#and most have given up on me when my tests come back normal

[duality-disability]

Does any other disabled person with a mystery illness get the worry that their health problems are genetically caused?

like. I was adopted by my maternal grandparents. I dont know who my dad is, or his family history; My health issues are presenting in a way that no one else on my maternal side does, so I wonder if it's something that just.. Runs very strong genetically on my paternal side.

You don't know you're a zebra if you're in a pasture of horses, and well, you wont know unless someone tells you. A lot of the time you just get told "you're a weird lookin horse."

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Accidentally Conquering Humanity

*Audience claps as talk show begins

Human Host: Good morning world, and welcome to the start of your day.

Human Host: I’m your host David Jefferson.

Human Host 2: And I’m Joy Menferd.

David: Our first guest today is a recent tech entrepreneur visiting our little planet today all the way from Vengon VI; please give a warm welcome to Kelnor Hi’tel!

*Audience begins to clap as Kelnor slowly levitates on to the stage from the back. They nervously wave their tentacles at the human gathering before sitting down on the couch next to Joy.

Kelnor: *Slit in mouth vibrates but never opens

Kelnor: Greetings human David and human Joy.

Kelnor: Kelnor is most joyful to be on this human entertainment circuit.

David: *Laughs and smiles

David: Well if that isn’t the warmest welcome I’ve had since we invited Drumstick the acrobatic chicken.

Joy: Didn’t we have him on the show last week?

David: *Shrugs

David: What can I say; it’s been a long week.

Audience: *Laughs

David: Now Kelnor I understand you are here to show us one of your latest inventions.

Kelnor: This is correct.

*Kelnor’s tentacle reaches into pocket and withdraws a small vile

Kelnor: Kelnor calls it “Serum PS”.

David: Did you come up with that name?

Kelnor: Kelnor did.

David: Then I would invest in a marketing firm before you put that to market

Audience: *Laughs

Kelnor: Kelnor thought it an appropriate name as it has a connection to your people.

Joy: Oh?

Joy: And what would that be?

Kelnor: I believe your culture calls it the “Philosopher Stone”.

Audience: *Quiet gasps

David: If I’m not mistaken, that is the legend of a stone that can turn metal to gold or give its user eternal life?

Kelnor: That is correct.

Joy: He learned that watching harry potter last night.

David: I’m a raven claw and not ashamed of it.

Audience: *Laughs

David: So are you telling us that this will make us, say, live forever?

Kelnor: *Shakes head

Kelnor: Sadly no.

David: Well that’s a sh-

Kelnor: But it will drastically increase the lifespan of your indentured servants.

Audience: *Awkward silence

Joy: Pardon me?

Kelnor: Kelnor asks for forgiveness.

Kelnor: Human language is still a subject Kelnor is learning.

Kelnor: Kelnor believes you would call them “Pets”.

Audience: *Silence

Joy: Could you repeat that?

Kelnor: How Serum PS works is when it is injected into the body of a creature, it induces the host to begin producing more cells that are more abundant during the development stages of early life.

Kelnor: These cells normally cease production when the host reaches maturity, but with the injection the host begins to produce them again for an extended period of time.

Kelnor: Now while tests have shown that when used on human bodies the desired effect is not reached as the body cannot handle the sudden influx of new cells, your pet’s bodies can handle it as their life spans are much shorter.

Kelnor:  The shorter the original lifespan means it is easier to restart the cell production process without causing harm to the host.

Audience: *Hushed whispers

Joy: So given your tests, how far can you extend the lifespan?

Kelnor: Projections show that the pet host can reach the age of 80 human years before their bodies can no longer accept the influx of newly generated cells much like your human body can.

Joy: Well that is simply fascinating, don’t you think David?

David: How much do you want for that vial?

Joy: David?

David: I’m being totally serious, how much do you want for that vile right now?

Kelnor: Kelnor had not expected to sell so soon.

Joy: *Laughs nervously

Joy: I can tell someone’s-

David: *Snaps at Joy

David: Shut it!

David: *Turns back to Kelnor as audience members begin making some phone calls

David: My retriever Baxter is 18 years old and he’s gone blind, and you say this could make him young and see again?

Kelnor:*Thoughtfully nods

Kelnor: If the blindness was a result of age process then yes, Serum PS should reverse that as the cell influx begins.

David: I’ll wire five thousand credits to you right now for that vial.

Joy: David!

Kelnor: Kelnor had no plans to charge so much for-

Audience member: *Shouts

Audience member: I’ll triple that!

Audience member: My Mr. Snickers needs that more than his dog!

David: I’ll pay 50,000!

David: I’ll even throw in my hover car in the parking lot on top.

David: *Reaches into pocket and pulls out electric key, then shoves it into Kelnor’s tentacle.

David: Top of the line model, can go from 0 to 120 in under a minute and it’s all yours plus the money!

Kelnor: *Looking a bit nervous now; tentacles coiling around their body and the vial as Kelnor can sense the raw desire for the vial.

Kelnor: Kelnor can assure you, human David, and the other human’s watching that there is more than this vial soon to be for sale.

David: But that is the only one right now?

Kelnor: Well, yes, but-

Camera Man: *Leans around camera

Camera Man: I’ll trade you blackmail material on Joy and David for it!

Joy: What?!

Camera Man: They forget to turn off the camera drones when they go back into their dressing rooms and that footage is all yours for that there vial!

Joy: You sick son of a bitch!

Joy: I’ll have you fired and out on the street!

Camera Man: What part of “Blackmail” do you not understand?!

Camera Man: My lizard Finchy’s been acting up lately and doctors don’t know why.

Camera Man: Unless you want that footage showing up on the web you’d best get me that vial, Joy!

*Camera spins around as audience members begin walking towards set with wallets, keys, jewels, and other materialistic items of value all in an attempt to entice Kelnor for the vial.

*Camera feed cuts as several audience members begin fighting each other while David continues upping his offer to Kelnor. --------------------------------

*6 weeks and 357 trillion credits profit later

Kelnor: *Sitting with fellow researchers

Kelnor: Well……..this escalated quickly.

*Researchers all nod slowly as they sip their drinks.

Researcher Tinuk: Tinuk thinks we own another continent of the human planet after this morning’s shipment trade.  

Kelnor: We now own ALL, their continents now.

*Researchers mumble in disbelief

Researcher Nav’ra: When we were making this, Nav’ra honestly expected it to be a novelty item in gag shop on homeworld.

*Researchers collectively nod

Researcher Yuni: Agreed.

Researcher Yuni: Yuni did not think any species would care so much about lower life forms.

Kelnor: *Takes deep swig

Kelnor: Humans are not like other species.

Kelnor: *Refills glass

Kelnor: Kelnor watched elderly human female drive through line of other humans at distribution center to save their pet pig.

Kelnor: *Downs another glass

Researcher Tinuk: What is a pig?

Kelnor: *Shrugs with tentacles

Kelnor: Kelnor still does not know, but it was important enough to decease thirteen humans for in process.

[eloquent-edits]

🗡️ “I can assure you, we are just friends.”

definitely not something that’s a little more than friends 🗡️ friends with benefits prompts 🗡️ 18+ prompts

While Person A is chatting with their friends, Person B sidles up to A and subtly trails a finger up their spine (does A stutter? go completely silent at the electricity going through their body? start to get red but manage to keep their composure? TELL ME WHAT HAPPENS)

B begs A to not leave any marks because they just can’t let this secret get out

For that beach episode: A takes off their shirt, exposing scratch marks from a recent session… B hides a sly grin as A is questioned about who they’re with

A is very physically affectionate in general, but has fallen into the habit of only bothering B in public with it

^ A wants to interact with B in many ways and just ends up biting their arm jokingly to satiate that desire (yes, their friends think this is weird)

B needs to be held accountable for finishing their work, so A comes over to hang out… they do not get work done for a while

At a party, B can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy when they spot A flirting with someone

A’s childhood friend is in town and A is super excited to have them meet B (B is quietly panicking over making a good impression and wondering what A has said about them)

A and B are in the same anatomy class and they spend a lot of time studying together (A is most certainly a hands-on learner hehehehe)

“Is that B’s shirt?” “What? Oh, uh, yes… My shirt got dirty the last time I was over there so they’re washing mine for me.”

“Is that A’s shirt?” “Yes. What about it?” “…Does A know you have their shirt?” “Nope!”

They really only planned on the midnight rendezvous, not falling asleep afterwards, so A and B go get morning coffee together (they are both very grumpy but still enjoying each other’s company)

Inside jokes during sexy times bleed into their normal banter, leading to some questionable looks from their friends

A gets a little drunk and B expects them to slip up and expose their true relationship, but instead A is very wholesome and remains steadfast on their boundaries; B is so proud of them for this

B is desperately trying to get something off their mind, so A offers a distraction for the night… it’s Mario Kart and whoever loses owes the other a favor

Any of their plans to go out have to include wiggle room in case they get preoccupied (soon it’s not just B that’s always late to events)

While their friends are occupied in another room, A and B intertwine their bodies and try to stay quiet—key word here is TRY

“I bet A would really like [insert kink here]…” “Nah, they’re not really into that.” “How the fuck do you know that?”

All their friends take the BDSM test as a joke and A and B secretly take notes on what the other person likes/dislikes to make the benefits side better

If given the choice, A will always pick the seat next to B so they can tease them under the table

During a passionate session, A accidentally draws blood while gripping B’s back (A apologizes over and over while tending to B, who just has a shit-eating grin the whole time)

Whenever B cracks yet another terrible joke, A has to refrain from kissing it off their face

A and B take a break from the benefits whenever one of them wants to pursue someone else (your characters can have healthy boundaries and communication!!! I am BEGGING y’all to write characters that actually communicate with each other)

[heartfullofleeches]

I want to teach Carnis that normal foods can be sweet too like they likes. I bet they ate a lot of oatmeal back in the facility but those monsters probably gave it to him plain and boring and bland.

I make a MEAN bowl of oatmeal. I would add cinnamon and nutmeg, liberally sprinkle brown sugar, and add some honey drizzle on top. Maybe I should cut some apples up in there too, they like fruit.

I just imagine it being the early days and he gets nervous when I serve him the bowl because he's used to being treated badly but I gently encourage him to try it and he eats like 3 bowls.

Yan Lab Experiment Drabble

The last thing Carnis wanted was to come off as ungrateful.

The debts they owed you could never be paid in full. Their freedom was one thing, but finding a purpose for themselves is what gave their sheltered life new meaning. You gave them that purpose. Carnis longs for the day he'll understand the outside world the same way you do. Until then, the experiences you hand pick for him are more than they could ask for or repay from anyone.

Carnis would follow you through every bump and hurdle. Regardless of their blind faith in you, they didn't know if you could guide them through this.

"I r...remember...this stuff."

They always hated it. On top of tests and questions, Carnis dreaded mornings for the very meal placed in front of them. It was like stuffed wet paper into their mouth- Near tasteless, plain, some days they weren't even given the luxury of having it warm.

Yours, on the other hand- Could the two be placed in the same category?

For starters, yours was thicker than they recalled. If their memory served them correctly, the right word to use for the texture of your oatmeal was creamy. The smell was.. undefinable. The warm scent of cinnamon spliced with the soft, sweet aroma of honey. Carnis was lucky to receive a sugar packet or two from the kind doctor who took pity on them. Coupled with the fresh chunks of fruit you topped with oatmeal off with it was like breakfast and a snack in one.

Carnis stirs awkwardly in his chair; hunger digging at the walls of their stomach yet their hands lay in their lap - fingers picking at the skin of their palm. The oatmeal looked good. Smelt good too. They wanted to appreciate all your hard work, but after so many years of eating the same slop - their eyes lacked the appetite their stomach was cursed with.

"Ah!"

Their spine shoots straight as an arrow as hands rest gently between their shoulder blades. Sensing their distress, you massage at the center point of the tension in their back, mindful of their sensitivity to touch.

"I know what you're probably thinking. I didn't think it looked the most appetiting when I first tried it, but one bite and I was in love. It's one of my favorites to eat now-"

"Favorite?... Favorite..." If someone as kind as you likes it as much as you claim, surely it can't be that bad...

Carnis tentatively wields their spoon, brushing the chunks of apple off to the side as they dig in. If they really weren't a fan, surely eating some part of it would still make you happy, right? They bring the spoon closer to their mouth, tensing as the metal clinks against their teeth. The hybrid steels their nerves and the tremors of their hand - shutting their eyes tightly as they take a bite.

...

"You did really well today... Carnis... I brought you something new to try. Keep it a secret between me and you, alright? I'll tell you what it is when you're older."

Sweetness. Their first taste of it can after one of the worst experiences they had in the lab. He couldn't feel his legs for days- Had they not been able to see them, Carnis would've believed they had been cut off for good. A sugar cube was granted to them for all their suffering- And it was worth it.

Carnis didn't know what they did to deserve this.

The spoon is swiftly discarded. Carnis picks up the bowl with both hands, switching to one as the oatmeal pours into their mouth too slowly for their liking. Using their fingers, Carnis inhales every oat - Their feast cut short by a small chunk of apple catching in their throat.

"Carnis!" As the cow coughs, you quickly lift the untouched glass of milk on the table to their lips for them to drink. "Slow down- It's not gonna run away from you."

Carnis barely seems fazed by nearly choking themselves on a slice of fruit.

"M...more? Please? I'd like more. I-if it's not too much trouble."

Desperate hands cling onto the hem of your shirt. You wipe stray tears from his eye as he begs. "There's a whole pot on the stove- You can have as much as you want."

"Y..you... Can.. can you teach me? How to.. make it? Oatmeal...and other goods food- I wanna make things for you.. too... I want you to be.. be happy too...."

[ruthlessrps]

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐘'𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 (𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟕) 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. - feel free to make any adjustments as necessary!

"what is the measure of a true hero?"

"will you listen to him?"

"lighten up, dude."

"i'll take it from here, darling."

"it was a nasty place."

"behave yourself."

"look how cute he is."

"he's strong. like his dad."

"keep those away from the baby."

"let the kid have a little fun."

"is this an audience or a mosaic?"

"there's the little sunspot."

"i regrettably have a full time gig."

"you'll work yourself to death."

"i know you know."

"did you cut your hair or something? you look fabulous."

"my fate is in your lovely hands."

"okay, fine, fine. i'm cool, i'm fine."

"how do you kill a god?"

"perhaps they've answered our prayers."

"that boy is a menace."

"he's too dangerous to be around normal people."

"he didn't mean any harm. he's just a kid."

"i'm warning you. keep that freak away from here."

"you shouldn't let those things they said back there get to you."

"i try to fit in, i just can't."

"i feel like i really don't belong here."

"i have often dreamed of a far-off place."

"this is where i'm meant to be."

"i know every mile will be worth my while."

"i would go almost anywhere to feel like i belong."

"it's the symbol of the gods."

"you're old enough now to know the truth."

"how do you become a true hero?"

"i will please the gods."

"you sure this is the right place?"

"haven't you ever had a dream?"

"come inside. i want to show you something."

"every single one of those bums let me down."

"dreams are for rookies."

"i'm different from those other guys."

"i'm too old to get mixed up in this stuff again."

"i'm down to one last hope."

"you're not exactly a dream come true."

"you'll have to do."

"now that's more like it!"

"you want a road test? saddle up, kid."

"not so fast, sweetheart."

"i'm a damsel, i'm in distress, i can handle this."

"what are you doing? get your sword."

"a hero's only as good as his weapon."

"is wonderboy here for real?"

"at least i beat him, didn't i?"

"did they give you a name along with all those rippling pectorals?"

"are you always this articulate?"

"who are you calling a rodent?"

"he comes on with his innocent farm boy routine, but i can see through that in a new york minute."

"people here are nuts because they live in a city of turmoil."

"it seems to me that what you folks need is a hero."

"i have this terrible fear of heights."

"try to be a little bit more careful next time."

"i don't think we covered this one in basic training."

"you gotta admit - that was pretty heroic."

"he was so hot steam looked cool."

"everybody's got a weakness."

"there is nothing you can't do."

"it's great to see you. i missed you."

"you sound like you could use a break."

"i didn't know playing hooky could be so much fun."

"wonderboy, you are perfect."

"when i was a kid i would've given anything to be exactly like everybody else."

"you're the most amazing person i've ever met."

"when i'm with you i don't feel so alone."

"i would never ever hurt you."

"let's both do ourselves a favour and stop this."

"that's it. next time, i drive."

"no man is worth the aggravation."

"get yourself another girl. i'm through."

"i can't believe you're getting so worked up about some guy."

"people are gonna get hurt, aren't they?"

"now you know how it feels to be just like everyone else."

"i know what i did was wrong, but this isn't about me."

"if you don't help him now, he'll die."

"people always do crazy things when they're in love."

[alfredosauce50]

Parent headcanons: Alfred, Allen, Matt, & Mathias

When it comes to the trials of adulthood, they have their own ways of getting on top. But parenting is what really puts them to the test. Starting a family and being one of the sole carers for another person will shine a light on the best and worst parts of them.

The big news

Alfred

He has the most normal reaction out of the four. Panic, acceptance, then excitement, he’s finally moving onto the final stages of adulthood and achieving his lifelong dream. Being a suburban dad and getting that white picket fence. It’s not just about liking kids, Alfred is rather traditional when it comes to his values; he has always romanticized the American dream. He already has a good job, all he needs is to make it happen.

“Fuuuuuck,” He whispers, eyes wide as he rakes his hands through his hair. He stands there for a few minutes, staring into space as you watch him tensely for his reaction. “We’re ready to be parents, right?”

Allen

He will freak out. Planned or unplanned, he’s not mentally prepared to be a father. He doesn’t think he’s good enough, but knows deep down he has to be. That’s what really scares him. If he needs to improve himself, it’s now or never. So after a week of panicking and catastrophizing, he’s ready to give himself a second chance — even if it’s for someone else. But his selflessness is key to his perseverance, and eventual success.

“I fucked up,” He squeezes you like a lifeline. It was the only conclusion he could come to after hours of talking about it, the only thing he could ever truly understand. “I fucked up. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Mathias

He’ll be over the moon. He’s gonna be even more excited than you, but that’s kinda given when he doesn’t have to carry the baby and deliver it. Point is, Mathias is very family-oriented, so don’t expect anything less. He’s the most self-affirmed a person can be too, so he’s always ready to move onto the next stage in life. His nurturing character and openness to change will help you immensely in periods of stress and uncertainty.

“I’m so happy that I could cry,” He whispers with his head on your tummy. He’s half-awake after burning out from his own excitement, but his spirit is still in the right place. “We’re finally gonna have a family.”

Matt

Letting you into his life was already a miracle, and now he’s gonna be a dad? This is a human being that he’ll have to be responsible for, not something he can simply tap out of and run away from. Matt is driven by his interests, solitude, and above all else, his freedom. A baby would take away all of those things, and he’s so troubled by it that he disappears for a few weeks. He comes home to a slap, but it’s well-deserved.

“Are you gonna keep hitting me, or are you gonna let me go to my shed?” He sighs, closing his eyes as you keep wailing on him. And he just takes it, absorbing every strike that was your burning love for him.

“Why, so you can keep—” You shove him harshly so that he actually stumbles back. “—hiding from me?”

“No, I’m gonna build a crib and make some toys.”

Parenting style

Alfred

He’s everything you’d expect from a new parent. Freaking out over the little things, screaming when they do something new, burning out after weeks of sleep deprivation, etc. He isn’t perfect, and you’re gonna have to work with him like any other partner, but before you know it, the house is filled with photo frames. He’s your best friend, and sometimes before your partner, so he has a hard time giving and taking. But it’s also why you two will stick together through thick and thin.

Alfred eventually evolves into the archetype of fathers. He takes the backseat and tells his kids, ‘I don’t know, go ask your mother,’ or even gets in trouble for doing stupid things like leaving the toilet seat up. When you just finished yelling at the kids, he comes to them later and goes, ‘someone’s in a bad mood today,’ when he’s just glad it wasn’t him. But when it’s something really serious, he flips like a switch and takes the lead. When that happens, there’s no talking him down.

“Alright gang, ready to get the show on the road?” Alfred rubs his hands together excitedly before he starts the car. “When we get there, I want everyone to be on their best behavior. I’m already on thin ice.”

He has high expectations for his kids. Ever since they popped out, he’s been giving them the best of the best, like nice clothes, family trips, sports leagues, and dance. He also wants them to go to a prestigious university in the future and to do all the things he might have missed out on. Cue the ‘that’s your dream, not mine, dad!’ Alfred can be hard on his children when it comes to success, so you need to remind him they’ve got minds of their own and are not carbon copies of him.

He says he prefers sons until he gets a daughter. Alfred is an absolute sweetheart to his girls, and is way more lenient with them than his boys. He doesn’t mean to play favorites, but it’s just how he’s wired. However, it also means being quite strict and protective when they get to that age. No drinking and no sleepovers with boys present. Men are all animals according to him. But dad, aren’t you a man? Exactly! He’s the pioneer of ‘anything you do to my daughter, I do to you.’

Allen

He tried his absolute best to prepare, but it starts off a disaster. What can go wrong will go wrong. The baby gets sick, you’re away on urgent family business, so he needs to do it all without you. Allen stays in hospital with the baby overnight, and slowly, but surely, they get better. He ends up neglecting himself to put his child’s needs first, and by the time you get back, he’s burning up with a fever. But the baby is perfectly content and sleeping soundly in the crib because of him.

He wants the best for his family, even if it means sacrificing everything he has. He understands his limits, but there’s nothing he won’t do to make sure his kid gets every opportunity he never had. Sports, college, you name it. If everybody in class has branded sneakers, he’ll buy a pair just so they don’t feel left out. He’s always proud of his baby, and if anybody tried to bully them, they’ll have to answer to him. Allen sees the best of him in his child, but usually fails to see it in himself.

“You can have my egg. I’m not hungry, baby.” Allen says, sliding his plate to his little girl. He knows that you won’t be back with the groceries for an hour or so, and no kids are going hungry on his watch.

Allen doesn’t think there’s a particular way of parenting because no one child is the same. So long as they do their homework, get out under the sun, and have a good attitude, the rest is to be decided. If his child needs extra support, he’ll give it to them, and if they need a reality check, he’ll give that to them too. He reminds them how hard life can be without stability, so they should take their future seriously, but at the same time, he’s always gonna be there to give them a home.

Nobody would mess with his kids after one look at him. He’s an ex-marine without the ‘ex.’ His daughter will have trouble finding a boyfriend to begin with because of him, and when she finally does, they’re gonna have to gain his respect to be trusted with looking after his little girl. If his son ever gets into a fight, he’ll ask if he won then whoop his ass later. And in the principle’s office, he’s giving the other kid the worst stink-eye ever. He’s the dad that could beat up the other dads.

Mathias

He’s a total natural; all is well when the baby is in his care. He may be all over the place, but when he really cares about something, he’s in a constant state of hyper focus. The baby will always be clean, well-fed, and happy, so don’t worry about a thing. There’s also no such thing as 50/50 with Mathias. He knows that there will be times when one person has to take the lead. It’s not in his nature to keep track of who’s giving and taking the most. He’s too mature for that.

It’s like experiencing a second childhood for him. Reading picture books, fairytales, playing with legos, or going to places he went to as a kid, he treats parenthood as a chance to relive his best memories and love every second of it. He will never miss a parent event, performance, and appointment. His dedication makes him very perceptive of his child, so he always knows what to do or say to cheer them up. As they grow up, they maintain a very close relationship to him.

“We wanna go to Legoland!”

“You mean, you wanna go to Legoland,” You laugh at him, “I heard you talking to Bjorn about it last night.”

“That’s so he can make an informed decision, of course,” Mathias grins, not showing a hint of shame as he shuffles over with his phone on the home page of the Legoland site. “So I take that it’s decided?”

He’s a great parent, but he’s by no means strict. All he wants is for them to have a fighting chance in the world, like doing a job that they enjoy. He’s great at communicating with his kids and has a lot of compassion, which takes them a long way. He’s never had to discipline them besides setting boundaries and occasionally grounding them. You rule the home with a firmer hand, and maybe that’s why your kids respect you more but treat him more like a friend than a parent sometimes.

Mathias doesn’t bat an eye when his kids first start dating. He’s always been quite liberal, so he just tells them to be careful about the birds and the bees, then to talk to him if things get testy. The one thing he’ll do is to ensure they have high standards. Love is life’s reward, not something to cry yourself to sleep about. Eventually, he’ll invite their date over for dinner, and as it turns out, he’d be a great father in law. He’s very welcoming and treats any future Densens like one of his own.

Matt

He’s a trial-by-error, improvise as you go along kinda dad. He hasn’t put much thought into the trials of childcare, but he always works things out in his own way. If the bub keeps crying because they don’t want to be bottle-fed by him, he will cover his face with a picture of you. Easy-peasy. If they’re crawling around the bed, he will use them as a mousepad as he scrolls on his laptop. That way, he gets some leisure time while making sure they don’t actually go anywhere.

Matt is the opposite to a helicopter parent. When his kid trips and face plants into the ground, he doesn’t react. The trick is to not acknowledge it, because only then will they cry. He isn’t afraid to let them explore the world and gain their own agency. It’s good for them, he says. Some part of you thinks he just wants them to grow up quicker so he doesn’t have to take care of them anymore, but there’s always those special little moments.

“How about I teach you how to drive the truck?” Matt asks, walking back home with the family.

“He’s eleven.” You remark.

“Is that a problem?”

He’s all about the family business. If his children don’t want to go fishing and logging with him, fine, but if they show even the slightest bit of interest, he’s bought. Matt will be more than eager to show them the ropes. He takes them on camping trips to show them the beauty of the great outdoors, and the humility it takes to be apart of it. The art of it all is there’s no problem that can’t be solved, and even a rugged man like him can be domesticated by the right person.

If his daughter got a boyfriend, he’d be waiting at home with a shotgun. Matt will then play it off like he just got back from a hunting trip. He’s the type to use silent intimidation, and it works like a charm. If not, he’ll tell jerks to get off his lawn even though he doesn’t have one, and when they ask what lawn, he’ll just say “all of it.” What he means is to get out of his sight and the woods, which is the lawn he’s talking about. (Ha!) On the flip side, he’s nice to girls his son brings home.

Losing the spark

Alfred

He has a tendency to let himself go when he gets comfortable. This usually happens when his first kid reaches their teenage years and he can afford to sit back now that they can do their own thing. He’s established a stable family unit, but he takes that for granted and gets a little lazy. As a result, he packs on a few pounds and tries less in the relationship. He’s not as attractive as he used to be, and you’re having more petty arguments.

“Why do I feel like you hate me?” He watches you mop the kitchen after you told him to do it. Only he delayed it to sit around on his phone and eat crisps. Even then, he still has the nerve to be upset about it.

“I don’t hate you, I’m just annoyed at you.”

“But you’re annoyed with me everyday.”

Allen

Losing the spark? Not on his watch! He never stops trying, ever, and keeps chasing you like when he first started dating you. His stability doesn’t come from money, it comes from you. You’re his rock, and nothing else matters so long as you’re here. He’s the epitome of ‘you know how daddy is about mommy,’ and he’s proud of it. He also takes great care of his body, and with his good genes, he practically ages backwards.

“You better wear that button-down shirt tonight, Al. A tank top isn’t gonna cut it,” You tell him.

“You callin’ me a deadbeat?” He questions.

“No, but you dress like one.”

“I thought you liked my clothes, babe.”

“I do, but the teachers won’t.”

“True that.” He fixes his collar in front of a mirror. He peers at his reflection, marveling at how well he cleaned up. A dress shirt and belt? He’s practically unrecognizable — until he grins, that is. “Still got it.”

Mathias

He’s always gonna be young at heart, so his spirit never dies. His love for you is as constant as a river, and he’s not afraid of putting on a show for the kids to the point they get a little disgusted. (Ew!) He doesn’t think he’d ever be too old for romance, and his good faith shows up in how gracefully he ages. He might occasionally grow out a thick beard, and when he shaves it off, he looks devastating close to when he was younger.

“Are we ever gonna be alone again?” He mumbles, pouting. His thirtieth birthday is coming up, but he hasn’t changed a bit, save for the more pronounced smile lines around his mouth. “I need some love too.”

“We will, Mat. I just don’t feel comfortable leaving the baby alone right now,” You shake your head.

“We could call Amy and have a date night.”

“I don’t know, Mat.”

“I’ll shave off my beard.”

“Huh?”

“You wouldn’t say no to me without a beard.”

Matt

The longer he’s with you, the harder he loves. His feelings don’t change when things get hard, or as time passes. They just get stronger. In that same breath, he also ages like wine. In the end, he ends up being the bigger romantic. He used to be a lone wolf, and he thought he was okay with it, but now that he has you, he can’t imagine his life without you. To think you actually stuck around and gave him a chance, he’ll never forget that.

“Wanna go back inside and do it?” He mutters.

“You’re disgusting, Matt.” You walk inside without sparing him a single glance. No matter how old he gets, he’ll always have a mouth on him. No matter how old you get, you’ll always forgive him for it.

“Is that a no?”

“Make me dinner and let me think about it.”

“Deal.”

[heissenn]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 hsr fem! characters x fem!reader a sneak peak of what its like dating your favorite hsr character. includes: himeko, serval, seele, stelle, bronya, march 7th, ruan mei, herta, robin tags: tooth-aching fluff, smut on robin's part

himeko

being in a relationship with himeko means being in a relationship with coffee. her caffeine addiction would lead to both of you going on coffee dates. although she would never force you to like coffee if you don’t prefer it. these ‘coffee dates’ just consists of her drinking her exquisite blend while you sip the beverage of your preference, whether it be tea or juice or even alcohol. the important part is that you both enjoy a relaxing time together.

as your relationship grow, these ‘coffee dates’ evolved into a ritual to go to cafes or bars to every planet you go to. there’s always a glimmer in her golden eyes that makes you wonder if she came to this planet to taste test rather than exploring it. himeko tries to hide it but she always looks like a little kid given a new toy every time her taste buds come across something new and himeko would never stop until she tasted all the coffee beans and coffee blends the planet has to offer, not forgetting to buy a bulk to stock in the express.

“darling, how about this? roasted beef and curry frappe. maybe this tickles your fancy?” himeko reads the obnoxious name aloud as she hand you the cup graciously. just the name makes you want to shake your head in refusal but himeko’s sweet smile brainwashes you into nodding your head.

you take a sip from the cup and it took you your everything to school your features. there’s a bubbling at the pit of your stomach and you have an inkling that its not the usual butterflies himeko gives you. “it’s amazing, love. i’m sure the others would want a cup.” you say imagining the others' reaction.

serval

serval would prefer dates that are a bit more hands-on. she would take a page from lynx’s book and take you out on a camping date to watch the aurora. it's been long since she went camping but the knowledge from when she was serving in the army still remains in her.

but instead of preparing the camping materials beforehand, she’d be the type to just go with the flow. she’d bring a few essentials and the rest will be decided along you go and with serval’s quick thinking. the camping goes smoothly for the most part aside from some hiccups like monsters and serval burning the food.

she’d bring her guitar along too, of course. she’d play for you with the aurora as witness and the hearth of the camp fire embracing the both of you with warmth.

“the view looks amazing here, serval. thank you for taking me here,” you look up at the countless streaks of emerald painting the sky. “yes, it’s breathtaking,” serval mutters in reply and you turn towards her to see her blue eyes already on you. she smiles at you before standing up and going inside the tent, leaving you confused. she comes back with her guitar.

“i know this is cheesy but i thought it wouldn’t hurt being romantic from time to time,” she plops downs and gives the acoustic a few strums. “i dedicate this song to you, my love.”

bronya

as the supreme guardian, she is always swamped with work thus there are only a few times when she goes outside. this also means that dates between the two of you are rare if you don’t count eating meals with her.

she can’t really take you on movies like normal couples because it would take the whole facility to be rented out and bronya’s nice enough to think about the other civilians whose plans might be ruined because of her personal endeavors. the times that she is able to go outside, she takes you for a walk in the gardens. you both walk down the flower path, talking about anything and everything. both of your hands are intertwined as the both of you admired all the kinds of plants that managed to withstand belobogs harsh climates.

at the end of the path awaits a picnic she readied herself, she insists that she should be the one to prepare without any help from the servants to add her personal touch. the act of preparing sandwiches and picking the right blanket has special value to bronya since she can’t be there for you to do acts of service most of the time.

after your appetite is satiated, both of you lay down to admire the sky. bronya falls asleep besides you peacefully, even sleep is a luxury the supreme guardian can’t afford nowadays so you’re glad to see her rest. you press a kiss to her forehead as bronya forgets the worries of the planet and the responsibilities of a huge title.

“peanut butter and jelly, check. grilled cheese, check. orange juice, check. apple juice, check.” bronya mutters as she goes through the menu she prepared for the third time. it’s not as grandiose as one would think when dating the supreme guardian but she prepared a little bit of each, to say the least, to make up for the simplicity.

she heard footsteps from behind and saw you approaching. she wipes her sweaty hands on her skirt, your relationship has been going on for quite a while but still you never fail to make her nervous. “sorry. i hope i didn’t make miss supreme guardian wait for too long,” you smile at her and bronya’s heart soars. “you’re just in time,” she pats the spot beside her. you sit beside her not before raising your eyebrows at the plethora of food baskets laid in front of you.

“bronya, you didn’t have to prepare all of this,” you were touched to find the amount of effort your girlfriend put. “this is the least i could do. i’ve been neglecting my duties to you, allow me to make up for it,” she takes your hands and kiss the back of it, a gesture she couldn’t do in public.

stelle

the perfect bonding time for stelle is rummaging through trash cans together but since not everyone can appreciate the art of opening trash cans she’s fine with something similar. that’s how most of your dates are: going to junk shops or thrift stores. she like going over all the trinkets even if the item doesn’t have any particular use or is unable to operate anymore. she’s more interested in the history: how it was made and how it ended up there.

i feel like she’s also interested with unopened safes or treasure boxes and she’d buy them just so you can both guess what’s inside and opening them together. think of blind boxes they sell online. then you’ll make up wild stories of the items.

she’s probably friends with the owners and the staff. everytime both of you go somewhere new you’d both make it a point to go to the local junk shop. it helps both of you to learn about the lifestyle and culture of the planet.

you probably have a pile of random things that stelle found in your room. most of the time they remind her of you something like “this toothbrush made me think of that one time you washed the sink” or somthing. the item doesn’t really correlate with the memory but its more than enough to prove her unconditional love for you

you hear a knock on your door and you open it to find your girlfriend beaming at you while holding up two trash bags. “look what i got, babe!” she smiles at you proudly. “that’s great, stelle! i’ll go prepare a bath,” you say as you automatically head towards the bathroom, you were used to this. “nuhuh, where do you think you’re going?” stelle drops the reeking trash on your bedroom floor and snakes her hands around your waist to pull you close to her.“

we’re not going anywhere until i get my kiss,” she blinks her eyes at you like a cute puppy and you sigh before grabbing her sides of her face for a passionate kiss. she hums against your lips as the weight of her body crushes you. you both pull away breathless only for her to pout at you like a kicked puppy, “one more."

seele

seele may not admit it but she likes hanging out with kids. she says they annoy her and the only reason she’s with them is because she doesn’t want them causing headaches to natasha, who already has a lot on her plate. sometimes she says there is nothing to do anymore ever since the underworld and the overworld has been bridged and most of her former work is being handled by the silvermane forces.

but you know better, you never miss her little scowl every time she doesn’t find where the kids are hiding or hear her small grumbles when they ask her to go around town to find scraps for their play house. but you also don’t miss how she looks at them with the fondest eyes paired with softest smiles.

and if there is one thing she loves as much as she loves playing kids that would be seeing you play with them. you see it evident every time you catch her eyes while you lift the kids up in the air or pat them in the head or let them ride you back. and seeing you and the kids smile reminds her of why she joined wildfire in the first place, to protect these priceless smiles. she looks at the scene and suddenly she’s thinking about ways on how she can ask if you wanted to build a family with her. a family she could give the love she had that she wasn’t privileged to when she was growing up.

seele’s hands trace the back of your palm as you both lay in bed. you recognize it as the behavior she does when she wants to tell you something but couldn’t. so you switch from your position of laying flat on your back to face her fully to let her know your attention is on hers fully. she heaves a sigh, squirm and squeeze your hand in a series of fast motion and before you can react she’d already open her mouth.

“someday, it doesn't have to be right now, . it doesn't have to be anytime even, if you don't want to," seele starts and her eyes fly around the room. you rest your hand on her cheek and caress it.

another sigh escapes her. "someday, would you like to have a family with me?” seele asks and there’s hopeful tone in her voice that makes you swoon. “if that’s what you want, yes,” seele replies almost instantly. “no, i’m asking you.” and you response without missing a beat as well. “yes, i'd love to have kids with you, seele.” you say as you stroke her features and seele feels her eyes become wet at your words.

march 7th

it goes without saying that march likes taking pictures. and her favorite subject is you. there is a whole album of you in her phone that contains so much pictures she needed to buy several memory cards. she likes taking pictures in bursts so there are a lot of similar photos but she never deletes them even if the difference is a centimeter change in angles, she argues that each photo is precious.

she picks out the ones she likes best to print out and put in her scrapbook album. she spends hours on picking the right one and there are countless times where she has to resist the strong urge to just print everything. she writes the date of when it was taken and some notes (more like whole paragraphs expressing her love) to commemorate what you did that day. she decorates them with things that reminds her of that day. for example, she would take a picture of you with a flower crown and the page is decorated with the petals from the same flower. below that is a little message of what the flower meant and how it suited you.

when she is finished she gifts them to you on your anniversaries. and when you’re away or she has to go on expeditions, she definitely brings it with her to browse through when she misses you.

march delicately flips through the pages, caressing the photos, the colorful letters and the little stickers she vividly remembers putting there. “i can’t wait to see you again,” you can hear the pout in her voice through the phone. “give me lots of kisses when i come back?” she hates being away with you but the photo books make it a little more bearable.

“of course, as many as you want,” you say on the other side as you look through your own copy of photo book. a pile of them from when march gifted then to you on your anniversaries or when she felt like it. “or maybe you’d prefer something more than that?” you add suggestively. march turns bright pink and looks at a particular black leather bound photo book.

ruan mei

ruan mei can get a little occupied with her research to the point that she ignores her well-being and sometimes you just have to remind her that she hasn’t ascended to aeonhood yet and her body is still human with human needs and human boundaries.

she is not used to having other people care for her so the concept of it is relatively new. she was definitely surprised when you come to her lab with some snacks or some tea. and the thing with her is that, at first, she thought it was hindering her progress. maybe it’ll take a fight for her to actually realize she’s taking it for granted and apologize with feeding you with sweet treats, made by her of course. on the other hand, you learn to differentiate the time where you should step in or not over time.

however, ruan mei would grow too accustomed to your presence in her lab and would actually starting want you there more and more. before she can even realize, she’s putting more hours in her studies just so she can see you barging in with your cute frown, becoming slowly addicted to the warmth she feels every time she receives your care.

“i’m just gonna leave it here,” you say as you gently place the tray of cheesecake and orange juice on the unused table. “take a five, babe. the cheesecake wouldn’t be as delicious if you leave it for too long,” you give her a peck on her forehead and the scientist leans to your touch a little more so she can feel your lips better while her eyes scan through papers.

you turn to head towards the door and take your leave but a cold hand catches your wrist before you could move further away from her. “stay,” her tone was more commanding than pleading and her eyes are still trained on the words in front of her. but you knew she wasn’t reading it anymore. her hand goes to the nearest chair to pull it beside her but her hands paused suddenly. her palms hovers in the air for a second before she retracts it and pats her lap. you raise your eyebrows in amusement but indulge her nevertheless. after all, who were you to refuse.

herta

even in your relationship, the great herta is a bit too prideful for her own good. that’s why she relies on her puppets to convey her emotions to you but even her puppets are emotionally constipated so there's not much of a difference. but it's herta so she still makes it work in her favor anyway. after all, she can just tell you its a ‘malfunction’. she makes them do her bidding such as keeping you company under the guise of ‘babysitting’ you or gifting you new technology that makes your life a tad bit easier which she likes to call ‘letting you test a prototype’ or giving you ‘leftovers’ that looks a little too fresh to be called one.

we’re talking about herta here so naturally she’s the first one to grow tired of the own arrangement she made. eventually, she feels her chest getting a little tighter every time she watches her puppets do acts of service for you doing you favors. she actually asks nous about the feeling and how to get rid of it. the aeon just laughs at her, saying ‘maybe you found your new research topic’. and the poor scientist just blinks at the higher being.

she’s a bit lost on how to overcome the feeling so she just pops up randomly throughout the day and stare at you because she doesn’t know what to do.

“she should go to the basement to find out what’s going on,” the puppet beside you comment as you both watch the horror movie playing on the large screen in front of you. you still don’t know how you roped her into this but here you were.

“what? no, that’s the worst thing you can do. that’s like the big no no in horror movies,” you argue as you look beside you to find that the small woman beside you is not a puppet anymore but rather the herta herself. you move back in surprise after a double take, “what are you doing here?” herta moves an inch closer. “it was my turn to babysit you,” the woman shrugs nonchalantly as her hand reaches for the popcorn on your lap.

robin

it’s only natural that the renowned singer dedicates songs to you and she does, there are countless songs and several albums singing her love for you. robin insists that no melody can truly convey how she feels for you but its the closest way of expression. she never release them for obvious reasons but there are some that are vaguely coded enough for the fans not to speculate that she releases. and her heart is full every time she sings her never ending emotions for you for the whole universe to hear.

but it doesn’t end there. no, robin is too much of a lowkey freak to keep things sfw. she has tracks, albums that recounts your nightly adventures with her. too explicit that anyone listening would probably have a heart attack hearing the sweet robin sing such filthy lyrics. she makes you listen to it in front her and she never tells you which kind of song it is because she enjoy seeing your face turn a shade of darker red with each beat.

oh and you best bet she incorporate your sounds as well, blending your moans and hers with the sound of vibrator over a slow, sultry beat mixed with her breathy voice that is a drastic change from her usual sweet, honey one.

“darling, you promised me you’d help me record a new song,” robin muses as she puts her hand over her mouth to giggle while her other hand curls inside you enough to hit that spongy spot. she reaches for the mic beside you and hovers above you. you watch her as she gives it a dirty lick and a kiss before putting the mic closer to your lips so your moans are transmitted to the speakers surrounding the studio room.

your amplified sounds echoed throughout the room and it drowns the sounds of your pussy squelching over robin’s fingers. “if you can last through two songs, i’ll give you a treat,” she sings in your ear.

[violetflowerswrites]

I’ll Be Here

Summary: After a traumatic injury, your SWAT roommate turned boyfriend (?) Jim Street strives to take care of you, and meet all of your needs.

Pairing: Jim Street x (Female) Reader

Disclaimer: Minor mentions of leg injury, meds, and recovery with wheelchair, casts, and crutches. Reader has a protective older sister. One scene of nightmares, mentions of trauma. Discussion of child abuse, drug use, drunkenness, in Street’s family history. Filthy Smut. Oral sex (female receiving). Consensual P in V sex. 18+ for explicit smut, and language

Word Count: 4.0k

A/N: I felt like there needed to be one more epilogue / ending to this Street x Roommate fic series. It picks up directly after the ending of Part Two (Taking it Slow). I got a little caught up fleshing out her backstory and recovery journey, but there’s a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, and quite a bit of smut. I added some details from Season 4, Ep 2 as well. It’s a slower paced story than what I normally like, but I still had a fun hell of time writing it. Enjoy!

Part One Here - “Too Complicated”

Part Two Here - “Taking It Slow”

Masterlist Here

…

The click of the door makes the two of you startle, and quickly.

“Commander Hicks is gonna put you on armory duty for a week for pulling a stunt like that.”

“Hey, Tan.” Street smiles at his teammate’s lack of greeting. Classic Tan — a bit of hard-ass, but always means well. “Hicks already chewed my ear off on the phone earlier.”

“Figured. I just wanted to come down, see how my friend’s sister was doing. I already briefed her on what happened. She’s on her way back from a case up in Burbank.”

“Thank you, Victor.” You breathe out a sigh of relief.

Victor Tan was co-workers with your older sister back from his days in LAPD’s Hollywood Vice division. When you decided to move to LA, she figured you being roommates with a SWAT officer was the safest place you could be.

But the world is a dangerous place, even if you live with Jim Street, LAPD SWAT.

Victor looks you up and down, noticing that besides being a little pale, and having a massive cast on your leg, you don’t seem to be in pain.

Then, he notices the way that Street is standing— body turned to yours, hand hovering on the bedside protectively, as if he wanted to hold your hand at any given moment.

“Hold on, don’t tell me you two are a thing now.”

A hot flush creeps up your skin and you and Street immediately stumble over your responses.

“We were trying to take it slow—“

“and not make things too complicated…”

“but then this happened so…”

“We don't really know what we are, but I do know that I am so so grateful for you Victor. You and Street helped save my life.”

You end your rush of words with a watery smile, emotion cracking your voice.

Tan looks down sheepishly, immediately trying to be casual about it.

“Nah, Y/N. It was the tourniquet you made that probably saved your life. You gave us a big scare today, but I am glad to see you’re okay.”

“That makes 3 of us.”

A petite, fierce-looking female cop stands in the doorway of the hospital room, her hand sweeping back some stray hairs that fell out of her tight bun in her rush to get to you.

…

Your bad-ass cop sister stays over for a week while you recover, watching Street like a hawk. You’re so hopped up on pain-killers that you barely notice the tension between them.

Street on the other hand, feels like he’s being evaluated in some test he didn’t train for. He couldn’t take time off, so he’s eager to see you whenever he gets home. But most of the time, your sister is hovering over you, helping you adjust to moving around in the wheelchair, and making sure you are eating your meals and taking all your meds correctly.

One late evening while you’re supposed to be sleeping, you overhear your sister confront him.

“So. When were you gonna tell me you’re fucking my sister?”

Street spits out the beer he just took a sip of. He’s barely exchanged more than a few sentences to your sister, and that was when she helped you move in a few months ago.

“Uh…”

“I see the way you look at her. I’m pretty sure I warned you that this arrangement was solely to keep her safe while living in this neighborhood. Didn’t expect you guys to fuck so quickly.”

Damn. Your sister is known to be blunt, but this is next level. You remembered how she reacted when your dick-head of a college ex-boyfriend broke your heart. He was sorry to have ever known you after that.

“About that…” Street starts, but gets cut off with a raised palm in his face.

“Before you say anything, I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen the way she looks at you. She hasn’t told me yet, but I know. She’s down bad for you, Street.”

You automatically pull your covers up in embarrassment, hearing your sister lay all your feelings out in the open like that. She’s right though, you’ve fallen hard for him and it’s not just because he saved your life a week ago.

It’s because he's an empathetic listener to your rants about work, LA traffic, anything.

It’s the way he notices the small things, like when you're stress baking, or when you have your shoulders hunched up in frustration at the kitchen counter.

It’s how he gently pries your closed off doors open, helping you heal from your past.

It’s how he loves you, in such a sweet, gentle way that only he can.

“So you have 2 days before I go back to Vice to show me that you can take care of her.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Well, I don’t want to, but we’re about to make a big drug bust and my team needs me. Y/N is strong. She can take care of herself, but I worry about her. Her surgery was intense, and it’s gonna be a long recovery. I was gonna have her live with me for a few months, but I don’t think she wants to be away from you.”

“Thank you.” Street lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. He may be a big bad SWAT officer, but your 5 foot nothing of a cop sister scared the shit out of him.

“Don’t thank me yet.”

…

That weekend, you get the full princess treatment from Street. He helps train your upper body strength to be able to lift yourself on and off your wheelchair. He takes you to the park to get some sun, and makes sure the entire house is wheelchair friendly so you can move around independently. He rearranges the fridge and pantry so that your favorite foods are all easily reachable from your lower height. He even meal-preps some home-cooked lunches to have while you go back to work on Monday.

Working with your sister, he re-arranges his schedule so he can drive you to the office in the morning and your sister can take you home.

On Sunday evening, you read out a long string of dates as Street writes all your upcoming appointments on the fridge-calendar and your sister says which ones she can take you to, and which ones she needs Street to help drive you.

“Well…fuck.” Your sister swears, which only happens when she’s particularly exasperated.

”What? What’s wrong?” You look up from your laptop with your Google calendar open.

“Y/N, I didn’t wanna admit it, but you got a good one here.”

An ear-splitting grin spreads across Street’s face as he realizes what she means.

You obviously told your sister that you overheard Friday night’s conversation, and all of what’s been going on between you and Street…minus the mind-blowing sex.

“He passed?” You ask eagerly, hopeful stars in your eyes.

“He never had to pass anything in the first place, Y/N. If you chose him, that’s all the approval I needed to know. I trust you. I was just giving him a hard time, because I love you.”

You burst out laughing while Street spits out a flabbergasted “The hell did I try so hard for?!”

“That’s what big sisters are for. Y/N deserves all the princess treatment she can get. We put our lives on the line every day, but she doesn’t normally have to. She’s gonna need you, Street.”

Street places a reassuring hand on your sisters’ shoulder.

“I’ll be here.”

…

Street lives up his promise, taking care of you through some of the worst physical and emotional pain you’ve ever been in.

He’s there at your physical therapy appointments, making sure you’re practicing the exercises at home even when you just want to lie down from exhaustion.

He’s there holding your hand even though you squeeze him until his fingers go numb. It hurts him to see your face contort with unexpected pain when the meds wear off and you try putting some weight on your leg for the first time in weeks.

He’s there when the trauma sets in. He notices when you’re on the couch in the evenings, the TV on, but you’re not really watching. He holds you tightly while you wake up in the middle of night crying, reliving the moment you almost died.

He’s there through it all.

…

“How do you deal with it?”

You’re sitting upright in bed, the soft yellow glow of the bedside lamp warming the darkness of the middle of the night.

“Deal with what?”

Street’s sitting next to you, holding your hand while your sweat-soaked forehead leans against his shoulder, your racing heartbeat finally slowing down.

Your breath draws in and out in a steady rhythm as you calm yourself from your latest nightmare with his comforting presence.

Street ran into your room when he heard you. That’s been the third night in a row that you’ve woken up to the sound of your own screaming.

“Deal with trauma. Not the physical pain, but those horrible moments that just keep flashing before your eyes every time you close them.”

“Well, I’ve been dealing with trauma my whole life I guess.”

Street has already talked to you about growing up in the foster system, because his dad was a drunk. You knew that his mom was in jail for killing him, but Street didn’t go into details. You knew as much as he hated talking about his past, he hated talking about his complicated relationship with his mom even more.

“Last week, we were surveilling a house, trying to get someone for the CIA, and I saw a kid. A little boy, covered in bruises on his back porch. He looked so alone, and so scared.”

“What happened?”

“I got into it with Hondo a bit, almost compromised the mission because I wanted to get him out of that abusive home.”

“Did you?”

“Yes. But it brought back a lot of memories, and none of them good.”

It was your turn to comfort Street as you could hear his breath come in shudders as he thought back to his rough childhood.

“Have I ever told you that my earliest memory of kindergarten was my mom putting makeup on my chin to cover up my dad’s crappy weekend?”

“No.” The word comes out in a saddened whisper. “You’ve never told me that one before.”

“Well, it’s not something that comes up in casual conversation. And I’ve tried a lot of things to make sure I never have to mention those moments.”

“What kinds of things?”

Street lets out a wry chuckle.

“What haven’t I tried? Drugs, alcohol. Thrill seeking. Street racing. Driving way past the speed limit.”

“You still do that one.”

Street laughs genuinely now. “Yeah, but not where I’ll get caught by cops.”

“You are a cop!”

He chuckles again, but quiets down into contemplative silence.

“For many years, I just poured myself into my job. Climbing the ladder until I could make something of myself. Run away as far as I could from that childhood me. The one with the drunk dad, jailed mom. The helpless foster kid.”

“It didn’t help, did it?”

“No. Not really.”

“Then, how did you heal?”

Street looks down at you now, his heart breaking to see tears streaming down your face. He’s certain those are empathetic tears, tears for his hardships. His rough childhood. Pangs of guilt wash over him.

He doesn’t deserve your tears.

Then, he sees the way you’re looking at him. The way you’re holding him in a bone-crushing embrace. Well, as tightly as you could possibly hold all of his heavily-muscled torso.

So, he sucks in a grounding breath and reminds himself that you’re crying because you care about him. Because you love him.

And it’s okay to accept your love.

Street caresses your cheek with a strong hand, and thumbs off a few of your tears.

“I’m still healing. But when those moments come, I’ve learned that it helps to talk about it.”

All those late-night bike rides down the California coastline could never truly help him escape from his problems.

He thinks back to all the people in his life who’ve helped him open up. Who’ve confronted him on his bullshit and made him stop running away.

Hondo and Buck.

Chris, Deacon, Tan, and Luca.

Even his ex-girlfriend, Molly Hicks.

As much as he hates to admit it, putting his trauma out in the open was better than keeping it in.

Your hand in his starts trembling and that small movement pulls him out of his thoughts.

“What if I’m not ready to talk yet?” You choke, as if you could barely get the words out.

“Then I’ll be here waiting until you are.”

…

Weeks pass in a whirlwind of work, doctors’ appointments, and recovery exercises at home. Eventually, the nightmares subside, and you start seeing a therapist to help you work through the trauma.

You graduate from the wheelchair and giant full-length cast to a bootie on your calf and ankle. The hardwood floor is littered with little dents from the first few days you learned to hobble around on crutches, but you get the hang of it quickly.

Both Street and your sister feel much more at ease leaving you at home alone, knowing that you can take care of yourself more easily now.

Except today.

Because your idiot brain put the crutches by the bathroom door instead of next to the towel rack.

And here you are, butt-naked in the shower, the floor wet and a slipping hazard, and 6 feet away from independence.

Just as you debate bear-crawling across the cold tile to grab your crutches, you hear the front door open and close.

“Street!” You call out.

Heavy footsteps rush over to the bathroom and skid to a stop as Street quickly leans his head against the door and asks urgently, “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine! I just left the crutches by the door and I can’t reach them. Can you help me get out of the shower?”

Street breathes out a sigh of relief. Ever since the accident, he finds himself panicking easily about any situation that has to do with you getting hurt.

“Of course. I’m coming in.”

You’ve managed to dry yourself off, wrap your body in a fluffy white towel, and sit on the edge of the tub.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Street how your damp hair clings to your skin, flushed from the hot water. Lavender-scented steam hits him in a rush as he opens the door, a familiar smell to him. You love lavender shampoo, soaps, lotions, candles, anything.

He scoops you up gently, trying not to think about the last time he carried you like this was when you were bloodied, unconscious, and barely alive.

A small moan draws him out of his head immediately.

Not a moan of pain.

A moan of lust.

What?

Street freezes and gently places you on the bathroom counter, carefully holding your injured leg against his hip.

His eyes dart across your flustered face as you realize just what kind of inadvertent sound escaped your lips as soon as you were in Street’s strong arms, and you inhaled the familiar leather of his bike jacket.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Street kisses you breathless and pulls your towel down, inhaling your damp skin and that damned lavender soap that is making him dizzy with lust.

Water drips from the ends of your hair down your body, and Street licks up the river trailing from your shoulder, down the swell of your breasts, all the way to your core.

He pulls you to the edge as he kneels down in front of you. Ever-conscious of your injury, he lifts your hurt leg onto his shoulder, which only serves to widen your thighs, giving him full access.

Your knuckles tighten against the counter and your moans bounce off the tiled walls the second he licks your dripping pussy.

Street is a master at oral and it’s been weeks since you’ve had the pleasure of being his pupil.

His tongue dives first into your center, stretching your hot, leaking core. Then his lips find your clit, sucking it in gently, until the nerve endings in the sensitive nub light your body up with pleasure.

Before you have a moment to recover, his fingers find your entrance and enter with ease. Your slick gushes out, dripping onto the towel as he thrusts two fingers in and out. His knuckles curl up, searching for the spongy spot that he knows will drive you absolutely wild.

Filthy sounds of wetness fill the bathroom as he eats you out and fingers your clenched center, once, twice, three times.

Before long, his moans mix with your own as you voice your pleasure, cumming on his face in moments.

“Keep going.”

Street freezes at the first words you’ve uttered since he kissed you. It was an impulse, a lack of self-control that got him to this point in the first place.

It was seeing you nearly naked, with that damned lavender filling his nostrils that drove him crazy.

But he was going to stop. It was enough to get you off.

”I’m not done yet, Street.” You demand arrogantly, and look pointedly at the hard erection pushing against his dark-blue jeans.

“But—“

“I’ll be fine. Just hold my leg up and fuck me.”

You pull him up by the collar of his leather jacket, and kiss him roughly, panting in his ear as you lick and suckle the skin of his cheek, his neck, the underside of his jaw.

It’s been too long since you’ve had his body, his touch, his cock. You crave him with a hunger you’ve never known before.

And now that you’ve had a taste, every cell in your being is vibrating with one simple word.

More.

Needing no other encouragement, Street strips off his jacket only for you to take it and pull it over your bare shoulders.

The sight of you, fully naked except for his jacket, makes him suck in a breath.

His eyes darken immediately and he can hear his heart beat in double time.

You make him go feral.

It takes no time at all for him to rid himself of his remaining clothing, and line himself up with your pink entrance.

“You’ll tell me if I’m hurting you?” Street asks, still hesitant, even as the pre-cum of his throbbing member mixes with your juices.

“Yes.” You affirm breathlessly, feeling the round tip of his hard cock start to breach your center.

“You’ll stop me if you can’t handle it?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure about this, Y/N?”

“Yes! Street, fill me with your cock already!”

He blushes at your filthy words, feeling the heel of your good leg dig into the small of his back, trying to draw him into your waiting core.

You finally feel him push through the tight circle of your center. You’re especially tight, having not had sex since the accident over a month ago.

Street lets out a growl as he feels your pussy gripping him, struggling to push in deeper.

But instead of pain, you only feel pleasure.

“Fuck—! That feels incredible. Go deeper, Street. Please!” You beg him, desperate for more.

He grabs your thighs, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he pulls you towards his pelvis. You can feel his cock thrust to the end, finally completely filling you with all of him.

You throw your arms around his waist, breathing heavily as the heady lavender steam only serves to make the two of you even more sex-drunk.

You hear Street suck in another deep breath before he pulls out, and slowly inches his way back into you, experimenting with how fast he should go.

How much you can handle.

But the slower pace feels heavenly to your hot, needy core. His cock stretches every part of you, pressing against your spongy center, all the way to your cervix as he thrusts down to the hilt once more.

”How’s that, Y/N? Does it hurt?” Street checks in with you again, a vein popping out of his neck as he strains to maintain his self-control. All his cock wants is to fuck you with total abandon, but he refuses to put himself first.

Your voice comes out in a stream of incoherent whimpers as you wordlessly express just how good it feels to be filled by him.

So Street cups the back of your ass, and presses you flush against him, and you cry out, feeling him impossibly deep inside.

“Oh my god! Street!”

“I’m just getting started.” He grins, licking the side of your neck as he starts to roll his hips into you.

You feel his cock slip out just a few inches only to thrust back in as far as it can go, over and over.

As you look down, you are blessed with the magnificent sight of Street’s abs clenching with every sensual roll of his body against yours.

Every slight motion pushes you to the brink of orgasm, your body almost unable to handle all the stimulation after having only known pain and discomfort for the past several weeks.

Impulsively, you bite down on Street’s shoulder, trying to expend all the pleasure you’re feeling somewhere else, muffling your moans against his muscled flesh.

“Shit! Are you biting me?” Street growls, incredulous, but also massively turned on.

“Does it hurt?” You grin mischievously, pulling his lower lip in between your teeth next.

“Yeah.”

“A good hurt, or bad hurt?”

“Good.” Another sharp inhale. “Fuck, I’m already close!”

Street’s body shudders as you feel his grip slide back to your hips, his slow thrusts giving way to a faster, more desperate rhythm.

You nibble and nip the side of his neck, the bottom of his ear, as you feel just how hot his skin is under your tongue and lips.

Another loud moan is wrenched from your throat as he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside you. His cock satisfies your body in a way you can’t describe.

You can’t wait any longer.

“Cum for me.” You whisper into his ear, demanding his obedience. His brow furrows as he tries to delay his incoming orgasm, and you kiss it, giggling as you watch him come undone by your body.

Street pushes his cock into you, your wetness making the movement easy, but your tightness gripping him like he is never supposed to separate from you again.

You lock your fingers behind the small of his back, pulling him in and clenching down until you feel his cock spurt out jets of hot cum into your core.

Street grits his teeth and heaves out the sexiest, most overstimulated moan you’ve ever heard from any man.

Your own orgasm follows right behind his, your entire being vibrating with pleasure, wetness repeatedly gushing around his cock. Your pussy stutters, muscles spasming as it tries to recover from the best sex you’ve ever had, with the biggest cock you’ve ever had.

With the most loving, caring man you’ve ever had. Your heart fills with love and contentment at the moment the two of you just shared.

This is what sex should be like - intimacy, pleasure, love.

It is truly something else.

“Y/N?” Street murmurs against your damp shoulder, slowly regaining some semblance of control and coherent thoughts.

“Mmm?”

“You know I love you, right?”

“I know.”

“I never want to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“I’ll always be here for you.”

You find the rough skin of his jaw and pry him off your body, and instead, pull his face towards you, your forehead pressing against his. As you lock eyes with the emotional gaze of your lover, you notice that he’s a little teary, and your heart melts for him even more. Jim Street. The love of your life.

“I know.”

…

[angel-of-the-moons]

Eccentricities

Yandere! Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, Dark Themes, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Yandere!Miguel is a warning on his own, spying, peeping, camera use, masturbation (m)

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Enjoy my brain rot I now infect you all I'm so sorry it took me so long to finish

Taglist: @vineberries9 @irmiki @autismsupermusicalassassin @obi-mom-kenobi @rin-matsuoka345-blog @loosecan @6thhokageswife @selarus @heyohalie @sapphire-and-ruby @night-spectrum @famouscattale @thespaceinbetweennothing @lazy-idate @toshimoshiko @saharadesertaj @flaps200 @amelialysm @fried-milkfish @zaunsin

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Pt. 1

You weren't sure if it was your luck, or your resume that landed you probably the easiest, most well-paying job you've ever worked. But man, were you glad whatever did get it, got it for you.

Little did you know, it was neither.

The truth is... your boss, Miguel O'Hara, noticed when you emailed it to him. Something about the pictures attached stirred something up inside him.

Maybe it was the soft, Mona Lisa-like smile in your photos, or maybe it was something else entirely. He himself didn't know it, the reason why you immediately piqued his interest.

Sure, he's hired female employees before, one or two housekeepers. They were always buxom girls looking for the whole "boss having sex with his hot maid" cliché. One even tried to trick him with a false pregnancy test, just for him to call her out with a body scan right then and there.

And yeah... he almost always wound up fucking them. But that was it. They were good, warm holes to fuck, that was all. Fuck them until he got bored with them, and toss them out; that's what he would do.

Hell, some of them weren't even good fucks... He'd had better sex from random women he brought home from clubs.

Thank god for non-disclosure contracts.

But you... He had a feeling you would last longer than all of them. There was something about you.

And whatever it was, when he met you for the first time in person in that tiny café, was absolutely intoxicating. Your scent, your voice, the way your eyelashes batted your cheeks, even the shy shuffle of one foot behind the other as you spoke with him.

He could already imagine himself splitting you open with his cock, right then and there. Making you gasp, and scream and writhe and beg him to show some mercy at how he would pummel that sweet little cunt of yours; showing everyone there that you now belonged to him.

But patience is a virtue, and good things come to those who wait.

And Miguel O'Hara always got what he wanted, in the end.

It was just a matter of waiting.

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"I just have to say that, I... It's very generous of you to offer me a room to stay in, Mr O'Hara." You say as he leads you down the hall.

"I really can't thank you enough."

He sucked in an imperceptible breath at your little smile and twinkling eyes as you rocked your head back to look up at him and meet his red-brown ones.

He flashed a smile, charming. His teeth were crooked in some places, but for some reason it put you a bit at ease. Despite his sheer size, Miguel looked... Normal. Drop dead gorgeous "normal", but still. It made him... more relatable to know someone like him wouldn't immediately run to a dentist to fix his teeth to project an image of perfection. That he wouldn't give in to vain appearances.

"Of course. You don't have to thank me at all." He said, leading you down the hall of his impossibly large house--no, mansion--to where you would be living.

"All my previous maids have been given their own spaces to live in, it's easier on them so they don't have to worry about arriving late, or paying for taxis or finding their own ways to work." He replied casually.

"Oh, actually, I'm curious about that. I haven't seen other staff around here, why is that?" You chirp innocently.

"Ah, well..." He said, giving a strained smile. He had to think of something. Fast. He couldn't possibly tell you the real reasons why. Maybe.

Yet.

"They simply didn't work out. Many of them didn't follow direction well and were constantly challenging my authority."

You frown, your brows furrowed. "Okay, arguing with your boss sounds kind of... Dumb."

"Indeed." He chuckled, his voice a deep timbre that you swear sent shivers right through your very bones.

"And as for why you are currently my own employee? Well. I do like my privacy." He tells you.

God, the smell of your perfume and the way your lips sparkled from that lip gloss...

"Ahem. Technically, the only other person you'll be seeing is Lyla."

"Lyla?" You echoed.

"Yes. She's my... assistant. Artificial intelligence. Don't let her snark fool you, she's not so bad once you get to know her." He smirked.

He could hear your pulse quicken whenever he smiled.

"Oh! An AI? I've... I've never actually met one. Like a literal one, not the ones they program into taxis..."

"No, she's far more sophisticated than that. Expertly programmed by me, smart... And of course there's the sense of humor, I don't know where she got that... But she won't bother you often." He assured you.

"Oh! Of course..."

"Now, here's your room." He gave you a grin over his shoulder as he reached for the control panel of the double doors. He could hear your heart pitter patter already.

The doors opened with a dramatic whoosh, and Miguel stepped aside for you to walk in.

He felt a smug sense of pride at your shock of the huge room he'd given you for your own personal space, and how you'd murmured that it was larger than your whole apartment.

Luxuriously furnished, it looked more like some kind of... Of ten-star hotel room or something!

The way your eyes sparkled and your mouth parted in a soft, excited smile. Everything about you had his heightened senses on alert, but not in a bad way.

You looked so soft. So delicious. Something about you made him want to devour you, bit by tiny bit.

"Mr. O'Hara, I... Oh I can't thank you enough! This is..."

"I'll leave you to it." He chuckled, giving a wave as he walked past you back out into the hall.

Pausing in the doorway, he gave you one last look.

"And you can call me Miguel... Pequeña ave."

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He simply couldn't wait and had to violently suppress the urge to drop to all fours and leap like an animal to his office and check the well-hidden, practically invisible cameras he had planted in your room and bathroom.

The moment he entered his office, he locked the door and turned Lyla's access to the room off to leave him to his privacy in case she called him.

Miguel felt a buzzing beneath his skin at the thought of what you could possibly do once you've fallen into a sense of safety and privacy, especially since he'd given you permission to have a few days to become acclimated to your new environment before you had to start work.

He sat on his chair and immediately opened up the files on his monitor, selecting the camera feeds until holograms of you at various angles were projected for him to see.

He watched intently as you unpacked your clothes, placing them in the large ornate dresser.

He already made a mental note to hire movers to bring the rest of your meager belongings to his house.

Yes. Yes.

You would stay.

For as long as he wanted you. And right now he could see himself wanting you for a very, very long time.

The moment you flopped on the bed, your breasts jiggling so beautifully to him, the cute look of surprise as you sunk so deep into the downy mattress before settling in with a relaxed groan that sounded so pornographic to his ears it sent blood rushing straight to his dick.

He leaned back, running his tongue over his fangs as he continued to watch you unwind and unpack, careful not to prick the sensitive muscle on the sharp bone.

He watched you pull a small black box out of one of your suitcases and hastily move to hide it beneath your clothes in your dresser.

Bottom row, far left side, all the way to the back. He made a mental note to inspect that drawer later.

Miguel leaned in towards the projections and tapped the one of you nearest to your new closet as you slipped your blouse off and down your shoulders, revealing your back and the straps of your bra.

The leather creaked under his weight as he shifted, switching the angle to the one directly above the closet, facing down, getting a full downward view of your breasts.

He groaned and reached down to palm at his cock that throbbed in his trousers, stroking the clothed flesh in languid motions, vein beating relentlessly along the length.

He let out a guttural groan when you bent over, slipping your shoes off and placing them on the rack within the closet.

He switched angles as you bent over again and pulled your pants off, revealing your cute ass peeking out from the cotton, cherry-print panties you wore.

He ripped his trousers down to his thighs and fisted his cock in his large hand. He was disappointed you didn't notice he went without boxers today, or maybe you had but were too shy to look.

You were putting on quite the show.

Surely, you couldn't be this naive, right? So innocent? You couldn't just believe some rich man would let you, a cute, sexy little thing live in his house without planting cameras in your room and bathroom?

You must know. You must simply know, and that is why you are sashaying your hips this way and that as you dump your clothes into the laundry bin and grab the vinyl bag containing your hygiene products.

He used his thumb to smear the stream of precum leaking viscously from the head of his cock, groaning as he switched the feed to your bathroom cameras.

He watched you place your pads and tampons in one of the drawers of the vanity, organize your oral hygiene products next to the sink. He studied each bottle of vitamins you placed, his eyes picking up the words "prenatal" on one.

He dropped his head back with a groan and rolled his hips, languidly stroking his dick as his eyes rolled back.

Prenatals. You weren't pregnant, he'd be able to smell it if you were. But already the thought of fucking you full of his cum played in his mind.

His head snapped up when he heard the shower turn on and he frantically switched the feed to the shower cam.

He watched and listened as you hummed a little song to yourself, giggling at the rainfall-like streams that filled the stall.

The way your lips parted and you made that little "oooh" sound had him wondering how you'd sound when he fucked you so hard your eyes crossed.

He began to pump his fist harder, the rivulets of precum giving him ample lubrication to stroke himself.

He ran a hand through his hair as he panted, watching you as you slowly slip your bra off and toss it to the floor, along with your panties.

His hand smashed the control after to change the camera to one that had a better angle of you.

He made a sound that was almost a whimper as you closed the stall door, stepping under the steamy water with a happy and content sigh.

Miguel bit at his bottom lip, fangs threatening to prick the plush skin.

Everything about you was cute and sexy, even that cute little patch of hair between your legs, cut into the shape of a heart.

The thought of lasering that hair off and replacing it with a permanent tattoo of his spider symbol... His own little brand...

He moaned loudly into the dark of his office, feeling his balls draw taut as his orgasm got closer.

Your hands lathered in shampoo, you started scrubbing your hair, your flesh jiggling deliciously as you rinse it out, nails scratching at your scalp.

He wondered what you'd do if he pulled your hair, what sounds you'd make.

He wondered how you'd do if he pulled your hair and made you choke on his cock.

"Mierda!" He hissed, pinching the base of his cock in an effort to stave off his orgasm.

Miguel continued to watch, giving himself teasing strokes as you conditioned your hair right after.

His fist pumped harder and faster when you began soaping up your hands to scrub your skin, cupping your breasts and brushing over your hard nipples.

His breathing was so fast he was practically hyperventilating, the tip of his cock leaking more and more, the length of it throbbing and twitching as you washed the soap off.

When you slipped your hands between your legs to clean yourself there, all Miguel could do was moan pornographically, grabbing at his balls and stroking his cock as he arched his hips off his chair, his thick ropes of cum painting his fingers and dripping down to his palm, splattering a part of his leg and the underside of his desk.

He dropped down, sighing as the buzz of his orgasm slowly faded.

He cut the feed to your room.

And in the dark, bright, ruby-red eyes opened and a fanged smile bloomed.

He was going to enjoy making you his.

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Pt. 2: Link

[bouncybongfairy]

was wondering if you could write a morty smith x reader where you both get high after studying together?

Study Date

Morty Smith x Fem Reader

Summary: Morty musters up the courage and asks you over for a study date. Who knew studying human biology could have such interactive hands on lessons.

Word Count: 1.5k

Ref Account: @kaionyx

TW: Smut, Fingering, Squirting, Nipple Play.

(Aged up)

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It was lunch and you were sitting at one of the tables in the quad. Your friends were fixing up their hair and make-up as they picked at their food. Talking shit about girls they either didn’t know and/or don’t like. The conversation was starting to shift, them talking about how Morty came up to you before class. He’d invited you to come over after school and study. A lot of your friends think he’s weird or odd. That was one of the things you liked most about him. Most guys tried acting all big and confident when trying to pursue you. Puffing their shoulders out and bragging about all the illegal activities they partake in. Morty was quite nervous when he spoke with you, like he was savoring every second he could be near you. Him being so flustered and shy made you feel flattered. 

“Are you really going to his house after school?” Trisha asked. 

“Yeah, why not?” you asked, stabbing at your salad. 

“I don’t know he’s just kinda… like strange?” she asked, which made the entire table laugh. 

“Not as strange as Brad going back and forth between you and Jessica like he’s test driving a car he might wanna buy. Even once he picks the one he wants, we all know he’ll run it into the ground,” you said, packing your lunch and bag. 

They were idiots and you didn’t appreciate the little jab towards Morty. You could tell that it took a lot of him to muster up the courage to talk to you. As someone who also struggled with shyness and social anxiety, it hurt you to see people poke fun at that. You ended up going home early, too worked up to go back to class. Even though you had nerves, that didn’t take away from how excited you were. There were two classes where you sat behind him, at times you wouldn’t pay attention to what was going on. Watching all his nervous little mannerisms, the way he picked at his nails. Or scratched the back of his neck when we were given an assignment he didn’t understand. 

Sometimes he’d come to school with a gash above his eyebrow, or a purple tinted bruise under his eye. You liked how he kinda looked sad and tired all the time. It was weird, you weren’t really sure why. It didn’t take long for you to get home. Letting yourself in because your mom and dad were both at work. This worked out great for you, it meant you could take hits of your pen out in the open. Also allowing you to use all the makeup on your moms vanity without her fussing. Time was flying by a lot faster now that you weren’t on campus. This may sound vain but you really want to impress him with your physical beauty.

Ensuring to pay attention to the smallest details, making sure your eyelash glue wasn’t visible. That your concealer wasn’t caking under your eyes. After staring at yourself in the mirror for a while, you drove over. His house was really nice, furnished like a 90’s family movie. Pictures of family and inspirational quotes, very cozy. Morty’s room was nice. He could normally keep it very tidy but, you’d like to think he cleaned it because you were coming over. Different posters scattered about his room, a rug in the middle of the room; made to look like the solar system. 

“Have you always been into science?” you asked. 

“Uh, no my grandpa is the one who made me into it,” he said, pulling out the chair for you to sit at his desk. 

“Oh yeah, Trish was telling me about that. What’s like the craziest thing you guys ever did in space?” you asked, emptying your bag. 

“One time Rick was selling this-” he started but you interrupted. 

“No, no I meant like you. Not Rick, I wanna know what’s the craziest thing you’ve done,” you clarified. 

“I- um well. This one time Rick had to do some business on the citadel, I couldn’t come for w-what ever reason. There’s this, like club/bar thing called the Creepy Morty. It was the first time I snorted kalaxian c-crystals and some crazy shit w-went down,” he said, chuckling a little. 

“Oh my god, that sounds like a lot of fun,” you said, opening up your biology book. Pulling out the notes you’d written during class. 

“Your writing is so nice,” he said, watching you bend down to get your pink pencil box. 

“Thank you, I feel like those were pretty sloppy,” you said, opening the plastic box and revealing a plethora of weed paraphernalia, “Will we get in trouble for smoking here?” you asked, licking the grape flavored wrap. 

“B-be my guest,” he said, laughing nervously, “Can you even r-roll with nails?” he asked. 

Instead of verbally responding, you just finished rolling. He pointed out how you made the mouthpiece slightly tighter than the rest of it. The fact that he noticed this small detail made you blush. Putting the blunt between your lips, gesturing from him to light it. His hand shook a little as he brought the flame to you. It was surprising to you, watching him take ghost inhales without coughing. The two of you began talking back and forth, just about life and whatever came to mind. Eventually the conversation began to shift, you asking if he had a girlfriend. 

“No, w-why would I invite you over if I did,” he laughed. 

“Oh so you invited me over for romantic reasons?” you asked, tilting your head up and blowing the smoke towards the ceiling. 

“What? No Absolutely- I just…” he began slightly panicking. 

“No? Aww that’s too bad,” you said. 

“Really?” he asked. 

“I mean yeah, I think you’re really cool. I like you alot, I can’t deny that when you asked me to come over I was really excited,” you said, handing him the blunt. 

“Holy shit, honestly you don’t understand how good that is to hear,” he said. 

“Well now that we both can admit we never really intended on studying, maybe we can watch a movie on my laptop?” you asked.

He of course agreed, now laying on your stomachs. His twin size bed only made for your bodies to be pressed against each other. Watching a horror movie that he suggested. Already 15 minutes in, you were waiting for him to make a move. He was laying on his side, back facing the wall and his elbow was supporting his head . Rubbing your back but keeping a respectful distance from your ass. Eventually he started to wander down, making your back arch involuntarily. You could have sworn he chuckled, to be fair most of your focus was trying to act like it isn't affecting you. Going down past your skirt, his fingertips now against your skin. At first he was just feeling you up, squeezing and groping after a while. 

You were happy to be wearing makeup because your face was getting hot. He started to make things more intense, now rubbing the fabric of your panties. You had to bite back a gasp as he traced your slit with his fingers. He curls his leg around yours, spreading your thighs apart. Pulling your panties down and slightly, giving his hand room to spread your wetness around. Pushing his middle and ring finger into you. At first he maintained a slow place, giving you time to stretch around him. Starting to get more desperate, you arch and push yourself down onto his fingers. You were no longer regulating how loud you were being, letting pants and moans out without any shame. Morty noticed this and changed his position. Flipping you from your stomach to your back, pulling your shirt above your chest. He became animalistic once he saw your chest. 

Taking one of your nipples into his mouth. Sucking and flicking his tongue as he fucked his finger back into you. Becoming rougher, biting and nipping at your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair, not pulling through. Just caressing him, your mind becoming more and more foggy with pleasure. Your legs were trembling and you could feel your orgasm approaching. So could he, prompting him to pull his fingers out and play with your clit. It wasn’t long until you were coming, squirting on his hand. This took him off guard but made him cum in his boxers. Spreading your juices to your chest and slapping your breasts. Splashing the liquid around until you were squirming and reddened. The two of you laid there for a while until you broke the silence. 

“Can I do you back?” you asked and he shook his head. 

“No I came in my pants,” he said so casually that you couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter. 

“Oh yeah?” he asked, started mimicking the way you were moaning. Making both of you giggle yourselves to sleep.

[luffyrose]

Oh Brother....s?

I had the most brilliant mini-idea while raging at video games because my parents suck at em. Anyway, there's really no correlation there, but the idea!

So we all know the whole "Danny is related to (Batkid) and he was give away because blah blah" or "he died and blah blah". We know those, and we love them, but what if, hear me out, Danny is related to MULTIPLE of them.

Danny is the child of Willis and Talia.

Now he was definitely not planned or anything, it just happened during a random mission and Talia couldn't bother to deal with it much. She decided that if the child lived she'd give it to Willis, a sort of test. It's not like she needed the baby, Damian had been born a little while before. Talia is one of those mothers who doesn't LOOK pregnant even when she's about to have the baby so basically, Danny does end up being born but is a really sickly kid, like REAL sick.

Of course, she really couldn't care less about the kid so baby Danny was given to Willis, who just gave Danny to Jason and Catherine. He's like 8 or so, so he isn't Robin yet, and he is SO happy to have a little brother. Except he's terrified for Danny, whose name was originally something else with Daniel being his middle name thanks to Jason (also why he kept the name Danny and not his original first name), but he doesn't want Danny hurt. After a few years, just before he becomes Robin, he gives a barely like 4-year-old Danny to a shelter or something with a blanket and a note.

Everything goes the same with both of them from there. The reason why Jason is easier on Damian compared to the others? He kinda looks like his baby brother, not identical but like, there's a resemblance, and he kind of finds it uncanny. Reason Talia even gave the time to help Jason? Well, he's technically the older brother of her younger child, and after having Damian for a while she does feel a little bad. Even if she doesn't want to meet the kid, she figured helping his older brother was a good enough way to apologize.

Danny remembers his older brother. How he looked and his name, and how he always took care of him. It's why even when his new adoptive parents neglected both him and Jazz he doesn't think anything is wrong. Jason had raised him. Now Jazz was. It was simply normal to him. He's just got major parent issues honestly.

The only people who know about his older brother are Jazz and Tucker though. His parents never were told because they'd been too busy to learn about it. Jazz had helped him on the earlier nights when he cried for Jason. And Tucker had learned when they first became friends as kids. Even if he was close to Sam, he never mentioned Jason though, it kind of felt like something he shouldn't touch anymore. It'd been years and even if he still had that star blanket, the note he vaguely remembers with it had been taken and put with his papers...and well he didn't know where those were.

Jason had already died and come back when Danny had the accident, so neither was aware of the other still. Danny does the whole hero thing for about 3 years before everything came crashing in for whatever reason, and he has to run. With no plan, he just follows his core and ends up in Gotham but he doesn't know why. Gotham herself is THRILLED to have him back because Jason was hers and this was Jason's little brother as well as her king! So she's trying to help the disoriented and hurt boy to his brother.

Cue shenanigans and angst though and it take a good MINUTE for Danny to even meet the Bats, let alone Jason. I'm thinking everyone meets him in one way or another before Jason is getting something from the cave while they're talking about this meta kid who LOOKS kind of like Damian but not at the same time, so they need to figure out if it's a clone or what. Jason sees the picture and is frozen, not even noticing the fact that he started crying while the whole fam is freaking out.

It's Damian, who looks between Jason and the picture, that notices the subtle differences that had them thinking it was still familiar were from Jason. And dun dun dun, it's Jason's little brother. He never knew who the mother was and after someone gets him out of his like mini-panic from knowing his brother was close by, he just bolts to his bike to go find him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I actually think I may make this a one-shot series. If anyone else wants to use this idea though feel free as well! Just tag me or smth :D

I honestly do think this is gonna be another thing I write though, I kinda love this idea a lot XDD

[savnofilter]

Bakugo w/ Quiet!S/O HCs

          Pro Hero!Katsuki Bakugo x [GN]Reader

CONTENT WARNING(S): sfw, fluff, reader has no specified profession, bumped into each other and person B picks up papers for Y person trope, strangers -> friends -> lovers (established relationship).

COUNT: 600 words.

I/B: i wanna show you my challenge LMAOO

READ MORE: masterlist + [students | bakugo masterlist]

A/N: ahhh i loved doing this rec lol. i couldnt come up with a specific job for reader sjejeje IM SORRY. i keep doing the same ones over and over too. 😭🙏🏽 so it's left undecided. it's not that serious but im mentioning it anyways lol. AND I KID YALL NOT, THINKING ABOUT THAT TIKTOK IS WHAT INSPIRED ME TO WRITE THIS LMAOSNSNMESK. anyways thank you, anon! ☠️

most people would think that you two wouldn't go or be together… but y'all together real bad. like real mf bad.

the one thing about you two is that he can understand you without you having to say anything.

this inclination to understand what you're thinking is what helped you bond.

it started off with him literally being like,

"Watch where you're going, what's wrong with you???"

You gave an apologetic look, one close to tears as his outburst startled you greatly. You were already late for a meeting and now you were being yelled at. On top of that, this awful interaction had just caused you to drop all your papers that were needed for your job.

You mutter an apology and kneel down to pick up the scattered papers. Bakugo lifts his brow as he watches you scramble and sighs a cuss under his breath at how passive you are. He begrudgingly bends down to start helping you pick up your stuff, feeling bad for his upfront behavior. He's much quicker than you probably because he mixed up the papers around, but he stands back and fixes them into a pile, looking down at your gaping expression at his aggressive niceness.

"Get your shit, c'mon."

You nod and frantically collect your stuff as you stand, pointing in the direction you need to go whilst he holds your stuff for you.

you're the type of person who has to get close to talk to people, (cough) ex; weather report (cough).

after Bakugo being intrigued about your—let's be real—odd way of communicating, you two became friends and it was inevitable that you two would start dating.

Bakugo would never admit it but he liked the fact that you so close to him to talk wksksksks like it's such a weak spot for him.

+ prefers to keep you close anyways.

he knows that you're pretty freaking smart since he did some snooping around when you first became friends to know more 'bout you.

+ because y'know…. you're that much of a talker lol. 😭

your answers were usually short and sweet and there were rarely times where your voice would inflict and you could ramble about something you were passionate about.

since you two weren't in the same careers although the same field, you had a lot of well rounded-ness about you.

one of the days when you accompanied him to the gym, he jokingly challenged you to spar with him, even going as far to pick you up and bring you to the mat.

he had given you an onslaught of tickles, one that had you giggling and playfully pushing him away until it was tew much and you shoved him a little tew hard.

Bakugo was so stunned at how hard he had fell back on his own butt. that doesn't normally happen when he's not sparring with a fellow hero.

that day he left you be, but later on he'd tease and test you to see how much you were truly hiding.

of course he wasn't forcing you into situations you didn't want to be in, but he finds it so amusing of how much you can truly exert in strength being the twerp you are.

there's even a few times where he bribes you to lift heavy ass weights just to admire how strong you are lmaoo.

he's genuinely so into you that everything you do keeps him entertained.

never would he have guessed the quiet person he had never glanced at before could be so…. unique.

    all rights reserved © do NOT steal, alter or copy this work.

[okkotsuus]

mi hermosa (sae i.) !

features: sae i.

contents: suggestive. sae is kinda ooc. reader is a model. hickies/neck kissing. sae feels you up kinda. gender-neautral reader. filming. sae is himself. vivid descriptions. insinuation at the end. 4.2k words.

notes: self-indulgent. my very very bad spanish. partial google translate bc i forgot most of my lessons. i just think not being able to understand what someone's saying but knowing what it means by how they say it is really hot. telenovelas are making me delulu. i luv sae.

heavily inspired by this edit from my queen koca ( @daiseukiis )

as you study your reflection in the glimmering surface of the bathroom mirror, you can't help but feel your own chest puff in pride. like a bird after hours of preening, even you were forced to acknowledge that you looked stunning at this moment.

maybe it was what felt like the endless hours you were forced to sit still while the makeup artists touched up every single pore and freckle on your face, or maybe it was just how they were able to bring out the untouchable features that were already there. either way, you felt as if you were on top of the world at this moment. you felt untouchable, unattainable.

the ringing of the bell signaling the end of the crew's lunch break drew you back into reality as you messed with the flyaway that had begun to escape what felt like a helmet of hairspray.

your shoes clicked against the tiled floor as you hurried on set. when you made it there, you saw the crew scrambling around as they finished the last props and lighting adjustments. they called every cue in a practice run and tested cgi with extras before taking the first shot.

you smoothed the clothes that hugged just right over your body. the material under your fingers felt expensive, smooth and soft. they were luxury for the brand that you were shooting and commercials for. along with other high dollar items, all to impose the idea of regality.

it was a perfume and cologne commercial. so it was guaranteed to be eccentric.

truth be told, you didn't even know what the shoot had in mind. you weren't part of the original cast, as you were still an up-and-coming model. but you were the only model who would agree to shoot on such a short notice.

your co-star, whom you had yet to even see, apparently had some sort of falling out with the person who was supposed to be in your spot. the crew had quietly pulled you to the side and told you that the moment he laid eyes on them, he immediately demanded for someone else, or he would quit. it made you so very anxious for him to see you, much less to co-star with him.

the thrumming of your heart pounded in your ears as your eyes flit to every corner of the room, trying to guess who you were going to be on screen with. if it went well, you would be able to get some connections out of this, right?

maybe a bit too optimistic for a guy who just looked at a model much more famous than you and threw a hissy-fit...

you saw the director approaching and quickly you attempt to compose yourself, not wanting your nervous sweat to make the mua's hard work run. you put on a wobbly smile as he greets you.

"y/n, great to see you, sorry again for the short notice! so, as you were told, today we are shooting a luxury l'eau de parfum commercial." you nod along, watching as he tells a personal assistant to go get a 'mr. itoshi.' you have no clue who that is, but he seems important given the way the pa broke into a cold perspiration at his name. maybe it was your tyrant of a co-star?

the director continues his rundown of the shoot, going over the details that normally would have been told before you would have signed the contract. "so, today you will be in very close proximity with your co-star. intimate touching, scantily clothed, innuendos, is that okay?"

you hesitate for a moment, since you were new: you had never done anything like this before. truth be told, you were feeling a little shy. until you saw him.

those half-lidded uncaring eyes of turquoise that had your heart racing from more than just the anxiety of it all. his hands are shoved deep into the pockets of his tight-fitting, black, suit pants. his white button-up is tucked in and only half buttoned, leaving a tempting portion of his toned chest teasingly exposed. a silver chain drums against his collarbones with every step he takes, darkened-blush hair ruffling with movement. god, he is stunning. just the sight of him had you nodding absent-mindedly to everything the director was saying. you didn't care about your doubts, as long as you were doing the intimate touching and scantily clothed-ness with him (for the commercial of course, nothing else...). you don't care how embarrassing it is.

he came to a stop an arms-length away from you, staring down at you under his nose. you can’t help but anxiously fidget; the confidence from earlier disappearing as you suddenly felt like the side character who’s screen time just ended, your presence completely being devoured by the main character that just entered the room under his scrutinizing gaze.

he huffs, clearing his throat before turning away from you. you wince, ready to be dismissed and humiliated, yet it never came.

"acceptable."

with that, he was gone. you were left gawking. all that pride you had lost was restored in an instant. he didn't instantly hate you? it was somehow the biggest ego boost you had been given in a long time.

the crew member who you had somehow become friends with starts squealing and bouncing up and down while you raise a shaky hand to feel the heat burning at your cheeks. is this real?

the final run of all the technical components finished and you went to join mr. itoshi on the set. unlike him, you weren’t aware of what was going on each scene, hence why the producer had to stage things more carefully. they weren't annoyed at all, instead thankful that she could find someone so last minute, even if it meant the shoot taking longer. it just wasn't worth the pay cut it would have taken to recast.

as the lights dim slightly, you turn your attention to the producer: sitting in her chair with the script.

"first of all, big thanks to y/n for making it on such short notice—” scattered claps from around the room all in your favor, “without them, we could never shoot this commercial! okay so, the first scene is going to be sae and y/n just sort of holding each other. it's intimate and coy, going to help us lead up to the bigger things going on later in the shoot. break a leg everyone!"

you felt your cheeks lightly warm at the description of the scene, clearing your throat before turning to sae, who was adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves and his open collar. you copy his professionalism and smooth out the wrinkles on your own luxury clothing items.

he takes a step closer to you and plants one hand on your hip, his fingers slightly digging into the plush of your skin as his other arm winds around your back loosely. sae’s breath fans over your face as he gently huffs through his nose. lashes fluttering as those aquamarine hues zero in on you, with his plush, pink lips parting slightly.

all of it is head-spinning, mind-boggling, he is so captivating. but you force yourself to remember this is a job. so you rest one of your hands over his muscular bicep, the other fisting the collar of his half undone shirt. your head tilts to the side to allow yourself to inch closer to him. the world goes silent and the two of you just stare at each other.

it was a moment frozen in time, both of your lashes flutter as you maintain that heavy stare. breath fanning in the small yet far too large gap between the two of you. your back is subtly arching as you press yourself further into him.

"cut!"

yes, all for the shoot, of course...nothing else, no other reason.

sae steps back from you, your arms stay up for a moment before falling limply to your side. you clear your throat and turn to the producer, desperately hoping that it didn't need another take, you weren't sure if your heart could take it.

"amazing job, that was a flawless take! y/n, you should really consider becoming an actor, the chemistry you created with sae was palpable. great work, take five while we get ready for the next scene, you two!"

you breathlessly thank her and scramble offstage, returning to hair and makeup to see if anything needed to be retouched. while the artist was touching up your lips and powdering your nose, you couldn't get sae's touch out of your mind. it lingered on your skin like a brand, hot and heavy.

your next costume was to change into a button-up just like the one sae was wearing, it was left even more unbuttoned. you were given a pair of white safety shorts to wear under it, a very obvious illusionary tactic of being pantless. you couldn't help but feel shy.

it was call time so you returned to the set, eyes locking on sae who abandoned the white shirt he was in and instead just wearing those fitted, black pants. he still had the necklace on; on that tempting delicacy of a body he has. you force yourself to focus on that. lest your vision slip to his sculpted torso, again.

when your eyes meet his after he catches you desperately trying not to stare, he had this cocky light to him. this time he isn’t looking down at you, more like looking through his lashes. it’s entrancing. he makes you want to curl up in a ball and disappear. he makes your stomach twist and heart race.

the producer came in and sat down, delivering the brief of the scene. "okay, so this scene is pretty tame as well, just the costume change makes it more risque. so basically sae is standing in the bathroom and y/n comes up behind him as rests their chin on his shoulder. with how things are going, it should likely be done in one take. break a leg!"

sae stood at the counter, hands on the counter and he leaned down and leered into the mirror at his own reflection. his eyes lidded as he licked his lips and tugged on his bottom one with his teeth.

you took a deep breath and approached him when the clapperboard slammed shut. your steps are soft as you pad against the faux tile, rising to your tippy-toes to hook your chin at the junction of his neck and shoulder. your arms wrap around him and rested atop his hands on the counter. smelling something almost intoxicating you sniffed at his neck, it was a cologne: hints of musk and teak-wood. it was the kind of scent that had your eyes rolling back into your head, which you were able to refrain from, luckily.

your touch lingered as they announced the end of the scene, dragging your fingers lightly against his skin. his eyes caught you as he raised a questioning brow, leaning back against the bathroom counter. your eyes traced every rise and fall of his abs before you turned and left in a flustered huff, not noticing the quirk of his lips in the slightest smirk.

as you snuck away, regretting it immediately, he caught you. slightly off to the side and away from peering eyes, sae itoshi looms over you with that intense stare you figured was just for the cameras. his lips rested against the shell of your ear as he breathed out a whisper. "ten cuidado, cosita hermosa...*"

you can’t help the shiver that runs up your spine as a whine is pulled out from your chest. you desperately hope he hasn’t heard it, but he very clearly did when that smug look came in view. his hands gripped your hips as he said one last thing before departing. "no empieces cosas que no puedas terminar.**" again, he was gone.

you felt your back meet the wall behind you as you covered your mouth, trying to stabilize your racing heart. you have not a single clue what he said, but you just couldn't help but feel the effects of its trance regardless.

it took a long time for you to drag yourself back to hair and makeup, they had to powder your entire face pretty much. your now ruffled hair took a little fixing due to that…moment. luckily, you didn't need a costume change. all costumes did was spray something, likely the perfume you're advertising, onto the insides of your wrists and neck.

you spaced out during the producers instructions, leaning against the counter-top. your attention being forced back onto the shoot when all of the sudden sae is caging you against the counter. one hand pinned yours atop the porcelain where it had rested, the other gripping your wrist and brought it to his face, where he pressed a searing kiss to it.

he sniffed at it and a cheshire grin split his face, "y'know this one's my favorite baby. makes me want you..." he groans the ending, leaning closer and pressing his lips to your neck. you couldn't remember if this was a scripted line or not, but you couldn't bring yourself to care; you'd savor it the same either way.

you lean your head back and rest your unrestrained hand on the back of his head, fingers threading in light mahogany tresses. he kisses up the column of your neck, nose digging against the exact places where the stylists had sprayed the perfume. you can’t help the whimper that slips from your lips at the subtle nips he makes at your skin. they're light enough not to turn red and leave marks that makeup would have to cover, but you can feel them. you can feel every drag of his tongue and every mold of his lips against your searing skin.

his head lifted from his torturous kisses as his eyes bore into yours, you feel so small under his gaze, like you were pressed under his thumb. he leans in and your eyes squeeze shut as his lips ghost over yours. your grip on his hair tightens as your back arched to press your chest against his.

everything just felt so real.

maybe that's why the producer yelled another enthusiastic "cut!" it you jumping and startled. your eyes met sae's taunting gaze as he pulls away, leaving you limp and boneless against the counter as you reeled from all that.

"wonderful work guys, we're making up for all the time we had lost with sae's... fit—” to which he rolled his eyes, remembering that event and sae’s glaring hues, “keep it up! gosh this is wonderful acting, i really need this kind of stuff from my cast on the film we're shooting tomorrow... next one is the last scene we'll need you two together on set for."

your heart aches a little at that, but at the same time it has you puffing a sigh of relief. you couldn't handle this any longer, he was just so... so? intense, alluring, intoxicating? nothing seemed right, these words were all too mild to encompass what sae itoshi was.

your hands reached up to cup your cheeks, feeling their burning intensity on your palms. you shook your head and mentally give yourself a pep talk before going over to get your final touch-ups and clothing adjustments.

your shirt was pulled down to expose your shoulders, the open buttons drawled down to just above your stomach. hair and make-up left you alone, saying that it would be better for them to be slightly messed up anyways. that made you slightly realize what this scene was going to be showing.

you can’t help but feel hot under the collar, or well; lack of a collar, now. you couldn't look sae in the eyes when you saw the set: a bed with slightly ruffled white sheets. what you were able to notice was that he had lost the belt on his pants, which were now unbuttoned and unzipped. they sag down lower on his hips, revealing the line of muscles that ended when the branded band of his boxers peeked out just below a slight trail of hair on his lower stomach.

you gulp, eyes finding every single thing you could fixate on except sae. the changing lights, the rush yet control of the crew as they all got ready for the camera to roll, the producer talking. oh wait the producer is talking.

"—or this scene, we're going to have both of you on the bed. sae will be on top of y/n, face in their neck. y/n will have their legs slightly around him, and i trust you to know where your hands need to go. oh, and you're going to be looking into a camera above you. you both have been doing so well, i've never had a shoot with two actors who have never met, much less ones who have gone this well. let's finish it up people!"

you sort of just stood there, stunned. you’re pulled over to the bed by sae, who has that slight wolfish grin playing on his lips. he puts his hands on your shoulders, leaning into be closer to your face. to the outside eye, it looked like he was giving a co-star a pep talk, how sweet.

but you knew different, you saw the grin and narrowing of his turquoise eyes, the way his fingers dig into your skin. you knew this was anything but a friendly chat. "wouldn't it be such a shame if they all found out that you weren't acting, that you were really just this desperate for me, hermosa?***" his breath was hot and his voice rasped, it was so addicting, you couldn't help the shudder that wracked up your spine as you dumbly nodded.

sae looks you over, head to toe, one last time before pulling away as his expression returns to neutral. you let out a shaky sigh and sat back on the bed, scooting to be further in the center. you sit there for a moment before laying down.

you can’t help the nervous feeling in your stomach that swirls as sae slowly stalks towards you; he was the predator locking on to his prey. there was a hunger in his eyes that was just too intense.

languidly, he crawls along the bed to you. he stops, hovering over you and looking at you with that same unruly need. he leans ever so closer, close enough to feel his breath fanning over your lips.

his eyes study you, taking in every single reaction you make. you feel his analytical gaze run over every curve and dip of your body, soaking you in and engraving it into his mind. his hands plant themselves on your hips, effectively pinning them to the mattress as he puts some of his weight on them. he slots one of his knees between your own, which you had so pathetically clamped shut.

you lift the leg that wasn't between his up to loosely rest over his lower back, hooking and keeping him there. you brought one of your hands to splay over the wide span of his back, between his shoulder blades. the other was placed at the nape of his neck, fisting and grabbing at the strands of hair that fell a little longer than the rest. his head was pulled down to bury his face in the crook of your neck, breath puffing over spots that had you shuddering in place.

"ayyy... mi hermosa es una gran 'actriz', ¿no?****" his words were hot against the side of your neck, feathering over your skin. you couldn't help the twisting and curling of your stomach at his words, which you didn't understand a lick of. it was just the way he rasped and twined every syllable that had you quivering under his voice, under his touch, under him.

you heard the snap of the clapperboard, but it was all muted. everything sounded faint. your senses were too focused on the calculated squeezes that sae gave on the width of your hips, roiling and kneading flesh under deft, lithe fingers. you too were focusing on the open-mouthed kisses he was trailing along the junction of your neck and shoulder, the column of your throat, your jawline. every drag of his lips, every swipe of his tongue, it had you shaking like a leaf in the wind.

the expression you sent to the camera hanging above you was nowhere near acting. it was the kind of raw desire that actors wished they could emanate. you tug at his hair, trying to pull him a little further back; to spare yourself from this torment. he only lets a rumble escape his chest, nipping along your heated skin, which had become slightly sheened from an ever-so-thin layer of sweat.

the way your back arches off the plush mattress, leg that wasn't wound around him kicking pitifully at the sheets, it was downright sinful. it made you feel pathetic, falling so pliably into the hands of a man you haven't even known for three hours. so desperately begging him for more with unspoken mannerisms and looks. it was like public humiliation; the way he had you under his control to the very point of your toes curling against the pure white sheets that crumpled around you.

you stare at yourself in the reflective lens of the camera that stares down at you, forever capturing this moment; before it is broadcasted to millions, if not billions of people. it caught every facet, every single little tick until you had exploded. it caught your widened eyes, which screw themselves shut. it caught your hands gripping and pulling at locks of blush hair. it caught your agape mouth, lips glossy with your own spit; and it caught you sinking your teeth into the pillowy flesh of your bottom lip to silence yourself. it caught every ministration sae subjected you to, and every little receptive reaction you gave him in return.

that red blinking light in it died, but you couldn't bring yourself to tap out. drunk on the feeling you pulled him closer, stretching to hook your chin over his shoulder: burying yourself in his scent, in him.

"...ut! guys, that's cut!" gods, it was so hard to snap yourself back to reality. your eyes flicker over to the producer, who was staring so closely at the two of you. in a hushed whisper you shook sae, telling him to get off of you. to which he answered, "don't care, let 'em watch."

you pushed him up with your palms butting against the front of his shoulders, ignoring the pointed glare he gives you. "well i do, so off." with that, you slipped away from him. you sat against the front of the stage, waiting for feedback. the air of the fans made the spit on your neck from sae's searing kisses feel cold, sending a shiver racking up your spine.

the man stands behind you, shadow looming over and consuming your own. your shoulders rounded as you huddled in on yourself from his all-consuming presence, trying to hide the fluttery feeling in your stomach.

"great work, that'll be all we need you two together for, and all we'll need y/n for. thank you for the great work!" the crew clapped and you felt a smile stretch your cheeks. even if it wasn't all acting, you couldn't help the pride that swelled in your chest at their praise.

you gather up your things, not seeing sae again. bidding farewell to everyone: the producer, the director, and every crew member who worked specifically with you, not hearing a word from sae. as you walk out of the door, you saw a familiar figure leaning against the metal-sheeted wall, sae.

turquoise eyes glanced over at you, not nearly as cold as they were the first time they had. if anything, the hues that cast an ever so dark spell on you and your beating heart. he raises himself from the wall, walking towards your figure. hands in the pockets of a pair of grey sweatpants, a black compression shirt stretching over his broad chest. fuck, what was he doing to you?

his hand tucks a strand of hair away from your face, fingers sliding from where he had left it behind your ear along your jaw. he holds your chin between his fingertips, gentle but steadily raising your head to look up to his eyes. his other hand starts to creep under the hem of your shirt, drawing circles so faint they give you goosebumps along the soft flesh of your tummy.

"what'd ya say we pick up where we left off back at my place, mi hermosa?*****"

* = "be careful, pretty thing..."

** = "don't start things you can't finish."

*** = "...beautiful?"

**** = "ayyy... my beautiful is a great 'actor', no?"

***** = "... my love"

okkotsuus 23

[spider-man-199999]

Paris to Tokyo

pairing: college!Peter Parker x Reader: 18+; academic rivals to lovers

word count: 5K

warnings: smut; slight angst; unpotected sex

summary: You start your new life at college, expecting it to be the most exciting time of your life, only to be met with Peter Parker, who decided to dedicate his free time to making your life a living hell

a/n: I've been dying to write an enemies to lovers type of fic, it's also my first time writing anything with suggestive content in it, so bear with me please. The heading is the most random thing I could come up with I'm sorry

College was the place you were looking forward to the most since you graduated high school. It was supposed to be a place where you met people with similar interest, went out with them to have fun and engage in intellectual converstaions. And it was exactly like that, for the most part. Growing up as a natuarally intelligent kid had you been putting little to no effort in school and always got you good grades. This quickly escalated into you trying a bit harder with each test and striving for more academic validation. At some point you even managed to become the best student in your class. But sitting hours on end on a desk and studying was still something very foreign to you. Sure, you would revise from time to time on topics that were harder to remember or things you couldn't recall from class, but it never went further than that. And maybe a degree in Biophysic was not the wisest idea given that backgroung. So, when college came around and you started the new classes on topics your common knowledge could barely help you keep up with, things went downhill very fast. For the first time you were faced with faliure, hard work and putting hours on end to study. It felt like everyone around you was more knowledgeable, more prepared, more educated on literally any topic that was discussed in and outside of class. Being at the bottom of the academic foodchain was mildy infuriating, to say the least.

And after the first few months of sleepless nights, filling up all of the holes so you could catch up to speed, you finally did it, and it felt more rewarding than anything else. This assisted you into making casual conversations with so many people from your different classes, one of them even inviting you to a study group that had been going on for months. You happily agreed to that idea, thinking it would be the best way to keep up with everyone in the class, not only academically but socically as well.

The day of the study group finally arrived on what seemed like the most normal, yet the most exciting Tuesday. They added you to a groupchat, everyone texting back and forth until all of you had agreed to go grab a coffee before heading to the library. You had tried your best to look presentable for this study date, putting on some white wide-leg dress pants and a neat navy blue t-shit that hugged your body very well. You hair was in a sleek bun, having a white buttonup because the weather was slightly chilly. Almost everyone had arrived there on time, which took you by surprise since you were used to being the only one being on time. After the cheerful greeting and formally learning everyone's names, you went inside and grabbed a coffee, returning to them promptly. You stood by the door, since the group had formed a circle around the entrance of the small shop.

"Was I the last one?" You asked concerned, looking around and counting the people.

"Actually, we're waiting for Peter" Someone said, everyone giggling softly and shaking their head.

"Who's Peter?" You asked, and as soon as you did, you felt something push againt your shoulder, sending you a step forward so you wouldn't come crashing down from losing your balance.

"I'M SO SORRY" you heard from behind you, turning around to see a boy with a worried expression on his face, paper cup in his hand. He was handsome, hair pushed back, warm eyes and nervous smile, leather jacked over a black t-shirt.

"That's Peter" someone stated, pulling you out of your trance. Peter chuckled, moving past you and motioning for everyone to go, since he was the one you all had been waiting for.

On the walk there you kept staring at the back of Peter's head, annoyed that he pushed you with the door, frusrated because he didn't even bother to introduce himself to you. Not that he really had to, you already knew well enough who he was. The guy who always came in rushing because he was late, somehow still managed to sit directly in front of you, blocking your view, no matter where you sat. He was the guy that would beat you to every question, the one who would always have the best grade on the tests. He leaned way too back in his seat, back pressed to your desk, pushing it, as you would try to keep up with writing everything down. And he would always ask you for a pen, every single time.

The study room was spacious and bright, it had a big round table for everyone to sit at, as well as two whiteboards and plenty or outlests for chargers and what not. It looked like the perfect place to study with a large group, excluding the fact Peter was there as well. You all took random seats around the table, Parker sitting across from you, almost as if it were on purpose. You held back an eye roll when he smiled at you cockily, making you look away and take out your laptop and notebook from your bag. The screen managed to block out most of Peter's face if you sink into your seat low enough. The conversation in the room flowed naturally, it was so interesting and engaging and you were having a blast speaking to these people. Soon enough all of you had solved the first homework questions, you quickly grabbing a pen and writing it down in your notebook. As you were in the middle of writing, an outside force closed your laptop. Your eyes looked at the laptop, seeing a pale male hand, fingers spread. You stared at it for a few seconds, noticing how pretty the hand actually was, long and straight fingers, follwed by a slim wrist and a muscular forearm. Your gaze trailed the hand up to Peter's face, looking into his eyes with annoyance already.

"Hey, do you-" before he even managed to finished his sentence, you had taken out a pen from your pencil case and placed it on your laptop, next to his hand.

"Thank you" he muttered, you not even looking back at him. This routine, as much as it was annoying, gave you some kind of comfort as well.

"How come you never have a pen with you?" You asked after a while, your curiosity getting the better of you.

"Oh, well actually I do have one, it's easier to just use yours"

''Unbelieveble"

"Come on, like you would ever need a second pen for anything"

You hovered over the table and grabbed the pen from his hand in a swift motion, he looked a bit taken a back, as well as the few people following your interaction.

"Actually, I need it now" you said, putting the one you were using away and continuing your writing with the one you just got back from him.

"You're being unbelieveble now" He said slightly irritated, reaching to get his won pen from his backpack.

"The two of you, cut it out, you're acting like children!" someone shushed you, making you blush when you realised it wasn't just you and the curly-haired boy in the room.

You gulped softly, mummbling a sorry to everyone as you kept writing down.

"Us cut it out? She was the one acting like a child, making a big deal out of a pen!" Peter whined and complained, starting to write down things in his notebook after he got a few angry glares from other people.

Around the time the group got to the third and final question for the homework you were feeling confident enough to try to contribute to the assignment.

"So you're basically saying that principle of hemodialysis is the same as other methods of dialysis - it involves diffusion of solutes across a semipermeable membrane?" you asked, as you were brainstorming through the question.

"Oh come on, y/n, this is the easiest question so far!'' Peter said, leaning froward, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Ever since the pen situation, he's been worse than ever before, taking every opportunity to show of how much smarter he was, followed by a cocky smirk.

"Intermittent dialysis therapy is used in chronic uremia to re-establish body water solute concentrations that cannot be achieved by the natural organ. In this sense, the dialyzer becomes an artificial kidney and it is through the transport of substances by this device that chemical and biophysical control consistent with continued survival is achieved." He explained, solving the question for you.

"She had it figured out, you could have let her be" Someone you didn't remember the name of said to him, making Peter's head turn in that direction.

"She obviously didn't, keep in mind her highest grade is my lowest" He snapped back.

You could feel the tension in the atmosphere thicken with each second, things were about to escalate very quickly. His words stung a bit and you felt something like a ball stuck in your throat after he said them. He didn't know how much work you had put in and he was incosiderate enough to just assume the worst of you. Before things managed to get any further, or worse, out of control, you slammed your thick notebook shut.

"Since Peter was kind enough to solve the last question, I think I'm going to call it a night" you said, fighting back the tears. Your voice gave you away as it wa slightly shaky, earning a few sympatheric looks.

You shoved your things in the bag as quickly as you as possible and walked out, trying to get as far away as possible. You were trying not to break down the whole walk back to your dorm, bitting your lip, brushing away some stray tears that ran down your cheeks with your sleeve. You were mentally blaming yourself for everything, for not walking fast enough, for not knowing enough, for deciding to join the study group, for even deciding on this degree to begin with. By the time you made it to your room, your phone was already blown up by text messages from Natalie, the person who originally invited you. She was a small blonde, blue-eyed beauty that was just as smart as she was pretty. You could bet on your own life that she was class president and the prom queen in high school. She was more than kind to you this whole time and her text messages suggested that she was worried about you too. With a quick click you deleted all the messages from your notification centre and threw the phone on your bed, followed by your bag. Hot tears ran down your face, breathing heavily as you were preactically sobbing at this point. You sat down on the floor, not being able to hold in the frustrstion anymore as you finally broke down, letting all of the shame, pain and anger flow out of your system through your tears.

A couple of hours had gone by, your tears were dried up on your face and neck as you lay on the floor and stared at the ceiling. Your phone kept buzzing from time to time and you finally gathered the emotional strenght to reply to the messages. Sitting on the bed, you unlocked the device and scrolled through the unred chats. The groupchat had sent the written solutions for the questions. Natalie had probably sent you 20 messages apologising and asking if you were okay. The guy who defended you had also sent you a message. His name was Brad and he looked like any normal person did. You texted him first, thanking him for standing up for you even though he did not need to do that. After him it was Natalie, who called you immediately after you hit send to reply to her first message. You picked up hesitantly, since you knew your voice was definitely going to sound like you had been crying.

"I am so sorry for everything! If I knew you and Peter were on bad terms I wouldn't have done this to you" She immediately spat out

"It's okay, I we aren't on bad terms, well... weren't"

"Have you been crying?"

"No..."

"I'm really sorry! I spoke to him after the whole thing, he's usually nothing like this! He himself couldn't explain why he acted like this"

"Nat, I really, really don't care"

"He said he wanted to make it up to you! He asked me himself for your number and your dorm room!"

"Please tell me you didn't give him any of that information"

"Well..."

"Oh my god now he knows where I live" you whined, bringing your knees up to your chest and hugging them.

"He wanted to apologise! He looked very sincere and worried"

"Yes, all the psychopaths do, that's why they're so hard to recognize!"

"I'm sure he wouldn't just show up at your door trying to make amends, you'll be fine, plus he's a really cool dude, give him a chance to prove he's not an asshole"

"He had his chance, it was today"

After you two said your goodbyes and hung up, you deicided it was finally time to take a relaxing shower. As you walked out, you heard a knock on your door. Still wrapped in a towel, one hand holding it in place, you opened the door to a Peter Parker, leaning on the doorframe. You blinked a few times rapidly, trying to process what you were seeing.

"Why are you here?" You asked, after carefully calculating your tone and your words

"You weren't picking up your phone" he replied, trying to step a foot inside. You blocked his action with the door.

"I didn't say you could come in"

"Can I come in then?"

"No, good night Parker" With that you tried closing the door on him but he grabbed it, not letting you close it.

"Look, I'm here to apologise for what I said earlier. You don't have to forgive me"

"And I don't, go Peter"

He looked shatter at your words looking into his brown eyes, you almost felt sympathy for him, like he really did feel sorry about what he did. Despite that, you kept your composure, looking at him with all the resentmet you had for him, a sigh leaving his lips as he let go of the door. He didn't need superpowers to know he fucked up, so he left. And you on the other hand, were more devistated than before, but your ego was bruised and your self-esteem ruined. The only person, no matter how annoying, you didn't want to think less of you, thought less of you. Yes, it was good that he wanted to apologise but this was not going to undo his words and the image he obviously had. You didn't even know if the apology really was his idea or was forced on him by the others in the group. You shook you head, dismissing the thoughts as you got ready to sleep. Sleep always helped with heavy emotions and you hoped you would feel better in the morning.

A few weeks went by and you still refused to forgive Peter for what he said. In your heart, you knew he was really sorry at this point but you enjoyed his suffering as you roasted him slowly on low heat. He tried all the cliché ways, buying flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals, buying you coffee before every study date. Your neighbours were convinced that the two of you were dating and would always ask about him when you gathered in one of the rooms to eat together or drink. You denied that but they rolled their eyes and never believed. In the mean time Brad tried to get closer to you, even inviting you on a date. You accepted hesitantly, since your heart seemed to be someplace else, liking all of the effort and attention from Parker more than it should. You told Natalie about the date, the two of you had become very close, spending a lot of time together, which often resulted in Brad and Peter tagging along. To say the boys were not getting along would be an understatement. Eyes throwing daggers at each other with every glance, snarky, rude comments were exchanged back and forth. But when you told the pretty blonde about Brad, she was more than excited about it finally happening . She would go on and on about how she knew he liked you ever since the first study session you had together and how he had a very heated fight with Peter after you left. You were grateful for him and what he did, and somehow it still felt wrong to be going out with him.

The night of the date had arrived and you were almost ready, putting in your earrings as you heard a knock on your door. You took a quick look in the full lenght mirror, fixing the long black dress you were wearing. It had a long slit on the left side, exposing your leg, no sleeves and a turtle neck. You had tied your hair in a ponytail, so your light make up would be more visible in the muffled evening lights of wherever he was planning to take you. You opened the door, still not wearing your chunky leather boots but just stockings.

"I thought we were going to meet in front of the library" you said as you opened the door but to your sursprise, someone else was standing there.

"You're not going on that date" Peter said firmly, almost as a command

"You're the last person that's going to tell me what to do" You snapped back at him "Why are you here Parker?"

He walked inside, closing the door behind himself. Peter seemed slightly distressed, looking you up and down with a dark expression.

"Do you really hate me that much?" he asked, leaning his back against the door, his arms behind him as he looked down at his feet. "Or do you just want to hurt me by going out with the guy I like least? Like really? All the guys are in your feet and you decide to go out with Brad, and look as gorgeous as this."

You could hear the annoyance and sadness in his voice, a bit taken a back from all of the things he just said to you. He just loved doing that, didn't he? Saying the most obnoxious things to make you feel bad about yourself.

"Wait, what?" was all you managed to say, taking a few steps back until your butt pressed agains your desk, making you stop. Books and make up palletes were scattred on it. Peter looked up at you, smiling weakly.

"I've liked you, this whole time" he confessed, staring directly into your eyes "Please, don't go on that date"

"Make me" you said faintly, surprised by how you almost whispered it. There was no way he could have heard that. But somehow he did, taking a few rapid steps towards and wrapping an arm around your waist.

"I'll make you forget everyone else but me" he whispered in your ear.

Feeling his hot breath near your face made your heart beat faster, one of your hands resting against his upper arm, looking up into his eyes. You were having a hard time processing what was actually happening, a sudden fear it was one of his games to make fun of you. You tried pushing him away after the realization, but his grip on your waist tightened.

"I'm serious, y/n" he said "I've liked you since I saw you, and I would make everyone sit away from you so I could be near, I would ask you for a pen so I could talk to you. And I tried to show off because I wanted to impress you, I wanted you to think I'm smarter so you could ask me for help in class."

For some reason you believed him, nodding lightly to let him know that. He lifted you up with one arm, sitting you on top of the desk. You were having a hard time vocalizing what you were feeling but you didn't want him to feel awkward because of your silence. Your arms wrapped around his neck, his hand falling on your exposed leg. You looked down at where his hand was, your skin burning with desire to be touched by him more. Your eyes met his again, his filled with hopefullness and lust. He got closer, titling his head to the side and he kissed you softly and sweetly. You returned the kiss, hands cupping his face and bringing him closer to you. Peter deepened the kiss, turning it in a heated make out session as one of his hands romed around your leg, going up your dress so he could touch more of you and the other one placed on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. You spread your legs, pulling him by the belt so he could position himself between them, your hands going to his hair and playing with his messy curls as your lips and tongues danced against each other. After what seemed like a forever of heated, hungry kisses and filty touching, you broke the kiss so you could catch your breath. You panted havily, chest rising up and down rapidly. Peter pressed his forehead against yours, both of you closing your eyes to collect yourselves.

"Should I at lest text Brad and tell him I'm not going?"

"Well, there goes my hard on"

You hit his chest lightly, both of you giggling at his stupid joke. He looked around, noticing your phone that was charging on the bed, moving away from you to grab it and hand it to you. You unlocked the phone trying to find your chat with Brad while Peter found his previous position, viciously attacking your jaw and neck with kisses. You tried your best to be concentrated and write a normal message, but made a few spelling mistakes nonetheless. Peter nibbled on your neck, which earned him a slight flinch from your side.

“Peter, please, we’re not 16, no hikeys”

He ignored your words, continuing his act the way he had planned it, kissing, licking and sucking on your soft skin while you begged him to stop. His hands were all over your body once again, touching everything that was exposed to him, one hand travelling further up your leg than before, almost landing on your ass but hesitantly stopping. You noticed his uncertainly, pressing your cheek against his so you could whisper in his ear.

“Don’t stop now, Peter” you breathed in his ear, your own hands exploring his body.

He didn’t waste a second after that, grabbing your butt in his hand and pressing his lips against yours. Your hands moved under his shirt, touching his toned stomach. Your were quite shocked to what your fingertips were pressed up against, not expecting him to be as muscular as he actually was. You knew he worked out because you had seen his toned arms in a t-shirt too many times for your own good, but you were definitely not expecting that. Hands quickly slipped him out of his jacket, reaching to pull up his shirt in the heat of the moment but he stopped you, moving slightly away. Your lipstick was smudged all over his mouth and it made you giggle.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked you, his hands finding their way back to your waist. You nodded, undeniably longing for him and his touch, his presence.

“Good, because if we keep this up any longer, I probably won’t be able to hold back” Peter muttered, removing his shirt and tossing it on the floor before he pulled you in again, kissing you.

You took that as a signal that you had to get undressed as well, reaching for the hem of your dress pulling it up. He grabbed your hands when he noticed the act, stopping you from doing what you had planned so he could do it himself. Suddenly you felt the cold air from the room against your skin, along with Peter's warm hands, making you shiver. You undid his belt, helping him pull his pants down, breaking your kiss in the process. You laughed soflty at how he was jumping on one leg while he was trying to kick his pants off, shaking your head.

"What?" He asked

"Nothing, nothing, I'm really missing a date right now for you jumping on one leg to get out of your pants" you bursted out laughing, him joining you shortly after.

"No, it's going to get so much better, trust me" He stated, grabbing you and lifting you up, throwing you on the bed. You squeaked softly from his actions, not expecting it. Soon enough he had your hands pinned down with his, hovering over you. A soft gulp at the sight from you made him chuckle, kissing on your neck once again. He had already left a mark there, starting to suck on a second spot next it.

"Peter really! It's going to be so hard to cover them up" you whined, secretly enjoying his lips and teeth on your skin like this.

He looked at your face, smiling viciously at you.

"I just want people to know you had a good time"

"Yeah, with Brad? I was suppsed to be on a date with him" you teased him, chuckling softly. His expression changed suddenly, he seemed almost angry. His hands let go of your wrists, travelling down your skin as he reached the hem of your panties. His fingers played with the hem of them before slipping in under the thin fabric, the middle finger going between your folds. He could feel how wet you actually were, making him smirk with that cocky smile he had, looking into your eyes. You were holding back a small moan from his touch, looking at his pretty face.

"Can Brad make you this wet baby?" He asked.

You shook your head no, keeping eye contact with him. His middle finger started moving up and down tesing your clit before entering you slowly. This time you couldn't hold back and you moaned, closing your eyes. His smile remained present as he insedted a second finger inside of you, starting to move his hand teasingly slow. Your body squirming underneath him, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, rocking his hips against your leg while he fingered you. You could feel his erection through his boxers, making you even more needy than you already were.

"Parker" you moaned out softly, remembering your hands were actually free and you could move them, immediately attaching to his shoulders, which was the closest body part besides his head. He looked up at you after you called out for him, grabbing your face with his hand and kissing you.

"Peter" you moaned again against his lips, feeling his skin shiver from that. I never considered what effect you actually had on him. "Please, I want to feel you."

After you begged him, he wasted no time pulling your panties down, unressing himself as well. His arms spread your legs forcefully, positioning himself between them. You didn't really manage to follow everything he was doing because you were too eager yourself, pushing up against him in hopes to speed up the process. He pinned you down by the waist, shaking his head in disapproval at your actions. Peter didn't like it when you disobeyed him, even though it was the only thing you were good at doing. He lined himself up to you, teasing you lightly with his tip as a warning before he inserter himself inside, both of you moaning from the act. You felt something like actual electricity when he did that, making you breath heavy from the ecstacy. His hips moved rythmically, along with yours. He was still holding you by the waist, standing on his knees while he fucked into you. You moved your leg up on his shoulder, making him smile and kiss it, one of his hands running up and down it while both of you looked into echother's eyes. You enjoyed the view, so much, his naked toned body, his messy hair, that gorgeous face, your leg on his shoulder while he moved. It was hypnotysing, breathtaking, made your legs shake alone. He could feel you tighthen up around him, making him laugh softly.

"So soon?" he asked, noticing how you started squrming more than in the beginning, legs shaking from time to time, moans becoming more freaquent

"Peter, I'm really close" you managed to say, hands gripping on the sheets around you. His grip on your waist taightened as he went faster and deeper, making you whines more prominent than before. You walls started clenching around him, feeling yourself already starting to cum on him. He placed a hand on your lower stomach, applying slight pressure on it which really sent you over the edge, whole body shaking, heavy breathing and moaning uncontrolablly. He had to hold you down while you came, leaning forward and pecking your lips after you calmed down.

"I need a moment too" he whispered against your lips "Can you handle it for me?"

You nodded, letting him continue rocking his hips into you. You were covered in sweat and so was he, bodies pressed against eachother as he moaned softly in your ear, your legs wrapped around his waist to stop the shaking from the overstimulation.

"Peter" you mumbled against his ear ''I think you're really hot... like, way hotter than I expected''

"Fuck" he replied, pulling out of you and stroking his lenght a few times before he came on your stomach, both of you panting. He lay down next to you for a second, kissing your forehead and hugging you.

"You did so well" he praised you, starting to leave small butterfly kisses all over your face. You laughed softly, cuddling into him.

"We should go take a shower"

"Are you suggesting a second round in your shower?"

"No! Well... maybe, okay, yes"

He laughed at your reply, shaking his head.

[dashofmonsters]

Bonds of Blood & Delight- Prologue

Male Fae x F!Reader

"A bard? They'll let anyone in here these days," the gate guard scoffs as he tosses your order badge back at you.

The badge nearly slips out of your hand but you manage to grasp it and refasten it to your cloak. You hate when people call you a bard, even if they're not exactly wrong. You're a mage of the Order of Delight. Yes, a lot of entertainers have come from it but there are serious mages who take their skills beyond just illusions and spell crafted songs.

"I've taken the aptitude test like everyone else and sent in my qualifying spells. I've been accepted because I meet the standards," you frown at the guard as he checks your name.

"Whatever makes you feel better. You'll take a left once the gate opens and go towards the west tower where all the first years go," He sniffles and opens the gate.

You collect yourself and walk forward, trying not to feel too ruffled by the bard comment any longer. You've made it this far on your own with your own brand of spells. You're the first mage in your order to invent new spells in over two hundred years as well as the first to get accepted into the High Tower of magic research and development.

Here you'll be able to make a difference, here you'll be able to learn real magic and create more spells for your order. That, and hopefully learn more about the alchemists that reside here.

You grind your teeth just thinking about them. Alchemy has earned high regards in the world of magical research as of late due to the metal refining and greedy nobles. But it's demanding and requires a lot of blood. Not just normal blood, but blood with mana. There are many black market back alley alchemists who've take to kidnapping anyone with magic in their blood. You're late twin brother perished at the hands of a noble's alchemist and you'd have been next if it wasn't for his newly hired mage. Hendrick was a mage of the Order of Delight hired to entertain but his real job was a search and rescue. Unfortunately, you were the only one left to rescue out of the dozens of orphans that were kidnapped, drained and killed.

If Hendrick hadn't saved you when he did, you'd have followed your brother into an early grave. You recall how he took you in, practically adopted you and taught you everything he knew and then some. He was loud and boisterous with a stage presence that put many seasoned performers to shame. Nobody would ever guess that he was actually a mercenary.

It's funny to think that the least suspecting mage order has the most mercenaries and assassins than any other. Or maybe it makes perfect sense, no one would suspect the killing blow to come from the pretty man playing the flute.

The Order of Delight's underground sect known as The Dirge. It's small with only thirty members and you've been tasked with infiltrating the High Tower. You've spent the last five years crafting new spells that would allow me to qualify to study here, I created a persona that would be unassuming yet stereotypical. No one will know why you're here, least of all those fucking alchemists.

Feeling a bit more resolved you set your nerves aside. This mission is incredibly important in bringing down the alchemy rings and kidnappings once and for all and you'd be lying if you said that you weren't nerve wracked.

Biting your cheek you continue on to the West Tower and up the long winding staircase. The air is heavy with magic and a strange scent of salt water and incense. A guard stops you once you reach the halfway point and asks for your name and order badge. He doesn't give you any grief about what order you're from, in fact he seems to not really care about anything at all.

You decide to start making note of the guards first then since they seem pretty relaxed.

He points to a door to his left where all first years are sorted one by one in an interview given by the head of the West Tower. You've heard very little about this mage save for the fact that they tend to favor those from their own base order. A Daybreaker mage, probably the most logical and pragmatic of anyone here.

You enter the waiting room and see several young mages sitting around a fire rune. You instantly recognize one of them, a childhood friend of yours before you and your brother were kidnapped.

"By the light of the moon!" He stands up and holds out his arms as he rushes to you.

"Luan, it's good to see you," you hug him as he picks you up off the ground.

He swings you back and forth before setting you down, "I know you said in your last letter that you were coming to the capital soon but I never imagined that you meant you'd be coming here."

"And what about you? When were you going to tell me that you got accepted to High Tower?" you playfully shove him.

"It was meant to be a surprise for when you got here," He grins.

You laugh and shake your head, "I can't believe we'll both be studying here."

Luan nods and his sweet smile slowly fades, "Yes, well and then there's that."

You raise a brow and before you can ask him what he's talking about an elderly mage calls for him for his interview.

"That'd be me, we'll talk about it later," Luan smiles and waves you goodbye.

Though it was brief, seeing Luan has eased your nerves a great deal. You two became mages around the same time. You were both rescued by Hendrick however Luan had a knack for shadow and dark magic so he joined the newly reformed Order of Night. The both of you kept in close contact when you were separated and always sent each other gifts for birthdays and holidays.

He'll probably be the only one here who won't laugh at the fact that you're from the Order of Delight.

You roll your eyes and take his place in the circle around the fire rune. The other mages there eye you with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

"So...," one of them speaks up, a girl with a badge from the Order of Despair. "A bard? How the hell did you get accepted?"

Here we go, you sigh.

"I have a knack for illusion magic and spell song craft like most bards but I got tired of the old spells that didn't have much practical or everyday use so I invented new ones. The elders here heard about what I was doing and had me test in," you explain.

To be honest it's a half truth, the Order of Delight has a hidden book of spells that The Dirge has full access to. All the spells in it are unregistered so no one would be able to track them back to another mage. You were told to use three or four from the book for your qualifying spells but instead of taking credit you took inspiration. You invented thirty new spells but only sent in seven. Thirty would be too suspicious.

"Sounds like you should have tried for the Daybreak order, practicality is their specialty," another mage chimes in.

"I would have but my family wouldn't let me," you shrug. An easy excuse, most mage families like to stick to the same order.

"Ugh I get that," the girl from the Order of Despair groans. "My folks were the same way, I have light magic and know a few healing spells but no, I had to honor tradition learn mind speak and dream bending. Gods I hate traditionalist. My names Ruya by the way."

You introduce yourself and tell her your fabricated backstory, one that's a bit more cheerful and normal.

A couple other mages open up to you, both from the Order of Bones, Tarek and Ilta... Twins. They both wore the standard skull tattoos on their faces though it looked more menacing on Tarek. They both wanted to join the Order of Delight since they're strong in illusion magic but of course their clan refused them. You knew there was an issue with traditionalist but you had no idea that it was that bad.

"Tarek Falswith," the elderly mage calls to one of your new acquaintances.

He stands tall and stretches, his short black hair shining in the light of the fire rune making his skull tattoo all the more wicked. He glances down at you and smiles, "See ya later bard."

His sister laughs as he walks away, "Just ignore him, he's a stupid flirt. Got himself in trouble time and time again back at our Order."

"Noted," you laugh. "Not looking for love here anyways."

"Not the best place to find it honestly," Ruya adds.

"Our older sister is a third year here and oh the stories she could tell you," Ilta begins. You and Ruya listen to the tales of the twins' sister Asra and her encounters with the opposite sex.

And as she spins her tales, one by one the young male mages are called off to interview until there's only the three of you. Ruya gets called while Ilta is recounting the time her sister wore a deer skull for a month even while she slept and ate to freak out a few of her admirers.

"She sounds crazy," you laugh.

"Oh yes, most say she should have gone into the Order of Twilight with how chaotic she is. But alas-"

"Tradition," both of you say then laugh.

"Ilta Falswith," the elderly mage calls.

Ilta mimics her brother, adding in a wink and the both of you giggle.

"See ya later bard," Ilta mocks her brother again but her voice sounds just like his.

You can't help but to be amazed and amused all at once and laugh as she walks away.

And then it's just you, or so you though.

"Good evening Thaneswell," an elderly voice rumbles your last name.

From the center of the fire run circle a figure slowly appears. An elderly man seated on a simple wooden stool. He's wearing a worn greyish blue cloak with a silver badge from the Order of Daybreak. His eyes are a milky white and his boney fingers tap gently on his lap.

Realizing who he is, you quickly stand up and bow your head.

"None of that now, none of that," He waves a hand and the fire rune dissipates. Ever so slowly he stands up, circling his hand in the air until a staff appears and falls into his hand.

"There is no need to bow amongst kin," he smiles.

You thought it was odd that you and one of the highest mages of the Order of Daybreak shared the same last name, it had to be a coincidence right?

"I did my own digging, my late brother was your maternal grandfather. He was a mage of the same order you belong to, and the same sect as well," He straightens as he starts circling you.

Your nerves reignite and you feel your gut sink.

"The family Thaneswell is not traditional and has members across every order there is. You of course wouldn't know this as your mother passed before you and your late brother were of age. This was," He waves his hand to another door that slowly opens on its own.

"Then my acceptance?" you ask.

"By your own skill, I'm not apart of the qualifying department. I put young mages where they need to be. Skilled and bright mages come here all the time to break from tradition and free themselves from bonds of a family or order. You met three such mages today did you not?" He asks as he lights up the room with a flick of his wrist.

The small room is filled with light crystals and fairy bobbles that produce a soft warm glow. Nic knacks of all sorts both mundane and magical line the shelves and a fat horned cat stretches across the large oak desk.

"Have a seat wherever you can find one," he chuckles as he lowers himself into a puffy armchair.

You turn and look for a chair but you only see mounds of books, small side tables and a taxidermy deer. Small side table it is.

Grabbing a table you pull it up close to the side of the desk as the front is occupied by an old dire wolf laying on a large pillow.

"Now then, let's get down to business. First off within close quarters you may call me uncle, I'd prefer it since we're family. You are after all the only closest living relative I have now," He sighs.

"Wait but you said our family has members in every order," you recall.

"Yes and because of that most of us have become estranged. My brother and his kept close but as the years went by, they were picked off one by one. I only learned of your existence after Hendrick rescued you. I'm so sorry about your brother... had I known... Why your mother never said anything..." he pauses and you see the grief on his face.

"She kept us close to the forest border, in one of the dump villages," you tell him.

His wrinkled face crumples and cringes, "By the gods why would she do that?"

"Hendrick said that the likelihood of us getting kidnapped at a dump village would be slim since the sick and dying are rarely ever kidnapped," you shrug.

"I'm so sorry, there must be more to this... I just know it but at least you're as well as well as can be," He sighs. "Now then, you're a member of The Dirge sect. Very few high mages know of it and I'm only privy of your mission as I'm the one who hired a mage to carry it out. It must have been Hendrick who threw your name in for it."

You blink once, twice and your mouth gapes wide open, "You're the one who- Wait a moment, you know why I'm here then and-"

"The alchemist rings are more corrupt than you can imagine. Both registered and unregistered, back alley and black market. If things continue on as is our nation will have the largest human trafficking outbreak in history. The Western Empire is already calling on our king to put an end to it since citizens of the empire have gone missing in the past few years. They've been putting more and more pressure on his majesty by raising taxes on goods and banning travel between our countries," he taps the desk before slamming his hand down.

"And the laws he made banning unregistered alchemy have been nothing more than a joke, I know. The Dirge has brought down at least fifty rings in the last few years but there seems to be no end to them. What in gods name are they after?" you lean forward, hoping your uncle will have some sort of answer.

"The same foolish thing the registered alchemists are after, immortality. Or at the very least, the next best thing. Long and youthful life, like that of a fae," he waves his hand and a book flings off the shelf and flies right to you.

"The War of Iron and Blood, a history book?" you start to pry the book open but it flings itself to a page near the very end.

"The book leaves out the most important part until the end. A fae specializing in Blood magic was caught and arrested. He is immune to iron and is able to heal himself if he wishes. Since those days long long ago, he has been held here, has been studied, has been bled for research with no real end in sight. I can only imagine what little hope he has if any," the high mage looks up towards the door.

A soft knock rasps the old wooden door, "Mage Thaneswell, it's Dargan, you called for me?"

"Yes yes, come in," your uncle flicks his finger and the door opens.

A tall and lanky mage shuffles in and slowly removes his hood. His skull tattoo looks rather odd on his face with how sunken in his eyes are and how gaunt he is.

"As you'll need to be focusing on your upcoming graduation I've decided to pass off your job to this first year. As you know all fourth years are to hand off their jobs to the new students. I've already given her a history lesson, the rest is up to you Dargan. Oh and once you're done, you'll be allowed a three week respite to recover," the high mage looks to you and nods towards the other mage.

Dargan bows a few times to your uncle and thanks him over and over before he grasps your shoulders, "Of course, yes, I'll get them up to speed and have them trained before then end of the day! Leave everything to me Mage Thaneswell."

"Yes and oh, once you're done could you give my niece a tour of the grounds? I'd do it myself but these old bones don't move like they used to," he smiles.

The Bone mage looks at you and then at the high mage, "Niece? Oh uh yes, yes of course."

Your uncle smiles and waves you off, "I'll be calling you back for a visit soon but please come and see me of your own accord when you can."

Dargan shuffles you out of the office and the door closes behind the both of you. His wide eyes look down at you as he continues to rush you out of the waiting room and down the tower stairs.

"What a horrible thing to do," he shakes his head. "To his own flesh and blood."

"Wait what are you talking about?" you ask.

Dargan stops and grabs your wrist, "This way, not here."

He pulls you aside and leads you down a path that takes you to the North Tower. It hikes up the wall and into a breezeway. The Bone mage looks around and when he's sure no one is in sight he has the two of you sit on the stone cold floor.

"Tell me truly, is High Mage Thaneswell really your uncle?" he asks.

"Great uncle but I fear we're missing the point here so-"

"You're from The Dirge then?" Dargan asks.

Your eyes widen and you grit your teeth but nod.

Dargan lifts his sleeve and reveals a scythe, "The Order of Bones has a similar sect."

"Reapers, I've heard of them," you nod.

"Mage Thaneswell has been hiring from all mercenary sects to take care of the alchemist rings. Myself and four others have been slowly cleaning up the High Tower these last few years, it hasn't been easy." Dargan stars and lays his head against the wall. "I suppose I should begin with what will be expected of you."

The Bone mage details your upcoming job and schedule, the grim nature of it all unsettling you the more he speaks. You're to become the jailor to the captured blood fae. You are to feed him, check his vitals, and collect his blood. You are not to speak to him, not to listen to him if he utters a single word, and you are not allowed to let him bleed unless collecting his blood.

Fear coils in your belly as Dargan tells you all the horrid things the fae could do if he was allowed to bleed out. Slice you up with his blood, set his cell on fire, undo the runes cast upon his chains or turn his blood into weapons and massacre the entire Tower. High Mage Thaneswell doesn't want that, he just wants him to take down the alchemists.

"Your uncle believes if we can find a way to free him that he'll be in our debt and will by the laws of the fae carry out the bounty against the alchemists," Dargan sighs. "Quite the pipe dream huh?"

"Very much so, but fae are keener on magic and can track down different users way better than mage hounds. Plus, he'll have a personal vendetta against them so he might be all for it," you agree and lay your head back as well.

"Still kinda fucked up that he's making his niece take on this job though," Dargan puffs. "But he must have his reasons."

"It's probably because I'll work closely with the Tower's alchemist ring. The more eyes on them the better," you note.

"True, but I rarely spoke with them and even if I showed any interest they kept me mostly in the dark. Get the blood, hand over the blood, and leave. That was the preferred sequence of things," he shrugs.

"Well, fuck..." you groan as you sag against the wall.

Dargan laughs and fishes something out of his pocket, "Here, it's a pass to the Tower. You'll need this to get in, get to the third level and to the cell."

You take the pass and grimace as the blood red runes carved into the small black iron tablet. You could feel the magic resonating off of it, feel it draining a tiny bit of your life essence. You quickly wrap it in your cloak.

"Disgusting, isn't it? They say the pass doubles to strengthen the runes on the Blood Fae's cell. I've tried my best not to over handle it but sometime the alchemists will examine the pass and if there's not enough life in it, they'll make you hold it all day. This job is super fucked up," Dargan snarls and slowly stands then offers his hand.

"Thanks for the heads up I guess," you allow him to help you up then stretch. "Anything else that I should be worried about?"

Dargan shrugs, "Not really, well that's a lie. I'd worry about you dorm placement. Mage Thaneswell pulled some strings and had me bunking with other mercs but I'm not sure how many he's hired this time around."

You nod knowing that it costs a lot to keep up this kind mission. You don't know if he's being funded by the King or if this is his own personal project but hiring you alone costs over three thousand gold.

"I'll introduce you to the alchemists and show you where the cell is real quick before I show you the grounds. Since it's hardly midday we have some time before your sorting," he beckons you to follow and leads you back out of the breezeway.

He takes you back down the wall path and towards the Central Tower, a massive and ancient mage tower built over a thousand years ago before the great culling of the Order of Night.

You feel the magic rolling off in droves with every step you take. The different auras confusing your senses and causing your gut to roil. Dargan places a supporting hand on your shoulder and holds up a hand before chanting a spell that shields the both of you from the onslaught of magic.

"Overwhelming isn't it? Someone here will cast a longer lasting shield on you once you start working. Try not to throw up on the stairs if you feel the shield fading, not only will they make you clean it up but they'll have you manually clean to toilets too," Dargan cringes.

"Sounds like you've been through a lot of hell here," you grimace.

"Hell would be nice in comparison. There's no graces here, no mercy nor kindness to be found. The Central Tower is where mages are truly tested, young and old. Are you certain you can handle this?" Dargan takes a step back and looks at you.

There's real concern on his face, something you feel like you haven't seen in ages. His dull dark red eyes search your face for hesitance and close once he realizes that there's none.

"I have my own reasons for being here, personal and sad as they are," you shrug. "But things can't continue on like they have been."

He nods his head and continues up the stairs, "Fair enough, well then, welcome to the Central Tower." Dargan flourishes his hand and bows. Turning on his heals he points to a bulky guard leaning against the wall, "And this good fellow is Max."

Dargan exchanges introductions between the two of you and has you show the pass. Max opens the barred door to the tower where you're ushered up a series of staircases till you reach the third floor. You're introduced to another guard, Gildred, who you show your pass to. Before you're able to say farewell, Dargan leads you into the third floor lab and quickly shuts the door.

You try and catch your breath but the Bone mage drags you along and takes you down a hall that leads you to a circular room. Several mages clad in maroon cloak turn and glare at you.

"Dargan... has it really been four years?" One of them asks.

"Yes high mage Cragsith. This is my replacement, young mage Thaneswell," he introduces you.

"A Thaneswell? And of.... The Order of Delight? How... Amusing," High mage Cragsith chuckles. "Very well, I assume she's been educated?"

"Yes high mage, of course," Dargan bows his head.

"Good, then you may leave. Estan will show her to the cell, you should hurry and take your respite. I know exams will be starting next month," He waves Dargan off with a limp hand.

Dargan bows and exits with haste, leaving you alone with the High Tower's alchemists.

"You've caught us at an excellent time, we're needing a fresh batch of blood. Estan will take you down and show you the ropes," Cragsith beckons to a hunched figure.

"Follow me," Estan orders and shuffles towards the middle of the room. He places his hand on the central supporting pillar and a door appears shortly after. It opens to reveal a lift that will take you down to the Tower's prison.

Estan tells you that all vials are kept in a desk outside the fae's cell and on a normal day that you'll receive a slip with how many you are to fill.

"He's basically docile at this point. Hasn't been an incident in over two hundred years. It's an easy job, just taxing as I'm sure Dargan has mentioned," Estan says in an oddly comforting way.

Once you're down under the tower and exit the lift, Estan leads you to the fae's cell. He pulls out nine vials from a drawer in the desk and checks them for cleanliness, "Don't want anything but his blood in these."

After his inspection he has you place the pass in a slot on the wall next to the cell. You fell just the faintest bit of your life force slip as the locks turn and door opens ever so slightly.

There's a dank smell that wafts in your nose and the sudden charge in the air has every hair standing on edge.

Estan hands you eight of the vials to hold as he escorts you in. You fear that you might find a horrid and fiendish fae as Dargan lead you to believe but instead all you see is a sad one, bound in chains and leathers with living runes.

What was probably once lovely long flowing black hair is now matted and tangled in several areas. His eyes and mouth are covered with greyish leather that have ancient magic imbued in them. His skin is sickly pale and nails are curled from neglect.

The fear and nerves you felt entering this place disappear and are quickly replaced with pity and then something else. A deep need to free him settles into you and it's one that's beyond your mission or any ethical reason. You feel sicked and in pain at seeing him like this.

"It's just a quick prick right here, same spot every time," Estan interrupts your thoughts as he points to a tattoo of a circle on the fae's arm. As he goes to poke it you quickly ask if you can.

"I learn better by doing is all, that and I want to do well with this job," you say with full fake determination.

Estan chuckles and hands his vial and needle over to you, "I get it, I was the same when I was a student here. Not going to lie, but you're the first Cragsith has really acknowledged this fast, well aside from myself. Maybe he sees some promise in you."

Or maybe he's warry of me being a Thaneswell, you think.

Not wanting to drop your facade, you go and draw the fae's blood.

Bile quickly threatens your throat but you do well in holding back the vomit.

This feels so wrong that it's hard to stomach, is this a curse that the fae has in place? Why didn't Dargan tell you? Maybe you'll ask your uncle later... But first, to fill the other eight vials.

It takes all your strength and will power not to throw up while extracting the fae's blood but you somehow manage. After Estan takes you back up to the third floor and sings praises about your enthusiasm do you ask to be shown to the bathroom.

Once your stomach is empty you resolve to find and beat Dargan black and blue for leaving out the part about wanting to blow chunks when extracting blood.

You stomp your way out of the central tower and down the path to the east but quickly stop in your tracks when a notice echoes through the grounds.

"All first years to the North Tower for dorm sorting. I repeat all first years to the North Tower for dorm sorting," the voice rang.

And before you could take another step you found yourself being lifted for a moment, cold dark air rushing around you, and then you were set back down amongst a crowd right outside the North Tower.

A few others look around in confusion but for the most part people just shrug it off as typical tower magic.

"Hey, over here," you here a familiar voice.

You turn and see Ruya with Ilta, Tarek, and Luan. Quite the odd ball group but you're about to make it weirder, being a bard and all.

"I heard you got to go to central tower, how was it?" Tarek asks.

"And who'd you hear that from?" you raise a brow at him and he grins.

"From a senior of my sect, Dargan," he smiles and shows his reaper mark.

Before you can ask, Ruya, Ilta, and even Luan all flash their arms with the subsect marks on them. They all tell you how they each ran into their seniors here and took on jobs close to or in the central tower. The twins have jobs in the library near the central tower, Ruya brings meals up for the alchemists, and Luan is set to clean the equipment for the central tower.

"Dargan said there's a high chance that we'll get bunked with other subsect members as the Dorm Matron works directly with high mage Thaneswell," Tarek smiles and looks at Luan, "No weird shadowy shit."

"Then I hope you'll keep your knives and bones on your side of the dorm," Luan smiles.

Ilta smacks her brother's arm and Ruya rolls her eyes.

You can feel this group's dynamic setting in place already.

"All first years, dorm mothers will be coming around with dorm assignments. These assignments are final and we expect no complaints. Once you have you receive your dorm and room token you will be teleported there. Potions for teleportation sickness are on the stands outside the rooms if needed," another announcement rings.

Your group looks around for dorm mothers, all middle aged or elderly mages wearing light blue cloaks with yellow ribbons. You've heard many stories about the dorm mothers here and how even the highest mages offer their respects to them. They're truly a force to be reckoned with.

"Here you are... Thaneswell's bunch," A dorm mother approaches your group and looks everyone up and down before turning to Tarek and Luan. "The two of you will go to Mother Margo's dorm, you'll be bunking in room eleven. Here are your tokens."

The two of them reach out their hands with slight hesitation but once they touch the tokens, they vanish.

"I have to say, that's gotta be the second fastest I've seen my brother disappear," Ilta smiles.

"What was the fastest then?" Ruya asks.

"When he found out he broke up with the head Reaper's daughter," Ilta laughs.

"You three," the dorm mother glares at us and then at Ilta, "I expect you to be prompt, never out past curfew, and not a meal skipped. I am your dorm mother, Mother Beatrice. You'll each have your own rooms, connecting. Seven, eight, and nine."

You look at the girls but before either can say anything, Ruya reaches out for her token and vanishes. Ilta smiles at you and shrugs before taking hers. Taking a deep breath in you reach for room token nine and feel yourself being flung around.

Left and right, right then right again. You feel as if you're passing through sheets like a child running through laundry on a sunny day. Warm and cold air take turns at slapping your body before you suddenly snap to a stop and your body slams right into a door with a hard thud.

"Ow," you moan as you peel yourself off the door. Your face stings where it met the hard wood.

You look around and see Ruya doubled over holding an empty potion bottle with Ilta rubbing her back.

"Going to be alright over there?" you ask.

Ruya nods but stays down.

"She was slung into her stand and it knocked the wind out of her," Ilta winces.

"This is why I hate teleportation, too volatile and under studied. Now I know why the fae rarely use it themselves," you cringe at the thought of being teleported again anytime soon.

After the three of you check yourselves over for any wounds and sickness you part to your own rooms.

Your room is cozy and well furnished. A few wooden boxes lay on your bed with a few notes. The first note is a greeting from the towers and what to expect in the coming days. The second is from Mother Beatrice with a list of rules and a meal schedule. The third is from the central tower... A letter just for you.

"Good evening young Thaneswell,

We welcome you to the central tower and have high hopes for you. Estan spoke highly of you and your eagerness, a most welcomed delight, as Dargan was most melancholic. Estan will continue to escort you to the cell for the next ten days as he trains you. We look forward to having a mage with your enthusiasm."

You feel your stomach churn as you finish reading the letter. You quickly crumple it up and toss it in the waste bin.

Something about being on their good side this quickly unsettles you but you'll do your best to turn it around and use it to your advantage. You can't let this continue, too many innocent lives are at stake and you're not sure how much longer your great uncle can keep funding missions like this.

With that resolve you go through the boxes next, supplies and a uniform. Papers, books, ink, and pens. A first year's dark brown cloak and knee high boots with metal plates on the toes and knees. There's a map with local shops and a post office where mages who come to study can send letters and receive parcels.

Next you notice a small wooden box with a stamp from the West tower. You open the lid and see a small mirror, a pouch, a dagger, and a note. You quickly unfold the note and it has instructions on how to use the mirror.

"Use the dagger to prick your finger and sign this rune with your blood. I will be alerted that you wish to speak with me. Only use this in your room or in dire emergencies."

You have a gut feeling that he wants you to try it out know so you prick your finger and write out the rune on the mirror. Within seconds it lights up and an image of your uncle shoots up from it.

"I'm glad my gift has found you. Though I wish we could chat longer I have the head Matron of the dorms coming up to see me. I'll keep this short, get the fae to speak. Get him to talk, get him to listen, and get him on our side," your uncle orders.

You nod but feel sick as you do, "Understood, but I must ask, is there a curse on him?"

The high mage's brows knit in confusion, "Why do you ask?"

"I...I took his blood and I felt sick and there was this wrongness. Like I couldn't stand that I was hurting him, it was odd," you mention.

Your uncle's eyes widen but he says nothing for a few moments too long, "No, no curse. Keep me updated on these, odd feelings. I must go now."

The image of your uncle vanishes and instead of getting an answer to your question, you feel like you've gained a long list of inquiries that will be left in the box.

"What have I gotten myself into," you groan as you flick your wrist and move your things off the bed so you can fling yourself onto it.

At least I'm not alone, you think as you curl up and slowly pass out.

[catherinemorales]

Forced marriage (at first) Y/N x Regulus Black slight alude to sex but nothing really

Y/N L/N sat at the table in front of her mother and father. Two stark looking people of a harsh demeanor. She had a blank face with her long hair pulled back her robes were black and long. Her fingers dainty with a single ring on her right finger. A ring given to her by her father when she first started Hogwarts. A promise from her to him that she would stay true to her family. And she had.

Her mother was quiet and her father was about to speak. He looked impatient as if he was waiting for something and he was. For the clock behind Y/N to strike 10:00 and the quietness of the room allowed for the ticking of this clock to be heard by anyone with ears. Finally when the hands aligned to make the time stop the doors were pushed open.

Y/N new what would happen soon enough. Her days had been numbered since they started. The boys she played with as a child would no longer be her friends but,

“Y/N”

She looked up.

“This is Mrs. Black and her son Regulus.”

She stood up and bowed. All this old fashioned tradition that had been on display for as long as she could remember.

“Hello Mrs. L/N and Y/N”

Y/Ns mom quickly motioned for her daughter to leave the room and so she did with Regulus falling behind.

She knew that the boy was behind her so she took him not to her room but the manors library. She sat down on one of the fancy leather seats and pulled out her book from under her robes.

“Hmm Regulus?”

“Yes?”

“What dare you say they are meeting about?”

“Do you not know?”

“Know that topic that has been spoken about for only my entire life. The aspect to which I will become anew.”

They stayed quiet for a moment before she got up and walked over closer to the tall boy.

“Yes I know.” She looked up at him. The pale boy she had seen her entire life at every gala and event she could remember. The boy with curly black locks that towered over her. The one who she had seen win quidditch games at school. The one she had been partnered with for tests and potions who she had seen in the library dozens of times. The boy who had been there in the shadow of his older brother only his entire life.

“Show it to me” she demanded as she stared into his deep eyes.

Regulus looked startled. And yet he felt as if he had to give in. As if she was in control of him. He lifted his shirt sleeve up and showed the mark to her.

“Hmm. Takes courage. Tell me did it hurt?”

He looked puzzled was she joking. She rolled her robes up to show her mark as well.

“Only wondering he says it shouldn’t. Of course it’s not like he has one to know how it felt.”

She smiled at him. The first smile he had seen someone with her demeanor have.

“Atleast your good looking. Can you imagine if I had to marry one of the lestrange brothers?”

He laughed. She grabbed his wrist.

“Come sit. Knowing our mothers we will be here a while.”

They sat together on a sofa she pulled her book out again to read. Whether Regulus read or not she would always wonder. She didn’t want to stare to much. She was sure she would have plenty of time for that throughout her life. She truly didn’t care what regulus looked like but had she been given a choice she most likely would have chosen him. Someone with intelligence who, hopefully would treat her slightly decently.

Eventually he left and she was alone in her room. But things were different now. No longer did she have that simple band around her finger on her right hand. Instead a silver ring with a green gem laid there on her other hand her left hand on her ring finger. Her wedding finger.

She was told that they would be married before their 7th year started. That everyone would know and they would share a room. That as soon as school was over they were required to have a child and that her life was officially his. She would no longer be a L/N she was now a Black. She was his Black.

Days went on as normal except her days were numbered. And slowly they started to change. She was forced to try on her wedding gown and look at different so called important items for her future. Of course she didn’t know Regulus was going through the same thing. They were similar in that they were alone at heart.

The days all morphed together until the big day. The ceremony that all purebloods went to. It was the big sacred 28 wedding.

Regulus stood at the altar he had a blank face. His hair was brushed back and he was in all black. There were no chairs there were two sides full of people in traditional black dress robes and dresses a wizard priest and on the very other side was Y/N. She wore a long white dress. It covered her arms and her neck. And she had a vail in front of her face. Her hair was pulled into a long braid. She was hard to see. And she walked next to their dark lord. She eventually got up to the altar where Regulus stood. She looked up and their eyes met. As quickly as they had gone together they came apart.

Of course their lord had a speech and Y/N and Regulus then were forced to hold their arms side by side. Their dark marks next to each other and the a spell was said and the snakes met each other in the air.

And then the part they dreaded the most the seal of it all. When it was said for them to kiss. For them it was this or death. And so Regulus bent down and kissed her. It was fast and yet slow. And for some reason neither one of them wanted it to end and yet it did.

The day had many other rituals and spells throughout it. And at the end was Y/N and Regulus sat together at the edge of a bed. A bed neither of them had ever been in. Or seen. Scared they both were. She wanted to cry. And if he was honest so did he. They had both been told what to do. He knew his job and she knew hers. But now that they were there sat on the white silky sheets in his suit and her gown everything had changed.

“I’m scared.” She whispered.

“So am I.” They turned from each other and slowly discarded their clothes until they were both under the sheets with just their bodies.

“Y/N we don’t have to we can find a way.”

“They’re gonna know if we don’t.” She looked at him. And almost for the first time she really saw him. The boy she had always known was no longer a boy he was a man a pale tall man. And he saw that she was no longer a girl but a woman with long hair and a real body.

“I won’t hurt you.”

“I know” and suddenly they locked eyes. And they moved closer. And although neither of them knew anything slowly he pulled her on top of him. And he pushed her hair out of her face and she put her hands around him and he kissed her. It was gentle and although they had just kissed hours ago it felt new.

They stayed close and he was gentle. He kissed her again and slowly he rolled over. And she was under him and he was over her and he kissed her moth and then her neck and suddenly things became easier. and when the time came that he pushed into her she didn’t cry like she thought she would. And she held onto him. The pain was there like she had been told but it wasn’t the same that had been described to her. The pain was new and almost warm. He wasn’t warm but this was warm.