#and HAD to scribble it down immediately. i had such a clear vision

[haunted-xander]

Wip or whatever but I NEED you all to see my vision. Labrys visiting Unit 024's final resting place

[yenqa]

OH! MY MISTAKE | where you can’t for the life of you, remember to call kozume by his first name.

♫ — currently playing... april

warnings – an ankle injury (briefly went over), lmk if theres more!

pairing – kenma x gn!reader

wordcount – 1094

a/n – hi guys !! hope u enjoyy lmk if u do! also this is mot proofread so sorry if its wordy or theres any typos!

kenma isn’t the kind to make many mistakes.

there are times where he’s bound to make mistakes, like when he’s out of breath and messes up his sets a little, or when he’s been playing a game for too long and too many people are talking and the pixels are moving too fast for his brain.

those are the times where he can make the excuse if that he’s too tired. but even then, he still realizes his mistake.

when you first meet him he can tell you’re the shy type. he’s not stupid after all.

he can see you fidget with anything you can latch you hands on as you're introducing yourself to the team individually.

coach nekomata has that same happy smile that he always displays. he can see you constantly look back at him for reassurance.

when you finally approach him he skips to the most important part. he doesn’t care for the formalities, and he is sure you don't care about the wellbeing of every single person on the team.

“you can just call me by my first name, kenma.”

you were taken aback by his abruptness, you hadn’t even had the opportunity to bow before he introduced himself. his face remained a monotone look, it didn’t seem like he cared for you at all.

“oh—okay! what’s your last name, if you don’t mind me asking?”

he is simply oblivious to you, so he says, “it’s kozume, but i don’t like when people call me it. so kenma is fine with me.”

“it’s nice to meet you, kenma-san. it’s an honor to be the manager this year!” you salute to him, he can sense that every bone of your body is tense, and you’re too nervous for your own good.

“it’s nice meeting you,” he pauses, then adds,”don’t take this position too seriously, you’re new, it’s okay to make mistakes and not know things.”

he figures you’re the type to need reassurance on matters like that, he almost adds that you can come to him for help, but it might’ve come off in a different way. which was the opposite of what he wanted.

a warm smile blesses your face as you nod vigorously, barely getting out a “thank you!” before he walks away.

a small smile adorns his face when he turns around while he’s so blissfully unaware of his fatal mistake.

it’s at the next practice when he first notices it.

he’s out of the locker room first as usual. sliding down the wall, he sits down a foot away from you. you’re focused on something that he isn’t sure what.

you shift in your position, quickly casting a look at him before whipping your head back.

he sees you scribbling hard on the paper, then erasing it even harder. it’s when you let out a sigh when he decides to step in.

“are you okay, y/n? do you need help with anything?”

he usually wouldn’t help anyone else, but you’re next to him already, he tells himself.

“oh! hi kozume-san! no i’m okay—just finishing this sudoku puzzle my friend gave me!”

“i told you to call me kenma, i don’t like formalities like that.”

you can feel your cheeks heating up, as you awkwared cover them with your hand you exclaim, “i’m so sorry kozu-kenma! i’ll call you that from now on!”

“it’s okay y/n. just don’t forget next time, okay?”

you agree immediately, and it works for the next couple of hours. until he makes another mistake.

he’s on the floor before he knows it, he can hear the ball slam on the floor, but he can’t ignore the throbbing pain shooting through his body.

his ankle seems to look fine, but he knows he landed wrong after jumping for the ball. he takes his ankle and massages it, it doesn’t do much but he continues to do it anyways.

he can hear a group of footsteps run to him, but his vision seems to be tunneled.

throughout the many voices he can hear yours, loud and clear. “kozume! are you okay?”

he looks up at you, “kenma.”

the team all looks at him in confusion, a few mutters of people calling him delirious.

but you, you immediately get it, your cheeks turn a slight pink shade as you offer him a helping hand.

“sorry kenma! i’ll take you to the nurse now.” he gladly takes your hand. wanting to feel the softness of it forever, but you let go once he’s up.

everyone watches as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and limps to the door, once you’re at it you look back and yell. “me and kozume-san will be back soon! so keep practicing everyone!”

it’s been four months, but still you can’t seem to get over your habit.

many things have changed over the past few months, one being that you and kenma have been dating for two of those months.

though that habit seemed to stick with you even as time went on.

“kozume!” you exclaim, wrapping your arms around him.

a small chuckle escapes his lips, he wraps his arms around you. “you’re still forgetting to call me kenma, y/n.”

“old habits die hard,” you giggle, “oh! also—you’re late for practice! tetsurou was spamming your phone with calls, did you forget?”

over time, you’ve grown much more comfortable with him, as he had with you. even though at the time his ankle seemed to be the worse thing that ever happened to him, it also happened to be the catalyst of your relationship.

he’s grateful for landing wrong fore without that small flap of a butterflies wing, he wouldn’t have memorized the shape of your lips, or the sound of your laugh, or the small moles adorning your face.

“wait—tetsurou?”

you let out a breathy laugh, “yeah he told me to call him by his first name! you don’t mind, do you?”

“you remembered to say his first name but not mine?”

“kodzu-ken i mean. i think kozume is cute! it rolls off the tongue better. i’m sorry!” you raise your hands in defeat, but he’s already walking ahead of you to practice.

you chase after him, “kodzu—kenma wait!”

planting a kiss on his cheek, you take his hand, skipping happily to practice dragging him behind.

“kozume skip with me!”

“i’m not doing that.”

kenma hates the formality of when someone calls him kozume instead of kenma, but with the way his name sounds when you say it, he can’t find it in himself to mind.

yenqa © do not copy, steal or translate.

[sanguineterrain]

✦steve with glasses and his messy hair looking so pretty as he tries to read and maybe study, pushing his glasses over the bridge of his nose, lips pursing when he tries to concentrate and his tongue poking out when he writes and scribbles down some notes <3

*heavy breathing* m.... m what have you done...

insecure!steve, slight make out, absolutely feral reader (it's me. I'm the reader.)

****

Steve is hunched over his kitchen table when you come in. He hasn't heard you yet, or he would've perked up and sought you out for kisses.

You set the tin of homemade cookies on the counter. You know Steve probably hasn't thought to eat much; ever since he threw himself into college applications, he's been somewhat of a hermit. He won't even let you help with his essays, which is very strange, but you don't question it. It's Steve's process, and whatever he needs from you, you're happy to provide.

But also: you haven't seen each other in two days, and you might go insane if you don't curl up with him on the couch soon.

You move quietly, not wanting to disturb his concentration. You place a few cookies on a plate and pour some milk from the fridge. You'd made snickerdoodles: Steve's favorite.

You pad over to the kitchen table. Steve's back faces you, shoulders curved inwards.

"Baby," you say softly, setting down the snack next to him. "You'll hurt your neck sitting like that."

You slip your hands over his shoulders and dip down to kiss his face and—oh.

You blink. Steve has... glasses?

"Hey," you start. "Where did—"

They're gone in a flash. Steve tears them off and shoves them into his pocket. His cheeks are dusted pink. You frown.

"Why'd you take 'em off, sweetie?"

Steve shakes his head.

"Didn't want you to know."

"Didn't want me to know... you wear glasses? Why not?"

Steve pushes hair behind his ear and fiddles with his pencil.

"'S stupid," he says.

"No," you reply immediately. "It's not stupid if it's making you feel bad. Tell me, baby, please?"

You sit in the adjacent chair and lean in to hold Steve's hand. You squeeze encouragingly. Steve swallows.

"People made fun 'f me," he admits quietly. "My–my dad said only weak men wear glasses."

"What? What the fuck does he know? God, what a—"

You catch yourself. Right. This is about Steve, not his prick father.

"Sorry, honey," you say. "Go on."

Steve shrugs. He's wound tightly, poised like he's ready to bolt any second.

"I've needed glasses since sixth grade. I just didn't wear them 'cause Tommy teased me. And some girls said I looked better without 'em. So I just never wore 'em. But now—" Steve swallows. "I—I guess the stuff with the Upside-Down made my vision worse 'cause the letters are too blurry for me to see without glasses."

Steve stops then. He looks at your neck, not your eyes. You realize he's waiting for you to pass judgment.

"Baby," you say. "Can you show me your glasses?"

Steve looks a little green at the request. You kiss his cheek, petting his face.

"I bet you look really cute," you add. "Bet I'll wanna kiss you till your glasses fog up."

Steve snorts at that.

"Smooth," he says. "Which one of us was the king in high school?"

You grin.

"What're you talking about, Stevie? Obviously, I ruled the school and you got all shy when I charmed your pants off."

Steve really does go shy at that. You prod his arm.

"Please, baby? I promise it's okay. Promise I won't make fun of you or laugh at you. You know I'd never do that."

Steve heaves a sigh. Then he reaches into his pocket and puts on the glasses.

The lenses are a little thick, and make Steve's big eyes even bigger. They're clear, thin frames that sit delicately on Steve's nose.

You have a visceral reaction because holy shit. Whoever said Steve looked ugly in glasses had stew for brains.

"Oh," you breathe.

"What?" Steve panics, reaching for the glasses. "What? They're bad, right? I knew I shouldn't have trusted that guy at the doctor's. He said everybody's wearing these, but—"

You stop him by his wrists. Steve looks at you, eyes wide with confusion.

"You look so good," you say.

Steve's ears go red. He ducks his head.

"You don't—you don't have to say that stuff, Y/N. I know they're dorky and—"

"No, Steve. I—fuck. You're so fucking cute."

You stand and situate yourself on his lap, straddling one thigh. You cup his face, feeling the soft skin.

"Such a pretty boy," you coo. "So, so pretty."

You take him for a proper kiss before he can argue. He follows along clumsily like maybe you really did rule the school instead of him, soft and pliant underneath.

You feel rabid. Of course, you hadn't expected Steve to look ugly in the glasses. Steve is handsome in everything. But...

You pull away. Steve's lips are swollen. His glasses are fogged up. You grin.

"Oh, baby. You've been holding out on me."

You tuck your hands behind his neck and twirl the shorter hairs there. Steve holds your hips, half-lidded.

"They really look good?" he asks, voice a little stronger.

"Yeah, sweetie. They really do. My handsome boy."

Steve swallows hard. You give him a chaste kiss on his nose and then reach behind to bring a cookie to his lips. He pouts.

"Eat," you order.

"But..." Steve openly stares at your lips.

"Eat," you say, leaning in. "And I'll fog up your glasses all you want. 'Kay?"

Steve takes the cookie.

[madamefluffnstuff]

Can I request a one shot of Fennorian working hard in his study but Vestige comes in and convinces him to relax 🥺

@rvnwtch and I both had the same idea, and *I* originally got the idea from a post by @i-simp-for-fennorian :3 (which I can no longer find the original post on Tumblr but I can find it on Google for some reason! :,D)

Also thought it would be very appropriate for their Ravenwatch Posting Event.~

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Fennorian?" A soft voice called down the hallway. No answer came. The Vestige walked down the corridor until she reached a familiar door. Inside, the faint sound of bubbling and glass clinking could be heard. A book page turning, followed by a hasty quill scribbling, and the unsettling noise of glass sliding on metal, most likely from the aforementioned vampire moving a test tube from its rack.

"Fenn?" She asked again as she slowly opened the door and poked her head in.

Fennorian had his back to the entrance, arm raised as he held a tiny glass tube up by a hanging lamp. The candlelight revealed a thick, viscous looking fluid with a bright red hue.

Not blood, but a prototype for the Harrowstorm elixir.

"Ah, my friend. Good to see you," he responded, clearly distracted and not completely aware. He placed the test tube back in its slot and plucked some snowberries from a nearby bowl, extracting a few seeds in a practiced motion. The seeds disappeared into the elixir.

"...How long have you been down here?" The Vestige asked as she walked in, very worried and surprised at what she was seeing;

His normally neat and organized workspace was cluttered. Various jars were opened on the shelves, in various stages of being emptied. Lids were strewn about. Papers with notes and sketches and diagrams were scattered about the desks. If one tilted their head and squinted, they would notice slight stains of various colors on his fingers and gloves.

"A few days." He leaned over his most recent notebook and scribbled something down. "I'm on the verge of a breakthrough."

"I've... never seen you this... well. Focused. When did you last feed?" She quickly stepped out of his way as he bustled to another shelf of reagents.

"I have my flask. And an extra, just in case. I'm rationing."

In Fennorian's defense, he did look like he had recently consumed. That did not excuse the fact he clearly hadn't left the laboratory in some time. The Vestige knew the vampire alchemist had a tendency to get tunnel vision when he was focused on his work, but this was bad even for him. What in the world had gotten into him?

"You've obviously been busy."

Fenn nodded, straightening up and turning to the alchemy table. He wordlessly picked up a beaker with a clear liquid inside and poured it into one of the tubes with the red fluid. Almost immediately there was a small plume of colored smoke and a pungent, musky smell, like the local badgers when they marked their territory on the trees. Fenn made a noise.

"No. No, that didn't work," he reached for the quill and ink pot.

"Okay, no." The Vestige interrupted him. "This has gone on too long. You need to take a break."

The alchemist shook his head vigorously. "I am sorry, my friend. I appreciate your concern, but I assure you I'm quite alright."

For a split second he almost sounded convincing.

"Fenn, please," the worry evident in her voice. "You're going to wear yourself out. You need to come up for air eventually."

Fennorian returned to his previous location, where his back was turned to her. "I know you're worried, Vestige. But like I said-" he picked up a cylindrical beaker, "-this elixir has to be perfect or-"

"Fennorian Ravenwatch."

He froze. The room filled with a stunned silence. He had never heard her use that tone of voice with him before. Nor had she used his full name before. At least when addressing him. He blinked.

The quiet was broken by the Vestige sighing and walking over to him. "Look... I know this is important to you. Believe me, it's important to me as well," her voice gentle and patient. "But you need to take care of yourself."

He felt her hand on his shoulder. He had to fight the urge to bring his own hand up and hold hers. Instead he gripped the edge of the desk and the beaker still in his other hand.

The Vestige leaned over to look at him. His hair was hiding his face, some plastered to his forehead with tense sweat. Fennorian was very relieved at that moment she couldn't see his eyes. He didn't want her to see him like this. See that she was right. And that it took her raising her voice for him to realize it.

She gently took the glass from his hand and set it on the table, replacing it with her hand. In the same soft voice, she said "I can't make you leave, of course. But, whenever you're ready to take a break and rest, I'll be upstairs." She squeezed his hand, then turned around to leave him to his work.

"...Come here."

The Vestige jumped a little as she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist and gently lift her up. She turned her head and locked eyes with Fennorian.

"Fenn, what-"

"Just. Stay here for a bit. I'm almost finished with this page. After that, I'll take a break."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Promise?"

He walked back over, her still in his arms, and set her down on the desk, just to the side of his papers. "I promise."

And true to his word, he finished his writing much quicker than she thought he would. In between quill strokes, she would lean over and place soft kisses on his temple. With each peck he visibly relaxed more and more. Before they knew it, he was closing his book and tying the cord around it. The Vestige hopped off the desk and lead him out of the laboratory, the two hand in hand.

~*~

Fennorian stared up at the Vestige, a tired smile on his face as he rested his head in her lap. She looked down at him, also smiling while her fingers worked slow circles into the sides of his head. Their bed was a very welcome reprieve after days in the laboratory.

He adjusted himself and folded his hands across his chest, using her legs as arm rests. She asked if he was comfortable, to which he responded with a nod. With a slight smirk, the Vestige brought her pointer finger to her lips, made a little kissing noise, and pressed her finger to his forehead in a "boop". Fenn laughed.

That laugh was the best thing the Vestige had heard all week.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Presence, Presents!

Poe x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Fluff, some implied sexy times to follow

A/N: When I found out Poe's birthday was today, I had to write this. Especially since my birthday is tomorrow!

(Poe divider by @/saradika-graphics)

Poe had been strutting around like the prettiest convor in the base all day, marching with his chin held high like he owned the place. His confidence was infectious, renewing many tired Rebels as they scurried about their duties for the day.

Right now, Poe was headed back too his (and yours) quarters, his trusty astromech, BB-8 by his side, tweeting and beeping at him incessantly.

"I know, I know, buddy! But hey, today's my special day, and I wanna take a nap in the arms of the most gorgeous gal in the galaxy." Poe grinned down at the rotund droid.

BB-8 chattered in response, shaking his little head around as he swiveled in place for a moment before skittering alongside his human friend once again, almost knocking into Poe when he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Wait, what?" Poe asked dumbfoundedly, staring down at BB-8 with wide eyes.

BB-8 made an exasperated tweet and wheeled along, bumping into the door that led to your room. Your little slice of heaven away from the chaos of war and dogfights.

Poe hastily punched in his passkey and was met with silence. You weren't in there. By the looks of it, you'd been gone a while, possibly since just after he left for his own mission.

His shoulders slouched and he dropped his head back with a loud groan. "Aw, man!"

He dragged his feet behind him, his vigor all but depleted at your absence and dropped onto your bunk with a hefty sigh, falling back onto the headrest.

Only for his head to not meet the soft downy cushion of your pillows, but clang off of something hard and stiff shoved beneath the soft lumps. Poe turned onto his side and moved the first pillow, and he was met with a long, medium-sized crate with a note stuck to the top.

It was in your handwriting;

"Hi! They needed an extra escort on this training run for the rookies. Be back soon, happy birthday, baby! :D"

Poe's heart lurched in his chest as he smiled fondly at your hasty scribbles of love, and opened the metal box to see what was inside. And when his eyes met with the shiny barrel of a new blaster, he gasped aduibly.

The thing wasn't cheap. Brand-new, not even cleaned for the first time, yet. No signs of scoring from previous useage... the blaster was surely expensive. You must have saved up for it for months without telling him.

"Aw, baby..." Poe breathed, his eyes softening as his hands brushed the barrel of the blaster fondly, immediately drawing a picture of you in his mind's eye; what you must have looked like hiding this from him, the giddy little wiggle of your hips as you stowed the present for him away for him to find.

He sighed and walked his new blaster over to his locker, placing it gently down as if it were made of porcelain and not the durable metal and steel alloys used to fabricate it, and pulled out a small holo-disk.

Pushing a button, the image that flickered up first was a still of his mother and father. Young, rash and bold; their eyes alight with the fires of freedom, the same that burned within him, now.

"Made it another year, guys." He murmured to the hologram in his palm, each word making his heart seize a little painfully in his chest.

"Wish you could meet my girl. Mom, you woulda loved her. She's sassy, smart, and she hits like a pissed off bantha. Did I tell you that's how we met? Got into a drunken argument at a cantina after a mission. I swear, as soon as she was done knocking my lights loose and my vision came back... Whew! I thought I was looking at one of those Angels the old-timers used to rag on about..." Poe sighed, smiling softly. BB bumped into his leg affectionately, twittering softly in camaraderie.

His nostalgia and bittersweet talkings were snuffed out when there was a knock at the door. He cleared his throat and set the holodisk down in his locker, closing the door before announcing, "C'mon in!"

The door slid open and in walked Finn, beaming from ear to ear, "Hey, man! Heard it was your birthday today! Rey and I just got back with Chewie and we were all talking about celebrating!"

His dark eyes scanned your quarters, his brow furrowing. "Where's your pilot-in-crime?"

"Oh, she's on an escort for a training op right now." Poe said, rolling his wrist casually. "Not surprised, she loves helping the new rookies."

"Ah, okay, got it..." Finn gave him a bit of a shrewd glance. "So... what do you plan on getting her?"

"...Getting her?" Poe echoed dumbly, earning a shriek from BB-8, who rammed into his shins again and again.

"Poe, for the love of--" Finn groaned at him, hissing as if he were in pain. "Please tell me you remembered your girlfriend's birthday is tomorrow?"

The pilot blinked, like a porg in somebody's torchlight, his eyes vacant as the realization dropped on him; almost no thoughts behind his gorgeous amber gaze as he looked at his friend, mouth agape.

He grabbed Finn's shoulders and shook him, "I FORGOT MY GIRLFRIEND'S BIRTHDAY HELP ME WHAT DO I DO?!"

Finn grabbed Poe's hands and eased his iron grip, "Okay, okay, there's a local market, we can run out, grab her a gift and be back... Rey might be able to help us pick it out. Maybe if we're fast, we can get it done before your girl gets back from the training run?"

"YES PLEASE!"

"Okay, c'mon, let's go!" Finn said, leading him out by the hand.

"Man... I can't believe you forgot your girlfriend's birthday was the day after yours..."

He felt horrible. Downright nasty, filthy, horrendous. He felt like the worst boyfriend in the universe--how could he forget your birthday? When it was literally the day after his?

He'd been beating himself up over it since they returned from the market; had he really had his head so far up his own ass that he... ugh.

He shook the water free of his dark curls as he stepped out of the refresher, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist, looking like a depressed, drowned womp-rat.

His fingers hit the button and the door slid open, and he went rigid when his eyes landed on you; dressed in your orange pilot's jumpsuit and your helmet tucked against your side as you held the little brown box with the pink ribbon tied around it--a little touch done by Finn, actually--and you turned to grin widely at him.

"Sorry I was gone! One of the escorts got sick and couldn't fly wingman so I offered myself up for it." You chuckled, setting your bulky helmet down on a rickety old chair by the desk that was in much of the same condition.

You lightly shake the box in your hand when you turn to look at him, "And what's this, eh, flyboy?"

Poe grabbed the towel with one hand to keep it around his waist as you two began to hop around each other; just barely keeping your gift out of his reach.

"Hey!" Poe retorted. "No! That's for tomorrow, you minx!"

You cackled mischievously and finally relented, amused by your boyfriend's almost-naked pleading, handing him your wrapped present and letting him stuff it inside of your locker for safekeeping.

You tilt your head and smile wryly at him. "You forgot didn't you."

He twitched and cringed, "....No? Well, what I mean was--well, you see... it's more like... and, uh..." His shoulders dropped as he looked guiltily at you. "...BB-8 told you, didn't he."

"BB-8 told me." You nod with a grin.

"Ah, hell, that little mech is on my last hair!" Poe stomped, glaring at the locked door to your quarters.

You giggle and kick off your boots with a sigh before unbuckling your vest and dropping it onto the floor; tugging your gloves off with your teeth and then leaning up to give Poe a kiss to his damp cheek.

"It's the thought that counts, hon."

"Yeah, but..." Poe groaned. "You got me that blaster, and... I got you some dumb trinket from the market. And no... I won't tell you what it is, even if I'm not proud of it."

Your eyes softened and you slipped your arms around his midsection, your thumbs tracing the dimples low on his back as you brush your nose to his.

"I don't want some expensive thing, baby." You tell him, "I'm happy if we can just spend time together..."

"I know, but I..."

You silence Poe with a kiss to his slightly chapped lips; "Hush. Whatever it is, I'm sure I'll love it. 'Cause I love you, you kriffin' dork."

Poe wrapped his arms around you and pressed his forehead to yours, finally giving you a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Love you too, you cranky ass nexu."

You tilt your head back with a laugh as Poe waggles his eyebrows, his hand dropping to his towel suggestively.

"Y'know... you can always unwrap another present that I'm always carryin' for you..." He hinted playfully.

"Finn and the others can wait a bit."

[forestshadow-wolf]

Ok guys, I sacrificed a newborn lamb, migraine no longer debilitating :)

Cw: slight (nongraphic) emetophobia warning

Anyway totally don't think about simon riley who gets migraines due to trauma because trauma does weird thing to your body

Totally don't think about him ignoring it until he passed out or throws up infront of someone.

Or how he definitely would deny any ailment because "It's just a little headache." When infact his brain is trying to evacuate out the back of his skull, and there's so much pressure behind his left eye that he thinks I'd hurt less to scoop it out with a blunt spoon.

Don't think about how if he was on a mission where his body would automatically go into a sort of fight or flight mode due to his condition

Don't think about how he narrowly misses a shot because his left eye has this quite unique colorful, grainy starbusting phenomenon going on with it, and his right has this odd fading, and puldisng black boarder around it. And when he does fire thsi shot it rings in his ears and actually his vision goes white for half a second. And he'd shake his head to clear his vision, except he has since learded that that does nothing for him except cause an immediate expulsion of his stomach contents.

Don't think about how the action, and the noise, and the lights, and especially the flashbangs only make him want to kill himself, but of course he wouldn't. If only because he would never leave his team without his help, without overwatch, without backup. He'd never leave Johnny.

Or, missions aside, definitely don't imagine him trying to do paperwork but the words aren't words anymore. They aren't even stationary. They just squiggling blobs of black outlined in red or blue or green or purple, and it makes his head feel like it's imploding.

Don't imagine him trying to write out reports but he can't focus at all. He's gripping his pen so hard that his hand shakes. He's not using his computer because he might actually vomit if he has to. He was for a while, forced himself to, after an hour he almost slammed the lid shut and smashed the thing into his wall until it broke into a missiond tiny pieces. He did not do that. Wouldn't be able to explain that to price.

Don't imagine him trying to do signatures but it just comes out as a scribble of nonsense that can hardly be considered on the line. He has to squint to even see the line, much less to coordinate his hand to find the interception point of the line and his pen.

Don't imagine soap silently noticing. He almost doesn't. Almost snaps back when ghost yells at him for nothing really. Doesn't when he sees the telltale squirt of Ghost's eyes and they way his head is tilted to one side ever so slightly.

Doesn't imagine soap doing double time to cover both his and ghost's arses when they're out in the field and sees ghost stumble just slightly after every shot.

Don't think about soap going to ghost's office to coax him out and back to his room. How he makes sure the room is pitch black, had his curtains changed to blackout curtains for this reason. How he poitedly doesn't grab food or drink, against his better judgment, because he knows that it most definitely would not stay down.

Don't imagine him laying ghost's head in his lap or on his belly and massaging his temples, the back of his head, his scalp, even his eye sockets.

Don't think about how he knows exactly how he knows to do all this stiff not only because it's happened to ghost enough times but because he also gets them. From working with chems and explosives everyday for so long, even before then he used to get them. He knows what to do because it's what he likes when he has a migraine this bad. Knows exactly what to do because ghost does the same for him.

And especially doing think about how for both of them they way the other found out is during an episode, and they had to scramble for a trash can or a toilet so that they don't retch their guts up onto the floor.

Don't imagine how they continue to dry heave even when their syomach is empty, so they stay hunched over. Knowing logically that there is nothing left, but the feeling is still there.

Don't imagine them having to sit on the ground and shove their head between their knees to feel even slightly better. Or lying down and resting their cheek against the cold ground.

Don't imagine how they used to have to deal with it alone before they met eachother...

[lordisitmine]

TTNBD BLOG: PART ONE

I'm doing something different with this story. I always have much to say in the notes of my fanfiction and I'm usually bursting to talk about behind the scenes/commentary stuff, so I've decided to do blog posts to correspond with the updates of this story. I don't know if I'll do one for every single chapter, some of them may be grouped, but I hope people will find them interesting just the same! This post is to cover the first update, that being the prologue and the first chapter. Obviously, spoilers for those if you haven't read them yet.

INTRODUCTION

My writing process for a fic usually starts with the nagging vision of a single scene. It might be an ending, a beginning or a middle, but if it burns in my mind long enough that I have to write it down, that usually means that it will continue to stick around until I've done something about it.

Such was the case with To the End of Everything. In the late summer of 2014 (August I believe), I was on the bus, going to work, day dreaming (I can't read or watch videos in a moving vehicle, I'm very prone to motion sickness). I had recently been re-reading the first few arcs of the Kuroshitsuji manga and had finally gotten around to season two of the anime. Seeing Ciel as a demon gave me about six hundred thousand emotions, and so it was on my mind at the time.

Suddenly, a scene started to play out in my brain, and it was genuinely like watching a movie. I could see it all clear as day. It was Sebastian and Ciel, both demons, in twenty-first century London, standing at the grave of Ciel himself, on Ciel's one-hundredth-and-something birthday. Sebastian was holding a giant bouquet of roses and Ciel was rolling his eyes and pretending not to be totally charmed by the gesture.

This, of course, is the epilogue of TTEOE. That one scene dug its claws into me so completely that I spent the next four years writing an entire novel to explain how it was that the two of them ended up in that situation in the first place.

Fast-forward to the fall of 2018. It's almost Halloween, and I'm finally, finally, putting the finishing touches on the final chapter of TTEOE. Ciel and Sebastian are standing in the ruins of Phantomhive manor, which has been destroyed (again). The man who killed Ciel's parents has been defeated. The great evil has been vanquished. The contract between Ciel and Sebastian has come to fruition, but instead of Sebastian consuming Ciel's soul, he has transformed it. Ciel has been transformed into a demon, and he and Sebastian are even more irrevocably bonded than they already were (more on that later).

There were, however, still a few loose ends. No ending is ever truly clean, not in real life. And sure, this was fiction, but I like to leave room for my readers to imagine what might happen next for themselves, and also give myself a little bit of breathing room as an author, in case I ever do decide to write a sequel. But when I wrote the lines about Sir Arthur's followers still being out there, I didn't have any concrete plans to do anything about it.

Until about ten months later.

August, 2019. What is it with me and August? Well, whatever it was, it got me again. The same cemetery, the same grave. Only this time, it wasn't the twenty-first century. Ciel's death was still fairly recent in the grand scheme of things. And instead of Ciel standing in front of his own tombstone on his own birthday, it was Lizzy, bundled up in the cold, carrying out her grieving ritual, even still, visiting Ciel in order to wish him a happy birthday and to tell him she hoped he was in a better place.

And then an immediate hard cut to Ciel and Sebastian in Paris having wild sex. Here, let me quote my own outline document, which is the first thing I write for any fic, the place where I messily scribble down everything I want to happen in order to then break it down into scenes and fully write it later. I wrote this back in 2019.

"Lizzy visits Ciel’s grave. She tells him about her latest life update, how med school is going, how her friend Sybil has invited her to go to Paris for the holiday, and how excited she is that her parents said yes, on the condition that she take the servants with her to keep her safe. They've become super extra protective ever since the business of Ciel’s death and all that. Lizzy seems to be doing better, as the last time she visited Ciel’s grave was months ago, and we are led to believe she used to come here all the time. She ends the visit by telling Ciel that she might not be back for some time, and that she truly hopes he’s in a better place.

Cut to Ciel, who is indeed in a much better place- namely Paris, in some ridiculously lavish bed in a ridiculously lavish apartment, getting his ass eaten and his back blown out. It’s his birthday after all, and Sebastian won’t let him forget it, even if Ciel thinks birthdays are a foolish thing for demons to celebrate. It’s also their anniversary though, of the day they made the Bond, and Ciel doesn’t mind celebrating that one so much."

So, yes. I've been sitting on this sequel for some time.

The problem this time, unlike with TTEOE, was that I had no idea what to do with these two scenes. They were obviously the beginning of something, but the beginning of what, I had no idea. With TTEOE, I had elements from canon to draw upon, and an obvious goal- tell the story of how Ciel got his revenge and became a demon.

But here, any conclusion I might have was more vague. The cult was still out there, so maybe something happens that brings Ciel and Sebastian back to London? But to what end? Ciel is supposed to be dead, so it's not like he can just re-enter his old life.

I knew for sure I wanted the story to focus on Lizzy as well, to give her a narrative arc of her own, and maybe a romance (a sapphic one, obviously, because that's how we do things in my house). Would she know Ciel was still alive? Would she be a victim? And who would be the villain? Who had taken over in Sir Arthur's stead, and what was their even worse, even bigger plan that the gang would have to foil?

Obviously, I now have answers to all of these questions. But of course, those answers are for me to know, and for you to find out.

So, over the course of the last few years, I've been coming back to this story, adding random pieces in by bursts of inspiration, building a Frankenstein's monster of sorts. Trying to create life. And then a year ago in December of 2022, I decided I was ready to flip the switch, summon the lightning, and actually sit down and write this son of a bitch.

I really did intend to have it done a lot sooner than this. I was, in retrospect, a bit premature in announcing my intentions. However, one of an author's biggest motivations is their audience, so I think it was good that I knew people were waiting for me to do it, even if it did cause me to stress myself out more than a few times. But that;s completely on me, not on you, the reader.

I won't get too much into my personal life, but a number of things happened this that contributed to creative drought and periods of business that prevented me from writing. But I had encouragement from you guys, and I'll always be grateful for that, because it got us all here!

PROLOGUE: COUP DE FOUDRE

TTEOE had an epilogue; TTNBD has a prologue. There are several through-lines in this story (and oh boy has that been a BITCH to plot out, I hope it will be worth it) and a couple of those through-lines start years and years before the rest of the story, so I sectioned them off like this. Also, having a prologue makes me feel a little fancy.

Original characters are a touchy subject in fanficiton for some people. I personally don't read a lot of fic with OCs, which is wild because I'm currently writing one. But whenn they're executed well, some of the best fics I've read have had OCs play a major role. Of course, self-insert OCs are their own sub-genre, but that's not what is happening here. There were holes in the story I wanted to tell that needed characters to fill them, and none of the existing characters could reasonably be stretched to fill those holes. So original characters it was!

There are three original characters in this story; Sybil, who plays the most major role, who you met as a baby in this chapter and who you'll see as an adult in the next one. Then there's her father Simeon, who you've met as well, and another character who I won't mention by name yet because they're going to be introduced in next week's instalment! Both Simeon and this other person play lesser parts in the story, but they're important. I will be doing drawings of them this week, so you'll get to see what I picture them like alongside their descriptions.

EDIT: December 19/2023. I realised a couple more things I forgot to mention when I was chatting with my translaor van_Dort, for whose work I could not be more grateful! Simeon's name comes from the Bible, specifically the Simeon spoken about in the New Testament book of Luke, in Chapter 2, during the story of the birth of Jesus.

In Luke CH.2, Simeon was an old man living in Jerusalem at the time of Jesus's birth; he had been told by the Holy Spirit that he would not die until he saw the Messiah. When Jesus was brought as a baby to the Temple in Jerusalem to be blessed, Simeon got to hold him, thus fulfilling his life's purpose.

The parallels between this Simeon and mine aren't meant to be super direct, but in TTNBD, Simeon's purpose was to father Sybil, and in holding her when she's born, he sees that purpose fulfilled. Also, as Van_Dort said, having a demon with a biblical name is just pretty cheeky and fun :>

Alois and Claude are here too! Season two of the anime is so juicy, with so many good elements to it, I just couldn't resist bringing these characters out to play. I can't wait to get into Alois's absolutely busted head and his wicked toxic dynamic with Claude. I feel like their relationship is a great foil for Ciel and Sebastian's, especially in this fic with the tone I'm going to take. I'm excited for you to see my representation of some of the events of the anime's second season.

CHAPTER ONE: A FAR, FAR BETTER REST

Ten or more years ago, when I was very, very involved in this fandom, much more than I am now (I'm like, here lurking but I wouldn't call myself active) I came across a piece of fanart of an older Ciel and Sebastian, and Ciel had this long hair, and it was so beautiful, and it changed my brain chemistry forever. I've never forgotten it, but I've also never been able to find it again, much to my chagrin. Maybe I'll try to recreate it now that I have the will and the skill to do so.

NEVERMIND! I just took a break from writing this to go search for it one more time and I actually found it! This is a repost on DeviantArt, The notes on the post say it was taken from 4chan but I can't seem to find the original source which sucks but I found it! I've been thinking about this picture for years!

So yes, this specific picture is 99% of the reason why Ciel has long hair in TTNBD. If anyone by some miracle knows the original source, please do share. That and growing out one's hair is symbolic of starting over or time passing or whatever thing you learned in your high school language studies/literature class. Also I think it looks pretty. This is exactly how I imagine him, I've been trying to capture this hairstyle in my drawings, I need to tweak his bangs a little I think.

Also, kudos to those of you who noticed that Ciel's fake name- Gespenst- is German for phantom! I couldn't resist the fun little reference, both to the name Phantomhive and to the fact that Ciel, for all intents and purposes, is a dead man. Also it sounds cool! Bonus!

ANYHOW, onto other stuff. Namely, let's talk about the telepathy thing.

My guilty pleasure is those middling to badly written romance fantasy novels where a nineteen or twenty year old girl gets taken away into a fae realm and falls in love with some hot strapped fae prince or whatever and then finds out that he's her Mate *gasp* and they're *bonded*. If you're reading this and thinking about A Court of Thorns and Roses, then you're thinking of the exact series I was obsessed with when I was writing the end of TTEOE.

In ACOTAR, Feyre and Rhysand have a mating bond that includes a telepathic link. I already knew I wanted the ritual that turned Ciel into a demon to form a tangible bond of some kind between him and Sebastian, and I was reading those books at the time and it just struck me upside the head. Mating bond! Duh! It plays perfectly with the possessiveness that's already inherent in their relationship and the fact that they're supernatural beings with supernatural abilities- and I also happen think it's pretty ~hot~ oop.

To be fair, it's not just ACOTAR's fault: I've been big into Star Trek since I was a teenager and if you know what T'hy'la means and the absolutely legendary fandom mythology that surrounds it, you know where all of my obsession with mates and bonds and stuff really comes from.

I hope I've done a good job of laying out sort of how it works between Ciel and Sebastian, but just to be clear- I don't see it as being like, the ability to read/hear every single one of each other's thoughts. it's more like a link that they can use to sort of "speak" directly to each other, or if one of them is thinking about something very intensely, they can pick up on it.

To me, the vibe of these two has always been "power couple in a crowded room at a party, having a silent conversation with their eyes about how they're better and prettier than everyone else here" and I guess I wanted to make that a reality.

Also it's a great trick to be able to use during sex scenes.

Which brings me to my next point: as you will see, there are a lot more sex scenes in this fic than there were in TTEOE! And they're a lot more... how do I put this... graphic? That's Partially because Ciel and Sebastian's relationship is established, and they're demons, so they're just horny most of the time- and partially because it's been so many years since I wrote TTEOE! I'm just more comfortable with this stuff now and I know my way around it better from a writing perspective.

I wasn't even twenty years old yet in 2014 and now I'm staring down the barrel at thirty, so I've just grown up a lot and developed more as a person, as well as a writer. I feel like I've gotten better at writing in a lot of ways and one of those is definitely my ability to write porn. Not to brag or anything. I know it's a weird skill to be proud of, but in fandom it's a skill that's kind of worth its weight in gold.

Speaking of writing improvement, the honest-to-God biggest challenge for me this time around has been matching the cadence and tone of the writing in TTEOE. Having taken such a long break, and my writing voice having shifted like it has, I have to be deliberate about keeping it all coherent. I hope I'm doing an okay job.

Last but not least, Abberline's back! It's everyone's (my) favourite oblivious detective! I love outsider POVs and so I had a hoot and a half writing him in TTEOE, so of course he's back to investigate crimes and always be about one or two steps behind until the truth turns around and backhands him in the face! What will he do, where will he go, who will he see? Who knows! It's always an adventure!

Like Lizzy, Abberline has had his own response to what happened to Ciel. He's changed in his own ways and his place in life has changed as well. You'll be seeing more of him soon, along with everyone else.

Okay! I think that's all for now! Thanks for reading this... very long post! Feel free to ask questions, I'll be camping out near my inbox, and I'll see you again next week!

-lord_is_it_mine

[dramatisperscnae]

hal has heard it from john that kyle has the habit of expressing affection through exchanging music. during his time as the last lantern the architect had been a close friend and companion, so he is as reliable as a source as possible. of course, that gave the older man an idea and though maybe it may come across as old fashioned, he latches onto it as fast as it comes to him.

he finds a co-worker at his current temporary job willing to burn the cd for him, though they eye him like he is a bizarre relic of lost times, bothering with physical cds, but they don't ask questions. by night, during one of their casual meetings at warriors, hal manages to pull kyle aside just for long enough to slip him his gift, inconspicuous enough.

"heard from john you like music, right? so i figured i could be nosey and give you this, kid." they are an item already and he needs no pretense to gift him, but there's a certain charm to these little stolen moments, so he keeps to them. "listen when you're alone. i'll drop by after i'm done with work," which would probably take a week or less, this whole freelance pilot business, "so you can tell me what you thought of it."

Quite honestly, Kyle adores the little stolen moments Hal manages to find for them. They're absolutely not necessary, sure - he and Hal have been together for a while now, even if neither one of them has really put a label on what they are - but the brief moments of affection or intimacy in an otherwise public setting appeal to the romantic in his soul.

Today is no different, Kyle unable to hide his fond smile as Hal pulls him aside to slip a CD, of all things, into his hand. It's blank, just the words For Kyle scribbled on it in Hal's by-now-familiar handwriting. "Sure…" A mix CD? Has to be; if it was all one band, Hal would've just bought the album someplace and given that to him. "Thanks."

It takes him a while to dig out his old Discman - and oh but doesn't that just bring back some nostalgia - and a while longer to find batteries for the thing, but soon enough he's settled in, sketchbook in hand, with the CD playing. The opening chords of the first song are almost immediately recognizable, Kyle unable to help the fond grin as his pencil starts skating over the paper. Bruce Springsteen might not be his usual jam, but it's impossible not to at least be familiar with the man's songs if you like music.

The second song has his pencil pausing for a moment as he glances down at the Discman. It could be a coincidence, having two songs with such a similar theme back to back, but then again…

Once is chance. Two is coincidence. Three is a pattern.

As soon as the third song's lyrics register Kyle just lets his head fall back against the couch, a probably dopey smile on his face. "Hal, you didn't…"

But he did. Kyle knows he did. If the third song hadn't clinched it the fourth one does, and even has tears starting in his eyes as soon as he hears Elvis's voice croon softly through his headphones. He can remember his mother singing along to this song when he was younger, and he can't resist silently singing along himself now. Take my hand, take my whole life too; for I can't help falling in love with you.

That refrain is all it takes to send a sudden spark of inspiration straight to his brain. Kyle's suddenly sitting back up, CD still playing, some part of his mind still listening as his pencil flows across the paper to sketch out the basic shape of the idea he just had. Is it sappy and stupidly romantic? Sure it is. Is it something that will ever happen? God, who knows; he doesn't know how Hal would feel about the idea, but he knows that he'd feel more than a little uncertain himself.

The only dancing Kyle knows how to do isn't exactly the slow kind, after all.

Kyle only pauses twice in his work once he has a clear vision in mind: once to ensure that his Discman is set to keep the CD playing on loop, and once to move into his studio to more fully bring that vision to life. A base sketch is all well and good, but this needs to be a fully realized piece.

Time and the outside world cease to exist as he works, the music flowing through his earphones keeping him focused and perfectly in the zone. Pencil to set the general outline, then pastel pencils to build on that base. Background, foreground, base colors, shadows, highlights…gradually the scene takes shape on the paper in front of him.

A large hall in an Art Deco style with richly paneled white and deep malachite-green walls lit by silver sconces and an elegant chandelier, with a polished wooden floor. On a stage in the background, a band - piano, upright bass, drummer, guitar, violin, trombone, singer - all in black tie. Hints of a crowd in the midground, including some mutual acquaintances - Guy's red hair stands out in one corner, laughing about something with John, while on the opposite side a pair that look suspiciously like Oliver Queen and Dinah Lance study what might be a buffet table.

But all of that pales against the couple in the foreground. Two men share a dance, the only ones on the dance floor; they seem almost to glow in the light from the chandelier above them. The taller is clearly leading, his warm brown hair brushed neatly back, Cambridge gray suit perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders and athletic form; the shorter has his black hair artfully mussed, a black shirt and slacks beneath an emerald waistcoat accenting his leaner build. It's clear to any onlooker the feelings they hold for each other, their eyes locked in a gaze full of love and adoration; each believes the other hung the very stars in the sky.

By the time Kyle surfaces from his focus it's almost dawn, the windows of his apartment beginning to brighten as light returns to the world. He stretches, surprised to hear his back pop like bubble wrap getting stepped on, and studies his handiwork with a small smile. Maybe he'll get this one framed before Hal gets back…he'll have to think about that. For now, there's a coffee maker in the kitchen that's calling his name.

The Discman, still playing its lone CD without interruption, gets carried right along for the trip.

[niamhmcgall-embroidery]

‘Of Meadows and Blue Skies’ by Melody Money

‘Of Meadows and Blue Skies’ by Melody Money was a solo show at Visions Art Museum in San Diego in 2021 that now lives on the form of an online and video exhibition on the Visions website. Melody Money is a mixed media textiles artist who prides herself on attention to detail and is “motivated to take a medium that is traditionally worked on a smaller scale and expand it to a larger version” and that's evident in this show.

After Melody Money received her Fine Art degree from the University of Colorado, she went on to study prismatic colour theory at Rudolph Schaefer school of design, and this schooling in colour theory shines through throughout the show. This works’ colour pallet is almost exclusively bright warm blues, greens and yellows. Few of the pieces from this collection use colour pallets that could be described as realist. Instead, Money opts for the sort of colours that you could imagine a child choosing for a scribbled marker pen landscape that features a buttercup yellow sun in the corner of the page. It’s clear that these colours, maybe even more so them the actual pieces themselves, were designed to invoke a child-like wonder and love for nature.

Money’s piece ‘field studies’ is more reminiscent of a sample board than a fine art piece but that makes me love it even more. The piece itself is a 4 x 10 grid of textiles field studies, these studies are predominantly beaded embroideries of local wildlife like birds, butterflies and various flora. Money clearly prefers creatures that fly as, apart from one solitary fish, all the animals depicted have wings of some variety. I do not find this preference shocking as the sky is a constant reoccurring character in her work, always lovingly decorated with swirling winds. This piece being a series of studies and not one final piece makes the work seem a lot more personal to Money, I feel like I am witness to a before unseen part of her process which is both greatly endearing and gives greater context to the rest of the work in this collection.

Money uses beading throughout these pieces, most significantly in ‘Rain’ but also rather heavily in ‘Field Studies’. All the beads she has chosen have either an iridescent or metallic quality to them, this means that in the bright lights these pieces shine. In ‘Field Studies’ a trio of blue iridescent swallows pull your focus immediately and in ‘Rain’ the whole lower third of the piece is alight, shimmering with silver bead work. These circles of beads and stitch create pools and puddles of rain that reflect both the faux, stitched light in the piece as well as the real, dynamic light of the exhibition space. Melody Money has said that light is the key to making her art sing, and I couldn't agree more, the beading on both these pieces would have been significantly less impactful and appealing had she opted for dull beads; it would have completely lost the magical shifting colours of the swallows and apparent glow and movement of the pooled water. The effect that light has on these pieces and really all of Money’s work make it such a shame I was only able to view this exhibition in the form of consistently lit photos and a lower quality than I would have liked video. I do think her work is lovely but to have seen her work in reality, especially in shifting sun light, would have been something else entirely.

‘Rain’ is an incredibly dynamic work, though the art itself is ever-stationary. Money’s use of layered vertical strips of differing shades of blue draws your eyes up and down the piece. This paired with the influx of cascading, downward-pointing triangles, which colours fade from navy to white, creates a faux sense of gravity, like the fabric rain is really falling. This effect and the way that Money has achieved it is beautiful and, in my opinion, makes ‘Rain’ the most visually stimulating piece in the collection.

By comparison, ‘Chant’ at first glance is a much simpler work; the colour pallet is more muted, and it lacks the flashy beading and intricate forms of some of the other pieces. Instead, most of the piece is made up of layers of silk shaded fields. From a distance this embroidery looks simply like blended colour, but up close the individual threads are evident and reminiscent of thousands of single plants and grasses. Due to the simplicity of the design of this piece, the intensity of the silk shading shines through. The most impressive element is the scale of the piece and volume of stitches - this amount of embroidery is a feat to undertake. But what I can only assume is dozens and dozens of hours of work has absolutely payed off, as all these dense stitches create this sense of never-ending, empty fields. This feeling is accented by the inclusion by seventeen beads of small iridescent birds in flight, up over the fields into the waiting bright blue sky above. These tiny birds seem little and insignificant in scale, compared to the force of nature that surrounds them, to a degree that I can’t help but feel small alongside them.

‘Of Meadows and Blue Skies' is undeniably a love letter in fabric and thread to the ever-changing natural world that surrounds Money’s home in Colorado. Having grown up in an environment similarly surrounded by nature, Money’s work really speaks to me, it reminds me of the importance of enjoying and protecting the wild spaces around us. Money says in her artist statement “I try to shine a light on everyday moments” and for me she does that both completely and beautifully.

[woolmasterleel]

It's like Kisaki and Tagshei constructed a train together and ran me over with it because I had such a clear vision of what I want Monarchy to look like and I scribbled it down immediately..... I am so excited oh my god

[collecting-stories]

Jellyfish - JJ Maybank

Request: Hey! I was wondering or you could do an outer banks imagine where like in season one the pogues leave kie, Sarah and reader on a boat, and the reader is the one getting stung by a jellyfish. The night goes on and she starts having an allergic reaction the jellyfish sting and her breathing starts to go bad and all dizzy. The girls have to call a mayday. And the sherif/ambulance boat? Comes and gets her or the pogues come back the next morning and she is not well at all. Then hospital. The pogues feel really badx Maybe reader x jj?  

A/N: I just started a rewatch of s1 tonight so I can finally watch s2...also I googled allergic reactions to a jellyfish sting for this. 

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Sarah stood beside you, practically holding you up, as you emptied the contents of your stomach into the marsh for the fifth time in so many minutes. The boys plan to strand Sarah and Kiara on the boat hadn’t been a very clever one and when you had protested JJ had jokingly pushed you over the edge of the HMS, claiming that now you too were stranded with them. 

It wasn’t exactly how you’d planned to spend your night, especially with everyone on each other’s nerves as severely as they were, you’d been looking forward to taking advantage of that and spending the night back at your house with JJ. Instead, you were stranded on Heyward’s boat with Kiara and Sarah bitching at each other. Not to mention the angry red mark blossoming over your stomach from the jellyfish that had stung you as you’d tread water earlier.  

“I thought you said you could fix this stupid piece of shit!” Sarah shouted to Kiara as she rubbed her hand along your back. The juxaposition of her kindness to you and her edgyness with Kiara wasn’t lost on you...even as you felt your head swimming.  

“I gotta lay down,” you urged, hands gripping the edge of the boat as you rested your chin against the cool side, staring into the murky water. It was starting to get darker outside but you weren’t paying attention to that anymore. You felt like you were going to throw up again though this time it felt prompted by the dizzy feeling when you moved your head and not the pain shooting through your abdomen.  

“Okay, let’s lay down...do you want a blanket or something?” Sarah asked, eyes darting around the boat to check for any spare blankets or sweatshirts.

You shook your head, immediately regretting the action as your vision blurred. “No...no, it’s so hot.” When you struggled to get JJ’s shirt over your head without moving too much, Sarah grabbed the hem of the shirt and eased it up.  

“She doesn’t need your help!” Kiara yelled from the hatch, looking out at you with concern. You’d been fine earlier, before you’d boarded the boat with them, before the jellyfish stung you, but now you were doing worse and worse. She was trying to fix the boat but it was obvious that JJ and John B’s genius plan had included purposely sabotaging any chance they had of getting the boat back to shore.  

“Obviously, she does!” Sarah shouted back, “she’s puking over the side of the fucking boat! What was in that shit you rolled anyway?”

Kiara looked incredulous at the suggestion that it was the weed they’d smoked that made you like this, “oh cause I poisoned my best friend with weed? Is that it?”  

“Maybe!” Sarah shrugged, “how should I know.”

“Not helping,” you groaned, rolling to the side and pressing your hand against your stomach. “Kie...my stomach is killing me.”  

“What can I do?” She asked, coming back over to you and Sarah.  

“Call for the coast guard or something?” Sarah suggested, looking out over the marsh as if someone would just happen to be driving through. It was pitch black now, the night falling completely. It wasn’t too late yet, close to 9:30p Sarah supposed, but she wasn’t confident that this could last until morning. Who knew when the boys would come back?

“With what phone Sarah? The tower is down.”  

“Swim to shore or something then!” She snapped.

“Sure, no problem...why didn’t I think of that? I’ll jump in the fucking marsh in the pitch black and swim toward what I think might be land!” Kiara shouted.

“Guys,” you snapped, pulling yourself up to the edge of the ship again. You felt like you were going to throw up again but there wasn’t anything left in your stomach, “shut the fuck up! You aren’t helping...I know they messed with the boat, is the radio working?”

“Let me check.” Kiara stood up from your side and headed back to the controls, checking the radio. “I’ve got a signal!”  

You weren’t sure how long it took between Kiara signaling a mayday and the police boat actually coming out on the marsh because you passed out soon after she’d gotten the signal, slumped against Sarah, the pain in your side and abdomen too much for you to bear. Neither of the girls wanted to leave you overnight in the hospital, worried something would happen the second they left your side, so Kiara scribbled a note and left it taped to the window of the boat.  

Gone to the hospital – was all it said. Not very descriptive but extremely alarming, the boys had arrived at the emergency room frantic.  

“What the fuck kind of scare tactic was that Kie!” JJ had shouted down the hallway when he saw his friend outside one of the rooms. A nurse down the same hall shushed him as he passed her and he turned around to flip her off.  

“Excuse me but you three deserve it after the shit you pulled! Leaving us stranded out there with no communication? You’re lucky the radio worked.” Sarah hissed, shoving JJ when he tried to get passed her into the room.  

The second he’d seen her it had been clear the person who was missing, the one who was undoubtedly in the hospital bed in the room he was standing outside of. You’d gotten hurt, seriously if you were here, if they’d had to mayday a police boat.

“What happened?” Pope asked, quieter than his best friend had been able to muster.

“She’s allergic to jellyfish.” Sarah replied, turning a glare on JJ, “when this moron pushed her in the water she got stung and had a reaction.”  

“Is she okay?”

“She’ll be alright...she’s dehydrated though, so she’s on fluids for the rest of the – JJ!” Kiara snapped when he pushed passed her to get into the room. He moved the curtain aside to see you there, still a little out of it from the exhaustion of the night before but you smiled when you saw him.  

“Hey,” he dropped his voice down to a whisper, a contrast to the sharp scrap of the chair that he dragged to your bedside, “I’m so sorry.”

“Guess I’m allergic to something after all.” You managed to tease, recalling the conversation you’d had a few weeks earlier when JJ had begrudgingly given up the peanut butter and jelly sandwich he was trying to make at John B’s when you reminded him that he was highly allergic to peanuts.

He’d claimed that “maybe it went away”, a possibility you both knew to be impossible while you told him that you weren’t stabbing him with an epi-pen if he had an allergic reaction. “I would stab you, if you were allergic to anything,” JJ had replied, settling for jelly on toast instead. 

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” JJ said now, eyeing the bag of fluids that was connected to you via IV. “I would’ve been fine thinking you didn’t have any allergies.” 

“It’s not your fault JJ, it was an accident...I could’ve been stung a million times before this, we literally live on the coast.” You tried to laugh and coughed; throat still sore. JJ grabbed for the pitcher of water at your bedside and poured you a glass, leaning over to help you swallow.  

“Yeah but you didn't get stung a million times before this...you got stung after I pushed you in!”

“We should let you get some rest,” Pope’s voice sounded over JJ’s shoulder and you both looked over to where he was standing at the curtain. He smiled at you, a silent ‘glad you’re okay’ and ‘sorry’ rolled into one.  

You nodded, more than aware that you were on the verge of falling asleep again. Still, you reached for your boyfriend’s hand, settling for his wrist instead as he was still holding the plastic cup. “Will you stay?” you asked, eyes meeting JJ’s.  

“Yeah, of course.” He promised, sitting back down, “I’m not going anywhere.” He didn’t mention the absolute panic that had racked through him when he saw Kiara’s note or realized you were the one that was injured and he definitely didn’t tell you how severely he blamed himself for you getting stung in the first place, instead he just sat there holding your hand and promising that he would stay there with you until you were discharged. “Everything’s okay, you’re okay.”  

[lovelybarnes]

baby blue- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, tony stark bruce banner, steve rogers, sam wilson warnings: child bucky, language, this is long. why is this so long about: requested by @cherry-season (apparently can't tag you)! bucky turns into a baby/toddler and is clingy a/n: okay so i know virtually nothing about three-year-olds. can you tell? thank you so much for requesting!! I had so much fun writing this <333

[@tylard-blog1]

bucky’s day wasn’t particularly fantastic to begin with.

he was already exhausted when he woke up in the early lights of the morning, his nightmares had kept him up all night-- which you theorized was due to the mission the day before that took place in one of the same hydra bases bucky had been held in. you had frowned when you realized it the day of, turning your attention to bucky and making sure he was okay with it because if he wasn’t, you would make sure someone else took care of it. he had insisted it was fine, even though the next night proved him wrong. you had done what you could, running your fingers through his hair and humming lightly until you fell asleep and he refused to wake you up, resigning himself to a sleepless night.

his morning started with his flesh arm reaching out to feel your side of the bed, hoping to find your soft, warm skin to pull you closer, but instead being met with the unkind sheets that missed the gentleness of your body. he had frowned when he realized you had already left for a meeting with some important hotshot in space with carol (you couldn’t find a better excuse to go get breakfast at your favorite alien restaurant with your favorite aliens) and wouldn’t be back for a solid few hours too long. groaning, and with no real reason to stay in bed for any longer without the excuse of getting to feel you for a few more hours, he dragged himself out of bed.

it didn’t get much better from there, because he was greeted with the sight of sam eating the last bowl of the last box of cereal in the whole damn tower because everyone rejected to go grocery shopping. since bucky refused to eat any of the frozen breakfasts tony loved so much and the stark kid swore were “the best thing ever,” he grunted at sam and walked away without eating, knowing he’d regret it later when his stomach would growl and you would immediately know he skipped breakfast.

for some unknown reason, tony had found out about bucky’s lack of things to do, and with a few winks and manipulative large-worded engineering phrases, convinced him to join him in the lab, which bucky had only really been able to see through the clear glass that separated the lab from the rest of the tower, and from the occasions where he would take food and drinks to you while you locked yourself away inside, building something alongside tony.

being inside, so close to the various machines and objects bucky cant begin to figure out the purpose of, his memories of being in school and at the top of his math and engineering classes bubble to the surface, filling him with the pride he remembers having every day at school. the thought that he could probably understand everything if you or tony explained it to him passes through his mind and urges him to ask tony to do just that, but tony beats him before he can get the chance.

bruce is eyeing them wearily from the other side of the lab, attention mostly on the test tubes in front of him. he gives bucky a smile when he comes in, but seems to ignore him for the most part until tony shows bucky to bruce’s work station, pointing out a blue liquid in a test tube marked TESTING. bruce’s neck snaps to them when tony open his big mouth, “you know, y/n was actually supposed to test something out for me today,” tony begins innocently, a suggestion laced in his words that bucky catches but decides to ignore because of the high he feels from understanding the equations scribbled on the clear glass, “do you know where she is?”

bucky narrows his eyes at him, then looks up at the clock, realizing it’s still a while before you get back, “not even on earth,” he recipes blandly, slyly sneaking a glance at the liquid for any indications of what it could be.

tony sighs dramatically, his shoulders sagging, “oh no, how do i test this now?” bruce shoots tony a warning glance that is blatantly ignored.

bucky’s shrugging before he can help it, the reminder that since you were going to do it, what could be the harm if he did? “i could do it.”

tony claps, “great!” he gestures to a door behind him, “please go in there to sign non-disclosure agreements and wash your hands.”

bucky’s shoved inside before he can fully understand the implications of his stupid offer.

-

the thought of asking the basic questions he should have asked before he agreed to test an unidentified liquid comes to bucky nearly an hour later, when the small vial of weird blue liquid sits in front of him, waiting to be drunk. tony and bruce sit in chairs a couple of feet away, clipboards in both of their hands, and interested expressions settled on their features.

“what does this do again?” he asks, squinting at the vial that he doesn’t notice tony isn’t looking at, furrowing his eyebrows when tony waves him off, “something super smart. no side effects or anything.” bucky’s eyes flit down to the little vial again, before they nearly bug out of his head at the humongous laser that is rolled into the room, “what the hell is that.”

“ah,” tony grins, bouncing from his seat to stand next to his invention proudly, “this is what you’re testing out.” bucky cocks his head at the man, “i thought i was drinking blue water. y/n was going to drink blue water.” tony shakes his head, adjusting some dials on the machine, “yeah, no, it was this. pretty sure i told you.”

“you didn’t-” bruce is looking at tony in concern, about to tell him to slow down so bucky has a chance to think all this through again and maybe ask if there is any chance the laser will melt him, when tony clicks a large red button and a bright white light clouds bucky’s vision just as he sees the clock on the exact same time he saw an hour ago, realizing the clock in the billion-dollar lab is broken, and you’re probably getting home any second.

“tony!” he hears bruce yell before his vision goes dark.

it’s only a second until he can pry open his eyes again, a hand curling into a fist, ready to pound stark into tomorrow when he can suddenly feel the nails of his hand digging into his palm. the surprising feeling of it where his vibranium arm should be forces him to look down at a small arm, fully skin and thin. he looks around, noticing his surroundings suddenly have grown very large around him, and the sound of his voice is higher when he tries to speak again.

“what the f-” he mumbles, cutting himself off when a sudden memory of his ma yelling at him to wash his mouth out if he wants to talk like that floods his mind, and he stares down at himself, eyebrows furrowing when he spots his short stature and the tiny hands and feet that look up at him. realization floods him like a wave, raising his chin at the two, tall, gobsmacked men in front of. “was that supposed to happen?” bruce asks quietly, nodding slowly when tony shakes his head, “no.”

there’s a light knock at the door, your hand pushing it open before anyone can stop you, and your tired face peeks in, a glowing smiling adorning your face and your eyes searching for your boyfriend, “hey, do you guys know where bucky is-” your voice cuts through the stunned silence, pausing when you catch the little boy’s eye. at first, you stare at him, your eyebrows pulling together as you get a good look at the familiar cerulean of his eyes and scan the clothing you’d seen on bucky before. for a second, everything is silent, bucky’s eyes are wide and staring as yours bore into them, searching for something you’re nearly touching until you gasp, “bucky?” you choke, reaching for him when he nods, his legs already trying to reach you as fast as they possibly can but they buckle. bucky realizes just then how old he must be now. “oh, baby,” you murmur, gathering him up in your arms before he can fall to the hard ground of the lab. “what the hell did you idiots do to my boyfriend?” you demand, turning to the two scientists who are going over tony’s notes.

bruce glances at tony, tilting his head at him as if to say him. you roll your eyes, not having any more information than when you asked, “tony?” you growl, walking over to the man, not missing the way little bucky’s hand grabs onto your shirt.

“it didn’t- that wasn’t supposed to happen,” tony defends weakly, a lazy shrug pulling at his shoulders. your eyes flash with velvet red, and, without moving a finger, tony’s pulled in front of you, wrapped in red swirls bucky can’t help but gawk at.

“fix it.” you order. tony nods, pursing his lips, “we’ll do that.” bruce looks a little taken aback, looking up from tony’s scribbles and equations. “i don’t think it’ll last more than a day,” he offers helpfully, “whatever it was tony was trying to do wasn’t either.”

bucky’s eyes start to droop, which he assumes is an effect of the sleepless night he just had on his infant body, something that usually wouldn’t affect him in his one-hundred-and-six-year-old self. he hums when he realizes the irony, leaning his head against the welcoming crook of your neck and catching your attention. you turn to him for a moment, softening a little before turning back to tony and glaring at him, “fix it.”

-

steve catches you when you walk out of the lab, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head when he spots the toddler in your arms, “holy shit, that looks exactly like bucky,” he breathes, scanning the dark mussed-up hair and stepping back when bucky opens his eyes. from next to him, sam looks from bucky to you, “did you two have a kid and not tell anyone, because this-”

“is bucky. that’s bucky.” you interrupt, looking at the toddler, “tony messed up with something and… this happened, i don’t completely… bucky’s a baby.”

steve raises an eyebrow, squinting at his best friend, “ha,” he laughs, “wow, he looks exactly like his pictures. he must be about three years old.” bucky blinks at him. “his ma said he was chatting up a storm at that age, though,” steve informs, looking back up at you. sam grins, “has he said anything? i kinda want to hear if he still sounds old.” bucky frowns at him, his pout deepening when sam bursts into laughter, “his grumpy face is the same!”

you look at your boyfriend, tilting your head and smiling a little when you realize he’s right, “you’re cute,” you coo now that you get a good look at him, “you’re so cute,” you murmur, poking his nose with your finger. bucky can’t help the blush that comes to his cheeks. but he slaps away sam’s fingers, scowling at him, “no.” he argues, “no.”

sam frowns, “no old man voice.”

“i hate you,” bucky says to sam, and you laugh, “i think we should leave for now. i need to figure out what will make three-year-old bucky not as grumpy.” sam looks at bucky’s furrowed brows and the same two little lines between them, his eyes flickering back up to yours, “i think that may just be a bucky thing.”

-

you bring bucky to the living room, sitting him down at the edge of the couch and crouching in front of him, watching him and his little crossed arms, bottom lip jutted out against his own will. bucky isn’t used to the emotional control of a child who’s three and can’t control the frustration that’s coursing through him at the moment. the only thing he knows for sure is that he doesn’t want you to leave him again.

“bucky?” you start, looking deep into the wide blue eyes that let you know it is bucky you’re speaking to. “what do you want to do? are you hungry? d’you want to sleep?” bucky shakes his head stubbornly at you, “i want tony to fix this.”

you sigh, “i know, baby. i do too, but until he finds a cure to this, you’re gonna stay small for a couple more hours.” he pouts at that, and you smooth your thumb over his cheek, “no pouting. we can do whatever you want, buck.”

just as he’s about to reject any idea you have, his stomach rumbles loudly, directing your attention to the arms that guiltily cover up his middle. “bucky... did you eat breakfast today?” you query, a lecturing tone sneaking into your words. “sam ate my cereal,” bucky grumbles, crossing his arms.

“bucky!” you exclaim, standing up to turn to the kitchen, “that’s no excuse. i told you you needed to eat--” you’re barely three steps into the kitchen when you hear the pattering of his feet towards you, grubby hands pawing at your legs.

“don’t leave,” he whines, hugging your ankles and sitting down on the floor, “you left all morning,” he mumbles, smushing his cheeks against your calf.

“i’m sorry,” you apologize, bending over to brush away the hair that falls over his eyes. “c’mere,” you murmur, reaching down to pick him up again and bounce him on your hip while you head to the kitchen. “what do you want to eat?” bucky thinks about it for a minute, before smiling, “i want pizza and ice cream.” you frown at him, “i don’t think three-year-olds can eat that. actually, i don’t think anyone should.”

after consulting google on what three-year-olds should eat, you have bucky’s head resting on your shoulder, refusing to let you put him down even as you made him the mac and cheese he had agreed to, still a little upset over the fact you wouldn’t let him eat all the other things he wanted. the only time he let you not carry him was when he was eating, still insisting you sit right next to him to watch as he smeared cheese all over tony’s expensive table.

“okay,” you whisper breathlessly after watching him eat his third bowl of the meal, “i think that’s good.” you shove the dirty dishes in the sink, washing bucky’s hands and wiping at him cheeks with a warm cloth to get the mess he managed to create off. “did you forget how to eat?” you wonder aloud when you finally fnish cleaning him up, watching his small shoulders shrug.

“what do you want to do now? anything you want,” you propose.

“i want you,” he says, reaching his stubby arms out, “cuddles. ‘m sleepy,” he yawns, making grabby hands at you when you take too long to pick him up. “bucky,” you chuckle, complying with him and bringing him into your chest, where he leans his head on your shoulder. “you sure you don’t want to play or something? you don’t want to…” you trail off, trying to think of what three-year-olds do, “walk or read or something?”

bucky grunts in your ear, his eyelids already closing again, “cuddles,” he repeats, balling your shirt up in his little hands.

“okay,” you sigh, bouncing him gently while you walk to your shared bedroom. you pick up a stuffed animal you brought for bucky from one of your most recent missions, “did you sleep last night? is that why you’re so tired?” bucky hums, cuddling further into your chest when you lay down with him on top of you. you hand him the little dog plush, pressing a kiss to his head when he takes the gift, hugging it with you. “honey, i’m sorry,” you frown, gently threading your fingers through his short hair, humming the same song bucky sings to you when you can’t get to sleep. it doesn’t take long to lull him into the calmness of rest.

you only wake up when the weight on you is suddenly multiplied, completely taking your breath away, “bucky!-” you exclaim, rolling from underneath him to meet his closed eyes. you shake your head with a light laugh, drawing a strand of hair behind his ear before you press your lips to his cheeks, snuggling in with him again, “sweet dreams, darling,” you murmur, placing the stuffed animal he dropped on your dresser.

[orphicidiot09]

Delicate heart ☘︎

dabi x deaf! mute! Reader

! Triggering content !

Pt1

Smoke, dust and his father's harsh words were the only thing in the fifteen year old's mind, his vision all blurry and body burning at a painful rate. He wanted to disappear, away from the whole world's eyes, away from this harsh reality. He wanted to cry that he is not able to live up to his father's expectations. He felt so wea-

As if a cold breeze passed by, the flames surrounding him suddenly dulled down till they vanished. Smoke clearing, his lungs could finally feel the oxygen. The burning sensation vanished and was replaced by something so warm and welcoming. Definitely not his father, then who came in these training grounds far away from the whole city. He was too tired to look for answers or to even defend himself if this was a threat. He passed out.

*Poke**Poke*

His deep slumber was disturbed gently by a small finger poking him out of slumber. Before it could reach him again he grabbed it which startled the owner.

Slowly opening his eyes, his vision clearing a bit he saw a girl probably younger than him crouching down before him. First he thought he was hallucinating. No one comes in these grounds that's why his father chose them in the first place. What was this docile creature doing here?

Finally coming to his senses when he realised that she was actually there he slowly sat up. First thing he noticed was that he was not hurting, no pain then he noticed that his flames were gone almost as if they never existed in the first place.

Looking around his surroundings he could find no one except this girl.

Did she do this?

He let his eyes roam around her form, her knees were badly bruised and scratched, her hands were full of small scratches too, blood seeping out of them, there was blood coming out from the corner of her ears, she was sitting holding a diary sort of thing and a marker in her hand.

Maintaining his distance from her he stood up and the girl followed his action. Finally connecting his turquoise eyes with her, he gathered some words in his mouth and let them out.

"Who are you?", His voice coming out rough.

Her eyes immediately travelled down to his lips which made him narrow his eyes on her. A small smile crawled up her face and she eagerly pulled out her writing pad and scribbled something on it and shoved it towards him which he carefully took from her.

'My name is (Name), I can't hear or talk'

"Huh that's a good introduction (Name)", her name rolled out of his tongue smoothly, he liked the feeling of it.

Taking the marker from her hand he wote down his question.

'What are you doing here?',

He wrote.

This is fun.

A bright smile crawled up her face and he couldn't understand why she got so excited over a simple question. Snatching the pad from him she wrote down that she was running away from someone and ended up here.

This alarmed him. Was there a villain around? Who was she running away from? Is this a trap? Is she with the villains?

Numerous questions raced in his head, a frown crawling up his face. He didn't realise when his hands started igniting with blue flames that was untill he earned a yelp from her.

He noticed how his quirk which was supposed to burn and envelope his surroundings according to his desire was instead crawling up his own body. He couldn't control his powers. His father hated him for that, called him weak.

Emotions got better of him and the flames roared loudly, he couldn't breathe properly, but then something happened, a wind blowed by gently engulfing his flames and swallowing them away, the flames disappeared and this time he saw who has did that.

The girl was standing closely, her one hand clutching the diary and the other pointing towards him, she moved the wind as she pleased and let it swallow away his flames.

A spark ignited in his heart. It was as if someone had gently poured the misty cold water over his hot burning skin, his fear died down.

She rushed towards him in a hurry, her face scrunched up in worry. Bringing her hands towards his burning skin he released the same kind of misty cold breeze that immediately healed his wounds.

This time he didn't feel hot, he felt warm, a type of warmth he had never felt. It felt so good.

He must have been staring at her shiny doe eyes and small form. He saw her smiling proudly looking at his now healed wounds . Such warmth in her eyes.

She waved infront of his eyes to snap him out of his trance.

Scribbling something again she showed him her words and bowed her down as if asking him for something.

'I am lost, will you please show me the way out'

Not saying anything he just started walking away.

Seeing him walk away a frown starting forming on her face, her eyes watered, she thought he was leaving her here in middle of nowhere that was till a hand nudged her side.

"Follow me", he said but seeing her not moving a inch he huffed in annoyance realising that she couldn't hear. Pointing towards him he instructed her to follow her and the way her eyes shined in agreement he understood that she understood him.

She was slowly walking beside him, he was just curiously looking at her from the corner of his eyes.

This girl.

Reaching towards the end, a small frown found it's way up his way up his face when he realised that he'll have to departure from her warmth. He stopped making her bump into him.

Taking the diary from her, he wrote that this is the end from here she'll have to go alone. Accepting this from him, she bowed down startling him.

"It's okay (Name) jeez"

Not finding courage in watching her go he turned around ready to walk away but was stopped by a small tug at his sleeve.

When he turned around he was met by a that diary up his face, pulling back he read the words.

'Please write your name!'

A lazy smirk found its way up his face, with one hand in his pocket and other lowering the diary down. His unforgettable and striking turquoise eyes glowing brightly, finding their way up her mind, permanently writing themselves in her memory. He leaned downed towards her face till he could feel the soft breath leaving her parted mouth.

"Name's Touya, Touya Todoroki doll, but you don't wanna remember it okay? Okay." , He said knowing well that she couldn't hear him.

All she could manage to hear was a small 'ya'.

"Ya?"

With that he left for now, for today. His turquoise eyes found a way in her delicate heart.

<3

[wornoutmouse]

Look I wrote this for my friend but i popped the hell off with this one so if you don’t mind reading a name inbetween a few dialogue points pls read

You ran hurriedly through the halls of the school as the third bell finally rang. You had overslept and had barely made it onto the bus. Skidding to a stop, you slow down when you get to the door, catching your breath before entering. Just as you annoyingly expected, eyes dart towards you as soon as you entered, effectively catching the teacher’s attention.

 “This is the second time you are late young lady, one more time and I will have no choice but to write you up.” You smile awkwardly, “Sorry Miss, it won’t happen again.”  Ms. Bustier clicks her tongue disapprovingly as she watched her student walk to her seat, head hanging low. You sit down in your chair with a soft sigh as Ms. Bustier spoke about today’s lesson.

For the most part, you pay attention to the lesson being taught, that is until your attention is being interrupted by a pencil poking your side. From your peripheral vision, you see fluffy blond hair swaying gently to get your attention. You mutter under your breath, swiping the pencil with your hand, “Quit it Adrien I’m already in trouble.” The boy huffs but the playful aura still hung around making your skin buzz with excitement.

 Shifting in your seat, you squint your eyes at the smartboard, writing down notes every so often. Looking down once again, you notice a small piece of paper folded, You look at Adrien who boredly watched your teacher speak. Opening the paper you roll your eyes at the note inside. 

A - Late again are you Miss Mia? One more time and I might have to wake you up myself

Nibbling the tip of your pencil you write a note back, crumpling the paper before tossing it at Adrien’s head with a smirk.

You- Well maybe I wouldn’t have been so tired if you hadn’t interrupted my study time with your modeling rants

The paper is tossed back at your head, catching in your curly hair, making Adrien snort.

A- Well I can think of other ways to keep you up at night...

You cough loudly at the message, eyes darting at Adrien’s laid-back figure. You scribble down a quick snarky reply with shaking hands. You go to pass the paper but the sound of a throat clearing interrupts you. You turn to your left and are forced to look up, gulping when you notice your teacher’s signature white blazer. She holds her hand out and you reluctantly place the ball of paper in her hand.

“While I will not embarrass you by reading out your hidden messages, I will embarrass you by writing you up for detention.” Sputtering, you point an accusing finger at the smug boy behind you, “He started it first I was just..” You are hushed by a firm hand on your shoulder, “Well if that’s the case, both you and Adrien can join each other at study hall.” Adrien groans behind you and you throw a glare his way, one that he responds with a teasing wink. The sound of the bell ringing grimly reminds you of the dreadful time awaiting you in study hall after school.

 When you get thereAdrien is already there and waves you over to him. You narrow your eyes at him but sit next to him anyway. “Aww don’t look at me like that Mi, it’s not my fault you aren’t stealthy enough to pass a simple note in class.” You roll your eyes, “Well if you weren’t tossing notes like a child, we wouldn’t be here either.” Adrien laughs loudly earning a sharp look from the detention monitor. 

He mutters a silent apology as you busy yourself with a notepad and pencil. The study hall is silent and boring and 11 minutes feel like 11 hours as the clock ticks by. Adrien watches your small scribbles turn into different shapes and sizes. Before long, he notices you drawing a rather familiar face. “Whatcha drawing?” You shrug, watching your pencil make the shape of cat-like ears.

You continue drawing, briefly recognizing Adrien’s body heat as he watches over your shoulder. “You like Chat Noir huh?” Your precise pencil strokes outline the lean frame of one of Paris’s heros. While it is undoubtedly Chart Noir in a heroic setting, the way his eyes slant a little more than his mask allows and the way one of his hands rested on his chest did give way to a more seductive undertone. 

“Yeah, I think he’s pretty hot not gonna lie.” Adrien hums, the feeling of his short breaths blowing against your shoulder makes you shiver. “Really? Well, he can’t be hotter than I can he?” Adrien fluffs his hair pompously as he stretches his body lazily. “I don’t know maybe a little.” Adrien sticks his tongue out at you.

Your monitor stands up and walks towards the door before turning around, “Listen you two, I am going to get lunch, and I better see you two here when I come back or you’ll get worse than detention.” The teacher fixes you both with a long look before leaving. “They are a little stiff in the ass.” You chuckle resting your head on your palm. Adrien slouches in his chair to play on his phone, giving you the perfect opportunity to observe him. Your friend is attractive, that is something you’ve come to terms with a long time ago, hiding your crush away deep in your mind. 

“You like to stare at me when you think?” His tenor voice startles you out of thought and you realize you now have his full attention. Your face is warm and for once you are glad you couldn’t visibly blush. 

“Hey, Adrien? What did you mean by that last message you passed me in class?” You tried to pass the question off as casual but you could feel your heart racing as the room filled with daunting silence. “What do you think I meant?” 

Suddenly Adrien felt too close and the room felt smaller. When you made eye contact with him, his eyes were slanted just like Chat Noirs on your drawing. “You tell me.” You said boldly. Adrien pondered for a while, green eyes observing your features, going from your eyes, down your nose before finally resting on your plump lips. “Well, I think it meant exactly what it said.” Adrien placed a hand on your thigh, squeezing the flesh in his palm. “So tell me why you like Cat Noir?” You stare at nothing, unable to compute the absurd request that came seemingly out of nowhere.

“What?” Adrian’s hand doesn’t stop moving on your thigh, heating your skin through your jeans. “Come on Mi, humor me for a moment.” You hum softly in an attempt at calming your heart rate. “Well, I like how he seems to enjoy what he does,  saving people...” As you speak Adrien takes the time to scoot closer to you paying a sparing glance at the door your teacher left out of a moment ago. “What would you do if you met him?” His hands got closer to your inner thigh fiddling with your belt loops.

The urge to clench your legs together was immediate as the fire within you grew stronger. “I would thank him for his service and-” Adrien shushes you with the sound of your belt clinking a loose. “Let me rephrase, what do you want him to do to you?” Before you had comprehended your predicament, Adrien’s hand had found itself inside your pants.

You were sitting rigidly in your chair, lips parted in a silent exhale. Slender fingers focused themselves on your swelling bud, pressing soft circles on it in an effort to coax it out of its hood. Noting your tensed posture, Adrien tries to distract you. He’ll admit even to himself that this was a bold move on his part and he was surprised you hadn’t pushed him off at this point. “I can stop if you want me to?” You feel his fingers stop their ministrations and you quickly grab his wrist. “No!”

His concerned demeanor is quickly wiped away by a broad smirk as his fingers resumed their task. “Okay then.” He places a kiss on your shoulder through your shirt making you shiver. “You didn’t answer my question.” You nod and try to speak in a stable manner. “I would want him to- oh god!” Adrien’s fingers began to work overtime as they went down to your lips, now wet with your arousal. “I would want him to touch me there! Please.” 

Lips latched lazily on your skin, sucking hard enough for you to feel it but not hard enough for marks to be left behind. “Where is’ there’ Mia? Use your words.” Your back arched in your chair when you felt his slick index finger playfully dip inside of you before returning to your clit.  “Adrien~” Your soft moans were audible now, and every small whimper made his cock ache at the thought of being the cause of your sweet noises. Adrien mockingly hummed, “Oh I see now.”

“You want him to fuck that pretty pussy of yours don’t you?”  You make a strange noise that is a mix of surprise and a moan. You’d never think words like those could leave Adrien’s mouth. “Y-Yes!”  Adrien nodded moving to use both hands now, it was an awkward position but it was worth it seeing you fall apart by his hands. “I bet you think of him at night, kissing you slowly, while his hands roam your body.”  Adrien sinks his teeth in your shoulder blade making you jerk as a particularly hard burst of pleasure racks your body. “You look so damn sexy like this kitty cat.’

You lean forward, holding yourself up by your desk as Adrien’s fingers move faster on your clit. “I can feel how fast your heart is beating, you gonna cum?” The teasing tone in his voice ignited the smallest ounce of competitiveness within you. You grit your teeth and shake your head, “Don’t get so full of yourself Agreste.” Your eyes clenched shut at the feeling of a finger finally entering you. Adrien looked at you with narrowed eyes. He wasn’t a fan when you got competitive, especially when you were obviously bluffing.

There was a thin layer of sweat forming on your skin as your orgasm got closer. Adrien focused on the way your walls quivered around his finger. Your choked-back moans cut the air as he pumps his finger faster. Your wetness was dripping onto your underwear and around his palm making squelching noises. “Are you sure you aren’t going to cum?” Adrien whispered close to your ear taking glee when a tremor passed down your spine. Your orgasm was too damn close for him to stop so you decide to swallow your pride just this once. “F-faster, Adrien, I’m close.” Those were indeed the wrong words to say. Adrien slowed his finger down to slow pumps while his thumb pressed harshly on your clit. He laughed as he could practically feel it throbbing, “I thought you said you weren’t going to cum?” You try to grind down on his hand, bucking slightly as his rough palm stimulated your sensitive lips. “Don’t be an ass ah-fuck!”

You grip the edge of your desk as you finally cum on his hand. Your eyelids flutter and Adrien marvels that the feeling of your cunt that was squeezing him so tightly he could neither tell if it was pulling him in or pushing him out. 

You grunt as he removes his finger, when you look over at him, he is preoccupied with pulling his cock out while licking his fingers clean of your cum. Adrien whimpered around his fingers as his other hand jerked his cock sharply “Ah, you taste better than I thought.” Your eyes travel down his chest to meet his junior. It was thick and surprisingly long. You couldn’t help but feel sorrow for the angry red it was at the tip. But the vein traveling up the side made your mouth water.

His hips bucked to meet his hand desperately. Curses left his soft lips as he tossed his head back in pleasure. A deep warmth flooded your gut from the vibrant imagery of him fucking you with it. “Mia-ah shit.” You raise your head up to meet his eyes, your heart skipping a beat at how the green of his eyes was almost completely drowned by his pupils. “It’s not fair if I helped you get you off, but you won’t help me.” You scootch forward a little bit, swallowing your saliva, “What do you want me to do?” Adrien spread his legs with his hands holding the sides of his chair, “Come on Mi, I haven’t even fucked you yet and you’ve already gone dumb?” 

A hand comes on your shoulder and gently coaxes you down to your knees. You feel small as Adrien peers down at you,  gaze disrupted as his cock begins twitching in front of you. Nervousness enters your head as you quickly come to the realization of how large his dick actually was. “What, are you afraid Mia? Or do I need to get you into the mood?”  Adrien sits up straighter, “Claws out.”  Your tilt your head curious as he combs his fingers through his hair, revealing...cat ears? The sight of a green glow slithering around his body was almost as unnerving as the sight of his outfit changing right before you. 

In little as no time flat, Paris’s neighborhood hero sat in front of you in all his leather glory. His eyes seemed even greener than before, and his personality seemed to change right before you. “Adrien you’re Chat Noir!?” The blond shrugs nonchalantly, gripping his cock and slapping it against your cheek. “Mi I am all for the formalities, but I am so close to fucking your brains out right now, that I think it would be in your best interest to start sucking.” While still being conscious of your hairstyle, Adrien...Noir, pulls your head closer to his groin.

You resist the urge to scrunch your face at the feeling of precum being smeared on your mouth and chin. This resistance only makes Noir chuckle, “Stick your tongue out for me.”  As if it was routine, you do as he says and moan softly from the feeling of his tip tapping your warm muscle. “So fucking perfect for me.”  The praise makes you clench and gives you the courage to open your mouth wider. You suck on his member making him release a pleased growl. His hand laid limply on the back of your head as you take the lead.

The salty taste while slightly unpleasant, wholly addictive. Feeling your growing comfort, Adrien begins thrusting to meet your mouth. The tip of his cock goes all the way to the back of your throat making you choke before dragging back but the sounds of you struggling doesn’t dissuade him. The feeling of your tongue grazing over his vein just before your throat constricted around him drove him wild. Your tiny whimpers made his balls vibrate as he moved faster.

You place your hands on his thighs in order to stable yourself as his thrusts got more brutal. Slob collected around your mouth before dripping down your chin and finally collected by his balls every time they hit your jaw. “Fuck I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum!” Adrien’s voice pitched higher as his claws scratched into the wooden chair of his seat. His head tossed back violently as his thrusts became sloppy, legs shaking. Loud sobs left his mouth as you bright him closer to the edge each thrust is accentuated by filthy words. “Your mouth is so. fucking. Tight. Fuck Mia!”

You felt cum shoot down your throat as Adrien holds your head painfully against this crotch. He weakly thrusts into your mouth a few more times before realizing you. Gasping for air, you wipe your mouth of saliva and look up at Adrien as he catches his breath.  Rough hands grip your chin making you look up at him. “You looked wrecked Mi.” Adrien laughs as he wipes cum off the corner of your mouth.  You stand up wobbly and albeit a bit light-headed, Adrien stands with you and kisses your lips, enjoying the taste of himself in your mouth.

“We are going to finish this later.” Before your brain could even prompt you to ask, the bell rings signaling that detention was over. Adrien deactivates his miraculous before grabbing his backpack and leaving detention hall.

[labomi]

a demon’s promise | (18+)

summary: You didn't want to spend your Friday night trying to summon the king of all demons in your tiny apartment, but here you are with your best friend by your side reciting an incantation from a strange book. To your utter relief, the spell doesn't work or so you seem to think.

pairing: sukuna ryomen x f!reader

words: 4.2k

warnings: explicit sexual content, slight dubcon, smut, explicit language, choking, overstimulation, rough sex, pet names, not a particularly happy ending

notes: read on ao3 here! first sukuna piece and i don’t have much to say except aahhhhh!! i initially planned it to be more of a cute, fluffy story but obviously that didn’t happen oops. well anyways thanks for reading!

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” you ask hesitantly, watching your best friend finish drawing a pentagram on your living room floor. Kimi dusts the chalk off her fingers, admiring her work with a satisfied smile.

“Oh, come on,” she says, a little exasperated at you. “Don’t bail on me now. Aren’t you the tiniest bit excited?”

“About summoning a demon from a weird book you found in the back of a sketchy thrift shop? Yea, I’m absolutely thrilled,” you deadpan.

It was about a week ago when Kimi surprised you with her new find. The book was bound in torn leather and filled with handwritten notes about how to conjure the supernatural on ink stained, wrinkled pages. It certainly looked old, but you couldn’t help but think it was a scam. Some kid might have decided to replicate the look and feel of an ancient book, filling it with absolute nonsense that your best friend was clearing falling for. 

Unfortunately, once Kimi had gotten a hold of this book, she would not shut up about it. For the past week, you tried your best to feign interest in her new obsession as she flipped through pages, oohing and aahing at the sketches and descriptions of different types of demons. They ranged from little mischievous creatures to incubi and succubi and even a terrifying being that ate the souls of its prey.

For the most part, you think the book is absolutely absurd, but you can't ignore the tiny voice in your head that is just a little terrified about the potential existence of demons. Kimi had begged you nonstop to try one of the spells. You were hesitant and initially said no, but she kept begging you over and over again. Eventually you gave in because she was your best friend, and she was clearly excited about trying out the book with you. There is no harm in humoring her a little, right?

Kimi finishes lighting the five candles that surround the pentagram as you place a small bowl in the center.

“Alright!” Kimi says, clapping her hands. She looks at the open spell book next to her, double checking the instructions. “The only thing left is a drop of human blood.” Kimi looks at you expectantly.

You blink and point a finger at yourself. “Me?” you squeak. “But isn’t this your idea?”

“But you know how squeamish I get about pain and blood! Pretty pretty pleaassee,” your best friend begs.

You sigh. “Alright, alright. You owe me big time for this. Hand me the knife.” Kimi happily gives you the small knife that you had grabbed earlier from the kitchen. Scrunching your face, you make a tiny little cut on your index finger and squeeze one drop of blood into the bowl. You suck on your finger, hoping it would scab over quickly. “Ok, now what?”

Kimi turns the page. “Now we just have to say this incantation together. Come here.” You scoot over to sit next to your friend as she holds the book between the two of you. Together, you both recite the words scribbled down on the crumbled page.

You wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And nothing happens.

“Umm,” you break the awkward silence. “Nothing happened.”

“No, this can’t be right.” Kimi groans and starts aggressively flipping through the pages. “We followed the instructions exactly. It should have worked!”

Part of you feels relieved. You weren’t particularly thrilled about inviting the supernatural into your tiny apartment on a Friday night. Now you’re more convinced that the book really is a fake.

“What were we supposed to summon anyway?” you ask, a little curious.

Kimi frowns, still re-reading the instructions. “A creature named Sukuna Ryomen. Apparently he’s the king of all demons.”

Your mouth falls open in shock. “What the fuck, Kimi? The king? You chose to summon the king of all demons? What were you thinking? I thought we were going to summon those harmless creatures that steal people’s left socks or something like that!”

Kimi huffs. “Well, I did ask you what we should summon, but you said you didn’t care and that I should pick something. So I did!”

You rub your temples, trying to keep calm. “You’re right, you’re right. My bad. I’m sorry.” You could tell that Kimi is already quite upset that the spell didn’t work, and you were just adding fuel to the fire. “Hey! It’s ok. Let’s just take the rest of the night off. I’ll clean everything up, don’t worry about it. And listen, maybe we can try a different spell next week. Perhaps there’s not enough spiritual energy in this room or something to summon the big guy.”

Kimi perks up a little at your words. “We can try again next week? Really?”

You nod. “Promise. Take the book back to your place and choose something a little bit more tame, ok?”

Kimi giggles. “Ok, I promise too!” She grabs the book and carefully places it in her bag before getting up and heading towards the door. You follow her and give her a quick hug.

“Talk to you tomorrow,” you say.

“Yep! Good night!”

Once Kimi leaves your apartment, you let out a deep breath. You survey the mess on your living room floor with a frown. You truly love your best friend to death, but she’s just a little too adventurous for your tastes sometimes.

A sudden wave of lethargy washes over you, causing you to lean against your kitchen counter for support. You rub your eyes, struggling to keep them open as your eyelids start to feel unusually heavy. 

Weird.

It isn’t particularly late, so you are a bit surprised to feel so tired out of the blue. You figure the excitement of tonight’s activities likely got the best of you, so you decide to retire early for the night. Walking into the living room, you blow out all the candles around the pentagram before retreating into your bedroom. You will clean up everything tomorrow. No harm in letting it sit out for the night.

---

You wake up with a start. The darkness of your bedroom greets you. Groaning, you grab your phone in order to check the time but it was dead. You silently curse at yourself for forgetting to charge it before passing out. You lean back in your bed with a sigh. Normally, you sleep through the night undisturbed. You briefly wonder what had woken you up. 

Crash!

You instantly freeze and hold your breath. The noise came from the living room. It sounded like something had fallen. You try to calm your racing heart as you convince yourself that it was just one of your decorations falling off the wall. But you know you won’t be able to comfortably go back to sleep without checking, so you quietly slip out of bed and open your bedroom door. You peek into the living room, but you’re unable to make out anything clearly in the darkness. 

You fully step out of your bedroom and hit the light switch for the living room. Squinting your eyes, you try to adjust to the sudden brightness. Once your vision finally clears, you gasp. 

There’s someone in your living room.

The first thing you notice about the intruder is his tattoos. Intricate symbols mark his entire body, including his face.

The second thing you realize is that he’s completely naked.

You open your mouth to scream, but the intruder appears right in front of you within the blink of an eye and clamps his large hand over your mouth to shush you.

“Be quiet,” he growls deeply. “You can’t act so surprised. After all, you’re the one who called me here.”

You feel a chill crawl down your spine as your eyes widen in realization.

No. No. It can’t be.

Once the intruder is convinced you won’t start screaming, he removes his hand from your mouth. He stands back and takes in your appearance as you stand there numbly in your pajama shirt and shorts.

“A woman, huh.” He licks his lips. “I wasn’t expecting a woman to be the one to resurrect me, but I’m not complaining.”

This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening!

You try to convince yourself that you’re still dead asleep in your bed and dreaming about this entire encounter. There is no way that damn book actually worked!

“Ryomen Sukuna,” you whisper to yourself, suddenly recalling the name of the demon you tried to summon with Kimi.

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up. “Oh! You’ve heard of me!” He grins. “You should feel honored to be in the presence of the Great King of Demons.”

You shudder at his voice. There’s a certain aura of power, strength, and pure evil that you can feel radiating from the demon, but his appearance is still rather surprising. For the Great King of Demons, he looks rather...human. You could have easily mistaken him as a normal man who just really liked tattoos. No tail. No wings. No horns. Perhaps your view of demons was a bit outdated.

“I have to admit. I’m a little disappointed,” Sukuna says with a small frown, surveying his own body. “It seems you didn’t summon me correctly. My power is nowhere near what it should be, and it took me forever to spawn into this measly physical form. I normally have four arms and two faces.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head. Did he say four arms? And two faces?

The demon taps a finger on his chin in thought. “I did start off as a human before becoming a demon, so I guess it makes sense I’m reborn looking like a human at first.”

You silently thank your friend for messing up the ritual. If Sukuna had spawned immediately at full power, the two of you would have both been in danger. At least it’s only you in harm’s way. Kimi is safe and sound, far away from your tiny apartment.

“It’s ok,” Sukuna purrs, approaching you. “It doesn’t matter that you messed up the ritual a little. You can help me fix it now, pet.”

You stumble backwards, heart racing and body quivering in fear. He reaches out to place his hands on your shoulders, steadying you before pushing you against the wall. You instantly freeze, breath caught in your throat as you wonder what he’ll ask of you.

Sukuna lightly strokes your cheek with one hand. You want to recoil in fear and disgust, but your body remains frozen in horror.

“You haven’t noticed?” he asks. “It was your blood used in the summoning ritual. That means we are bonded.”

No. No.

Sukuna places two fingers underneath your chin and lifts them up so you look directly up into his eyes. You tremble uncontrollably as you meet his dark gaze.

“The way I regain my strength is by sucking the energy out of you. You might have noticed that you felt tired and sluggish after the ritual. That’s because the it took a lot of energy from you to give me a physical form. Don’t worry though, it’s not enough to kill you. But you are pretty weak, so it might take me awhile to regain my full strength.”

You gulp. The Great King of Demons at full strength? You know you have to prevent this from happening somehow, but your phone is dead, the book is gone, and Sukuna is not likely to let you leave his sight long enough for you to figure out a plan. Was it even possible to fight back against him? Maybe your best bet was to comply with his demands and hope he spares you.

“But there is a way to speed up the process.” He looks down at your body hungrily before leaning his head towards you until his lips hover over your left ear. “Sex,” he whispers huskily.

You stiffen slightly and try to ignore the spark that travels down your body and lights up your core.

“Wh-what do you mean?” you stammer nervously.

“I feed off your body’s energy, and everyone knows that there’s nothing more powerful than sexual energy. Sex gets your heart racing and blood pumping. It’s the perfect energy source for my complete resurrection.” Sukuna moves away from your ear and grins at your stricken face. “You are the one who summoned me here. It would be rude to not feed your guest and accommodate his needs.”

He places a thumb on your bottom lip, rubbing it back and forth. You try not to react, but your body won’t listen to you. Sukuna’s presence is overwhelming. His bare chest is practically pressed against your body. His eyes are dark with lust as he gazes at your face. His thumb continues to rub your lips which leaves you flustered. Your mind feels hazy, and your body feels unusually warm. A small, sane part of you tries to fight back. A little voice in your head reminds that this is the king of all demons. How could you fall for the literal embodiment of pure evil?

“I know you’re turned on,” Sukuna says smugly. You look away feeling absolutely mortified, but the demon grabs your head and forces you to look back at him. “Ah ah. Keep your eyes on me. No need to get embarrassed. Like I said before, I was resurrected from your blood, so we share a connection. This means I can feel your blood pumping in your own body, and I can tell exactly where it’s headed.” Sukuna drops his gaze down your body to emphasize his point. He doesn’t miss how your thighs suddenly clench together.

With a dangerous flash in his eyes, Sukuna hoists you over his shoulder and throws you on your bed. Before you could even think about saying no, Sukuna is on top of you harshly nipping and sucking at your neck. One hand is already underneath your shirt, fondling one of your breasts and playing with your hard nipple. He sucks at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck which leaves you moaning shamelessly underneath him. Any doubts or reservations immediately leave your mind. 

Your body feels like it’s on fire being this close to Sukuna. He chuckles darkly, leaving your neck and pulling out his hand from underneath your skirt. “That’s my good pet,” he purrs. “So eager just for me.” Sukuna kisses you roughly, leaving you gasping as you try to match his fervor. Eventually he leans back and admires how swollen your lips look after his harsh treatment. Your pupils are blown wide with lust. With Sukuna’s face hovering just above yours, you can’t help but admire his unique markings. Without realizing, you reach a hand out and start tracing the lines on his cheek. Sukuna stills for a moment, enjoying your tender touch. 

The moment of gentleness shatters when Sukuna rips open your shirt with his bare hands. He immediately latches onto one of your breasts with his mouth and roughly gropes the other. You grip the back of his head, digging your fingers in his short hair. He bites down a little too sharply on your nipple, causing you to yelp in slight pain. Sukuna lightly chuckles at your reaction and finally pulls away, giving your now sore breasts a break. He suddenly flips your positions so that you are now hovering over him as his back hits the bed.

You stare at his chiseled chest and can’t resist rubbing your hands up and down his prominent muscles. Sukuna observes you with an amused look as you openly admire his body. 

“You like what you see?” he smirks.

You ignore the question and begin peppering light kisses down his chest and over his abs. The demon hums, enjoying your soft touch all over his body. However, he eventually has enough of your teasing. He pushes your head down until you’re forced to look at something you’ve tried to avoid glancing at the entire night. Your heart flutters with a little nervousness as you’re greeted with Sukuna’s dick. It’s long and thick with just the slightest curve. You wonder how you’re going to be able to handle his impressive size.

Sukuna can sense your hesitation, so he decides to give you a little push. He grabs your hair roughly and brings your face closer to his throbbing dick. “Be a good girl and open wide.” With a shaky breath, you take the tip of Sukuna’s cock into your mouth. He’s so thick that you can barely fit him in your mouth. With the demon’s hand still on your head, he coaxes you take him in deeper and you oblige. Sukuna groans as your hot, wet mouth takes more and more of his length. You look so good with your lips wrapped around his cock. 

You start to bob your head up and down to Sukuna’s delight, but he’s rather annoyed at your languid pace. “Too slow,” he growls and that’s the only warning you get before the demon jerks his hips up sharpy. You gag as his dick hits the back of your throat, but Sukuna's firm grasp on your head keeps you in place. He tightens his grip and then begins to roughly thrust into your mouth. You try to relax your throat and keep your composure even as tears start to fall from your eyes as the demon ruthlessly fucks your face.

“You feel so good,” Sukuna groans. “You were made to take my dick.” A particularly rough thrust leaves you gagging again and drooling all over his cock. “Fuck yea, just like that.”

Once the demon is satisfied, he releases his grip on your hair and you immediately pull back to catch your breath. You wipe the spit from your mouth and the tears from your eyes, panting heavily from the rough treatment. Sukuna silently admires the way your breasts look against your heaving chest.

“Take the rest of your clothes off,” he demands. You shakily get off the bed and shimmy out of your pajama shorts. As you roll down your underwear, Sukuna doesn’t miss how it’s already drenched with your arousal. As you climb back on the bed, Sukuna roughly places you underneath him once again. He spreads open your legs and presses a finger against your entrance to test your wetness.

“Damn,” Sukuna growls. “You’re this wet from choking on my cock.” You moan in relief as you finally feel some friction against your throbbing core. “A good little whore just for me.”

The demon strokes your folds at a leisurely pace which drives you insane. You unconsciously grind against his hand, silently begging him to pick up the tempo, but Sukuna just chuckles and continues to tease you. He barely brushes your swollen clit with each stroke, causing you to whine in frustration.

“Please,” you whimper.

Sukuna raises his eyebrows with a smirk. “Please what?” He suddenly stops his ministrations to your immediate displeasure.

You bite your lip feeling slightly embarrassed, but you decide to swallow whatever pride you have left. “T-touch me. I want to feel you. I n-need to feel you.”

“Only because you asked so sweetly,” Sukuna hums. He finally rubs his thumb over your throbbing clit, and you immediately cry out as pleasure wracks your body. The demon’s touch becomes faster and rougher, leaving you a writhing mess underneath him. Just as you’re about to hit your climax, Sukuna pulls away and you can’t stop the frustrated whine that leaves your mouth. He strokes his dick amused by your reaction and leans down to whisper in your ear. “Wouldn’t it feel better to cum around my cock? Come on. Tell me that’s what you want, pet.”

The fire between your legs only grows as you listen to his words. Desperate for any sort of release, you beg for Sukuna’s cock. “P-please fuck me. I need your dick so badly. Please please please.”

Sukuna answers your pleas by lining his cock against your sopping entrance before pushing into you in one go. You groan at the slight burn as your walls stretch around his wide girth, but you’re so wet he manages to slide his entire length into you without much resistance. Once he’s fully sheathed, the feeling is completely overwhelming. You feel absolutely stuffed to the brim with his giant cock pulsing inside you.

“Oh my god,” you breath. “You’re so big. Fuck.”

Sukuna doesn’t give you much chance to adjust to his size as he immediately pulls out until only his tip remains before ramming back into you at full force. You yelp at the sudden movement, while the demon softly groans. He sets a brutal pace that leaves you absolutely breathless. With every snap of his hips, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your toes curl in pleasure, and you rake your nails down his muscular back as the demon fucks you senseless.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Sukuna growls as you continue to moan and whimper wantonly underneath him. When the head of his cock hits that sensitive spot inside you at just the right angle, the tension in your body finally snaps and a wave of pleasure completely washes over you. You cry out as you reach your climax, squeezing your eyes shut as you surrender yourself to the sensations of pure bliss.

Once you start to come down from your high, Sukuna pulls out of you and adjusts your body so that you’re on your hands and knees. Your arms are still quivering from your orgasm but you have just enough strength to keep yourself from collapsing. Both you and Sukuna groan as he enters you once again. He somehow fucks you even harder than before. The lewd, wet noises of your bodies slamming against one of another fill the bedroom. Sukuna grips your waist with such force as he slams into you over and over again that you know you’ll wake up with nasty bruises tomorrow. In this position, it feels like his cock is pushing even deeper inside you at such a brutal pace.

“You going to cum on my cock again?” Sukuna pants. He slaps your ass, and you squeak at the unexpected sting. “Answer the question, pet.” He gives you another slap.

“Oh god, yes,” you gasp as your cunt clenches around him. “F-fuck. Your cock feels s-so good.” Satisfied with your answer, Sukuna reaches around to rub your clit. It was just the right amount of extra stimulation you needed to reach your climax again. Your body shudders as you lose yourself to the white hot pleasure. Sukuna pulls out of you, and you immediately collapse on the bed.

“Who said we were done yet, pet?” The demon picks you up and places you on top of him as he lays back on the bed. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck as your hard nipples rub against his chest. You can feel his still erect cock poking at your entrance. “I want to watch your face as I fill you up with my cum.” 

You wince as he slips back into you. You’re already starting to feel overstimulated and sore, but Sukuna hasn’t shown any signs of slowing down yet. He ruts into your limp body, only concerned about chasing his own pleasure.

You don’t think it’s possible for you to cum again, but Sukuna’s cock is continuing to hit all the right places. The pain from overstimulation only seems to egg you on further as you feel the familiar tension building within your body once again. Sukuna groans as your walls start to clench down on him. His thrusts become more erratic as he approaches his own release. 

As he continues to pound into you as you’re splayed across his chest, the demon tells you about all the humans he’ll kill once he’s at full power. Not even women or children will be safe from his destruction. He’ll lay siege to all Japan, perhaps even the world. Sukuna mentions how the golden age of demons will begin once again. 

You begin crying, but you can’t even tell if it’s from the overstimulation, the shame of letting him use you like this, or the guilt of bringing such a horrifying demon back to Earth. With one more rough thrust, you come undone again for the third time during the night. Sukuna follows right after you, pumping you full of his cum. There’s so much that you can already feel his seed leaking out of you.

Sukuna remains still, trying to catch his breath as you quietly sob against his chest. The demon rubs your head with surprising tenderness. 

“Don’t worry, pet. I promise I’ll spare you,” Sukuna says. “You’re mine now. No one else will ever touch you again.”

You hiccup through your tears as Sukuna’s words fill you with dread. It’s all your fault. He’s going to be reborn at full power and wipe out human civilization because of you. The guilt tears at your heart.

What have you done?

Sukuna can already feel his power returning to him. It’s only a matter of time before he’ll be unstoppable. Perhaps a couple of more days of indulging himself with your body will get the job done. He rubs your back, feeling how your sobs rack your body. Your tears only amuse him. Just another sign of how weak humans really are.

“Get ready for the new age, pet. And it’s all thanks to you.”

[bubblywriter0]

I’m your biggest fan! Bakugou x reader x Todoroki

Word count: 2.6k of filth 

Warnings: non-con, smut, degradation, double-penetration 

tagging: @twynity @tommy-braccoli​

You were his secretary. Katsuki Bakugou, the hot-headed, incredibly stubborn, and undeniably handsome Ground Zero. Being the number three Hero's secretary had its perks, as well as its (rather exasperating) responsibilities. Which consisted of late nights, piles of paperwork, and plenty of arguments with the short-tempered Hero. 

But you loved it. 

You couldn't deny that it had you completely stressed most of the time, or that you were up till ungodly hours of the night more than once a week cleaning up his messes. But there was something charming about the snooty blonde, however hard it was to admit, and you could proudly say no one could match his outrageous temper the way you could. 

Your manager could confirm this first hand, as she had been caught in the midst of one-two many yelling matches between the two of you and always silently thanked you afterward for being able to keep him in his place.  

You held your own with the number three Hero, and though he would never admit it out loud, you were one of the very few people that could get him to see reason when his temper took over. You were a strong, independent woman. Which is why you never imagined yourself in this position, at least not in this way. 

—

Katsuki Bakugou was undeniably attractive. And an insatiable tease. He could (to your annoyance) read you easier than you anyone, and he had made your knees go weak too many times with his low-tone remarks or "accidental" intimate touches. But, you never gave in. 

You never took action on the desires that bubbled right underneath the surface. Not when you were fuming, inches away from each other from some dumb, long forgotten argument, the tension so thick anyone who walked in would slam against it. You even humored the thought of going out on a date. Just two colleagues going out for a drink after work, if not only to scratch the itch of something more. 

But the blunt hero never took the bait, couldn't seem to ask you out like a regular person. Instead, he had to drive you insane with teasing touches and suggestive remarks, that damn smirk and low voice carrying into your bedroom late at night when you were by yourself. Yet, being the responsible little secretary you were, you never gave in.

And then today, he finally seemed to snap. 

It started in the middle of your meeting. Some bastard was going on and on about some dumb policies and Bakugou couldn't be less interested. He internally groaned as he checked his watch just to find that he would have to sit through twenty more agonizing minutes of this. Tch. If this shithead pulls out one more Venn diagram I'm gonna fucking lose it. He fought the urge to prop his feet up on the desk, instead letting his gaze lazily wander to you. 

Aw. Look at you, such a good little secretary. His good little secretary, his brain added possessively. He chuckled quietly to himself, noting the way your pencil was tucked behind your ear, your brow scrunched in concentration as you scribbled down notes like a diligent student. He smirked as his eyes wandered down to see your pretty little skirt hiked up those cute thighs of yours. He licked his lips as he watched you bounce your foot gently, your thigh slightly jiggling from the movement. God, he just wanted to sink his teeth into you. 

You barely caught the movement in the corner of your vision, too busy watching the presentation to pay attention to Bakugou -besides, you were more than used to him getting antsy during these long meetings. So it was safe to say you didn’t take note of the large hand making its way towards you. 

You almost squealed when you felt the warm palm slide into your lap, your mouth dropping open in surprise. You practically burned up on the spot, immediately panicking and trying inconspicuously to pry it off. This only encouraged Bakugou, prompting him to squeeze the plump flesh, his thumb dragging slow, precise, and agonizing circles into your inner thigh as you squirmed, his teeth flashing as he grinned manically. He was going to enjoy this.

You couldn't focus on a word said after that, which was rather inconvenient considering you were supposed to be taking notes. The warm blush on your face hadn't left but your heart finally had slowed to a normal pace as the meeting came to an end. 

You stood quickly and smiled at the men and women leaving, unsettlingly aware of the metal chair scraping away from the table and the flooding warmth as Bakugou shuffled across the room to stand next to you. 

He grunted out less friendly goodbyes, echoing you lazily, and your eyes flew wide as you felt a hand sliding up the back of your thighs to your ass. You tried to swat his hand away but he caught your hand easily, pinning it against your back, clicking his tongue disapprovingly in your ear as he stepped up behind you. You let out a small whimper of protest and his grip on your wrist tightened painfully, pulling you with it so your back smacked against his chest, eliciting a surprised yelp from you. 

He didn't even seem to care that the last man who was about to shake your hand flushed almost as bright as you, and you squirmed helplessly as Bakugou glowered over your shoulder at the hand that was still held out. The dumbstruck man didn’t move, Bakugou’s patience wearing thin as he bared his teeth and let out a low growl, 

“Are you just gonna stand there shitty extra? You waiting for a damn show, wanna watch me fuck her real good or something?” Bakugou taunted cruelly, a hand wrapping around your neck as he leaned down to you. ‘Wadya’ say princess? You wouldn’t mind, would you? Bet your fuckin soaked right now, thinking about this shitty loser watching me bounce you on my cock, bet you’d like that, Hah” But all you could do was whine pathetically, trying to hide your red face, looking anywhere but at the flustered man. 

“Oh?” His crimson eyes narrowed at the man who was still standing there. “So you do want a show? That’s fine with me, but let’s make sure that princess here is okay with it,” he grinned again as you were suddenly thrown forward, bent over, the blood rushing to your head as you felt rough hands traveling up the back of your thighs curiously. “Let’s take a little peek and see if I’m right, hm?” 

But the poor man was already backing away, practically tripping over his feet and muttering apologies over his shoulder as he burst out of the conference room, his face bright with embarrassment and arousal judging from the obvious tent he was shielding in his pants as he made a bee-line for the bathroom. 

As the clear door swung shut you were suddenly picked up from the waist, and it took a moment for your spinning head to adjust before you started kicking your legs out in an attempt to escape. “Tsk, such a fucking brat,” Bakugou growled as he swatted at your ass, a painful sting following as you let out a yelp. 

“Stay fucking still slut.” You felt a tear drip down your cheek as you gave up your attempt to evade his grasp, your small body not standing a chance to the pounds of muscle you were up against. 

Bakugou flopped your body onto the glass table, pulling your ass towards him and flipping up your skirt onto your back so he had access to your plump behind. His heated fingers traced the exposed skin and you bit back a groan as he ran a finger down your slit. Your body automatically shivered when he yanked your panties down, hiding your head in your hands as you felt cool air tickle your dripping folds. He was right. You were sopping. 

“Aw, look at this,” you wined with embarrassment at his coos, his husky voice going straight to your exposed heat. “All wet and needy for me, huh baby?” You practically sobbed, your head nodding with shame. “Don’t worry pretty baby, I’ll take care of this mess” He pulled your legs apart and cooed again at the way your messy cunt dripped down all over the table, running a finger up your leg to collect some of your juices, popping the finger in his mouth and groaning at your taste. 

“I’ll make it all better, yeah?,” he hummed, chuckling at your incoherent mumbles and sobs. He leaned forward so his hot breath fanned against your ear, smirking as he growled in a low voice, “I asked you a fucking question slut.” You gulped at his harsh tone. “You know how to use your words, right bitch?” You nodded violently, terror making your voice tremble stupidly as you tried to answer in between hiccups, “m’s-sorry, I c-can-” He clicked his tongue, cutting you off. “I-I I’m s-sorry,” he mimicked you, sneering at the way you trembled. 

“Sluts who can’t follow simple orders don’t need to talk, do they?” You shook your head no shamefully, your cute little sobs and whimpers going straight to Katsuki’s already tight pants. “Good girl,” he cooed at your obedience, smirking as he undid his navy tie, pulling you towards him roughly. He reached around to your face and grabbed your jaw, his thumb prodding at your bottom lip. “Open,” he demanded, and you complied. 

He smirked with satisfaction at how good you were being, how easily you were letting him handle you. Such a good little slut for him, he repeated the thought again as he coaxed the handmade gag all the way into your open mouth, drool seeping down onto your chin. “There.” He grinned at the image of you looking all fucked out, cunt all messy and oh so needy, throat stuffed full, with mascara running down those pretty cheeks. “Isn’t that better baby?” He rasped as he kneaded your hips, grinding his clothed cock slowly against your dripping sex. You whined around your gag as you squirmed, fresh tears running down your stained cheeks as your body begged for more, begged to be filled by something, anything.     

Luckily for you Bakugou seemed to understand, fingers attacking your swollen clit as he humped against you lazily. “Need something pretty baby?” He laughed at your silence, but made quick work of unzipping his slacks as he pulled himself out of his pants, jerking himself once before spreading your cheeks. He groaned at the sight of his fat cock slipping between them as your needy cunt sucked him in, your body finally relaxing a bit as he slid inside you fully.

 He gave you no time to adjust, pulling out halfway just to slam back in, making you squeal around your gag. You rocked yourself back and forth on the table, chasing your much needed release as Bakugou used you, pulling your hips back to try and fit more of him inside you, your eyes rolling back at how good he felt. He almost didn’t notice how close you were, focusing on the way your weeping cunt kept sucking him in, squeezing around him whenever he growled filthy obscenities into your ear. 

But when you started babbling mindlessly around your gag, pushing back against him, he caught onto what you were doing, smirking at how quickly he’d reduced you to this. “Gonna come for me pretty baby? You gonna come around this fat cock?” You nodded, sobbing at how close you were.  “Go ahead, make a mess slut,” he growled against your ear, teeth grazing your skin as his warm tongue slipped out and prodded at it. You shivered uncontrollably as your body convulsed, giving into the intense pleasure as you focused on the heat between your slick thighs combined with the way Katsuki’s mouth was working down your neck, your orgasm racking through your body in euphoric waves, your cunt squeezing around Bakugou's dick as you came. 

You trembled as you slowly came down from your high, your sticky fluids sliding down your cheeks as Bakugou continued to pound into you. Everything felt so sensitive and suddenly the immense pleasure you were feeling mixed with something else and it was, “too m-much Katsuki, please s’too much,” but your cries were muffled and there was no way in hell he was letting you go now, grabbing your hips tighter as he thrust in and out of you, the lewd squelches from your dripping pussy making him feral. 

“Aw, you can take it princess,” he grunted with a sick grin as you tried to crawl away from him, squirming hopelessly on the glass table. “You’re not going anywhere, you’re gonna stay here and take it all like a good girl, you hear me?” He slapped your ass hard, emphasizing his point while his hips drove forward to meet your messy hole, groaning at the way your cheeks tinted pink from the impact, spanking you again to hear to feel you squeeze around him even tighter. “You like that slut?” He sneered, “Of course you do.” 

But you were too distracted by the flash of red and white that caught the corner of your vision. 

You raised your head slowly, only to be met with the inquisitive gaze of- You gasped. Shouto Todoroki. The Shouto Todoroki, the number Two Pro Hero you’d watched on TV for years, fawned over, and now... 

Bakugou could only assume your small gasp was from how good he was making you feel, and he smirked at this, driving his hips into you wilder with a new sense of inspiration and pride feeding to his unbelievably large ego. But how wrong he was. 

Your breath caught in your throat as curious blue and grey orbs traveled along your form, his gaze cutting through the glass and heating your whole body up till you were almost positive it was on fire. You felt so exposed, so humiliated, and so utterly turned on. 

His eyes slowly raised back to meet yours and you swallowed nervously. His pink tongue darted out to lick his lips and his mismatched orbs held yours with such intensity and curiosity, it was so..dominant. 

And it was making your legs feel weak. It made you feel all hot and bothered as he watched the Ground Zero fucking into you without hesitation, shamelessly watching every move. And it didn’t take long for Bakugou to notice. 

Bakugou was observant, and the sudden reactions your body was having to him was a pleasant surprise, but a little random, and it didn’t take long for him to realize your attention was focused outside the room, which annoyed him. “Oi, shit head whadya..” he trailed off as he caught sight of the red and white boy standing outside of the room, and he suddenly remembered he had a meeting with him scheduled for this afternoon, in this room. 

He had half the mind too cover you up and go tell the icy-hot bastard off but, what was this? You certainly seemed to be enjoying the way the dual-colored Hero was watching you get fucked. Did this.. Get you off? A shit eating grin spread across Bakugou’s face at the realization, the wheels already turning in his head. 

So his pretty little secretary wanted to act like a whore, huh? Then he’d treat her like one. 

You hear Bakugou chuckle darkly, yanking your hips back to gain more leverage, sneering at the heat rising to your face. Lips brush against your ear and a raspy voice whispers, "Oh look, it's your favorite little hero, Shoto Todoroki. Wave to him, princess"

—

Hope you enjoyed! Part 2 coming soon:)