#they just occupy a space in my brain and force me to pay attention to them

[fiirered]

Spinel + Amethio = Rivals to lovers frfr

[luverz-exe]

Hey, I was wondering if maybe you could do yandere headcanons for The Riddler from arkahm city? I rarley see anything about the arkahm games. However, If not it's fine, have a nice day or night!

Yandere Arkham City! Riddler Headcanons

...Uh, hi. I'm back. sorry for the prolonged hiatus, I've just been...dealing with a lot at the moment. I'm glad to be back. I'm not gonna be making a full blown post for it, so imma just say my piece here. Don't worry Anon, I'm gonna get to your request soon- just wanna talk a little bit. Requests will be off for awhile, how long, I'm not sure. Going to finish the requests I can, I won't force myself to do them all- because if I can't write it, then I realize I'm not obligated to. A reason that I quit was because I was so overwhelmed with stuff. But that was any of your faults! I am absolutely astounded that I have so much support! Just that sometimes I need to realize that I can't do everything there is out there, because I'm still an amateur writer, there's a lot I can't do and even more that I have yet to get good at. Sorry for rambling, here's your request Anon!!

Slightly suggestive near the end, oopsie doopsie guys. Oh yeah, and he says some really mean words, guys- an absolute shocker 🤯

Here's the thing when it comes to Edward. He's an asshole- a smug, insensitive asshole. Of course, we all know this by now. But this snarky self-absorbed piece of shit is slowly starting to decay, inside out. His mental state fluctuates, and it really is straining on your "relationship". He believes in more practicality, you're here to be his assistant, and he's here to protect your primitive brain (though, less than your peers, just enough for him to take you under his wing and truly try and help you flourish) from combusting. He can make you smarter, you know. You have so much potential, enough to be second best...Just watch, and learn. It's not like you'll have a choice.

Yeah...The first few weeks-months will be tenuous- it's likely you didn't join this relationship of your own volition. And even if you somehow did, it's not going to be any better. He's making you go no contact with the outside world. While you call it a fucked up form of house arrest, he prefers to call it a more civilized form of rehabilitation. Sorry, not sorry- those idiotic, moronic, brain-dead louts would taint you again. No wonder you're so much dumber than him, all your life you've been surrounded by bad influences (so was he, but he's a prodigy, and you're just smarter than average- it's different). You have to stay away from them because any smarts he's been giving you might be sucked up by those braindead leeches!

Good news though- free range of his living space (if you can even call it that)! While he's still keeping his appearance semi-clean, his space hasn't, as he's slowly beginning his descent into the Arkham Knight version. But hey, how about you be a good helper and pick some stuff up- keep you occupied short-term. Because, you try and talk to him, it's going to be a lot longer- and you might want to take notes because he is going to test your knowledge on it later.

"Why are you bothering me? ..Cleaning? No, no, you stop that. If you're going to keep your mind occupied, then I recommend you grab the 11mm crowfoot wrench and get over here." When you didn't move, be it you didn't know where he stored those or a genuine lack of knowledge about wrenches, he peered up from his work. "..What, can't even do that?" He signed, furrowing his brow, but prevented himself from badmouthing further. It wasn't their fault for having an idiot society teach them about these things. "..Just- grab the flashlight, over there on the counter, I'll get it myself- and you better pay attention. This mistake will not be made more than once, I assure you of it."

Pity is a common occurrence, but his sympathy isn't. Oh, your poor pitiful shrunken brain, rotting away from all the bad people in your life. But you should've taken one quick look at him, realized he was your intellectual superior and asked for him to bring your brain to a normal size and to ditch everyone else in your life. That's your fault.

Now, it isn't all bad! Look on the bright side, learning is now your full time job- with him as your teacher (in a non-sexual way, because god-damnit if you think you can get out of learning about the proper ways to build one of his puzzles by giving him a handjob (you can, and probably should to avoid what would be considered a 5 hour lecture over the course of the day)). He enjoys teaching you all that he knows, and he expects you to share that enthusiasm, especially when he talks about batman. When he starts talking about the flying rat that plagues his life, you better listen. You're going to be his assistant someday with all of this 'killing Batman' thing, so you better hop on that train early.

While he does call you an idiot, he's just self-projecting his hatred of Batman (and himself) onto you. No, it's not your fault- it's 100% his own and he won't apologize or acknowledge it in a meaningful way. It slowly dissipates the more your 'nasty' attitude does, but even then it never fully disappears. Depends on the day. He'll never get better, though, not fully. And once you see how bad he becomes in Arkham Knight, you'll realize this isn't as low as he can go.

"You idiot! Can't you do something right? When I talk, you listen! Why do I even keep you around?! You're an absolute buffoon, you know that?...Of course you don't, you see? If you were with me sooner, you wouldn't be like this. We'll get you to the intelligence level you should be, don't you worry, but clearly we're going to need to change tactics if I'm going to get it through that thick skull of yours."

[onmyyan]

Your writing brings joy to my shriveled brain. How do you think it would go if Steven from Moonnight had a female roommate who desperately tried to ignore the weird shit. Acting like nothing was out of the ordinary bc the apartment is in the perfect spot and the rent is really reasonable. Steven and Mark grow increasingly alarmed and intrigued respectively at their cute but definitely deranged roomate ignoring all the bat shit crazy with an iron force of will. The more they pay attention the more they realize they like having her around.

A/N: My shriveled heart enjoys writing for y’all 😫🤚🏼 also this my first moonknight request I’m so excited It’s not even funny. This took me actual ages to post bec I kept rewriting it, Marc and Steven are wonderful and I'm sorry if their ooc and for how long it took me to post, hope you enjoy! NOT EDITED

TW'S: Yandere

The first thing you noticed about Steven Grant was his inexplicable ability to keep to himself. Like really to himself. The small space you two occupied never felt crowded despite sharing everything but a bed. His room was sort of the living room, and at the very beginning you two set the rule that you’d each keep to your own, a fair rule considering you got the bedroom, the cheap rent and non-creepy roommate was worth all the odd stuff you noticed. Like how he taped up the front door at night. You chalked it up to paranoia. The ring of sand he diligently poured around his bed? Your aunt had a sleepwalking problem, could happen to anyone. The kinky ankle chain he kept on the post by his bed? What he got up to when you were out of the apartment was his business, and you minded your own well, as long as you weren’t in danger, he could be as weird as he wanted.

Steven was worried initially. His mind ran ragged with scenario after scenario of you finding out about Marc, the two of them had only just begun to peacefully coexist. Marc had no problems with you as long as you had your rent and didn’t ask too many questions, plus you sometimes wore these little shorts to bed and he'd never complain about the view.

There were just some things you can't hide, like the fact that the apartment felt haunted whenever Steven was home, the cold chills and way he was constantly looking up in some random corner were a little harder to ignore, you told yourself you'd say something if you got possessed, other than that it was blissfully ignored.

Marc had never officially met you but he had been watching. He was a naturally alert person so it wasn't concerning- what worried him was just how often you wiggled your way into his thoughts as of late. He was far too grown for something like a crush, far to burdened with his destiny for something like romance, that's absolutely not why he took over to watch you for a while, nothing malicious, just observe you how steven gets to, you two only ever crossed paths in the morning and as you were heading to bed. You didn't bat a eye, offering him a sleepy wave and a yawn as you made your coffee.

He found himself smiling at the silent, practiced way you worked around the kitchen, something about the scene was domestic, "Wan' some?" You asked rather cutely, a yawn breaking through at the end, warmth pooled in his chest at the simple action and before he could stop himself he was nodding.

Your pretty (e/c) eyes widened for a moment before that friendly grin came back. "You never take me up on that- I was startin' to think British people couldn't drink coffee." The graceful ease in which you moved had his eyes soaking up every inch of you, your little joke had pulled him out of whatever weird trance he'd fallen under. "Cream and sugar?" He shook his head no, and when your fingers brushed his as you handed off the warm mug, it felt like he'd been electrified.

"You're usually at the museum by now- sorry that sounded creepy I meant- it's nice seeing you that's all." Your very apparent flustered state pulled a smirk to his lips. You were too cute. But the question did yank him out of the sweet bubble he'd found himself in once you started talking.

You thought he was Steven- of course, why wouldn't you? He knew this and yet, that familiar pang of disappointment lingered, so hard in fact he'd fallen into himself and let Steven have the wheel once more. The Brit was proper confused when he came to with a steaming mug of coffee in his hands.

He nearly dropped it when he finally noticed you standing before him, your bedhead made you look like some sort of sleepy Angel, he quickly took a sip of the liquid, failed to hide his grimace and thanked you for it before rushing out with the guise of being late to work. Truthfully his shift didn't start for an hour and a half, he just liked giving you your space.

He found out rather early the longer he spent in your presence the more likely he was to make a fool of himself. You were charming and witty and god you looked like someone who should be waited on hand and foot- not that that's something he's thought in detail about or anything don't be silly-

"I think I should introduce myself." He heard Marks voice ring out while he reorganized the plushies by the register. "Absolutely not." He said almost offended at the mere suggestion, his pulse began to skyrocket, "Are you mad? She just started being comfortable-" he laughed humorlessly, "That be a fine way to send her running for the bloody hills." He set the last plush down with more force than necessary, the idea of you not being in his life anymore shot a spike of panic through him.

"You're not giving her enough credit, somethin' about that one- this feels like the right move buddy." Steven glanced at Mark's reflection in one of the display cases. He pointedly moved to the other side of the store, his face twisting into a pout. "She's noticed all the weird shit we do- she's still there." He heard him try to reason, catching his grin in the glass. "You can't hide from me, I know you're just as interested in our sweet roommate as I am."

[depressedhatakekakashi]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!

Thank you!!! (I swear i wasn’t ignoring your ask i just wanted to come up with a ficlet idea and it was mo easy my brain decided to call it quits on me for a bit today XD)

Kakashi wasn’t used to being approached by people randomly in the streets with work. Outside of the office people generally understood that he didn’t want to deal with paperwork, meetings or general Hokage’s work.

Not everyone knew that, of course. Or even if they did they weren’t guaranteed to care too much about how he felt about being presented with a task while he was trying to relax.

Case in point: Kabuto.

Kakashi had been enjoying a relaxing sip of tea after an exhausting day of meetings with Konoha’s resident annoyances, otherwise known as the elders, when Kabuto walked right up to him and slapped a paper down on the table in front of him.

“Hello to you too,”He sighed, barely paying the paper any attention as he focused on Kabuto. “Did you need something?”

“Your signature,” the man answered as he jabbed a finger into the paper right where Kakashi needed to sign. “For an extension to the orphanage.”

“An extension?” This was the first he was hearing of such a request. “Why does the orphanage need an extension? It was just built three years ago.”

A fact that he knew well. He’d signed the papers and agreed to Sasuke’s suggestion of having Kabuto take care of the the kids that would be placed into the orphanage.

“There’s more kids than the original building design accounted for,” Kabuto explained with the same calculated approach he’d always used when speaking with Kakashi. “I currently have fifty kids who are sharing rooms because we ran out of space.

Fifty kids. That seemed like a lot for a building that had been created to accommodate one hundred. Clearly they had underestimated just how many orphan’s would be in need of a new home after the war ended.

The problem was, if Kakashi signed the paperwork and sent it through the regular channels it would take months, if not years, for the extension to be built.

That was too long for those kids to be crammed into small rooms together with little or no privacy.

“Alright,” he sat up and claimed the pen that Kabuto had set down on top of the file. With three quick strokes it was officially signed. Work could move ahead without issue. “Ah,” he used the pen to smack Kabuto’s hand when he reached out to reclaim it. “I still need that.”

“For what, exactly?”

“Well, I have a plan that might shorten the time you’ll have to wait for the extension to be finished. Of course,” a realization struck. His plan wouldn’t work if Kabuto was in the building when he brought along the shinobi he was thinking of using to complete the job quickly.

Narrowing his eyes, Kabuto searched Kakashi’s face for an explanation. “Don’t tell me… will he help?”

“For you? No,” there was no doubt about it in Kakashi’s mind. If Tenzo knew that Kabuto was anywhere near the area he’d refuse to come, and that was fair. Kakashi would never force him to occupy the same space as the man who’d tortured him. “For me? Well, it’s possible.”

It would take a lot of sweet talk and a little bit of bribery, but he was sure he could convince Tenzo to do it. If anything it would get him away from his mission of watching over Orochimaru for a short period.

A break that he was certain Tenzo desperately needed.

Setting the pen down, he grabbed the cup of tea he’d been nursing before Kabuto had so rudely interrupted him and held it under his nose. The gentle aroma of green tea filled his nostrils as a wave of calm washed over him. “Just give me a few days,” he continued, already working on a plan to convince Yamato to do the job. “And make sure you’re out of the orphanage when I tell you.”

“Alright, if that’s what it takes then fine,” turning his back to him, Kabuto took two short steps forward before stopping and glancing back at Kakashi over his shoulder. “And… thank you. The kids will appreciate it.”

Settling back into his seat Kakashi raised his cup of tea into the air. A small gesture that Kabuto returned with a simple nod before continuing down the road back towards the orphanage.

Once he was far enough away that Kakashi was certain he would no longer be able to hear him, he slumped back into his chair and stared down at the paper he had just signed. “Now, time for the hard part.”

He wondered if there was anything in the world he could offer to Tenzo in return for his help with the extension. After all, Tenzo hated Kabuto with every fiver of his being, and for a very good reason.

He’d have every right to laugh in Kakashi’s face and tell him to take a hike.

[jaynnie-jane]

I often feel like meditation, or at least learning the basics of it are over complicated by the general perception of meditation being informed by spiritual leaders that are able to "clear their mind completely".

The very basics of how they're able to do that is often skipped because folk feel overwhelmed by the task or afraid of the idea of being left to their own internal dialogue.

At its core meditation can be simplified down to paying attention to the present moment without judgement. It is allowing yourself to be curious about the present moment and to consciously notice that moment. It absolutely can use internal commentary to help increase the attention to that moment, as long as the commentary doesn't simplify the experience down to a streamlined inference, judgement or perception.

For example: there is a cold sensation that occupies the upper, outer edge of my perception of self, it is inside of me, feels like part of me. Inside that area there is a feeling of inward movement, resistance or pressure. This feeling seems to be more intense on the left side. There is a coldness on the left side that stretches further upward and out on the very edge of 'self' it is still inside me but only barely. Abruptly the pressure/resistance/movement feeling stops and the coldness subsides slightly. Then, the feeling of movement is reversed. The pressure and resistance resume and it feels like the deeper space inside, is filling up or pushing out. The cold feeling to my diminishes further to the point where it is not noticeable. I can feel a light pressure that is external to me, that pushes into the space just below where the cold feeling was.

This is a very different and more complex observation of self when compared to "I breathe through my nose".

Simply googling "how to meditate" I get a bunch of articles that say "pay attention to your breath". But how do we force attention onto something that doesn't NEED it?

Curiosity.

It is natural and healthy to quickly and unconsciously perceive our present moment. For example, when not paying any attention my brain perceives "I have a slight headache on the left". It is the curiosity, the why, how, what, when and where that helps break down each fast perception. Why does that area hurt? Oh because the air is cold. How do I know that? What is it that I am feeling, where am I feeling it, when does the feeling happen?

Being curious about things we take for granted is difficult. We only survive because the sensations of breathing (for most of us) tend to exist outside of our awareness. If we were constantly aware of every little thing we experience, we would be exhausted, overwhelmed and would struggle with (if not be incapable of) higher level thinking.

Meditation is just paying attention to whatever is in that present moment, without judgements or pre-conceptions and choosing to come back to it each time we get distracted.

[zacks-oc-house]

Studious

Happy Birthday Neith!! I couldn’t not write up something for the birthday girl! @cinnella

Minseok hurried down past the colorful walls of the library hall. His last seminar kept him late, and he knew finding a seat in the library was going to be next to impossible. His long legs breezed past the many flyers and posters that advertised local events, paying them no mind.

Usually he would have his friends save a spot, but none of them were free this hour, so he was thrown to the wolves. As he opened the old wooden doors, he scanned the library. Full..

His green hair bobbed back and forth as his eyes searched for somewhere amongst the fellow students. The main area was hopeless, so he went to investigate the mezzanine seating. He climbed the steps, finding a table of promise.

There sat a girl with the most beautiful pink hair. She was poring over a book on the desk, the space open next to her, save for a very fashionable purse. By what he could see, she was gorgeous, with a deep skin tone. *nerves!*

Realizing he probably, no, definitely looked weird standing at the landing, he forced his legs to move towards her. Funny how they seemed hesitant now, compared to the rush they had just been in. Nevertheless, he walked up to the girl, clearing his throat to get her attention.

“E-excuse me, can I sit here?”

The girl took her time lifting her head, waterfalls of hair cascading around her soft face. The most stunning and powerful violet eyes hit his own amber ones. An pink scar tore through her face, disrupting none of her beauty. The blush on his face was instantaneous. Her face was inquisitive at first before breaking into a warm smile that unfroze Min’s body.

“Of course! Just let me move this-“

She hefted her purse to the floor, the airy scent of her perfume dancing around for Min to enjoy.

“Thank you!” He quickly took the seat, trying to occupy himself with getting out his textbooks and supplies. He turned to face her, smiling shyly. “My name is Minseok, or Min. I prefer either.” He touched his glasses, a nervous habit it seemed.”

The girl proudly stuck her hand out, expecting a handshake from him. “My name is Neith, a pleasure to meet you~” Looking at her hand, he took it, feeling warm, worn hands. He hadn’t expected such a glamorous girl to have calloused hands. *another reminder to not judge people based on appearance..*

“Nice to meet you too.”

The two smiled a moment longer, sparkling energy dancing between them until they both went to focus on the work in front of them. The two were mainly quiet until Neith spoke up, a musical laugh leaving her full lips.

“It’s so funny. I have been sitting here wracking my brain for some inspiration in these fashion reference catalogues, but you just gave me exactly what I needed.”

Min looked up, incredibly confused and red again. “A-nd what is that?” He smiled, looking shaky and very cute. Even the tips of his ears were pink.

Neith brought what she had been working on to the center of the table. It was fashion sketches, some detailed and some rudimentary. They were all incredible though. “Wow!” Sprinkled across the sheets was the answer. Emerald and jade greens. The same shade as the hair on his head.

“I’ve been following too similar a color pallet on my fashions. A jewel tone collection is just what I need.” She hauled up her purse, rummaging through and pulling out a flyer for him. “I have a fashion show at the end of the semester. You should come. You can see me and the fashions inspired by you!” She winked, and he could have fainted in that moment.

Using all his willpower, he nodded, adjusting his glasses once more. “Absolutely! I’m glad I could be some help.” He smiled wide at her, Neith now also feeling the same warmth dance across her cheeks.

~

As the end of the semester drew nearer, it seemed the two spent more and more time together. First, at the library, then at more spots around the campus, until they were to be found at each others dorms. Neith was the one to make the first move, Min nervous but excited.

The fashion show was today, Min having kept the flyer on his wall in pristine condition from that first day in the library.

He got ready, wearing one of his nicest outfits, and headed to the art hall to support his girlfriend. *my girlfriend.. :3*

What followed next was still talked about to this day. Neith Desai’s first collection. Yes, it was university level, but the university still brought it up every few years to highlight their arts department.

Min sat front row with Neith’s friends as the show started. Neith had requested Min to not find her before the show. When she came out from the catwalk, he understood why.

Dripping off her dark complexion was a breathtaking gown in rich magentas. She embodied elegance. Neith started her speech, the room enraptured by the sheer confidence and willpower this young woman had. Their eyes found each other in the lights, connecting them forevermore. Violet and amber.

~

Following a lively afterparty, Min and Neith found themselves quietly roaming the university grounds, happy to escape the noise of the party. Neith had switched out the gown for a party dress of the same color and design. She had her heels in one hand while the other held Min’s. “You did so well! You’re going to be everywhere!”

Neith laughed, leaning into Min’s space. “I’m only interested if that everywhere includes you, Minny~”

He immediately blushed, glasses touched as per usual. “Of course! What’s an artist without her muse?” The two cracked up laughing as they walked down the still warm sidewalk.

[grandpageepa]

hi

looks like i've got my mind back - there's a lot going on but there's a lot of space to think now because i've 86ed some distractions - namely Instagram. The mindless scrolling was taking over and it's a force of nature, to occupy the space and time but it stunts creativity and the ability to just think in peace. I feel like I'm more at ease now. I don't feel the constant need to feed my brain small bits of stimuli so I can't focus on anything.

Things can be so loud even in silence. You make the focus of your vision, your vision which it has no relevance or place in.

Nothing can be achieved with so many things being thrown at you at once, maybe for people who can operate under pretenses like that but I am easily distracted and to get caught up in that, it really shows.

What I want to say is that we spend a lot of time wasting time - instead of giving that time purpose. How can I be right with myself when I'm involved with all these things that have nothing to do with me?

How can I feel right in the world when I'm programmed to think there are things I should pay attention to except for what's on my plate?

We can only handle so much at one given time until we can't.

[thegoldenreport]

TANDEM SPIRAL

For a moment, let us reflect on the mysteries of dance. Typically, there is a rhythm or melody that commands you. That guides your steps into mindless movement. It is excellent for producing dopamine and endorphins in the brain. It can relieve stress and boost morale. It is kinetic. It is power.

But what if you were led by a different source? What if you joined a cult? And what if that cult was trying to resurrect an ancient entity from beyond the seventh dimension? Or maybe it’s just a simple community dance class…

I was stumbling through the rainy streets of Memora, a district outside Western Moon. There had been a political demonstration just a few hours prior inside the education building. I meant to pay a visit to that old den for pure nostalgia’s sake. See the place where figures in white lab coats strapped us to dentist chairs, stuck a helmet on our heads, and fed us everything we needed to know through a thick, black wire.

Good times.

The roof was gone for some reason, so water was flooding all three levels. That didn’t make much a difference for the teachers dressed in royal blue waist coats, chanting nursery rhymes and flickering their green toned flashlights. Or the students who, one by one, climbed to the top floor and dove into the rising water below. Again and again in a neverending, sickening cycle…

That’s not the story I’m here to write though. Maybe for a later time.

After an hour of passionate arguing and a 400 meter swim, I was out of th education building. And no longer dry. Unfortunately, my car decided to stop existing at this moment. Just…completely vanished from the parking lot. Or the government needed to borrow it. So my only option was to find a place to take shelter and wait for the rain to stop.

I picked a direction and started walking, holding my arms close to me for warmth. The street was deserted. My feet sloshed through puddles. I trudged forward. I have to walk far, before I noticed an open door down an alleyway to my right. Unmarked. Unknown. I was curious. And freezing. So I went to investigate.

It seemed to be some sort of studio. Large enough. White alabaster walls. A ceiling fan. And a single incandescent lightbulb that barely filled the room with it’s yellow glow. The first thing I saw was a girl in an all black uniform. She appeared to be levitating upon the far back wall. Floating about ten feet in the air and spinning, as if she was the needle of a compass.

Maybe in a weird way, she was.

To her left was young boy dressed in an old green cloak. Only about three feet off the ground and struggling to keep height. Both the boy and girl had an audience of onlookers. Fellow students I presume. And their teacher who pressed herself into a corner, barking out cues and commands.

I’m not sure what I was witnessing. I’m not sure they noticed me or even cared, when I was drawn to the center of the room and opened their brown trunk full of costumes. No one batted an eye when I pulled out a olive green cargo jacket and told them I wanted to try being a witch.

The instructor nodded. Her focused gaze had not changed. I felt simultaneously accepted and positively in the wrong place. There was a latch on the far right. A space not yet occupied. They did not speak to me, but I somehow understood that I was to grab hold of the latch. And from there, allow the levitation to commence.

My feet rose off the floor, slowly at first and my body began to tip to one side. Around and around, I spun on the wall. Staggered and altered. A force I did not recognize was whispering to me. I felt weightless. Something had reached in and turn off the physical. The class turned their attention fully in my direction. Their eyes were glossed over by something silver. It was then I noticed the symbol that was crudely painted over the amber wooden floor. 

I immediately hopped off the wall. Whatever fog that rolled over my brain had now dissipated. I approached the instructor, who still stared at the empty space as if I’d never left. I asked her what she was doing here. What was this power I felt. What the symbol on the floor meant. 

She did not respond, only held out a stack of paper and smiled. I accepted her offer, though I still do not know what that means. And she returned to her class.

And I went home, with a stack of paper. Each page swallowed in mad ramblings about the First Law of Sedated Assistance.

More knowledge is needed, but I will continue my study from afar.

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

'i promise I'll stay on my side of the bed' with lewis and arthur 'only one bed' perhaps? *w* maybe Vivi got injured or sick and lew needs to test without crushing her, and while they're reconciled they're still awkward together but end up octopus-ing within the hour

>:3ccc yess thank you [from this]

--

“I promise I’ll stay on my side of the bed.”

The tension in Lewis’s face and shoulders is reading like he’s not saying something, but Arthur can’t figure out what and it’s frustrating. He’s so used to being able to tell what Lewis is thinking - it’s not like it’s ever been hard, the guy’s not exactly good at hiding his feelings, if anyone was paying attention - but after everything that happened, Arthur just... doesn’t know anymore. He can make guesses, sometimes, but he can never be sure. He hates it. Like he needed another reminder that even though he’s back, Arthur’s still functionally lost his best friend.

Okay. Changing subjects. That’s not helping.

“Can’t you just-?” Lewis can float. He’s never had a problem doing that before, when he wanted to rest or just sit down for a while. He’s not even going to sleep, he’s just sitting and reading - but for some reason he’s insisting he does it on the only available bed. 

“Stop being greedy. It’s not like you’re using all the space. You turn into a tiny ball when you sleep anyway.” Lewis isn’t actually looking at him, glaring daggers at his book instead.

Arthur can’t find the words to say that’s not exactly true anymore, so he gives up and just rolls over, letting his head hit the pillow with a loud fwump. Fine, he thinks vindictively. If Lewis wants to get kicked so bad, let him find out why this is a bad idea the hard way.

---

Lewis is reading peacefully when he feels the bed shift.

He looks down to see Arthur, unfurled from his normal position around a pillow, legs kicking under the thin covers like he’s trying to push something away.

Ordinarily, Lewis wouldn’t be here to see this. He’d be idling on the other end of the room, or more likely, outside trying to clear his head. Ghosts can’t sleep - or at least, he can’t, and he’s tried - so he always tries to find some other way to occupy himself while the other two slept.  Reading is usually a safe bet, or watching something, or drawing, though that last one could... get away from him.

But tonight... tonight he hadn’t wanted to do that. He’d been, well, he’d been lonely. Frankly, he’d been lonely for over a year now, but it had been easier to ignore, before. He had... other things to occupy his mind with. But now he has no revenge quest and it’s just so quiet. It was just a matter of time before he didn’t want to spend the whole night alone again.

I just want to be close to you, I don’t want to be alone felt like too much to say, too fast, and two years ago he wouldn’t have had to say it at all. Arthur would have just known, without him even having to try.

But that was then. That was before. Now everything’s different, and Arthur doesn’t know and Lewis doesn’t know if he can just say it. If Arthur even wants him near.

So he just insisted and didn’t elaborate. And if Arthur could tell he wasn’t saying the whole truth, well, it didn’t matter anyway.

But now Arthur’s twitching in his sleep and this is new. He’s never really been a restless sleeper unless he was having a nightmare, and those are rare, especially when he’s with the others...

...those were rare. Now Lewis realizes that that’s probably not true anymore.

He reaches out, intending to shake him awake and then back off - but instead Arthur’s hand finds his. And then it’s tugging him closer, grip twitching like he’s trying to tighten it but sleep is getting in the way. He makes a sharp sound that’s half muffled by the pillow, almost a whimper but not quite long enough.

Lewis changes tacks. Sets the book down on the nightstand without looking, shifts over and lies down a little more fully, pulls the still-sleeping Arthur closer until he’s nestled against his side, using his arm as a pillow. He goes still pretty quickly once they’re curled up together.

That doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t, he scolds the warm feeling blooming in his chest. Arthur is definitely still angry with him and that doesn’t mean anything.

Ghosts can’t sleep. But lying here like this, it’s easy to let his mind go quiet.

---

For the first time in... he can’t even remember how long, Arthur isn’t jolted awake out of an increasingly weird and terrible dream. He blinks his eyes a few times and then lets them close again, and the first thought he has is a surprised realization that he can’t even remember what he was dreaming about.

He’s warm. He’s comfortable. He feels leaden, and his eyes burn when he tries to open them, but for once that feeling isn’t even accompanied by frustration. He could lie here forever, it feels like.

Then his brain wakes up a little more and he realizes how wrong that is.

He forces his eyes open again and pushes himself up a little on his elbow, trying to look around. Pretty quickly he realizes he’s really close to Lewis. Actually, fuck it, he’s basically on top of Lewis.

Fuck.

Apologies fight for space in his throat as he scrambles away from the warm embrace. God dammit he knew this was a bad idea, but he’d just been expecting to- fall off the bed or get kicked awake because he was being too wiggly or something, not- not-

“Arthur?” A pair of eyelights come into view, blinking at him. 

“Shit- I-” his voice still won’t cooperate.

Lewis moves back too, and that surprises Arthur enough that he stops. It’s not like he’s moving away out of anger or disgust or anything - actually, regardless of how little Arthur can read him right now, every motion is broadcasting sheepish.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...” 

That just adds to the confusion. “What are you ap-a-apologizing for?”

Lewis looks away, fiddling with the end of one of his sleeves. “You, ah. Were having a nightmare, and I... I just thought...”

Wait, that wasn’t him? That was Lewis who brought them so close together?

Whatever. With practiced speed, he shoves all his confusion into a box so he can focus.

“Yeah, s-s-sorry, I should, uh, I should have warned you. Th-that’s why I didn’t, uh... want you to be... there. I’m not... exactly a- a qui- a quiet sleeper. Anymore.”

Lewis takes a moment to consider that. Then he glances over at the electric clock on the other side of the room. “You were pretty quiet for... three or four hours, there.”

Shit, did he really sleep for that long? No wonder he’s so tired and foggy.

...and Lewis was lying there the whole time? And didn’t wake him up?

His throat is getting tight.

He slides off the bed. He’s intending to flee the room, but he pauses.

“Why?” 

“Hm?” Lewis’s hum is fake-casual.

“I mean, you could’ve j-j-just... woken me up.” That’s not really what he’s asking. “Why did you... want to- to be here, anyway?”

“I don’t know, I...” he trails off, looking away.

Assuming he’s not going to explain, Arthur turns around again. He doesn’t get two steps before Lewis speaks.

“I missed you.”

Arthur starts to turn back around, to ask what? But Lewis is already continuing, with an air that suggests he’s been rehearsing this in his head.

“I’ve been missing you for... since...” He leaves that sentence unfinished. That’s fine; they both know what goes there anyway. “And I thought... maybe you wouldn’t mind if I... stayed close. For tonight. I’m just...” his gaze is fixed on his hands. “Making up for lost time.”

Dammit, his throat hurts and it’s getting legitimately hard to speak now. “W-well, I, uh, I don’t... don’t know if a f-f-f- a few hours is gonna put a dent in... th-that, but...”

Lewis finally looks up and meets his eyes. Almost hopeful.

Arthur walks back over and sits back down on the bed, letting himself lean against Lewis just a little. “I... I am st-still pretty tired.”

The corners of Lewis’s eyes crinkle into a smile. “Well, then... I think we can sleep for a little while longer.”

[ichor-and-symbiosis]

Obedient. (Shigaraki x f!Reader; NSFW)

Commission for @kazooli​.

Shigaraki knows you are upset. Not that he needs to use his intuitive perceptiveness to notice your downtrodden mood -- you are, and always will be, an open book of emotions. 

You try to be on your best behavior. You always try. Nobody needs to see their teammate moping around the decrepit hideout when everyone has their own problems to deal with. It could always be worse, you tell yourself. And you need to stay strong for your leader. 

But he knows. Finds you pouting on the ripped up sofa, even though you are the one who should come to him when called. You look up at him with your doe-eyed, downtrodden expression, and Shigaraki’s expressionless eyes sweep over you before walking past. Your gaze lingers on his broad back, wishing you could reach out and grasp the fabric of his coat just to keep him around a little longer. 

He pauses in front of the door. “Come with me,” he commands, and you are on your feet before you even think to ask why or where you are going.

-

The exhilaration of walking by your leader’s side through winding streets is enough to keep your mouth shut. Better to be quiet for now, anyway. Better to move like a shadow, like Shigaraki’s shadow. It must be a mission. You keep your eyes and ears sharp and primed, ready to take on the next challenge. 

Until Dabi’s words ring through your mind and you feel yourself deflating all over again.

Shigaraki pays no attention to you. He leads and leads, guides you towards a destination only he knows, and you are grateful for the chance to simply follow. You try not to question him when he stops at a food stall. Two orders of takoyaki, spoken with a quiet, serious request. Your stomach grumbles and you grip it in embarrassment. When was the last time you ate?

The worker holds out your meal. Shigaraki looks at you expectantly, and you realize he wants you to take it. And you do, rushed and mousy as you thank the worker, and then you spend the next minute mentally berating yourself for saying thank you at all. You are a villain. Why would you thank a random nobody? You should be thanking your leader instead. And you do.

He offers a grunt and keeps walking. Your heart flutters at the sound. 

You end your journey on a rooftop. The building is not familiar to you, and you doubt Shigaraki knows it either. A random building with a roof that smells like asphalt and cigarettes. You take a deep breath as the wind wafts the takoyaki steam toward you, and your stomach growls demandingly. 

You wedge yourselves into a narrow space, hidden from surveillance or anyone who may come onto the roof. Your only view is that of Shigaraki sitting across from you and you are perfectly okay with that. Very okay with that, in fact, especially since his legs are forced to bend and rest on either side of you. Your only choice is to sit cross-legged for his comfort, and you try your very best to avoid staring at his crotch.

It’s right there in front of you. He just brazenly has his legs spread out and brushing along your knees and you shove the takoyaki into your drooling mouth to keep yourself occupied. All you would need to do is bend forward, and it wouldn’t be the takoyaki in your mouth anymore. It would be something else entirely, something musky and warm and solid, and you squirm in your spot as heat pools below your belly. 

Shigaraki silently eats the first stick of takoyaki and sets the box aside. You pause your eating and wait, because he has that pensive look in his eyes right now. His arms are limp and resting on his knees, and you allow yourself to admire his beautiful hands. Beautiful to you, long and slender fingers, blue veins peeking through pale skin, oh how desperately you want him to touch you - 

“So.” The word hangs in the air between you. You stare at him, obediently waiting for him to continue. He doesn’t look at you. “What happened.” 

“U-um … “ You wrack your brain as your anxiety builds. Did you do something wrong? Were his plans compromised? “I’m sorry, I don’t - “ 

“You’ve been looking like a kicked dog all day.” 

“Oh.” You muster up a weak smile. “It’s nothing serious. Maybe I was just hungry, or … you know. Present circumstances and all that.” 

“Don’t lie to me.” 

Perceptive. You don’t want to burden him. It really was such a silly disagreement with Dabi. “Really, it’s - “

He says your name. You look at him, transfixed by his solemn stare. His eyes are sharp, commanding. “Tell me.” 

And you do. Nothing at first, trapped in your throat, and then all at once.

“Dabi is just such an asshole,” you blurt out, and Shigaraki’s snort encourages you to word vomit. “He took me with him on a scouting mission and things didn’t go as planned and he kept blaming me! He said it was my fault and that - and that I’m … useless.” Your head hangs in shame as you stare hard into your lap. “He said I’m useless and that the League doesn’t need me. So I’ve been thinking all day about that. If I wasn’t useful to society and I’m not useful to the League, then ... “ You don’t know where your trail of thought was going. “I don’t want to feel useless,” you whisper. “I don’t want to hold anyone back. I don’t want to waste your time like - like right now.” 

Shigaraki waits for you to finish. He looks a little surprised. “That’s a lot.”

Your mouth gapes like a fish before you shut it tight and dig your nails into your thighs, hoping the pain would counteract your burning embarrassment threatening to swallow you whole. “Sorry. I talk a lot.” 

He eyes you with a calculated expression while you silently flounder in your awkwardness. “Come here,” he suddenly says, and your confusion makes him grow impatient. “Turn around. Back to my front.” He motions to the space between his legs. “Right here, puppy girl.” 

You nearly choke on your gasp.

Your body moves mechanically, too stunned by shock to make your body look anything other than enticing. You sit as he directed, back to his front, and wrap your arms around your knees as you try to calm your breathing. A gap remains between you, because there is no way Shigaraki would want you pressed up against him, except he does and you let out a startled squeak when he places his arms beneath your thighs, spreads your legs over his, and makes you lean back onto him. 

“What are you doing?” you breathe out, heart stammering in your chest as you soak up his body heat and pray to god that this moment will never end. 

“Testing out your obedience,” he off-handedly comments, and your clothed cunt immediately becomes flooded from the vibrations of his voice, the low rumble so close to your ear. His hands move to grip your forearms, and you jolt at the contact, all wired up with frayed nerves and anticipation. “I want to know what makes you think I’m wasting my time here.” 

“W-we’re talking about me.” 

“Yeah. And you know what I learned?” His mouth is close to your ear now. You shiver at the feeling of his breath tickling your skin. “I learned that you’re not at the top of your game right now. You’re drowning - “ He taps a finger to your temple. “ - from all of these fuzzy little thoughts in your head. And I can’t have an obedient puppy girl if she’s thinking too much.” 

“I - “ 

“Quiet.” One hand cups your throat, middle finger poised over your pulse. The hold is firm and encompassing around your neck. It makes you tremble with desire. “We have to get rid of those thoughts, don’t we?” His other hand brazenly cups your mound, and you let out the most pathetic sound of your life. “There’s a lot of ways to release pent up feelings,” he continues conversationally, fingers delving past the waistband of your bottoms. “I’m feeling charitable enough to help you out.” 

Your endless stream of thoughts fizzle out as soon as he finds your swollen clit. “Thank you,” you sob, gripping his arm and gyrating your hips for more of his touch. “Thank you, thank you, thank you - “ 

The hand at your throat moves up to cover your mouth. “Shhh.” Fingertip moves lower, runs itself through the slickness oozing out of your tight heat. “Relax.” You whimper brokenly, slump back against him as he rubs your clit in feather-light strokes. His hand moves from your mouth and rests on your temple, fingers buried in your hair. “This is what you’re good for.”

Shigaraki is not an expert by any means. Sometimes he loses his momentum, rubs too hard or too slowly, doesn’t really know how to set a proper pace. But you have never felt more wet before. Never has your heart raced this quickly, never has a simple touch driven you to mindless pleasure. 

He plunges inside you unexpectedly, shushing you once more as you let out a wordless cry, and even through the pain of being stretched far too soon, you feel your pussy loosen to accommodate your beloved leader’s thick fingers. He works you open good and proper, thorough in his thrusting, forcing you to take him down to the last knuckle. You lie there and take it, moaning and writhing in his lap as he fucks your sloppy cunt. 

“Just let it all out,” he murmurs in your ear. “It’s not good to keep the bad shit locked away inside. Or else one day … “ His fingers ease out of your pussy and leave a trail of juices clinging to his fingertips. You try your best not to whine as he brings his fingers up for inspection. “ … It’s all gonna come pouring out.” 

You don’t know what he is trying to do. You don’t know what he wants from you when his fingers tap against your bottom lip, but your mouth falls open all the same to let him smear your juices onto your tongue. A pathetic, desperate whimper escapes as you taste yourself on his fingers. And you taste him. Your leader’s fingers are buried in your warm mouth and your stretched cunt contracts from dizzy exhilaration. 

Your tongue licks away the evidence of your arousal, and for one delirious moment you think you hear Shigaraki hum in approval. He pops the digits out of your mouth and you begin to ramble before you can stop yourself. “Y-you don’t … have to do this,” you shyly stutter, cheeks burning from shame as his hand drops back between your trembling thighs. “I was being dumb, I’ll get over it, you d-don’t have to worry about me like this - “ 

You break off into a choked gasp as he traps your clit between two fingers and slowly runs them up and down. 

“It’s fine,” he murmurs, lets your head fall back onto his shoulder. “A leader takes care of his subordinates.” 

A burst of emotions burns your chest at the statement. How could something sound so detached yet intimate? You wonder what this means to him. You wonder if he’s done this for anyone else. The very thought of it makes tears well up behind your closed eyelids, but you do not let them fall. This is your special moment with your leader. Here and now, he chose to take care of you. You focus on those words instead, focus on how full they make you feel, just as his fingertip rubs your soaked entrance and slips back inside with ease. 

“Just trust me,” he murmurs. “I’m gonna train this greedy puppycunt to only think about me.”

Shigaraki keeps talking. He is so, so chatty, and it is hard to focus on his monologuing through the sound of your wet pussy being played with so thoroughly and invasively. You bury your face in his neck to stifle the whiny demands on the tip of your tongue, ignoring your monumental need for him to stop talking and just kiss you. It’s a selfish thought. Your leader is speaking to you. You should listen, you should let him take care of you, you have to trust him, you have to chase the high and let go, just as he always does on the battlefield. 

“You’re doing so well for me.” 

A heavy pit of pleasure builds deep within. 

“Always so obedient.” 

The thumb buried in your hair strokes slowly. 

“My favorite puppy.”

Your pussy clenches, fighting to suck him in and keep him inside. 

“Mine.” 

You come with a shrill keen, trembling and shaking through your orgasm as Shigaraki’s fingers pump in and out, squelching and sloshing your juices as loudly as he can. Your mind is adrift, completely gone. All you can do is lay limp in his arms and breathe heavily, letting him settle your underwear back over your messy cunt. 

There is silence for a moment. Only the sound of your breathing. His hand settles over the top of your head properly this time, ruffling your hair in a movement that might have been accidental if not for the fact that Shigaraki never makes mistakes. “I like you like this,” he says. “No thoughts or worries. Just a properly trained cunt and an obedient subordinate.” You smile a little at that. If only he knew how badly you wanted to be used by him. “I decide who’s useful to me, not Dabi. You’re around for a reason, got it?” 

Your heart aches with happiness. “Yes sir. I’m yours.” 

[iwaslut]

— 𝖌𝖑𝖚𝖙𝖙𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖘

this is my piece for @karasunosimp’s “it’s raining milk” collab!! this is my first time ever participating in a collab, so thank you for letting me join <3

milf!sasha braus

fem!reader, nsfw content, large age gap, wlw, oral sex.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ♡ 18+ CONTENT

Your job as a babysitter had quite a few perks.

One: The pay is good. You were rather reluctant to resort to babysitting as a part-time job but, desperate times call for desperate measures, especially when you’re trying to earn some form of income while putting yourself through your last year of University. So you were pleasantly surprised when you had been offered more than you normally would be compensated when babysitting.

Two: The kid you babysit, Kaya, is an absolute angel. Due to her rather withdrawn nature, Kaya typically keeps herself busy by quietly reading in her room or watching the television in the living room. As time has passed and Kaya’s slowly become accustomed to your presence, she no longer seems as apprehensive to interact with you as she once was. It’s obvious to you that she’s a good kid. Although she’d rather keep to herself, she’s always polite when you converse and sometimes she’ll even ask if you want to join her and watch a show together. She has pretty good taste in shows, you think as you watch “The Winx Club” together.

Three: Miss Braus is one of the hottest fucking women you’ve seen in your life. She looks fucking incredible for a woman her age and you were honestly shocked to learn that she’s as old as she is. Whenever you interact with the woman, you have to physically restrain yourself from allowing your eyes to lower; her shirts are always exceptionally tight, clinging like a second-skin to her tits. It’s only when she turns around to leave through the front door that you let yourself check out the older woman. She has a damn nice ass.

“Hello, Miss Braus.” With your tote bag resting on your shoulder, you step inside of the home as the brunette warmly ushers you in.

“Miss Braus makes me feel old. How many times do I have to tell you that Sasha will do just fine, sweetheart?” She complains, playfully scolding you as you slip off your sneakers by the entrance of the door. Her hands are firmly placed on the curve of her hips when you lift your head to offer her a sheepish grin.

“Sorry, Mi—Sorry, Sasha. Force of habit, I guess.” You bring up one hand to rub at the back of your neck, brows lightly pinching together when you survey the space to see Kaya nowhere in sight. “Eh, pardon me, Sasha, but where’s Kaya at?”

Although you’re well aware of how reserved her daughter is, you’ve come to expect Kaya to be curled up on the couch reading a novel whenever you come over to babysit her. You guys have fallen into the habit where you’ll cook her lunch as soon as you arrive while she reads nearby so it’s rather unusual that the blonde girl is nowhere to be seen.

“She’s at her father’s house for the day.” For a brief moment, the brunette’s expression pinches up: distaste for the blond man made evident on her face. You don’t know too much about Sasha’s ex-husband, just that he’s some renowned chef that frequently travels a lot. Niccolo is his name if you recall correctly. It’s not your place to pry so you choose to not ask any questions regarding the matter and listen when Sasha slips little tidbits of information regarding her ex-husband.

Wait. What?

“Kaya’s not here?” If Kaya’s not here then why were you still scheduled to babysit today?

You’re drawn out of your train of thought when Sasha places a gentle hand on your shoulder. You startle at the little amount of space in between the two of you.

“Nope!” She cheerfully exclaims as she slips your bag off of your shoulders. You’re left in a stupor, wondering what the fuck is going on, but you shake it off and follow Sasha, who has turned around and is now making her way in the direction of the kitchen.

“I thought we could chat today!” Her back is turned towards you as you take a seat at one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter. She floats around the kitchen, grabbing items from the fridge and cabinets. Your eyes glue themselves to the thin sliver of skin that appears when Sasha’s shirt rides up as she reaches for something in one of the upper cabinets.

“O-oh, okay.” This turn of events is rather strange, but you’re not complaining. Sasha’s a really wonderful conversationalist: the conversation flows naturally between you two and you’re always left in stitches at the jokes she cracks. Also, you get the opportunity to openly ogle her with her back facing you as she cooks something on the stove. You’re not going to pass up on an opportunity like this.

“I’m making us some lunch, but it’s going to take some time to cook.” You’re knocked out of your reverie once again and quickly avert your gaze from Sasha’s ass to meet her eyes. You desperately hope you were fast enough that she didn’t catch you. Her expression doesn’t give anything away so you think you’re good.

“Sounds good to me! Thank you so much for making lunch.” Your mouth waters at the thought of eating Sasha’s cooking. Although you’ve never tried it, Kaya’s always boasted about how her parents are both great cooks. You’re looking forward to trying her food since Kaya speaks so highly of it.

“Of course, honey! It’s no issue especially for such a sweet girl.” Your thighs automatically squeeze together. You mentally thank a higher being that the counter hides your lower half because that would be painfully embarrassing for you if your employer saw how turned on they made you by uttering only two words.

You watch as Sasha floats around the kitchen, grabbing some more ingredients from the fridge and different cabinets before tossing them all together on the stove to simmer. You fidget in your seat, never one who was good at sitting still with nothing to occupy your attention. You feel that it would be rude for you to pull out your phone and scroll through social media in Sasha’s presence.

“There we go! Now we just have to let this simmer for a while,” she exclaims, turning around to face you and clapping her hands together. A pretty smile graces her face and her features light up when you return it with a grin of your own.

“Since it's going to take some time, how about we get comfy?”

Sasha pats the seat next to her on the couch, prompting you to slip out of the stool you’re sitting on to join her. You make sure to maintain a respectable distance that Sasha effectively destroys when she scoots closer to you until your knees are brushing against one another’s. The lack of space between you two makes you more nervous than you’d like to admit, but you don’t move from your spot.

The air is stolen straight out of your lungs when Sasha places a delicate hand on your knee.

“You know, you’re not really discreet when you’re checking me out, honey,” Sasha notes.

“Huh—what?” It takes your brain a moment to process what Sasha’s said, especially as her hand steadily inches up your thigh. Once you realize what she’s said, embarrassment crashes over you in a cold wave.

“Oh my god, I am so so so sorry Miss Braus. Please forgive—.”

Your words die out when Sasha places the hand that’s not on your thigh on your cheek, forcing you to look her way.

“You talk too much, sweetheart,” Sasha affectionately chides before she presses her lips to yours, effectively shutting you up in the process. You’re frozen still for a moment. Is this actually fucking happening? When you feel Sasha move her lips against yours, you realize that yes, this is, in fact, fucking happening.

Any of your prior hesitations is thrown out the window when you feel Sasha’s hands slip underneath the hem of your t-shirt. Your tongue traces the seam of her lips before Sasha parts them, letting you in. Your hands rest on her hips, urging and guiding her to seat herself on top of your lap.

You smile against her lips as a startled gasp leaves them when you firmly squeeze her ass.

“Too much clothing,” she rasps out while pulling her shirt over her head. You’re quick to follow suit and tug your own t-shirt off just in time to watch Sasha unclasp her bra. Her breasts spill out from underneath the constraining fabric and jiggle before settling against her chest.

As much as you want to lean forward and lather her tits in attention, you’re eager to switch the position you’re currently in. Sasha’s back hits the couch’s cushions with a quiet thump as your frame leers above her.

Her eyes widen in brief surprise at the action, but Sasha’s not granted much time to think when you swoop down to kiss her again. It’s sloppier this time around. You have no clue when, or if, you’ll ever get this chance again and you’re determined to make the most of it. You want to ingrain the taste of Sasha into your brain.

Her hands tangle together behind your neck when you begin your descent down her body. You lick the bead of sweat trailing down the column of her neck and gently nip at the skin there. Not hard enough to make any marks, but just hard enough to elicit a gasp from Sasha.

“Fuck. Just like that.”

She throws her head back when you swirl your tongue around the hardened bud of her nipple while your fingers roll her other one. You lavish her tits in attention, sucking and nipping at them until blood rushes to the surface of her skin. When you lean back, you mentally pat yourself on the back. Her tits are a mess, covered in hickies of varying sizes.

You pepper kisses to her stomach, relishing in how soft and plush her skin is, before tossing her legs over your shoulders.

“You look so good like this, Sasha. So pretty and desperate for me to eat you out,” you coo. You hook your arms underneath her thighs, grabbing fistfuls of the fat of her ass until she’s positioned in a way you like.

“Hurry up and put your mouth on me already.” She tightens her thighs around your head and digs her heels into your back, urging you to get on with it already. If this was any other situation, you’d draw it out a little longer until Sasha was on the verge of tears and begging you to eat her out, but you’re feeling impatient. You can’t lie and say you’re not eager to have a taste of her.

Before Sasha can complain at how long you’re taking, you dive in. A startled moan tears its way out of her throat when you lick a long, deep stripe along her dripping slit. You lap at her cunt like a woman starved, devouring her whole. You circle her clit with your tongue before latching onto it.

“Shit. I’m so close. You’re doing s’good.”

Her back arches off of the sofa as her hands bury themselves into your hair. She digs the blunt edges of her nails into your scalp and the slight splintering pain has you moaning into her cunt.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Shit! I’m cumming.”

She sharply digs her heels into the muscle of your upper back and she cums with a loud cry. You hold her in place as she convulses, bucking her hips wildly as she rides out her orgasm. You gently suckle on her clit and run your tongue through her folds until she’s whimpering.

The incessant beeping of the timer that Sasha had previously set startles the two of you. From in between her thighs, you stare up at her with a crooked grin. A mixture of her juices and cum coats your lips and chin. Her eyes dart to the pink of your tongue when you lick your lips clean. You use the back of your hand to wipe your chin, which only serves to smear the liquid more.

“Thanks for the dessert, Sasha. I’m looking forward to tasting your cooking now.”

[dynyamight]

fluffy prompts! 211 please! :) -sneakers <3

send me a writting ask

211. We’re a team, remember?

If he had the option, Midoriya would prefer to patrol alone.

And, everyone seems to be baffled about it.

“Can you blame us? You don’t look like the lone wolf type, you know.” Shinsou had mentioned before, back in the locker rooms.

Blinking, Midoriya tilted his head over to him, a few lockers away. “I didn’t know lone wolves had a look.”

“They don’t. But, if they did, they wouldn’t look like you.” Shinsou sighed, bringing a towel up to his neck. He dabbed gingerly at the sweat. “Though, I guess with your power, you wouldn’t need another person to weigh you down.”

“It’s not about power. I just don’t want to drag anyone into immense danger.” Midoriya admitted, slipping his arms out of his hero costume.

Immediately, he felt a sharp jolt of pain cease his arms. He winced, looking down at the stitches around his shoulders, now tightened, fresh, and sensitive.

The wound, as well as the others littering his body, are reminders of that danger he worries for others. Each fight is with a different villain, varying in strength and quirk. But, they all have the same intentions when battling Midoriya.

Enemies want him dead. Simple as that.

Sometimes, even everyday people wish him dead.

And, it’s the type of danger he wouldn’t want anyone to face.

Shinsou shrugged, having tossed his wraps in his locker. “You say that, but all heroes are bound to be in danger, at some point. Aren’t they?”

“That’s not—“

Midoriya halts, immobilized. At first, he worries the new frozen sensation is an enemy quirk activating, from their recent shift on the clock. He instantly cursed himself for not being attentive.

But, a split second later, he realized from the tooth eating grin from Shinsou, that it was actually his doing.

He had been in the middle of unbuckling his utility belt. So much for that.

“Life and death. It’s the real game we’re all playing out in the city.” Shinsou stated, buttoning up his civilian clothes. “And, you swear you are its only player, Midoriya.”

The spell finally broke. Finally able to regain his movements, Midoriya gasped a deep, willful breath. “I-I just don’t want anyone to worry about me.”

“Worrying is a part of teamwork.” Shinsou insisted, shaking his head, “If we didn’t worry, then everyone would be reckless, without a care in the world. People wouldn’t care, and then, there would be no sense of compassion, anywhere.”

Pulling off his stirrups, Midoriya weakly laughed, unable to say anything else.

Yeah, that seems to be something he does too often, than not. Reckless. Spontaneous. Relying on gut feeling.

But, Midoriya cares, he does. Just, maybe not the way the rest of the world does.

So willing to give himself, grow tired and weak. When others just want him to rest.

Midoriya left shortly after that. He felt a little guilty, leaving Shinsou earlier than usual. He hoped his friend knew that he appreciated his advice, as well as his honest truth.

However, he had lost the will to continue the rather self-exposing conversation. Besides, the exhaustion always settles into his bones, the moment he stops moving and starts thinking.

Alas, he has a long way back home; clock out of the agency building, take the elevator, walk to the train station, street stop, and up the elevator to his apartment.

Which leads him to now; standing outside his apartment complex, shivering under nothing, but a hoodie and sweats.

His teeth chatter, behind his face mask, as he tries to jiggle the keys inside. The winter night breeze burning his nose cold.

A click resounds his brain, and relief washes over him. The moment he steps inside, the guard he feels, tight in his shoulders, drops finally. Closing the door gently from behind, Midoriya lets out a long needed sigh.

Home. He’s back home.

Quietly, Midoriya offers a pardon of intrusion, as he shuffles his shoes off at the front. He sets down his work duffle bag on the floor, mentally promising to wash his hero costume and the undergarments, early in the morning.

He wishes he could at least put them in the washer. But, the weight of his eyelids feel so heavy; he stumbles into his bedroom simply on instinct, rather than sight.

Slowly, Midoriya pushes the cracked door open. With quiet footsteps, he walks to the bed, towards one open space, ready for his arrival.

The other space was filled, obvious by the big lump of covers right beside it.

Lifting the bedsheets, Midoriya simply worms himself inside. He makes sure to leave a gap between him and the occupied space, as to not alert his presence. He even makes sure to keep his chilled toes curled, towards himself.

It was futile. The body shifts, and suddenly, a tired, glaring pair of red eyes look at him. “..Took you long enough.”

Midoriya’s heart tightens, feeling bad. “Ah, it was supposed to be a double shift, but then, they needed me for an extra team up. Everything changed at the last minute.”

Twelve hours, out roaming the city. And, then, a whole team mission added on top of all of that. More or less, two days out in the city. Draining didn’t even cover the amount of tired he felt.

“Tch. ‘Course you did..” Under the covers, a warm pair of arms outreach towards Midoriya. They wrap around his waist. “Had me fucking waiting.”

Midoriya smiles, bringing his own body closer to the warmth of limbs. Cold and hot legs entangled together. Arms at each other’s waist. Foreheads touching.

“I didn’t mean to make you wait, Kacchan. Sorry.” He whispers, closing his eyes.

He hears Bakugou click his tongue, before there’s a hard pinch at his cheek. Midoriya whines at the pain, but Bakugou pays no mind.

“Send a damn text, next time.” Bakugou hisses.

“Okay, okay! My face s’hurting, Kacchan.”

He doesn’t need to see Bakugou’s intense glare; he can feel it staring right at the space between his brows. However, instead there’s a soothing hand that runs through Midoriya’s curls. “Gross. You’re freezing as hell, and you didn’t even shower, either?”

Midoriya shakes his head. “I will do it later.” He sleepily says.

“And your clothes?”

“..Will do it later.”

Bakugou growls, and Midoriya mentally prepares for the onslaught of curses and complaints at his lazy attitude.

But, it never happens. Instead, Bakugou pulls himself closer to Midoriya, head nestled in the crook of his neck. “S’fine.” He huffs.

“I swear I will do it tomorrow morning.” Midoriya offers weakly.

“Don’t bother.” Bakugou breath tickles around Midoriya’s ears. “Sleep in. I’ll do it.”

“No, please. I will—“

“Did I fucking stutter?” Bakugou mutters, and there’s a small pull at his ear. “I said don’t bother. And, I mean it.”

“Then, I will make breakfast.”

“No.”

“..How about lunch?”

“I said no.”

“Kacchan, please—“

“Fucking hell, go to sleep!” Bakugou yells into his ear, tightening his grip around Midoriya. “Just— I got all of tomorrow. Sleep.”

Midoriya shrugs against the embrace, heart feeling heavy. “I can do it all, too.”

“M’not saying you can’t. I know you can.” Bakugou whispers, running his fingers through his curls again, “But, you keep forgetting that you don’t have do shit alone all the damn time.”

“I just prefer—“

“To do it all on your own. Yeah. I fucking know.” Bakugou sighs, “But, we’re—“

There’s a moment of hesitation, obvious on Bakugou’s end. However, after a deep breath out, Bakugou wills himself to speak. “..We’re a team, remember?”

Midoriya’s face reddens instantly. A team. That’s another way to put it.

Dating. They’re dating. Almost a year now.

And, Bakugou even remotely mentioning it never fails to make Midoriya feel the fanny flutters all over again.

“Y-Yeah.” Midoriya barely voices, wobbly smiling, “We are.”

“Then, let me do shit.” Bakugou mutters, his face feeling hot against Midoriya’s neck, “Let me be there for you.”

“You don’t have to..” Midoriya insists feebly.

“I ain’t doing it out of force. Even if it’s just for one day, I want to help you.”

Sighing, Midoriya brings his hand to Bakugou’s chin, lifting up his head. Their gazes meet. “You mean that?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes. “God, how much more do I got to fucking spell it out to you? Yes.”

Letting a soft snort, Midoriya inches his face close. “It’s like you love me, or something.” He teases.

“Shut it.” However, there’s a slight upturn in the corners of Bakugou’s lips. “You’re the fucking worst.”

Midoriya smiles back. “Thank you for putting up with me, Kacchan.”

“You put up with my shit, just as much.” Bakugou mumbles.

“Yeah, but I have problems.”

“Don’t we all.”

Midoriya laughs feebly, shaking his head. He closes his eyes, losing the strength to keep them open any longer. “Thank you for worrying about me..” He plants a small kiss onto Bakugou’s lips, before settling his head onto his shoulders.

“Hah? Who said anything about ‘worry’? I ain’t fucking worried.” Bakugou growls, “Never have been. Never will be.”

But, Midoriya knows better. Especially with how close Bakugou holds him, and the way he continues to rub a comforting hand onto his back, making sure to avoid his stitched shoulder.

Warming him up. Lulling him to sleep. Allowing him to let go of all his stresses.

Midoriya smiles himself to sleep.

[americxn]

Little Witch | James March x reader

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ As part of the coven, Cordelia sends you to the Hotel Cortez to carry out a favour for James Patrick March, who has promised to pay the coven handsomely in return for your help. However, in using your gifts at the hotel, you reveal more than intended, igniting James’ interest in you.  words: 4000k + (not proofread) 

                                                  .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

    “Hello?” You pivoted slowly, neck craned to take in the glorious room you found yourself stood in. Calling out again, you spotted the front desk at the back of the room and headed towards it, the red velvet carpet soft beneath your feet.     “Is anyone there?” You braced your hands on the cool wood on the desk, leaning forwards in a futile attempt to peer behind the door against the far wall of the reception that had been left open a crack.      Huffing, you slung your designer bag from off your shoulder and dumped it on the floor. Why the hell was nobody here? Surely Cordelia didn’t forget to notify the staff to your arrival.     The creaking of the door behind the desk as it swung open startled you and you looked up to see a short, stout looking woman with big glasses that framed her round face in an adorable manner.        “Hi, do you work here?” You questioned tentatively.       “Yes, I’m Iris. Sorry, have you been waiting for long?” She reached under the desk, pulling out a large leather bound book and flipping it open.        “No, it’s fine,” you paused, noting the book she began to flick through.        “I, erm, I don’t have a reservation or anything.” The sound of the little women flicking through the pages of her book stopped abruptly, the large room falling utterly quiet. You cleared your throat, the wailing and screaming filling the deepest part of your brain threatening to spill into your consciousness; Cordelia had warned you about this. That this hotel, this glorious hotel, was certainly not as pleasant as it seemed. And you had felt it the moment you stepped out of the Uber that had deposited you on the front steps of the building, could hear the suffering in the back of your head, people pleading and crying. An awful feeling settling over you, a warning and a promise. Stay away or die.      You steeled your nerve and forced the growing butterflies in your stomach to settle.      I know what I’m doing.     “I’m y/n, I’ve come from New Orleans. Were you not notified of my arrival?”     The woman started, a guilty red tinged blooming on her cheeks.      “Oh, of course, of course. Sorry about this,” she paused to gesture around the empty room. “Busy week.” An awkward silence fell as she seemed to notice the utter stillness radiating from the entire building, and cleared her throat, coming round the your side of the desk and beckoning you.     “Follow me.” You did, stooping briefly to retrieve your bag and sling it over one shoulder. The woman led you up a shallow set of steps set into the far wall of the room, and into an open hallway. A few turns later and you found yourself at a cozy looking bar, the room opening beyond into a generous dining room, with multiple sets of tables and chairs occupying the space.    “Liz!” Iris called, pulling your attention to her and the woman who walked out from behind the bar.    “This is y/n. I assume March will come and collect her soon, but who knows with that man.” The last part was muttered on a tired sounding breath. “Keep her company, will you.”     “Of course.” Liz, as Iris had called her, hurried to the other side of the bar and you took a seat at a barstool, thanking the receptionist as she walked away.       “Can I get you a drink?” Liz asked you, leaning both her elbows on the bar and gazing at you with curiosity.        Your mouth opened to respond, but you paused briefly as you remembered your unfamiliar surroundings and the undead man you were going to meet and closed you mouth, shaking your head.      “I’m alright, thank you though.” A small small spread on Liz’s face.      “You don’t need to be worried, you know, although I don’t blame you.” She pushed off the bar as she spoke, taking up a cloth and setting herself before a pile of glasses, picking one up and beginning to polish it. “That Supreme of yours would bring this building down with half a thought if anything were to happen to you, I’m sure.” You huffed a small laugh in response.     “It might take a few of us to pull off something like that but yes,” you paused, unsure of how much this person knew and how much you should let on. “But I can’t lie, this building feels miserable.” You explained with a small shiver as the hairs on your neck raised in agreement. Liz chuckled. “You’re not the first to say that.”      You smiled slightly, a smile that turned into a grimace as the incessant wailing in your head got a fraction louder. “They agree too.” You muttered quietly. Liz cocked her head, a stack on freshly polished glasses beginning to pile up beside her.       “Especially...” you paused, pulling out a tendril of your power from the bottomless well inside you and allowing it to follow the call of the loudest voice that had filled your ears since you first set foot in the building. “Mary.” The mention of her name was like a catalyst, breaking through any sort of barrier between you and the suffering spirits of the hotel and a series of horrendous images flooding your mind. “Oh god,” you grimaced at the blood and gore that was projected in your head, a snapshot from some time ago, on the eleventh floor in a room directly above you. Your nose crinkled in distaste as you blinked the images away. “Poor girl.”       “What a helpful little tool.” Liz mused, setting the half-polished glass and cloth on the surface of the bar and looking at you intently. “Who else can you hear?”      You paused again to listen, but a scuffing sound on the carpet from the hall outside the bar caught your attention and you turned in your seat, a mere second before a man stepped into view.       “Ah, yes!” The dark-haired man exclaimed as he clasped his hands behind his back. You couldn’t help the one eyebrow that you involuntarily raised at the sudden appearance of this man, as you took in his odd clothes, the dark pencil moustache and the accent that you just couldn’t place. He wore a scarlet handkerchief around his neck, a stark contrast to the white shirt he wore beneath a dark waistcoat. “Mary.” He hummed. “Such a pretty thing, but my god was she loud.” He barked a jovial laugh as he stepped further into the room. You took an unsure glance at Liz, who met you gaze briefly before going back to her glasses.      “Are you...?” You trailed off, trying to get a reading on the man but coming up short.      “James Patrick March.” He spoke proudly, his chin raised slightly as if he were addressing a room full of important people.      You tore your gaze from him, slipping off the stool and donning your bag once more. “Right,” you nodded, “I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you.” You said as you walked up to him, confused as to why his presence filled the room with blessed silence, like a blockade to the screaming walls and voices that had swirled around your head just moments before. But you meant it. He seemed to draw you in, his little smile somewhat endearing as he held out an arm for you to take, which you did, and found, yet again, that he was impenetrable, that you couldn’t hear or see anything when you touched him.     Cordelia had warned you of him, had apologised for choosing to send you to the hotel and gave you a brief rundown of his history, of the terrible things he had done in this hotel, his hotel. But now, as he led you into an ornate elevator arm to arm, taking your bag from your shoulder and putting it on his own in a gentlemanly gesture, happily making small talk with you as the elevator door closed, the only vibes you were getting from him was that of a harmless teddy bear.      You had to suppress a smile as you responded to his question of: “I trust you got here easily? How long did it take from New Orleans?” And then getting caught in the flow of his own rambling: “I wish I could visit there. I only went once before getting stuck in this building. Exquisite food. Oh and even better music.”     You found it incredibly endearing.      The elevator doors opened and you allowed James to lead to into the hallway, peering up at him as he continued to talk.     “Ah, here we are.” He exclaimed, pushing open the door labelled ‘55′ and allowing you to go in before you. The room was decorated in an odd sort of outdated way which somehow managed to still be cozy and welcoming; red carpet, dark oak furniture and strangely shaped light fittings. There was a large table in the centre of the room, a bed pushed against the wall beyond that and a small sitting area to the right. Looking to the left, you spied a door, open a crack to reveal a clean-looking bathroom beyond.      James pulled you out a chair and gestured for you to sit before hurrying round the table and situating himself opposite you.      “I must say,” he began, surveying you as you pulled your bag onto your lap and began taking out the items necessary for the location spell that you were to perform for James. He continued, leaning forward to brace his elbows on the wood of the table, “it has been a while since I have had a run-in with a witch. And an even longer time since I’ve had relations with your coven.”     Pulling out two large candles, you met his gaze and smiled softly. “Well, I’m happy to help.” You said mildly, just wanting to perform this spell for him and leave. This hotel just didn’t sit right with you and you were hesitant to spend more time than necessary within its walls. The room fell into a somewhat awkward silence as you pulled out the rest of the contents of your bag: a large map of Los Angeles and a thin, cruel looking blade. You cleared your throat quietly as you spread the map upon the table, James retracting his elbows to give you space, watching your every move intently.      You placed a candle at each side of the map, lighting them with half a thought and a lazy flick of your wrist. The impressed expression that fell over James’ face caused a barely suppressed soft smile to spread over your lips, a strange of sense of satisfaction unfurling in your chest.      Palming the small knife, you met his interested gaze. “Did you bring a connection with you?” You had assumed that Cordelia had explained the spell to James, that in order for you to find what he had lost, you would need some sort of connection with it. If it were an object, you would need a small part of the item or to perform the spell at the last place it was seen in order to retrieve it, but, as Cordelia had explained to you, as it was a person that had gone missing, you would need some of their DNA, some hair, blood, even a finger nail clipping, just anything that you could use to tether yourself to the missing person.      “Oh, yes of course. Miss Evers!” He called, looking at the door behind where you sat. You pivoted as the door opened, beholding the maid that bustled in, a small child clinging onto her hand. Your eyes narrowed.      “Bring him over here. Yes that’s it.” He welcomed the oddly-dressed child into his arms. The boy couldn’t have been older than six, his thick head of platinum blonde hair glinting in the candle light. James ushered the maid away before looking to you expectantly.     “What am I to do with him?” You ventured, the boy’s presence making you feel uncomfortable. No child should be involved in witchcraft, especially in such a spell that you were to perform.      But then again, looking at the boy, you couldn’t tell if he was entirely human. A deeply unsettling aura rippled off of the child, whose head was turned shyly to rest in James’ chest.      “This is the closest thing I could salvage from her. They are connected in a way that I am not required to explain,” he offered a tight smile. “So please,” he jerked his head at the blade in your hand, “continue.”      You frowned, but did as you were told, dragging the knife across your palm, hard enough to draw blood, a practice that you were so used to doing, the sting of the blade cutting into you barely registered. Clenching your hand into a tight fist, you held your hand out before you above where the Hotel Cortez was located on the map and allowed three drops of your blood to splash onto the paper. Your stomach twisted at what you had to next, meeting James’ eyes and holding out your hand. “I need to do the same with him.” You muttered.      James, to your surprise, took the boys hand and held it out to you happily, forcing his palm open and holding it steady as you raised the blade and drew a deep line across his little hand. Even more surprisingly, the boy didn’t so much as whine as you put his hand into a tiny fist and held it above the map, allowing for a few drops of his blood to fall on top of your own.      “Thank you.” You said to the boy gently, releasing his hand. James lifted him off his lap, patting his head fondly and called for Miss Evers again who returned and took the boy out of the room.      “Go ahead, witchling.” He said, a curious glint in his eye.      “Alright.” You breathed, surveying the map before you before letting your eyes fall shut. “This shouldn’t take too long. Remind me of her name?”      “Her name is Elizabeth. She took off from the hotel eight days ago. I need her back here.”      Nodding, you let this information and the quietness of the room settle over you, holding your hands outstretched over the map. Scrying was a pain in the ass, but it was what you were best at. You reminded yourself of this as you began the incantation, readying yourself for the feeling of coming out of your being, of losing control of yourself.      With each word you spoke, you began to feel the sensation of being pulled out of your body until your conscious being was hovering above the table, watching yourself utter the incantation with your hands held above the map, James’ eyes glued to your face in wonder. Below your hands, the little puddle of blood began to inch itself across the paper of the map and you concentrated as your vision began to dim, chanting louder as the candles flared.      God this hotel.      It was an effort to focus yourself as the memories of suffering clouded your thoughts and an ache began to spread from one temple to the other. Glancing at yourself, you cringed as you face began to pinch, a small drop of blood forming and dripping from your nose. Your chanting became frenzied, hands beginning to shake where you held them above the table.     The blood continued to trail across the map and you grimaced at the worsening pounding in your head, watching as the muscles in your jaw clenched.      “Y/n?” You started, having forgot that James was present and began to panic as he reached out a hand tentatively. If you touched you, you would be pulled back into yourself and the spell would be broken.      “No.” The word formed soundlessly on your lips, blood dripping from your other nostril. The blood on the map began to slow its journey, beginning to pool itself back together. Just a few more moments and- “Y/n.”       James reached over and brought his hand onto your shoulder, and you were forced back into yourself, an irritated protest forming on your lips.      But as his hand settled on your shoulder, a flurry of images emptied itself into your head with such force that you jerked.      The images were of James, his face the same as it was now but in various outfits. James stood before a half-built building, an oddly shaped hat perched on his head, James laughing as he popped open a bottle of champagne before a crowd of cheering people. And there he was again, stood in a dimly lit room with red carpets and walls, a mutilated body sprawled on a table before him. In this picture he sighed, blood splattering his face and a series of sharp, wicked blades having been discarded at his feet. You were forced to endure a series of similar images, James’ grip on your arm tightly as you tried to expel the pictures in your head, but to no avail.     And then you saw yourself from James’ vantage point as he stepped into the bar you had been in hardly thirty minutes ago, Liz polishing her glasses before where you sat, your bag abandoned at your feet. This image was quickly replaced by another, of you and James sat at this very table, but you were both dressed in finery, you at one end and him at the other, large plates of food set before you as you sipped on your wine, James laughing at a joke you had made. Then you saw the two of you running through the hallways of the hotel, giggling like children and shouting as he chased after you as you both barrelled through the hallways before James caught you and pushed you gently against the wall, his lips finding yours as you both laughed breathlessly.      The scene changed quickly, and you were looking through your own eyes as James smiled down at you with teary eyes, your white lace-covered hand clutched in his as you made your vows to love him, a priest stood a few feet away overseeing the ceremony in the reception of the hotel.     And then a glorious feeling working itself into you as the next image appeared in your head: of you sprawled out on the same bed that was behind James now, mewling in pleasure as James’ head worked between your legs. Your fingers were gripped tightly in his hair, a white gown and light grey suit scattered in pieces around the bed he worshipped you upon.     Only when the vision snapped to you cupping your swollen belly lovingly, did you finally find the strength to locate your physical self and slip back into it, pulling away from James. As soon as his hand fell from your arm, the visions disappeared abruptly and you blinked as you stared at him across the table, his eyes creased in concern.       Letting out a shaky breath, you reached up and wiped at your face, your fingers coming away bloody and James stood hurrying over to you. You felt dizzy and could barely see straight as his cold fingers hooked under you chin and you were forced to look right at him as he tutted quietly, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and gently cleaning up the blood that had expelled itself from both nostrils and from the corner of one eye.      Had he seen or felt anything? Had he meant to put those images in your head?     You breathing faltered as he met your stare, the images that you had seen appearing again in the back of your mind, of his head between your spread legs as your back arched off the bed.     You shook this images from your head and forced yourself into action. You reached up and pulled his hand from your face.      “It’s okay.” You said, the roiling dizziness that you had felt giving way to bone-deep exhaustion. “It happens. This is a hard spell.” You reassured him.      He surveyed you carefully from a few feet away, the newfound tiredness of the location spell evident in the droop of your shoulders, the dimness in your eyes.     You gestured to the map. “Where the blood had formed is where Elizabeth is. I don’t know LA that well. If I were you I would go there quickly, she might move somewhere else.” Your voice was hoarse.      “Yes.” He drawled, “thank you, dearest.” You smiled weakly up at him, pulling your candles to you and blowing them out before using your magic to encourage the melted wax to harden and stuffing them back in your bag. With a lazy wave of your hand, the blood on your blade was gone, the well of your magic pleading you to let it rest. You pushed yourself to your feet silently.      “Whoa.” James darted forwards, catching you under the elbows as your knees gave out when you tired to stand.       “Oh dear.” He muttered in your ear as your bag fell from your fingers and your head fell back into his chest. You groaned softly.       Fuck. I pushed too hard. You thought as your eyes grew too heavy, your head drooping forwards as your body forced you to sleep, to recuperate. Yes, you had definitely pushed too far.       A cold hand settled on your forehead and forced your head back, James’ muttered, “it’s alright, darling. Thank you for helping me,” being the last thing you heard before your body’s demand for sleep pulled you under.     

                                                   .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

    Your phone buzzing on the pillow beside your head made you stir. You peeled your tongue from the roof of your mouth, reaching out with a groan and picking up your phone to answer it, bringing it to your ear and mumbling a sleepy “hello”.      Cordelia’s voice filled your ear. “Y/n? Are you okay? The hotel rang me and told me you would be back later than expected.” Slight panic sharpened her tone, making you force yourself to sit up. Before you, you saw the table where you had performed the location spell, the map still spread upon it. You remembered the images that James had projected into you with a shiver. A quick glance at the time displayed on your phone notified you that you had only been sleeping for a few hours but had missed your flight.          “Erm yeh, I’m fine. I’ll order an Uber and just get the next flight home. I’m fine, Cordelia. I promise.” You softened you tone, knowing how much the Supreme feared losing any of her girls.       “Okay, message me when you get in your Uber, okay? I love you.”       You smiled. “Love you too.” Hurrying, feeling uncomfortable that you had been left to sleep in this godforsaken building alone, you used the bathroom quickly and then gathered your things.       You had made it to the door of the room when you noticed that the low table beside the door had a plate laid out on it, a sandwich and a large glass of water set beside a note. It was written in pretty cursive and read: 

“Y/n. I hope you recover quickly. Thank you for your help, little witch. If you find yourself in the area again, please do visit us. JPM.” 

    You smiled softly, placing the note back down before draining the glass of water and grabbing the sandwich, munching on it as you made your way through the labyrinth of corridors, stomach sighing contentedly as you quickly finished the sandwich off, stepping into the elevator that would take you down to the reception.  

                                                  .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

     It had been a few weeks since you had made your visit to the Hotel Cortez. Now, you sat at the kitchen table, slowly making your way through your ‘theory of magic’ homework and laughing at a joke Kyle made from across the table when Cordelia strode in.

     You looked to her as she said your name. “I have another quest for you,” she began, her mouth quirking up at the corners. “You’re requested at the Hotel Cortez.” You stiffened almost imperceptibly, stomach flipping in either dread or excitement, you couldn’t tell. 

    “James March requests your company for diner.” She smirked and Kyle let out a laugh as your cheeks reddened. You reached into your pencil case and chucked a pen at him. 

    “When?” You asked Cordelia who was barely suppressing her laughter.

    “Wednesday. And I have already booked you a flight.” Your mouth fell open as she turned on her heel and began to leave. “I suggest you start looking for something spectacular to wear.” 

    You fell back into your chair as she left, defeated. Kyle was giggling.

    Today was Monday. You had two days to find something to wear. You stood suddenly, a combination of terror and excitement knotting in your chest and stalked over to friend. Grabbing him by the shoulder you pulled him up.

    “I have two days to find something to wear.” His expression quickly turned from amusement to distaste as he noted the determined gleam in your eyes. “And you’re going to help me.” It was your turn to laugh at his groan as you dragged him from the kitchen and into your room, forcing him to rate each outfit that you pulled from your wardrobe.

[ladyeliot]

It will always be you

Prequel: Stay with me

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger Female Reader

Summary: The snap has happened, the return of Wakanda has not been as you all expected, but now you have to face reality, and you just can't stop thinking about him, about Tony.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff.

Word count: 4101

A/N: Post Infinity War. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Reader Powers: Psionic. You use psionic force to track any sentient being. You also create psychic shields to protect yourself. You can project psychic force bolts which have no physical effects but which can affect a victim's mind, causing them pain.

Life is a continuous struggle of choices that you have to make without stopping to think for a second. It is said that hope is the last thing to be lost, probably because the choice you made almost left you without it. You must also learn that happiness is the last thing to be found, probably because the choice you have made has made you unhappier than you will ever be. Your life has been full of choices, you might have regretted many of them, but you decided at the time to make them, so you never allowed yourself to regret your actions, until that day.

Three weeks after Thanos snapped, hope was completely lost. The new facility has been uncharacteristically silent, no one has been able to say more than two words in a row, and you had barely managed to say one since your return from Wakanda. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, James Rhodes, Bruce Banner and you, those were the surviving Avengers, the ones that life had given you a second chance, but it didn't really feel like one.

You were in your old room, old because two years ago one of your decisions had taken you away from that place, yes, you were against the Sokovia Accords, that had led you to take the side of the Captain and to fight against the side of Iron Man, who had been the person who had saved you from the madness that your powers had generated in your mind. But even if you had turned against him, you knew you owed him everything. Evidently this was something he didn't understand, which led to a wide rift that had never been bridged on either side, and which led to a breakdown in your relationship of closeness.

Every corner of that room had been kept exactly as you had left it that night when you fled with Wanda. Your drawings together with the charcoals scattered on the desk, the book 'In Search of Lost Time' by Marcel Proust on the bedside table and that bracelet that Tony had given you for your 26th birthday that you had left next to the open jewellery box on the bed. It was really painful to see all of this, knowing that those facilities would probably never be what they once were, that Wanda would not suddenly appear at your door, that you would never sit around the dinner table and that Tony would not occupy the armchair next to your bed to try to cheer you up after a mission that hadn't gone so well. You didn't know whether frustration was taking over the fear and sadness or whether you just didn't know how to control your feelings on that occasion.

The days were long, each of you working in silence trying to make sense of what had happened, looking for a solution that would never come to the problem. You shared the hours, but the solitude that enveloped you was too austere to realise that there was a person by your side. You didn't know Thanos' location, however, even if you did, especially if you did, it had become clear that you could not stand alone against his entire army.

"Would you like some?" asked Natasha offering you a plate with a veggie sandwich on it, which you took with an almost soundless 'thank you'.

Yes, actually that had been your first word in five days, since you said goodnight to Bruce last Sunday, food and sleep were not high on your priorities, especially when you spent the night using your telepathic detection trying to find some sign of life that would make you believe Tony was alive, but it was useless. Your psionic senses allowed you to track any sentient being, you were able to scan large areas, but your ability did not address the entire universe.

That night your spirits seemed to be running low to the ground, three weeks without having achieved anything that would allow you to have any lucidity in your plans was too long as the situation stood. You could hear in the background a soft murmur coming from a conversation between Natasha and Steve, but you weren't really paying attention to it, it was all in your thoughts. But at that instant, an inner burst made them evaporate. A signal came into your brain, a psionic emanation that alerted you to the presence of a spaceship entering the stratosphere, with a fixed direction, yours. You rose from your chair, standing upright, capturing the attention of the people around you. You closed your eyes, heightening all your senses, taking in all the information that was coming to you, at that moment you felt it. You opened your eyes and looked at them.

"He's here," were the only words you could utter before you rushed outside. Your companions soon followed your path, asking questions to explain what was happening, but your inner euphoria prevented you from saying a single word.

That ship appeared above you as you raced across the garden, night was falling relentlessly and you could only glimpse a halo of light that seemed to direct the ship as it landed delicately on the wide grassy esplanade. The five of you paused, taking in the scene, discovering how a side door opened to project a flight of stairs. When you saw his face for the first time your lungs deflated, letting out all the air they had accumulated over a long period of time. Your body went rigid and you didn't react until Steve ran past you and approached the ship to help him down.

He looked terrible, it was evident in every facial feature and in his body movements, you knew what you had been through, but you had no idea what Tony had been through since his disappearance in New York, although you could get a pretty good idea. Before your eyes were Steve and Tony in custody, reunited again, after all that had happened, none of it mattered, at least not to you, and perhaps you had a vain hope that it didn't matter to anyone else either. Even so you didn't know how to act when your eyes connected with his, for a slight moment you wanted to approach him, offer him a hug and tell him that you were relieved to discover that he was there, with you, after all, but you chose to stay where you were, next to Natasha.

It wasn't until you headed inside that the stiffness disappeared from your body. A whispered 'are you okay' from Steve made you react again and pay attention to Natasha's words that were projecting all the information gathered during those days.

"The governments are destroyed," she reported as she projected images showing the missing, like Wilson, Maximoff and Parker, among others, "the working parts are trying to do a census, and it looks like he did it. He did what he said he would do. Thanos wiped out 50% of all living things."

Silence echoed around you, you were sitting in an armchair, somewhat away from the other members, playing with your fingers, trying not to look up, until he spoke.

"Where is he now?" asked Tony. "Where?"

"We don't know," Steve informed him from beside you, sitting at a table. "He opened a portal and went through it. We looked for Thanos for three weeks, with deep space scanners," Steve looked at you, "and satellites, and we found nothing." He looked at Tony. "Tony, you fought him."

"What are you talking about?" asked Tony from his wheelchair. "I didn't fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while the wizard gave away the store. That's what happened, there's no fight..."

You took a breath and sighed, because you could contemplate what was about to happen right now, the nerves were there along with the negativity and failure of some of the superheroes on that planet and others, and you knew it could explode at any moment.

"Tony, I'm going to need you to focus..." Steve repeated again hoping that Tony would offer him some clue as to the whereabouts of Thanos.

"I needed you," interrupted Tony in a raised tone. "as in past tense.  That trumps what you need. It's too late, buddy. Sorry." He used a second of his silence to look at Steve and another second to look at you, who stood beside him. You took in most of the feelings hidden in his gaze, and none of them were positive or forgiving. "You know what I need? I need a shave," he tried to get out of the wheelchair, taking everything on the table in his stride. "I don't believe I ever remember telling you this..." he ripped out the IV that connected the drip to his left arm. "To the living and the dead, What we needed was a suit of armor around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not," he looked back at you and Steve repeatedly. "That's what we needed!”

The discussion continued, avoiding an upset Tony explaining everything he thought about the current and past situation, ignoring the suggestions Rhodes was giving him to calm down and take his seat again.

"[...] Bunch of tired old wheels!" he pointed at Steve. "I got nothin' for you, Cap! I've got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options! Zero, zip, nada. No trust - liar."

Almost ipso facto he turned to you ripped off the reactor prostrate on his chest and handed it to Steve in his hand, leaving those present virtually speechless, if you still had any left.

"Here, take this. You'll find him, if you put that on. You hide-"

After those words you gazed again into his eyes full of resentment at the past, before his body could take it no more and he collapsed in the middle of the room.

In the hours that followed, you were the shadow of a ghost gazing at him from a distance from the door frame of one of the recovery rooms in the new complex. On the one hand fearing his reaction against you when he woke up, while on the other hand wanting to hear it because you knew that sooner or later it would come but you wanted it to come as soon as possible so that you could face it. Those words she had said to Steve were harsh, but they were really nothing to what you expected might happen. It seemed absurd at the time to have entertained the idea that it might have been forgotten.

"Bruce gave him a sedative," Rhodes said, looking up at you, who were leaning against the doorframe. "He'll be unconscious for the rest of the day. Do you want to sit down?"

"No...I'd better..." but Rhodes didn't allow you to finish your words, as he had risen from the armchair next to Tony and offered it to you. "Thank you."

The door to the room ajar to offer you some more privacy. As you turned your gaze towards him you realised the fragility his body conveyed in those moments, he had spent weeks wandering through space not knowing if he was going to get the chance to return home again and yet he had been able to stay alive and find himself there. You closed your eyes and settled back on the couch, you remembered the first time you did that with Tony, he had spent too much time without sleep after the events after the Chitauri invasion, he could barely sleep because of the nightmares and he begged you to stop them every night, so with your eyes closed you concentrated and invaded his mind with caution releasing the tension you found in it and giving him the peace he needed. When you opened your eyes again, her expression seemed to have changed, she seemed to have found some relief inside her, that fact made you smile. But a knock on the door woke you up.

"We need to talk," Steve's words sounded serious.

A new piece of information about Thanos' whereabouts came as a surprise, but for you the surprise came right after.

"Wait, is this some kind of punishment or something?" you said completely dumbfounded, just outside the room where Tony was, with what Steve was proposing. "Why me?"

"Because we need someone to stay with Tony," he said calmly crossing his arms.

"Is it because I'm the smallest of the whole team? Because I could really knock you all out right now with the blink of an eye," you said crossing your arms too.

"It's because Tony needs you," Steve lowered his tone, "and you need him."

There was nothing but truth in those words. You didn't know if Tony really needed you, but what you had assumed was that you'd needed him for a long time, and you'd put a lot of things before that need, creating your close relationship to go to shit, basically.

"I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you on this mission," Steve said frankly. "And he wouldn't forgive me either if I said that happened."

You lowered your face as you nodded, accepting his words and the job you had been given.

"Be very careful," you said before Steve disappeared from in front of you to take a path that you had no idea what could be in store for them.

From that moment on, the hours went by really slowly, you took your position in that armchair again, you needed to have a clear mind, you couldn't continue martyring yourself with all the events that had happened, so you started reading 'In Search of Lost Time', that book that had been forgotten on the bedside table since you left that place. News was nil, you barely got a sign of what might be happening and you knew it would probably be days before you got it. 

Night was falling on the compound again, Tony was barely making any sign of waking up, which also gave you time to consider how the situation would play out, and various possibilities for coping with it. Some of his belongings had been salvaged from the ship, and his helmet, or rather what was left of it, stared at you from the dresser in the room. Without having a reason in mind you approached him, causing a blue light to suddenly flash across his eyes, showing you his figure in the middle of the room.

"Is it on?" a figure of a seated, completely haggard Tony appeared before your eyes. "Hey, Ms. Y/L/N, Y/N," your brow furrowed, but you approached his reflection. "If you find this footage don't put it on social media, it'll be really tearful," his words brought a sad smile to your face. "I don't know if you'll watch these videos. I don't even know if you're still... Oh god, I hope so..." there was a silence from his words, but you could see him bring his hands to his face, something inside you cracked. "I guess it's easier to do this if you know the chances of seeing you again are practically nil," something inside you made your heart shrink. "I probably should have realised this a lot sooner," he fell silent, "yeah, but I was busy trying not to hate you too much, you know, when you decided to abandon me and choose the other side," exhaustion almost prevented him from keeping his eyes open. "Anyway, anyway that made me realise how important you had been to me," he let his gaze wander, "I tried to be there for you ever since I met you and... god, this is getting too depressing," he ran his hand over his face. "I just want you to know that I wish you were here, because you're the only person I'd like to share my last hours with," he nodded slightly, you knew what he was trying to say with those words, which made your eyes water. "Don't feel bad about this, I mean, if you stay prostrate for a couple of weeks... and then move on with immense guilt..." he hid his face in the palm of his hand and closed his eyes, you wiped away a tear that ran down your cheek keeping the bitter smile you had been wearing all along. "I want you to know... when I've fallen asleep, it will be like the nights we spent together. I'm fine. All right," he gestured towards you. "I'll dream of you. Because it will always be you."

Suddenly, as if nothing had happened, his image disappeared in front of your eyes, leaving you with hundreds of feelings invading your body and mind. You looked up and there he was, still there, sleeping pleasantly, barely knowing what had just happened. You hurriedly wiped away the last tear running down your cheek and sat back down, putting your feet up on the couch, unable to take your eyes off him. Perhaps those thoughts were drawn from his most desperate moments, believing that his life was about to come to an end, perhaps he was unwilling to show them to you now that he had resumed the course of his life, so even though it was not possible you tried to send them to a hidden place in your mind.

You had hardly slept in those three weeks, your mind hadn't rested for days and you didn't know why, but finding yourself curled up in that armchair next to Tony was giving you back the tranquillity your body hadn't known for too long. It was impossible to stop your eyelids from closing, on the contrary you were willing them to do so and for sleep to warmly invade your body, no matter how long you could stay asleep. That's how it happened, making the hours pass without you even noticing. 

Like a little gust of wind, something in your body made the light enter through your eyelashes. Slowly you opened your eyes, feeling in various parts of your body a tightness due to the position in which you had fallen asleep in that armchair. You discovered that a woollen blanket covered your limbs, but what kept you alert was the bed next to you was completely empty. Tony wasn't there. You jumped up, looking around, the bedroom door was ajar and Iron Man's helmet was missing.

"Tony?" you asked, raising your voice, stepping out into the hallway. "Tony! Where are you?"

You barely heard an answer, so you were thankful those powers were within you, you stopped in the middle of the corridor and closed your eyes, your receptors picked up a signal coming from downstairs, it was him. You found him leaning on the kitchen counter, his eyes closed as he tried to stand. You ran to him, grabbing his arm to hold him up.

"What do you think you're doing?" you said, leading him to the nearest armchair in the living room.

You discovered that he had shaved, taken a shower and was wearing one of his Tom Ford suits that were so recognisable to you. That meant he had been wandering around the house unsupervised for over an hour without waking you up. You knelt down next to him.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" you asked with a worried look on your face as you contemplated that he was extremely tired. "Bruce gave a set of instructions for you to follow, you can't just walk around..."

"It was your turn?" he cut you off with an angry tone. "Be my babysitter? How did you do it? Did you draw lots?" his countenance was serious, you could still see the puffiness in his eyes and his face fully dehydrated. "Whoever draws the shortest stick gets to look after poor Stark, all right, listen..."

"No! You listen to me," you cut him off, raising your tone above his, standing up and resting your hands on each armrest "Tony, we all lost. We all fought and lost, none of us made it," your face was three feet above his. "So now all we can do is try, in some completely illogical way, to move the situation forward. And if we can't, at least look to the future by doing our best to honour those we have lost."

Silence flooded over you.

"So please don't make the situation more complicated," you continued, lowering your tone, almost begging him. "If I've stayed with you it's because Steve has made me understand some things, because yes, it wasn't really my intention to stay with you from the start, but then I realised that if anyone had to stay with you it was me. I realised that if I had to risk my life again I didn't want to go on the mission, because that would mean never seeing you again.And I've also realised that I've needed you for a long time, that I'm finally by your side and I have no intention of separating from you. Whether you like it or not." Tony cut his gaze with yours by ducking it, but brought his right hand over yours.

That gesture provoked you to bring your other hand to his face, placing a gentle caress on his cheek.

"I know there are a lot of things we need to talk about, but one thing we do have is time," you explained as Tony intertwined his fingers with yours. "So please, don't do anything more stupid and don't disappear," maybe it was the atmosphere generated by the situation, but you risked saying the next words. "Because it will always be you."

Tony closed his eyes a little regretfully, a little embarrassedly, and brought his free hand to his face.

"I knew you saw that," he added calmly removing his hand from his face. "Well, at least I've saved myself from having to repeat it in person."

"I'm not sure I got it right," you said falsely. "You know, there was a lot of interference, and besides, I couldn't really understand what you were saying, so..."

"Sorry, there was only one pass for the film," he said wryly which caused you to smile widely as you rediscovered that the old Tony was still hidden in it. "We won't know when there will be a revival."

"Too bad, I really liked that movie," you sat down on the armrest without letting go of his hand and looking up at him.

"Really?" he asked for the first time modestly, and putting aside all the irony that surrounded the situation.

"Totally," you nodded, trying to express all the many feelings through your eyes.

Silence again kept you company, until Tony somewhat uncomfortably broke it.

"I suppose you know that by now I would have kissed you and created a fully effective plan to make love to you for hours until you begged me to stop in pleasure," he stated lamely, "although I think if you give me a couple of hours..."

"All right, Don Juan," you cut him off with a chuckle, "we'd better leave all that for later, and I'll take you back to bed now."

"I think it's a good start if you take me to bed," he continued with his insinuations.

You got up from the armrest and helped him put his arm around your shoulders, even though he repeatedly told you he could walk unaided. 

"Have we heard from the team?" he asked, slowly climbing the steps of the ladder.

"Soon," you said with a halo of hope. 

You definitely made it back to the room, having made it successfully through the journey. You helped him get rid of the shoes and shirt that his pride had forced him to wear, but which now made no sense when he was going back to bed.

"See, you're finally going to get what you wanted, I'm undressing you," you said jokingly causing a smile to appear on Tony's face as he lay back down. "You rest, I'll be here. I'll always be here."

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[hajimeiwaswife]

SCALES

Word count: 2,1K

Warnings: mermaid sex, tail touch.

Summary: Prince Oikawa Toru wants you as his mermaid Princess.

Contrary to the popular believe, there is light at the bottom of the ocean. The sun's light and warmth does not arrive, but the lightbulb corals engage the dark water in beautiful and colourful rays that give life to the society of the deep.

Among the pink, turquois and yellow water you danced, your beauty surpassed that of the reef you lived in. Ever since you were born the reef had been your home, that little space of the ocean being your haven, your safe place. You wanted to die in the same place you were born, so you weren't planning on ever leaving the reef.

You knew everyone around, from your parents to the seaweed seller, from the librarian to the human-things seller. A little community of mermaids where no one was out of tune with the rest, a place in the ocean to live a peaceful life.

That was until the prince Oikawa fixed his eyes on you. There had been rumours for some time about him having to find a suitor, how he would be the next in the throne. His search had been intense, no one was enough for the strong and handsome merman, for the prince, for the next in the line of succession.

You were unaware of his decision; you didn't even know that he had passed your reef at all. Again, in the life you were living you really didn't care about princes or princesses, those royals were too far from your lifestyle for you to pay attention to them.

So why, why were you now under his custody? Why had he locked you down on his bedroom? What had changed so much for you to be away from your reef and family? No one did a thing to stop his army when they came for you.

"At the behest of Prince Oikawa Toru the First, you are claimed as the new bride and heir to the throne."

After that, the knights took you to the castle in a dolphin drawn carriage. You were aware of the danger these animals pose, even domesticated they were known to rape all species, under water or terrestrial, they didn't care. There many cases of mermaids pregnant by dolphins.

That thought occupied your mind the whole trip, taking you away for a moment from the horrible fate that waited for you on the Prince's chamber. You felt dizzy and nauseous, scare as the nights carried you along the place.

The castle was breath-taking, you had to admit. White walls and Corinthian columns decorated the hall. You could dissipate the statues of ancient kings and queens, the torsos build in white marble and the tails decorated in colourful gems. If it wasn't for the situation you were currently living, you would have admired with more deliberation the marvellous surroundings of the castle.

At the end of the corridor of the third flour, a giant wooden door stood. The brown and golden stood out among the white foundations. You knew, it was the door of the Prince's chambers. You didn't try to scape, there was no use; even if you tried you could get beheaded. But, wouldn't that be a better fate than what awaited in there? Only time would tell.

"Go in." ordered on of the knights, pushing you inside the room, "Prince Toru will be here in a few minutes. Don't you dare move."

They locked the door after leaving you near the king-sized bed and you ran towards the windows to see if there was any way you could swim out of there. What a surprised to see all of them guarded, what were you even thinking?

You waited there for some time, each minute agonizingly painful, thinking that at any moment the Prince could enter and that you would have to face your destiny. Millions of questions passed your brain, the next one more perturbed than the previous one. 'Will he just marry me and leave me be? Or will I be his sex slave? What if he makes me have hundreds of kids? Is that even allowed in monarchy?'

Anxiety was eating you alive, that was until a shiver passed your whole body when you heard the door opening. The enter the most handsome and ethereal being you had even seen; however, he was the most intimidating and scary monster under the sea at the same time.

Brunet hair moved along the dance of the water; porcelain skin shining like the corals of your reef; perfect nose scrunched as he smiled in a oh-so-beautiful smirk; his brown eyes gazed at you the same way a hunter looks at his pray, intense and amused. His broad shoulders paved the way to his muscular arms and veiny hands and to his toned chest and torso. His pectorals were defined, pink nipples greeting you from afar. His abs were those of a God himself, it was noticeable he took care of his body. But his tail, oh, his tail. Turquoise, light blue, white and light green were combined in his scales, bright and beautiful. His tail was one of a kind. Larger than any you had even seen, thicker, too. A golden aura surrounded his entire body.

Not a word could come out of your mouth, too occupied trying not to salivate at the sight of the man in front of you. He chuckled at your pathetic form, he expected that to be your reaction as he had had the same one when he saw you for the first time, even if he didn't want to admit it. Passing by your reef had caused him a hard-on the moment he laid his gaze on you.

"Good evening, sweetheart." he greeted, breaking the silence and welcoming you to the real world, "How was the trip?"

"Uh?" it wasn't what you were expecting, you thought he was going to introduce himself first.

"Oh, I see, too tired to talk." he chuckled again, mischief in his eyes augured no good, "And here I was, hoping to have a long night with you." he sighed, laying on his bed dramatically without tearing his eyes from you.

You stiffed. Yes, he was attractive, but you weren't going to sleep with him after knowing him for a minute and a half. He noticed your reaction and smirked, sitting up, his tail swimming from left to right.

"What a dirty minded we have here! I meant talking, honey."

He was teasing you, you could feel his amusement at 'playing with his food'. He knew that what he said could be taken in another sense. Then, why were you getting excited?

"Would you like anything to drink? I don't like to show off, but we have the best red seaweed wine of the seven seas."

"No, thank you." you said, not trusting drinking alcohol and less in his presence.

"You talk! And you have a very melodic voice, my love." Toru sighed again, smiling cheekily at you.

You shivered, the feeling of being in constant alert and of wanting to give in both in your mind. There was something about him that didn't let you at ease, but that was driving you crazy for his attention.

"Are you sure you don't want anything? After such a long trip you must be thirsty," he offered again, a fake pout on his lips giving him a childish aspect.

"... Okay." you finally accepted, the need for something to drink too strong.

"So, tell me, Y/N," he started, coming closer to you, "are you glad I chose you to be my future wife? You can say the truth, I won't be mad."

"How do you know my name?" saying you were shocked would be an understatement, you hadn't told him anything about you yet.

"Let's say that when I'm passionate about something I can get very... invested in knowing everything about it. In this case it's you, Y/N."

You didn't know when he started, but his left hand was touching your tail. You could feel pleasure growing inside you, too aroused to tell him to stop, hands so smooth against your scales that everything you wanted was for him to touch... Wait, what?

"Prince Toru, what are you...?"

"Toru."

"What?"

"You can call me Toru, darling." you could feel his breath against your neck, his tongue licking it when he was wetting his lips.

"Okay, Toru, could you please stop?"

He moved a little so he could look you in the eyes, his brown ones so dark because of lust that his pupil was impossible to detect. You hissed at the sight, he really was beautiful, but you didn't know him, so why were you thinking about letting him use you?

"For the look in your eyes you don't want me to stop," he whispered, closing the gap between your faces and giving you a small peck, "I'll trust your body language."

Next thing you know, his lips are on yours kissing you fiercely. An unknown force within you pushed you to kiss him back, his taste too sweet for you to decline. His tongue licked your bottom lip, asking for you to give him access, something you needn't to think about. Tongues intertwined, his hands continued to touch your tail, fingers too close to your pussy.

At some point, maybe between his incessant kisses to your neck and his bites to your nipples, he stood with you to the middle of the room, swimming elegantly. When his abs touched your belly, you knew there was no turning back, but why would you want to?

His mouth around your right nipple, teeth biting it until he was satisfied. He locked his gaze with yours, desire clear in his eyes, something else in there. Was he asking for permission? Now? You just nodded.

He entered you with delicacy, his long and thick dick paving the way until he bottomed out. His breathy moans mixed with yours, feeling the veins at the base of his cock too much.

He started thrusting, the mating dance making it look as pleasurable as it was. Wet sounds from your pussy and the water around you accompanied the whines and groans you both were mouthing. His hands still touching your tail were too overwhelming, his delicious thrusts were making you mind foggy.

Up and down, snake like movements flouting in the middle of the room. "Moan my name, c'mon, don't be ―fuck― shy."

"T-toru," you whined, a wonderful feeling rising at your stomach, "I'm close."

"Let me cum inside," he begged, his movements sloppier, sweat mixing with water, bubbled forming around the two of you, "let me breed you."

"Fuck, Toru, yes, breed me please." you moaned, too dizzy because of the pleasure, "I want your child."

At that moment your orgasm exploded, the most delicious feeling you had ever felt wrapped you in the form of Toru's arms. He came not too much later, dying your walls in white, breeding you.

You both stood there, his dick pulsating inside of you, your walls clenching at it, a sense of euphoria in you. He pushed his cock out of you, looking at you with a small, genuine smile on his mouth.

"You want to have my child, uh?" he chuckled, bringing you to the bed so you both could lay.

"I didn't―"

"I know, it was in the heat of the moment."

Silence took over the atmosphere. You didn't know him one bit, but after the mating dance you shared, you were more at ease with him, calmer, maybe he wasn't that bad. However, that didn't mean you were going to marry him without getting to know him better.

His tail wrapped around yours, after your orgasm it was still too sensitive, but you decided to let him do what he wanted. Scales against scales, chest against chest, sharing the cold of the under-sea creatures.

"I was thinking about showing you around tomorrow," he commented, smiling a little at you. He was adorable, and you discovered in that moment that the facade he had shown you at first was nothing but fake.

"That sounds nice. But I won't marry you unless―"

"Don't worry, I wasn't planning on forcing you."

"Excuse me, sir, we had just fucked because you touched my tail out of nowhere."

He felt silent, lips pressed in a line, his tail moving nervously as he giggled a little, like a kid who had just been caught playing mischief.

"I won't force you to do something you don't want to do."

"You're insufferable, Prince Toru."

"Just for you, future Princess Y/N."

[jaeminscoffee]

Cordolium

Cordolium- Heartfelt sorrow, heartache (n.)

Pairing- Lee Jeno x reader

Genre- Fluff for starters, angst for main course.

Word count- 1.78k

Warnings- Y/n’s led on by Jeno. Or she just misinterpreted his actions, also horribly written ✌

Summary- Who’d known one picture was all it would take to break your heart.

Having gotten into your dream university called for leaving your comfort house and moving into a completely foreign environment, where everyone would be strangers unlike your town where everyone knew each other. 

You were already cranky about the fact that you had to shift, added to that came the news that you’d have a roommate since the last room available was allotted to the student who enrolled in just minutes before you. 

It was a bittersweet feeling. Bitter because you have to live with a total stranger having to share common spaces, personality could be who knows how. Sweet because you’d have a familiar face to look around in the University for. 

“Y/n did you see my blue hoodie?” your roommate screamed from his room, to you who was seated on the couch by the living room. “Hmm?” you hum back, knowing full well the hoodie he’s implying to is the one you’d adorned right now. 

“Come on doll, is there any hoodie of mine that you haven’t worn yet?”

Jeno is the perfect roommate. You’d been shocked the first day you punched in the password to your apartment, opening the door only to be greeted with a guy who had nothing but a towel around his torso. Half shocked at the fact that your roommate for the rest of your semester would be a guy. Half shocked that an extremely good looking guy was your roommate. 

Jeno made the unknown neighborhood seem as though you’d been there all your life. He shooed away all your homesickness, never giving you time to even miss your street by bringing up new things to keep the pair of you occupied. 

“Uh? The one that you bought yesterday? I haven’t worn that yet.” you flash him a smile as Jeno passed you a look of boredom. “It was a rhetorical question, Y/n” he shook his head, making his way towards you with nothing but his sweats on. 

Not the first time you’ve seen him half naked, you’d seen him like that almost every other day, Jeno had clearly grown ridiculously close to you. But the sight of his toned abs and chiseled chest never fails to fluster you. “look at the picture you have of me half naked, you’re basically burning holes into my abs, babe” he retorted after plopping down on the seat beside yours and you immediately shift position to lay down on the couch with your head on his lap. 

“Bold of you to assume i still have that image, Jen” you say, handing him the remote to select what you two would be watching that evening as you tug on his free hand, bringing it up to your hair and placing it there, shaking your head slightly as a signal for him to run his fingers through your hair. 

This is how it’d been since you two grew close. You had a very, very touchy friendship. You had no objections to that, absolutely loving the cuddles and names he’d given you.

All fears of being alone had gone with the wind after the news of you being THE Lee Jeno’s roommate spread throughout the campus. The undivided attention you’d receive didn’t faze you though, knowing full well it was all just a way to somehow get Jeno to pay attention to them. 

That didn’t matter though since you’d found a perfect friend circle for yourself. That friend circle being Jeno’s friend circle. They were all extremely bubbly and accepting of your joining in the group. One particularly was extremely close to you. Jaemin. Having shared the same energy level and brain cells, you got close to each other really quick. 

Jeno chuckles at your antics before complying to your silent request, “Whatever. Though, I’d actually say nothing if you do end up being the first one to wear my new hoodie” you look up at him, confused. “you look cute in my clothes” he sends a wink in your way, leaning down to press a small peck on your forehead before diverting his attention to the shows he constantly switched back and forth to. 

“Oh? Then maybe i should change into that right now-” you attempt to get up fast to hide your blushing self, only to be pulled back with a strong grip on the material of your (his) hoodie which resulted in you falling right back onto Jeno’s lap. “Maybe you shouldn’t” he gave you a playful warning look, breaking out into a smile seeing you huff out giggles. 

“But you just said you don’t mind!” you try standing up again, “doesn’t matter” he pulls you back with more force, now locking you in a tight embrace as your head gets flushed into the nape of his neck, arms holding his bare shoulder for support.

Married couple. A title your friends had given you due to the pair of yours dynamic. It’s kind of like an inside joke at this point. Each time they’d point out you having something more than a platonic friendship, Jeno would always be the first one to dismiss it, clearing all misunderstandings whereas you’d make little to no effort to do so. Your love for the lad basically oozed out of you. 

It’s a little hard to not have feelings for a guy with the personality of an angel, behavior intact and looks as a plus one. You are sure he had at least a little something for you seeing his actions, lingering kisses, touches. You are so sure he’s got at least something for you.

Pressing one last kiss to the side of your head, he moves you gently off of him and onto the fluffy couch as you stare at him in confusion, clearly not liking the warmth being taken away from you. “what happened?” you ask him, about to pull him back down, “I promised a friend I’d go over, we’ll cuddle once i return home, is that alright with you doll?” he inquires, leaning down to smoothen down the hair that was sticking out here and there from his previous actions. 

“Why wouldn’t i be alright with that? As long as you give me all the cuddles we’re missing out on right now” you feign anger to which he gave you his signature eye smile. “Of course.” With that he left the room, probably to change into something else. 

You really wanted to spill out your feelings for the lad to him, you weren’t scared of being rejected. Jaemin, Jeno’s known better half, had assured you multiple times of how you’d definitely be the only one to catch Jeno’s attention. 

What you were really scared of was if you’d lose what you had right now. Feelings are stuff that comes and goes in a rapid and you can lose everything you have if your feelings for the other deteriorates somehow. But your friendship was way more important to you than your feelings and you wouldn’t, in a million years, want to lose what you’ve established with Jeno. 

You spend the rest of your evening watching shows, painting your nails, and even reminding yourself to make one of Jeno’s favourite dishes for dinner once he gets home, mentally thanking Jaemin for reminding you to not forget that little confession plan you had plotted. 

You’d make it subtle that you’re in love with your roommate through your actions rather than words, though, he’d be an idiot if he hadn’t already noticed at least a bit of affection for him through your clinginess. 

You make your way to your room after turning the flame down to low upon hearing your phone ring. You wipe your hands on your hoodie before pressing the red button and picking it up, Jaemin’s contact taking up its place on your screen.

“Jaem?” you inquire stupidly as though his caller ID didn’t make it obvious enough that it was, in fact your best friend calling you.

“I would have barged into your house if you’d taken any longer to pick up the call but congratulations for finally gathering some balls to do it Y/n!!” Jaemin screams into the speaker, obvious that he’s excited. “Congrats?” you ask back.

“Yes! Finally! You guys look so cute in that image, I almost threw it at Haechan!” he replied with the same energy. Confusion clouds your mind as you try making sense of his words. 

“Picture? Congratulations? Jaem, what are you talking about?" 

"You know! The picture he just posted of the two of you being all lovey-dovey! I never took Jeno to be a romanticist! Like, the caption??-” you immediately open your laptop to log into your social to see what imagine Jaemin was talking about, “I have a slight doubt that you’re the one who posted it from his-” finally in on instagram, you scroll down to see any new posts of your roommate,

“-phone, but like. I’m so glad that you asked him out, knowing Jeno, he’d never do it unless you double dog dare him-” running impatient hearing Jaemin ramble on about the said image, you finally search up Jeno’s name, feeling your stomach churn with an unknown feeling. 

“Also, did you dye your hair? You look really cute in that image though it isn’t all that clear! I told you from day one you’re a match made in heaven-”

You click on the recent post, the image of Jeno, leaning in, pressing a kiss on the lip of a girl unknown to you fills up your screen, ‘my one and only for eternity’ as the caption. “How was the kiss?-” you pause for a second, refreshing the page to see if it’s really an image of Jeno, kissing a girl, “Jaem.." 

"I mean, if you’re gonna act all shy with me now then don’t tell me, but tell me how did you confess to him?” you can physically feel your heart drop down to your stomach

“Jaemin..” “you finally get to call him your boyfriend, Y/n! No space between the two words! I can’t believe he decided to make your relationship public the day of confession! But seriously-”

“Jaemin listen-" 

"I’m still not over the caption, where did the confession take place?? You should’ve called me man! I would’ve recorded it-”

“Jaemin!” you finally scream, losing it at all the words coming out of his mouth, feeling enraged at yourself for ever thinking you stood a chance. Hearing the line go silent, you feel something wet travel down your cheeks the more you stare at your crush kissing a girl that’s not you. You choke out a silent sob. How are you supposed to face him after today, knowing everything you felt for him was unrequited?

“That girl in the image is not me.”