloveme]

CW: Mentions of previous experience with miscarriage.

The sun setting down to the sea, leaving a palette of orange and purple in the sky. The waves move freely, its water cool against his skin with a breeze that compliments it well. Such scenery have been constant in his life for a few years now and yet he is always grateful each time his attention moves away from his kitchen, in a daze of the nature sitting close to his home.

Unbothered by the fast-paced changes of the city life, Nanami have finally settled at a town far away - with you.

You had pushed him to quit his job, albeit unaware of the direct influence you had over his decision. But the stresses of the corporate world have left him mentally and physically unwell; leaving him on a brink of self-harm through alcohol and continuous overtime to push forward an agenda he is barely rewarded for.

Nanami feels guilty for the sympathy you always cuddle him with. Even if you offered it, willingly, pouring out the love you have for him through words and actions.

Now, the two of you have finally pursued the dream he had only imagined. A cafe near the sea, a concept Nanami never thought to be feasible but locals and tourists alike flock in for the baked goods he makes in the kitchen and enjoys the beverage you always have a knack for.

Even Satoru visits a few times in a week, buying more than he could eat just to pack it up for his students.

It's a blissful life with its own ups and downs but, regardless, Nanami readily faces everything.

Despite it all, he was unprepared for this.

You have been at the beach these days, especially when the cafe is quiet and knows that Nanami can easily handle both the kitchen and cash register alone. He doesn't mind the extra workload, aware of the time you need to process the tragedy you have faced while he was away that day.

And as he closes the cafe earlier than its initial closing time, a habit that slowly becomes a routine, he sees you on the shore.

You have changed from your usual work get-up, opting for the comfort of shorts and t-shirt. Nanami also notices you were barefoot, leading what little waves that ends up on the beach to greet the soles of your feet. The breeze have swept away your hair, tucking a few strands on the back of your ear with a solemn expression, all the while you faced the sunset.

The purple hue darkens the corners of your face as the little yellow strokes glisten the unshed tears in your eyes, even your wedding ring was shining brightly. Silence was what greeted him as he stood next to you, mimicking the words he couldn't say and gulps it all down to burn in the acid of his stomach, feeding him until hunger arrives once more for dinner.

Unfortunately, his appetite have diminished to nothing these days. Not even his favorite bread could heal a wounded heart. Not when yours have closed off entirely.

However, the persistence of a habit have left you to caress the tiny swell of your belly. A reminder of what had been there - the future, a life.

His daughter who he dreams of every night, listening to her laughter as her feet felt the waves for the first time. Her dress wet by the splatters of seawater done by you and a cheeky smile he gave to reprimand your behavior.

Sometimes she would've look like you, other times his daughter was his own image as a child. But regardless of the features she'll inherit, she was beautiful.

Most especially, she was his and yours entirely, molded by a love so big it couldn't be contained inside his heart. Yet she left before was done being baked in your belly.

"To somewhere better," you had said to him, while tears streamed down to your chin, trying to keep up a smile just to cheer him up. Even if you were the one being admitted in the hospital, tied with an IV fluid and monitored heavily by doctors and nurses.

You were alone when it happened and alone once more while you have undergone surgery to remove your little girl from her home within you. A tiny thing, intangible and bloody in form, but you describe him of the love you felt as you saw her out of you for the first time.

You couldn't hold her but the nurses have put her in a blanket near you. Before she was taken away for good.

Nanami...

If Nanami had been there, he doesn't know what he would've done. The possibilities were endless but the overall reaction he has for himself was an indescribable anger towards his absences, all caused by inconveniences conveniently placed at the wrong time at the wrong place.

He deserves the judgement from the nurses placed on him, their whispers and scowls of being a horrible husband who had left his wife to mourn for their baby by themselves.

It echoes in his head, in times where he was alone at the cafe or at home where sleeplessness eats his time away. Always looking at you, in a daze and in pain.

Just like how he is right now with his tears rolling down to his shirt with an opened mouth that fails to utter a word.

Unworthy of the hand that hold his tight.

[devilishchaos]

hi love, i have no clue if youre taking requests atm but im really in love with ur writings, super talented🥹 i wonder if you could write more fluff where rúben is having the pregnancy symptoms (cravings, back pain, etc) basically hes feeling your pregnancy ups and downs hehe

Sympathetic pregnancy | Rúben Dias Imagine

Rating / genre: fluff

Pairings: Reader x Rúben Dias

Summary: Rúben, an expectant father, experiences some of the same symptoms and behavior as his pregnant partner.

Warnings: none

AN: Heyy, thank you so much for the kind words and the request <3 I hope you like it! :) x

Word Count: 813 words

This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

You rolled onto your back with a small groan. Nothing seems to work, you are overly tired, frustrated, in pain and hungry. You are so uncomfortable you actually want to scream. Your stomach is huge and because of that, no position in bed is comfy. Literally not even one. 

Being 38 weeks pregnant is hard, all you really want at this point is for the baby to come out already. On top of not being able to find a position to sleep in, you never slept more than an hour at a time. Tonight especially, you had been experiencing braxton-hicks contractions for most of the night, some of them bringing you to tears. You placed your hand on your stomach and could feel him kicking around. You could feel his tiny feet pushing through the skin of your stomach, giving you butterflies and a smile. There was just something so strange about feeling a baby kick within you and while it was weird - it was a beautiful part of pregnancy that you would for sure miss. But of course, right now you just wished he would stay still and go to sleep so maybe you could get some sleep as well. You winced in pain as you felt another contraction come on. 

“Rúben?” you asked softly, trying not to startle him. 

But there wasn’t a response. 

“Rúbes?” you tried again, but still nothing. 

And since your back was facing him, you had to turn around to see why he wasn’t responding. Which alone was a big task. 

You soon discovered that Rúben wasn’t in bed, his side empty and cold, which meant it had been a while since he had left. But where could have he gone? It was the middle of the night and he had early training tomorrow. So you decided to go and look for him. 

After carefully getting out of bed, you put on your fuzzy robe and opened the bedroom door. Immediately you entered the living room and you were met with darkness. You made your way to the closest light switch and 

“Ah, are you eating my favorite craving without me?” you gasped at your husband, who you caught red-handed, trying to stuff a pickle in his mouth, a jar of grape jelly and one with peanut butter opened in front of him, sitting on the kitchen counter “How could you do this to me?” 

“Princess, I-” 

“Don’t princess me now mister! Are you stealing your baby mama’s food? And why are you sitting in darkness??” 

“I’m not! I- I just..I wanted to try it and I- I couldn't stop, I guess.” 

“It’s good, huh? Make room for me.” 

You waddled your way to him, around the kitchen island, and put your hand out. He put a pickle in it, with the perfect ratio of peanut butter and jelly, because at this point he has made that for you one too many times and he knew exactly how you liked it. 

“Thank you, babe.” you said while you both continued to stuff your faces. It was just too good to pass. 

*

Rúben almost found himself in tears during the training session at THE Etihad Campus because he didn’t perform the best way he knew he could. He’s had a couple of bad days but they’ve never led him to be so hysterical, he’s a born leader after all. 

“Oi, Rúben!” Kyle called him cautiously when Rúben walked into the locker room without saying anything to anyone, his gaze hard as he threw his soaking with sweat shirt quite furiously in his locker. 

“Rúben.” he calls him again, this time in a higher tone and he makes his way towards him “Rúben, take a deep breath in, lad. Chill man.” a choked sound comes out of Rúben’s throat as he sits down on the bench and Kyle stepped back to study him better. 

“I can’t breathe. Everything hurts. I’m not sleeping like I should and I wanna go back to drink another (caffeinated drink).” Rúben breathed out fast.

“You know if you were a girl I’d tell you you’re like this because of your hormones, your period or something.” Kyle jokes.

“Great! So I’m a man and I’m just crazy?” Rúben rolls his eyes while his friend shakes his head amused “And you have a wife for longer than me, Walks?!? You should know better than to say stuff like that.” 

“It’s one of the side effects of becoming a father, I’m telling you..been there, done that..three times.” Kyle shrugs. 

“Well it sucks.” Rúben grumbles almost immediately as he crosses his arms to his chest. 

“It’s worth it, I can assure you of that.” a little smile is born on both their faces. “Hey, but let me know when your morning sickness goes away, okay?” Rúben groans while Kyle laughs, after all it’s a bit funny. 

[paper-n-ashes]

Just Once

Characters: Marc Spector x Female Reader and Steven Grant x Female Reader (it’s kinda complicated okay?)

Words: 2.7k

Warnings/Tags: Explicit sexual content (18+ MINORS DNI), a whole lot of yearning, pining angst, borderline dubcon, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected P in V.

Author’s Note: A second part to The First Move, very much written from Marc’s POV. Set before the events of the Moon Knight series, when Steven isn’t aware of Marc’s presence. It’s angst mode for this one, with my usual sprinkling of smut towards the end. 

~

Marc had been worried about this. This exact moment, this scene, this time and place.

It was inevitable. He’d known it for sure as soon as your smiling face had appeared behind Steven’s apartment door. You’d done exactly as he’d asked. Been bold. Spontaneous. Marc himself liked that about you, and the thoughts inside Steven’s mind during the evening that transpired mirrored his own feelings ten-fold.

The weeks following that night had moved by so quickly, it’d been difficult for Marc to keep up. There had been dates, many of them, with Steven swiftly shaking off almost all of his caution and inhibition, particularly during intimate endeavours. From your first kiss and onwards, you’d ignited something in him, something fierce and nearly insatiable, finally able to experience – and excitedly administer – all types of the erotic fantasies he’d been longing for. Although there was one thing Steven hadn’t had the courage to do yet.

Spend the entire night with you.

Just… sleep. Simply slumber next to each other while the night expired. He couldn’t trust his body not to wander like it usually did. He didn’t want to frighten you with the bindings he was forced into using, or see the crease between your eyebrows that appeared with your worry if he explained his predicament. He hated that look on your face, only slightly more than the disappointed one you tried to hide when he spouted off the recited excuses made to keep your sleeping separated.

But such avoidance could only last for so long.

Steven’s willpower had long been waning, every kiss goodbye making his chest ache deeper. And thus this night had arrived, just as Marc expected, and feared.

Another evening had been spent with ease together. Dinner, a few pints at the local pub, walking hand in hand down the lantern lighted streets to your flat for the tea Steven always offered to make you. The kettle hadn’t even finished boiling before you were moaning his name into the echoey walls of your kitchen, clenching around the set of fingers smoothly slipping in and out.

The tea went unmade, two orgasms pulled from you before Steven allowed his own, the pair of you sweaty and disheveled on top of your floral bedsheets. It was after the clean-up, huddled into his still naked frame, that you tentatively posed the question you hadn’t had the courage to ask until now.

“Will you stay here tonight? Please?”

He couldn’t say no. Within those fragments of time, the word was lost in his vocabulary. Fear be damned, he was staying.

Lights off and settled under the covers, Steven had never felt more at peace, his arms keeping you tight to his chest, resting his head behind yours on the pillow to breathe in the calming scent of your hair over and over until reality drifted away.

This is exactly where Marc found himself waking, less than an hour later. Skin to skin with a woman he’d never met. Not technically, at least.

For a minute or so it felt… strange. Foreign. It’d been so long since he held someone like this. And while he always experienced everything Steven did while watching from the sidelines of his mind, nothing was ever truly as real or substantial until he had full control again. With Steven fronting, it was like seeing the world though glasses with someone else’s prescription in the frame. Like listening to conversation through a dense, brick wall. Like using his hands wearing thick, impermeable gloves creating a barrier to everything he touched. Sure, he always knew where he was, what was happening around him, but every deeper sense was stripped away to its barest foundations.

With the full spectrum of his consciousness awakening, it was the heat radiating between your bodies that caught Marc’s attention first. He hadn’t realised, or maybe refused to acknowledge, how much he missed it. Being this close with another, sharing such a tiny speck of the world by the bonds of skin. Indulgently, Marc began to slowly take check of each point you were connected. Your legs intwined in his, torso flush with your back, an arm draped over your waist. Ah, but the place that was most diverting was between his pelvis and your own, your rear nestled gently over his groin.

A slow breath you exhaled was enough to break the silence, startling Marc during his musings to instinctively tense his larger frame. The movement made you stir slightly from the depths of your dreaming to rustle against him, a reflexive action of your body to make sure he was still with you. The way your hips swayed back and forth, oh so daintily, set him in motion down a path of thought he’d been refusing to open the gate for.

Gods, he wanted you.

But he shouldn’t. He couldn’t.

At the base of all truth, you belonged to another man. It was Steven you’d opened yourself to, begun to give small pieces of your soul to. This was a love affair born from two people, a bond between a pair, something that should have been simple and unpolluted. Marc knew it was anything but.

Him, the life he inhabited, was a noxious gas spreading contamination into the air wherever he went. He tried to contain it, but the poison always seeped out through his pores and into the world around. The only thing that had ever remained untarnished by his presence was Steven. A living personification of the the innocence Marc lost so many years ago, the person he wished he could be. Unaffected and blissfully unaware of the deep trauma living in his bones.

The thing is, Marc knew he would never truly be able to escape the suffering of his past and how it formed him into the person he was today. He’d tried. In stupid, reckless ways. It didn’t work. And when a grief so potent struck the walls between these two identities his body housed, they splintered, Marc losing almost all control of how and when he could return to the helm.

To be honest, for while he didn’t want to. Watching Steven live out his days in a predictable routine was comforting and, for the first time in his life, peaceful. Marc could have easily sat back and supervised for as long as time would allow. But unfortunately he had an oath to abide, people to protect and a crusty Egyptian god to keep in his favour. Although whenever able, he would do all in his power to give Steven the kind of steady, carefree life he couldn’t maintain for himself.

You becoming a part of that life wasn’t part of the plan. Marc initially wrote off Steven’s instant affliction with you as being too messy, too intricate to attempt. Getting another person involved in this nonsense when he’d forcefully pushed away another would be insane.

But, in fairness, Marc was already lacking a little in sanity. And you were kind. And pretty. And sweet.

It was Steven’s fault, really. The bastard wouldn’t stop thinking of you. His imaginations had been vivid and incessant. Marc endured every single of them with a determined level of disassociation but their background effect couldn’t be understated. He began to think you during his own intervals of fronting, reminiscing over old conversations, the curve of your smile, the gentle timbre of your voice. You were impossible to ignore. He liked to think it was being at the end of a tether Steven had bound them to that made him call you, to push things along, but it would be a brazen lie. Truthfully the desires of his counterpart started to bleed and blur together in his own psyche, making his helpful deed a little… selfish.

When the visions moved into existence by way of Marc’s own meddling, that’s when things turned gruelling. He hoped being a silent bystander to all the moments of passion and ecstasy would ease the cravings.

Nope. Nope even slightly.

Bearing witness to the glory of your naked body, hearing the rapture of your moans, knowing exactly the twist in your expression when each climax reached its pinnacle and shimmered through you. All of it chipped away at Marc’s restraint, temptation winding up its intensity every time he was made to watch, listen and feel how Steven enjoyed you, even when the perceptions were a dulled form of what they could be. Fortunately you were always out of arms reach as he woke in his own bed, alone.

But tonight was different. You were here. So close. So tangible. His fears had materialised, and his discipline was hanging by a thread.

The strain of holding it together caused a sliver of impulsivity to claw its way out, his arm retracting back from where it lay. He just wanted to touch you… Just once. He needed to experience it for himself, what the fingerprints perceived once connected to your skin. Eventually, a hovering hand descended, his palm brushing down the line of your ribcage to the rising curve of your hip.

Fuck, you were so soft.

Marc didn’t expect the sigh you sleepily hummed, the sound making his pulse thump inside his skull. Again, his compulsion couldn’t be contained, repeating the gentle, sweeping motion over your flesh, desperately trying to collect all comprehension of it into his memory. The span of his movement started to drift, gliding down your thighs, over your rear, across your stomach, creeping up your torso.

The intent hadn’t been there, but carelessness made Marc wander too high, fingers skimming the underside of your breast. Even the small seconds of contact made you breathe out a luxurious exhale so divine he lost rational thought, becoming centred on scooping the full volume of it into a gentle, squeezing grasp. This time, a muddied whine was what escaped past your lips, accompanied by a deliberate wiggle of your ass into the swelling erection Marc had felt rising from the moment he woke up.

You wanted more. You were egging him on.

Well… not him. Steven. You wanted what Steven frequently gave. Or, what this body did. The lines between the two concepts were more distorted than ever.

Maybe… It would be okay. If Marc just… gave in. If he used what he had in his current possession to supply the pleasure you were clearly yearning for. He knew he could do it. Make you feel so good. If he didn’t speak, you wouldn’t know anything was different.

Just once. Just this one time, he could relish in you. All of you. And that would be enough.

With the decision made, an impatience came with it, Marc’s touches turning more heated, more eager. Even while still in the state between stupor and awareness, you responded to each caress with increasing enthusiasm, grinding your lower half backwards in a tempered rhythm. Fuck, it’d been a long time since anything other than his own hand had made this kind of contact down there, Marc having to grit his teeth through the throbbing of his engorged cock stroking against your bare skin. Slipping himself inside would have been easy, he could be fucking you within seconds if he didn’t have at least some authority over himself left. But he did, and there was something he wanted to experience of his own accord for the first time before making that jump.

Down he went, directing himself past your centre to lift a leg over his head and spread your thighs apart before him. Even in the dimmed effect of moonlight he saw how perfect you were. A glistening show of supple, inviting flesh, waiting to be toyed with. Seeing it with his own eyes was a thing he couldn’t have prepared for, the combination of your scent and subtle clenches around nothing very nearly sending Marc into a frenzy. But he needed to savour this.

A single fingertip was the first point of connection, having it explore the slippery ridges around your entrance. You sighed again while Marc swallowed hard at the distinct wetness making his movement effortlessly smooth, purposefully avoiding the stiffening bud of your clit even at the insistent bucking of your hips. Instead he chose to push into your core, into the heat within, studying how you consumed the digit right to the knuckle. In its retreat he noted how instantly glossy it became, an indication of how needy and easily reactive your body was to the man between your thighs.

He might have teased you, pulled the lone finger in and out until you were begging for even an ounce more stimulation, but Marc had been deprived much longer than you. He couldn’t help himself. One long, languid stripe of his tongue across the expanse of your cunt, and he lost it. All control. All regulation. All oversight. All of it.

The true taste of you was so overcoming his mind was replaced with one of a thirst-frenzied creature, hands gripping hard into your thighs as he licked and sucked at your divide, revelling in your squeals as he repeatedly swiped over your most sensitive point. Jesus Christ, he’d missed eating pussy. The tang of flavour, the clenching muscles, the telling moans. And he was better at it than Steven. It was noticeable in the way you began to tremble and quake in front of him, snatching into the curls of his hair and pulling hard.

Your whines turned jagged and gasping, their pitch reaching higher when Marc included the filling of you with his fingers, harmonising the movement of his mouth and hand to a tempo only he knew the beat to. In and out, over and around, two symmetrical motions shoving you closer to the release Marc likely craved more than you.

Just once. He wanted to feel you cum just once, knowing he was the cause of it.

It wasn’t long before this aspiration was met with a crashing orgasm, his skull squashed between your thighs as your rode out the high. From within Marc could feel the flickering contractions pulsate alongside the heaving groans of satisfaction you unleashed into the air, each tremor charging him with even more gratification than the last.

It wasn’t enough. He needed more. More of you. All of you.

Instinct was seated at the reins when he shifted upwards with your legs still open wide, spitting into his hand and fisting the saliva over his cock in preparation. It was fucking naïve to think he could have been as he sank inside you, his entire body tensing to a halt as the full sensation was finally his to own. Both relief and urgency trickled through his veins as you peered up under half-shut eyes, spurring him to continue. And he could only obey.

The thrusts were measured at first. Gradual. Much slower than he would have foreseen given how greedy he’d acted tonight. Even still, you writhed with every advance, face contorting into a delirious kind of bliss as Marc hit deeper within. He couldn’t decide what was more worth his focus, finally watching your tits bounce without clouded vision, or the paradise he encountered as every stroke occurred now able to definitely feel you. Honestly, it was overwhelming, having all your parts here at his disposal.

As the minutes floated on Marc’s momentum grew severe, lowering himself onto your torso and clutching you tight while he continued his steady, powered assault. Your moans were loud in his ear, clinging to his sweat-covered body as if he were the only thing holding you to this reality – one he wasn’t entirely sure existed.

He couldn’t help but falter when a kiss landed on his neck. Then another. And one more, the act sweet and cherishing.

Oh, fuck.

He’d sworn to Steven he wouldn’t. Silently. An unspoken sort of pledge when your stories started to merge. That he wouldn’t cross this singular line. Maybe it was more a promise made to himself, so he could still believe he wasn’t the selfish asshole he’d always proven himself to be.

Ah, but he was. Now more than ever. And it was too late to turn back.

Taking the opportunity to look down upon you, Marc’s palm cupped under your cheek, seeing you smile as teeth bit into your lower lip. In searching through your eyes, he became mesmerised by the sincerity shining back at him, the kind he was well aware he didn’t deserve.

Maybe he could. In time. Given the chance.

Marc knew the instant your lips converged, his hurried release arriving along with it, that any vow he’d made was broken beyond repair.

No. None of this was going to happen just once.

~

If you read this, thank you! I love you with my whole heart.

Tagging a few I adore and thought might want to give this a read:

@tlcwrites​ @roanniom​ @foxilayde​ @blackberries45​​ @hopeamarsu​​ @caillea​​ @princessxkenobi​ @mariesackler​​ @sacklerscumrag​

[cagesofgold]

plant dad

leaves that are green - simon and garfunkel 🎧

when you were concerned about your boyfriend's loneliness levels whilst put on a placement for your job out of town, you had no idea your efforts would have this effect.

He had become completely and irrevocably consumed. There were woven baskets with dahlias suspended from the doorways, money trees with thick healthy stems sprouting from rusted pots, and the shadow of a bird of paradise's leaves shrouding the bathroom in a peaceful level of dusk.

Jean had never expressed an interest in nature before. He had a few compositions he'd done for class featuring a clan of withering roses, yet even then he found it less interesting than drawing a card board box.

So, when you came home with a small fairy castle cactus, Jean didn't bat an eyelid, he simply commented on the warm yellow of the flowers standing proudly against the towers of green, and then continued stirring the pot of bubbling pasta.

This is what you had expected of course, but in truth, you knew Jean didn't cope well with being alone, having had the comfort of his mother's gentle humming his entire childhood, and Connie's less comforting humming before he moved in with you.

Although only for three weeks, this would be the longest amount of time you had spent away from Jean, and the longest amount of time he had been by himself. Of course you knew he'd be fine, perhaps just a little bit more clingy after your return, yet still you wanted to leave him a little company when things grew quiet. Of course since your apartment didn't allow pets, you had to settle for a less disruptive method of discreet company.

So you left the cactus, its plain white pot adjacent to the silver tap in the kitchen, with a little sheet of instructions of when to water it.

While away, you texted Jean a handful of times to ensure he was watering it, to which he replied with rather mundane responses like, "Yep." or, "Did it before class."

These responses didn't fill you with confidence, so instead you automatically assumed that your plan had failed, as any individual would.

Except the next day, whilst you sat with your shoulders hunched and body sandwiched between two business men on the subway, you recieved a picture, lighting up your face and making the austere man beside you squint.

It was a picture of the cactus, appearing even more healthy than when you first purchased it from the local market, yet it was the larger figure looming next to it that caught your eye. It was a small moon cactus, stretching upwards with a slight limp, a blood red flower enabling it to appear slightly top heavy. This cactus resided in a black pot, a deep contrast to its lighter counterpart.

"Got her a friend, think they're getting along well. :)"

A smile instantly painted itself onto your face, surprise filling every crevice within you as you typed back,

"Looks like they are :)"

A few days came and went and by now you'd spent about a week and a half at your internship, with only half to go. As you sat at your desk, leafing through a booklet of fabrics for an upcoming collection, your phone buzzed against the desk. Your lock-screen of a picture of Jean filled your view, his tan back facing the camera as he gently pulled his paintbrush across the canvas, a rainbow of paint stains littering his thick forearms. Below this sat a notification, with an attachment from Jean.

You opened the file curiously, waiting a few hesitant moments for it to load, a small circle spiraling around itself before it opened into a web page.

In pink bold letters at the top it read,

MOON AND PRINCESS'S WEDDING

the ecstatic couple would simply be over the, moon, if you could attend the day of which they profess their undying love for each other. Please contact the father of the bride, Jean Kirstein, if you are able to attend.

As you read over the file in confusion, a second text message from Jean came through, bearing a photo of the two cactus standing side by side. The princess castle's previously blank white pot had been transformed into a glittering wedding gown, with a tissue over her head as a makeshift veil, making you giggle. The moon cactus' black pot had become a luxorious tux, with a yellow bow tie to match princess' yellow flowers.

You erupted into laughter, your fingers tapping against the keyboard as you said,

"Tell moon and princess i can't wait."

Over the next week and a half you received copious photos of the new additions to the house, and photographic evidence of Jean's newfound watering can collection that was growing at a concerningly rapid rate.

Part of you was pleased that your plan ended in success, yet you somewhat feared the house you may return to, not fully prepared to weave your way through the newly established jungle.

Yet as you stood in the center of the apartment, surrounded by the loamy smell of soil and the fresh aroma of newly budding flowers, you couldn't help but feel a sense of joy at the tranquil breath of life around you, a rainbow of watering cans of differing sizes running along the top of the kitchen cabinets, with spiky ivy nestled into the chipping windowsills.

"Too much?" Jean asked hesitantly, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind slowly, the hands of which he had tenderly loved the nature around him the past three weeks touching you just as gently.

"It's beautiful, Jean." You smiled.

As you and jean lay in bed that night, tangled up in each other having just ate about as many chicken wings as it would take to feed an army, you felt an immense amount of peace within the fresh air and Jean's loving disposition.

And when Jean suddenly shot up in the middle of the night, the sheets bundling around his carved abdomen, his words didn't surprise you in the slightest, rushing out of the room as he yelled,

"Sorry, babe, i forgot to water the orchids!"

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Walmart Superstore: An Endless' Nemesis

Walmart Superstore: An Endless' Nemesis: Morpheus decides to tag along with you to Walmart when you run errands.

Warnings: One Mopey Ass Endless.

To Note: Morpheus x Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

You didn’t know what was more comical, the expressions flashing across Morpheus’ face as you walked towards the entrance of your local Walmart… or the fact that a mighty Endless wanted to shopping with you. Especially one as regal and prideful. There really was no need for him to come, you were just running errands, picking up cleaning supplies, toilet paper, a birthday present for your neighbor… you didn’t understand why he had wanted to come. It was a menial task. Mundane. Mortal. So why had the Endless insisted that he accompany you to the superstore when you knew he had better things to do?

You stole another look at Morpheus while collecting a small basket to hold your would be items. He was staring at the corral of blue shopping carts in confusion.

“They’re just shopping carts,” You point out, slipping the basket onto your arm. Morpheus blinked and looked at you with an inquisitive look. “You know… to put the stuff you’re gunna buy in while you’re walking around? Makes it a lot easier when you don’t have to carry all your stuff.”

“Is it necessary for them to be so large?” He asked, blue eyes dropping to the small basket hanging off your arm. “Your choice is far smaller and more reasonable.”

“Because I am only getting a few things.” You said with a shrug, moving in the direction of the cleaning aisle. “I’m not getting an entire cart full of stuff today, so the basket will do just fine. Come on, stay close unless you want to come across a Karen in the wild.” Morpheus didn’t understand what you meant by that, or what a Karen was… was Karen not a mortal name? You spoke of it as if it were a creature instead. That thought dissipated as a large man trundled past, wearing a shirt three times too small, little ‘shorts’ and bright pink flip flops. Another fashion trend he would have to inquire about. The Endless lost interest, and silently followed after you.

The many items lining the shelves passed were all odd to the being and held little interest. Mortals invented the most menial of objects at times. You turned down an aisle and blatantly ignored a couple arguing over a box of… something. Cereal. Their thoughts were loud and obtrusive, echoing painfully within Morpheus’ mind. To you, the argument was just another trip to Walmart. You didn’t bat an eyelash when one hit the other with a box, and proceeded past the aisle of human food to the next.

You eyed the Endless silently trailing beside you. He was in his usual silence but you could see his eyes taking in everything with curiosity. Or maybe disdain? It was sometimes a guessing game with Morpheus for at times he was enchanted with mortal inventions and others, he curled his lip at. Walmart was definitely not a place high on his intimate interests. You’d better make this trip quick lest his broodiness start having a physical effect on the shoppers.

 Running through your mental checklist, you turned down the cleaning aisle and began looking for  disinfectant spray for your kitchen. It was relatively easy to find the brand you used and you dropped the bottle into your basket as Morpheus examined the plethora of choices.

“There are many options, how have you decided on that one?” He enquired, eyes glossing over the many bottles before settling on your face. You shrugged.

“Dunno, I just go with what’s cheap and grew up with.” You answered. You’d never put too much thought into your choice, it was just cleaner. You didn’t need anything fancy, just something that worked. Toilet paper was next. You’d run out after the local elementary school had roped you into helping mummify the Principal. It’d been fun and hilarious, but the event had taken every last roll of  toilet paper you had in the house. You wandered in the direction of the tissue aisle and picked up  what you needed. By now you were on autopilot, forgetting the fact that you had an Endless trailing behind you, perplexed by the all the choices there were of the same item.

All you had left was to get your neighbor a birthday present. Susan had lived next to you in a cute little stone house. She’d lived in that house for at least forty years and was just starting to get around to renovating the place. Her kitchen had been the latest job and you knew that she had been wanting a good coffee maker for the longest time, but always used an ancient one that you could have sworn was from the early 90s just because it still worked.

It was time for a new one.

So you wandered down the small appliance aisle, looking at the models and trying to figure out which one Susan would like best. She was older, so she didn’t need something fancy. Just something that worked and was easy to set up. You were stuck between two models, eyes flickering back and forth while you tried to decide which one to go with, when an announcement over the intercom had your eyes going wide.

 “Y/N Y/L/N, your beloved is at register 10.” What on earth? You were confused to say the least, not quite understanding why an announcement would be made like that. Then you realized something. Morpheus was no longer lingering behind you, silently judging every little thing. You spun in a half circle, searching for the Endless but to no avail, you could not find him!

Good god, the announcement was for you!

Leaving the small appliance aisle, you hurried towards the front of the store while you mind went into overdrive. Beloved? That word was definitely part of Morpheus’ vocabulary and not one that most if any mortals would use. So only one being could potentially be considered your ‘beloved’. … but since when had that happened? You shook your head as you emerged from the depths of the superstore to see the line of registers all normal. One glance at register ten however, and you nearly face palmed yourself.

Morpheus was standing by it with the most despondent pout upon his lips, in a desolate mope that seemed to make a cloud of depression hang around where he stood. You were flabbergasted and wondering what the hell had upset him this time when you approached him. The moment Morpheus saw you approaching, the cloud of dreary darkness dissipated above his head. But not the pout or mope.

“You left me,” He accused you when you approached him, making a dramatic scene to show just how upset he was. “Why did you abandon me?” You opened your mouth to fire back that you simply had just wanted to get your shopping done and weren’t used to having someone with you, but the look within his eyes made you falter. He really did look devastated.

“Okay, first off, I didn’t leave you on purpose,” You informed him, coming to a stop in front of him. “I was just trying to get my shopping done as fast as possible,” He glowered at you and you sighed with a roll of your eyes. “You are making it seem like I intentionally ditched you!”

“It feels as if you did.” He declared, his eyes glimmering pitifully as he loomed over you. “Do you not care for me anymore? Is this you showing me that you no longer wish for my company?? Are you finally casting me aside!?”

“What? No!” You exclaimed, face palming yourself. Where the hell was this coming from!? “Oh my god, Morpheus! I just forgot okay!? I am in no way telling you to leave!” That seemed to abate the watery look in his eyes. You reached for his hand, determined to hold it until you were done shopping and leaving. The last thing you needed was for him to have a meltdown in Walmart. “Come on, I’ve just got to pick out a coffee maker for Susan.”

Pulling him along, you were oblivious to the Endless now basking in the feeling of you grasping his hand. Your fingers were warm and comforting against his cold ones. Arriving back at the small appliance aisle, you retook your position between the coffee makers and gave them one last look. The one on the left looked most Susan friendly, so you’d get that one. Setting your basket down so you didn’t have to break the handhold with Morpheus (because heaven forbid you did), you picked up one of the boxes and put it in your basket. You then picked the basket up and looked at Morpheus.

“Now I am done, we just need to check out and then we can leave.” You told him, watching as he blinked at you. “Okay?”

“Very well,” Morpheus answered, maintaining his grasp upon your hand. His brief moment of complete devastation and despondency was gone from his facial features like it had never happened. Clearing your throat, you began walking back towards the registers, noticing how tightly the Endless held your hand. When you arrived up front, much to your dismay, the only register that was available  and not backed up was register 10. Oh well. It wasn’t like you toted an Endless man-child around with you every time you shopped at Walmart. So you got in line and tried to ignore that stares of several old ladies congregating around the magazines.

When it was your turn to pay, you did so quickly, trying to get out of there as fast as possible. Just as you were grabbing your bag and pulling Morpheus away from the narrow lane, an elderly woman spoke up.

“Oh don’t you two just look so cute together! Calling each other beloved! You don’t see a love like that every day.” Your face burned with heat that bloomed just beneath your skin and you all but dragged Morpheus to the exit.

“Only at Walmart. Only at Walmart.” You chanted to yourself as you fled. You and Morpheus would definitely be having a conversation when you got home because there was no way you were going to be able to function properly without knowing what exactly the Endless being saw your relationship as. “Only at Walmart.”

Date Published: 6/29/23

Last Edit: 6/29/23

Dream of the Endless Masterlist