#but now my arm needs rest augh

[alicenpai]

the girl from the other side ✨ this series gave me hope a million times but simultaneously shattered my heart into the same amount of pieces </3 (flower symbolism under cut)

sticker sheet for anime north 🍀🥧🖤🤍

SPOILERS AHEAD

forget me not - obvious reference to the Black Children and how they eventually forget who they are as they near the end of their "life cycle".

white clover (in coffin) - white clovers typically symbolize innocence.

4 leaf clover - like I wrote in a previous post on my Witch Hat Atelier seasons piece, the 4 leaf clover symbolizes luck and good fortune. Like Coco, Shiva to her loved ones is a symbol of fortune, though to the Inside Kingdom, a symbol of misfortune.

sunflower - typically symbolize strength and warmth, a fitting flower for Shiva, the light illuminating Teacher's dark past.

nasturtium - another flower symbolizing strength, and has strong ties to the "victory" after battle. apparently soldiers used to don them as a sign of a long battle won. fun fact they are also edible (don't take my post for nutritional advice please) (ill probably write a bit more on this topic when my head is more clear)

[milkweedman]

TDF DAY 2 (june 30)

Onto the fancy jacob lambswool. This wool is ridiculously soft and fine even for a non-jacob fleece, but for a jacob it's almost unbelievable. Were it not for the fact that it's clearly piebald I would be very suspicious that it is actually rambouillet or some other fine wool. But it's jacob and I'm even more fond of it for that.

Anyway, for my first attempt I wanted to see how distinct I could keep the colors while still combing it all at once. I did white on one side, gray in the middle, and brown on the other side. Definitely didn't homogenize but also didn't stay distinct at all, so if I want a nice barberpole through the colors I probably need to comb each color separately and then just spin them all together.

I spun most of this one on a drop spindle until I fully destroyed my right shoulder like an idiot (an idiot who now can't raise it's hand without its shoulder dislocating instantly), and switched to supported. Supported was definitely less painful, but I'm still having the issue of not being able to keep my arm upright for long enough to make a lot of progress. So, this will need to be spun on a wheel.

Will benefit from being plied on a wheel too I think.

Mostly because it's thin enough that I really cannot visually tell how much twist I'm adding (and nor can I feel it because it's so thin and soft you really can't feel a single ply.) At least with a wheel I have an easier time being consistent, so I think I could get a much much better yarn on my wheel. That'll probably have to wait for next weekend, idk.

Anyway, here's the finished skein, steam blocked and twisted up. It's 1/10th of an ounce and 23 yards (3 grams and 21 meters). Way denser than I was hoping for. I can probably go a bit thinner, but I did think my average with this fleece would be thinner right off the batt.

Not sure how I'm going to go about spinning the rest of tdf. Maybe I'll try waking up early (well... earlier. I already wake up at 5am for work) to spin before I leave. I don't seem to be able to use spindles anymore without extreme pain... problem is the same is also true to an extent of my wheel. My body is such a piece of buzz killing garbage, but whatever. I will figure something out as I am not yet emotionally ready to have to quit doing tdf. Probably next year I will not have a choice, but hey ! Not thinking about it.

Probably gonna spend the rest of the day knitting something with this laceweight to see how it works up.

[jen-with-a-pen]

(In Your) Arms Tonight - 1/2

summary: Hypothesis: If he (Wade) turns off the AC, then they (Wade and Logan) will have no choice but to strip naked and end up sticky and gross and hard together!

That's what he was taught in middle school, right?

pairing: Logan Howlett x Wade Wilson / Worst Wolverine x Deadpool

word count: 1.3k

warnings: MDNI 18+, Wade's POV-ish, blood mention, knife mention, beer mention, Wade's fuckin horny and thirsty y'all, pining, cursing, claws, Wade is looking ✨respectively✨, crude humor and language, slight Deadpool and Wolverine spoilers, no smut (yet, sorry)

a/n: AUGH DONT LOOK AT ME (actually please do I cannot hold this in any longer.) currently part one of two parts. posting the first one now as I am currently traveling for work and won't be back until beginning of September and then part two will be out when i either A. Get home or B. Finish it and format it in between running around like a chicken with my head cut off. Please be patient with me! I will not tolerate "whEreS PaRt Two?¿??" when I literally just told you. Hope y'all enjoy one of the many products of my brain rot. More to come in due time ✨

Not beta'd. Written on my phone and edited via gdocs. Post formatted on mobile because I don't wanna use my work computer lmao

Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes!

If I've missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!

gif by @tomshiddles | dividers by @saradika-graphics | warning banner by me ❤️

My AO3 | My Masterlist

Read this fic HERE on AO3

❤️ Reblogs and comments are appreciated, as always ❤️

PART ONE | PART TWO

The abs are great. More than great, actually. In fact, they're all Wade thinks, dreams, and fantasizes about. All day, everyday, non-fucking-stop. The moment replays over and over in his fucked up noodle brain like a scratched record. He knows muscle memory is a thing, but what about salivatory memory?

Christ. He's gotta get a grip instead of getting hard.

But what about when Logan isn't flexing hard enough to rip his goddamn suit off?

Wade notices Logan becoming more relaxed around the apartment as the days pass. Adjusting to his new life, coming out of the bedroom earlier than he has to on days when he gets a turn to sleep on a real bed. It's Sofa City most of the time– which he really doesn't mind, he almost prefers it most of the time (since it's in clear sight of the front door) but Wade more often than not likes to insist they share his 'much-too-big-for-lil-old-me' twin XL mattress that's seen more stains than sex in the last year alone.

Logan's compromise is he'll take the bed and Wade the couch half the time. Alone. They're still working on the negotiations of said compromise, but the jury– Blind Al– is still out on recess.

Once he's more settled in, Logan learns that it's okay to kick off his boots and put his feet up. It's not often, but enough that Wade silently wishes he'd rest those big meaty calves on his lap instead. He's been needing a new weighted blanket and Adamantium-coated tibias and hairy legs are so in right now.

Logan doesn't know it, but Wade secretly plays 'ohmygodhetotallylookedatme' whenever he so much as catches a glimpse of Wade oggling at him in his peripherals. Wade can't help it when Broody and the Beast's ribbed white muscle shirt pulls taut against those deliciously plump pecs that he silently prays it'll burst off again. Or he'll rip it off. Or Logan will rip it off. For him.

A boy can dream.

It's especially hard to win at 'OMGHTLAM' when Logan accessorizes– AKA throwing on whatever flannel is in rotation out of the several he finds at the thrift store a few blocks over. Wade feels his throat tighten like his jeans do when Logan wears the forest green one. Really brings out his eyes.

And smile. And lips. And–

It's still summer, so on the hotter days, when sweat glistens on his brow and Wade desperately wishes to be the back of Logan's hand, the tank top comes off. All Logan's sweaty, gloriously muscular body has on is a wonderfully worn-in pair of jeans with the hem of black briefs poking out behind the denim waist.

Do they have AC? Yes. Because Wade would have to plan a funeral for Al if they didn't.

But when she's out and about, he likes to turn it off and let the New York heat wave run its course. Sure, it leaves him sticky and gross, but he'd rather be sticky and gross and hard when he can help it.

Luckily, Blind Al is gone for the whole weekend. Some girls trip or a drug mule job. Same difference.

Hypothesis: If he (Wade) turns off the AC, then they (Wade and Logan) will have no choice but to strip naked and end up sticky and gross and hard together!

That's what he was taught in middle school, right?

With the push of a button and a sprinkle of patience, Logan is splayed out on the couch in a matter of hours with a lukewarm beer in hand while fighting his eyelids from dozing off to some random war documentary. Sweat beads on his temples and there's a slight sheen to his skin from his biceps to the lower V pointing down to between his thighs. He chuckles every so often, mumbling things to himself between swigs of beer and shaking his head when the narrator gets something 'wrong.'

Wade busies himself in the kitchen but his eyes are permanently glued to his roommate. He doesn’t miss the way Logan's stomach rises and falls gently, the rock-hard six pack softening into rolling hills of muscle with a layer of dark hair covering as much surface area as immortal-like hormones will allow. Grown out beard, chops, and messy hair really throw the whole look together; very 2000s, if you ask Wade. His pecs look just as soft as a pair of titties, if not softer, and Wade knows it. He'd do anything to lay his perfect little head on Logan's chest. Maybe lick it too, if he's a good boy. 

Logan perks up suddenly from the couch.

Oh God did he say that out loud?

"Wade?"

Wade doesn't hear him. Can't hear him. Half-refuses to hear him, honestly. Daydreaming takes up a whole lotta brain power and this show isn't running itself. Economy, budget cuts, unprecedented times. You know the shtick. 

"Wade."

Nothing but a bead of drool comes out of Wade's mouth. 

Suddenly, there's a crash right behind Wade's head and now he's awake. He whips around to the ale-spattered wall behind him and back to Logan, who's now standing with claws drawn and chest heaving.

Wade swears he's blushing. 

Eyes wide and brow standing up straight like his good little soldier, Wade looks down at the counter before him to find a bloodbath of a scene: one hand's on a knife while the other spews blood all over the yellowed counter tops; there's remnants of a carrot that was finished five minutes ago, followed directly by remnants of fingers cut down to the last fucking knuckle and slice marks beginning down the back of his hand.

Wade holds up his spurting stump, gashed artery doing a spot-on impression of Ol' fucking Faithful.

"Oh. Huh. Thought I smelled something," he says, staring at his now-tingling hand. Baby fingers for the rest of the night were so worth the staring contest with Logan's beautiful body.

"Fuckin' idiot," Logan mutters, sheathing his claws and striding over to the hall closet to grab a towel. Wade's already stopped bleeding, but just because they might be immune to bloodborne pathogens doesn't mean Al is.

"Gah– get back, damn mutt." Logan shoos Dogpool out of the kitchen to prevent her from lapping up her papa's bodily fluids. He throws the towel in Wade's face and goes to grab the bleach out of the cupboard under the sink. Logan learned very quickly where to find it the first time this happened a month or two ago.

"Sorry baby, Mommy's got a boo-boo and Daddy's just trying to help," Wade coos at Dogpool. "You're too good to me, peanut. Someone oughta wife ya up before I do."

Logan responds with a scowl as he tosses the carrots out and tries to keep the counter from staining. "Why th'fuck did you do that?"

"It was time for a new hand. Old one was so last season."

Wade mops up the blood from his arm and wraps the towel onto his head like he's just gotten out of the shower. Holding up his regenerating stump, he poses like a cover model for Vogue.

"Whatcha think, peanut?" He strikes another pose. "Is this doing anything for ya, big boy?"

Logan grunts as he tosses a wad of paper towels into the trash can. He turns to leave the kitchen, eyes flicking to Wade. It's the quickest once over ever, but Wade sees it. Commits it to memory while he pulls a Flashdance in a chair from the kitchen table and follows Logan's denim-clad ass as it sways off to the bathroom. 

"'M gonna go shower. Don't wait up,” Logan calls before shutting the door and locking it. 

Sighing, Wade looks down at his crotch, pants tent pitched higher and tighter than a first-timer on Everest.

Good thing he's ambidextrous.

[infi8ity]

nsfw. | MDI.

∞

THE ORIGINAL PLAN FOR YOUR ONE-HOUR LUNCH BREAK WAS AS FOLLOWS— surprise toji at his tattoo parlor with chinese takeout, spend and enjoy time with your husband as you both eat said takeout and make it back to work before 2 pm.

you hadn’t even made it to step two when the plan quickly became— toji making you cum as many times as you could bear before 2 pm. it was 1:25 now. by this time, you had orgasmed twice.

but toji was ever determined to make it a third.

that's how you ended up in his back office at “cursed ink tattoo shop” on his peeling black leather sofa spread ass up; face down over the arm of the couch getting fucked stupid.

clothing and undergarments lay strewn haphazardly across the room, a testament to the fervor of the past few rounds. toji’s dominating presence was accentuated by the sheen of sweat glistening on his powerful form, each drop reflecting the dim light.

he held your hands firmly behind your back, his grip unyielding as he pressed them down, deepening the curve of your arch. with his free hand, he braced himself against the back of the sofa, his muscles tensed to maintain his balance and control.

with every thrust into you, you could feel your abused walls tightening around him. the pain was intense but the pleasure was far fucking greater.

“i can't quite--," your husband tenses in between his powerful strokes. "hear you, woman. speak up."

he knew what he was doing. when he fucked you like this— like a madman— you were always lost for words. the way he rammed his thickness into you at such a force, your only response was the loud lewd moans escaping your lips.

this doesn't suffice for toji.

with a deliberate, firm release of your wrists, his hand slides around to grasp your chin, his grip intense as he forces you to meet his gaze. he leans in, his breath mingling with yours, drawing your face closer to his until you’re mere breaths apart, a deep hunger in his navy eyes.

"should i stop? is that what you want? for me to stop fucking you?"

though his words are threatening, his pacing does not falter. he continues to pound his thick length into your soaking cunt.

"huh?" he growls, awaiting your response.

you choke on your moans. you felt unable to form a coherent sentence, thus furiously shaking your head in protest. "n-no. fuck- augh,"

"then let me fucking hear you, baby," he whispers in your ear. his hypnotizing tone sends shivers down your spine down to the pool between your legs. "wanna hear you scream my name mrs. fushiguro."

he loosens his grip on your chin and guides your forearms to rest on the arm of the sofa. pressing his body against your back, you can feel the slickness of sweat causing your bodies to cling together.

he leans in and plants a soft kiss on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin.

toji drastically slows his pace; allowing you to catch your breath and regain your composure. albeit further delaying your orgasm. you whine in complaint.

he gently shushes you, wrapping his muscular bicep around your barred throat. his touch is firm yet tender, applying just enough pressure to hold you in place while eliciting a soft, controlled choke.

he teasingly pulls out, thrusting himself agonizing slowly— back in. bottoming out, he asks, "whose dick is this?"

"mine." you sputter.

"thats right.” he drags his tip along the folds of your cunt. “whose pussy is this?"

"yours. all yours."

his hips connect with your ass. the force rocking you forward, a moan catching in your throat.

"good girl." he praises. he thumbs his fingers between your nipples. pinching and twisting softly. "who fucks you like this?"

"just you toji. only you baby. please, feels so good i'm gonna cum. was having a bad day, i need it.”

your responses seem to please him, as he speeds up his pace. he abandons his assault on your nipples and finds purchase on your clit. tracing circles against your bud.

"aww, my poor wife was having a bad day at work? maybe after i let you cum this third time, it'll get better." he drawls.

he wasn’t lying; work had built up a pent-up tension deep within you. If there was any way to release the stress weighing on your shoulders, toji was the perfect remedy.

as if reading your thoughts, he quickens his movements. your walls suck him in deeper, tightening well around him. his groans like music to your ears. "you feel so good y/n. you're so beautiful like this. 'm gonna nut from the sight of you. "

the praise gives you a boost of confidence as you were unable to differentiate what felt better? the pressure of him pinching and massaging your clit or the feeling of him massaging your guts and hitting all the right spots.

you rotate your hips around him, almost as if you were fucking him right back, and toji moans with you. you chant his name like a broken record. you can't help yourself. It's the only thing you can think of. him. him. him.

his arm tightens against your throat in response to you clenching around his length. your pussy pulsates, your orgasm nearing its release as he hits that one spot- over and over and—

in sync, you cry out as you cream around his dick; feeling toji’s hot loads shooting inside of you. your juices flowing together, coating your walls and spilling out of you as toji removes himself.

the room was filled with the sounds of panting as the two of you fought to catch your breath.

toji is the first to move. he presses soft kisses against your lips before he opts a glance at his wristwatch and stands.

“well then mrs fushiguro, it's one thirty-seven." he remarks, casually sauntering around the room in search of your scattered clothing. "i’d say we have fifteen minutes to fix you up, get some food in your stomach— Lords knows you’ve had enough of me in there,” you snort. “and on the way to work before two.”

he pads in front of you, in all his six foot two perfectly muscled glory. he was no longer erect, but that hadn't diminished his length in the slightest. he motions for you to take your clothing.

“wait,” you begin. he quirks a brow. “you made me cum three times. least i can do is give you one more so that we’re even. yeah?”

“you sure? ain't you hungry?” he asks, cupping your hands against his face. his thumb swiping across your parted lips. you captured his thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue against his finger. looking up at him beneath your lashes, you suck softly.

he pulls his thumb out of your mouth with a soft pop and groans. "hungry for something else that's for sure." you reply, eyeing his growing erection.

you grin lustfully as he runs his fingers through your hair, eventually grasping a fistful.

"fucking hell," he says under his breath; tossing your clothes to the side. "do your worst woman."

∞

© infi8ity. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

[mr-yuugo]

Find Out For Yourself

-Lilia Vanrouge x Reader [Gender Neutral]-

Words: 1,597

Summary: After a few frights, the reader finds out that Lilia really isn't a girl.

Posted this on my AO3 account as well as Wattpad!

Rain poured down from the thundering sky. You, Grim, and the two heartslabyul freshmen ran to the ramshackle dorm. "Myah! Henchman hurry up!" Grim growled in your arms. You were currently carrying him, shielding him as best you could from the rain. Beside you, Ace scowled. "Shut it Grim! Or I'll make the prefect put you down!"

At Ace's words, Grim shut up only letting a few grumbles leave his mouth. Finally arriving at the dorm's porch, Deuce was quick to open the door. You all hurried inside. "Augh finally out of the rain." Ace cheered. You nodded your head putting Grim down on the floor. "You boys stay here I'll go get towels for you to dry off."

Heading to your bathroom you reached for the towels you would need and quickly headed back to the lounge. You saw them taking off their coats and placing them messily on the floor. Handing them the towels you took the liberty of drying grim off before doing so yourself.

After you were all dry you all sat in the lounge. A sigh left Ace's lips as he pouted. "Great now we're stuck here..." Grim simply rolled his eyes. "You saying you rather be outside in the rain? Be my guest!" Grim said sticking out his tongue.

"Calm down you two." You groaned in annoyance, Deuce nodding his head. "Do calm down, I'm sure Y/N wouldn't care to throw both of you out if you kept being annoying." Deuce grinned.

"You wouldn't do that right Y/N..?" Ace mumbled as he slowly turned to you. Chuckling you hummed. "Who knows? Keep it up and I just might have to." Ace shivered at your words, deep down knowing you could if you really wanted to.

...

Thunderstruck as all of you talked in the lounge. Grim in your lap as you both shared a blanket. You and Grim had your backs turned to the window, sitting on the carpet resting your hands on the table in front of you.

Deuce and Ace shared another blanket as they sat on the couch. You all took turns telling scary stories. "Okay okay, have you heard about the ghost that haunts diasomnia?" Ace whispered to which Grim let out an annoyed grumble. "Please ghost stories? I thought you could do better than that. Me and Y/N literally live with them!"

"Hear me out, have you guys even been to their dorm?" Ace asked, you all shook your head from left to right. "Well, they say that when you first get sorted into diasomnia you always have trouble sleeping the first night..."

"Why is that?" Deuce spoke his voice quiet as he clung to the warmth the blanket gave him. "Well, there is a mysterious figure that watches them from the windows. Watching their every step to ensure they're fit to join diasomnia. And well you know how diasomnia is, it's so creepy and dark."

Thunderstruck once more as Grim jumped slightly in your lap. Grinning you spoke, "So do you think this ghost might terrorize other dorms?" You asked. "Eeek! Don't even say such a thing!" Grim scolded you as he clung to you. Ace laughed creepily as he nodded slowly. "I'm sure Y/N! I remember you saying that you would sometimes wake up to see stuff in your mirror right?"

You nodded and Deuce sat up straight. "You don't think it has something to do with the diasomnia ghost do you..?" Ace raised a brow, a teasing smirk on his face. "Is Deucey scared?" Deuce furrowed his brows. "Am not!" He said angrily. "Anyway, they say the creature appears upside down, almost like a bat. Just like tonight, thunder strikes causing a very small light to shine on the creature."

When Ace said that, your mind drifted. "Upside down like a bat..." You hummed. "Ah, that reminds me of that vice house warden..." You mumbled. Grim's ears perked up. "What vice house warden?" He asked.

"I'm not sure you remember but I first encountered them when we came back to the dorm after the whole scarabia showdown. They appeared out of nowhere, floating upside down. I believe their name was Lilia." Deuce let out a hum "Oh that is the name for diasomnia's vice house warden right?" Your memory came back to you as you eagerly nodded your head. "Yeah, that's it! Actually, I wanted to ask if-" An exceptionally loud thunderbolt halted your words.

Deuce's eyes widened as he nudged Ace. "D-did you see that?" He asked with his eyes going wide. "See what Deuce?" You asked him. You saw him nervously gulp. "On the window! I saw something floating around and I'm already telling you it was no bird or animal!" Grim crossed his paws, an annoyed look on his face. "Did the story really mess you up that bad?"

"No! I swear I saw someone! Did you see it, Ace?" Deuce asked. "No, I didn't stop messing around Deuce," Ace grumbled. "I promise I am not-"

BANG

Grim shrieked at the sound. "What was that?!" He yelled out, his claws going into your skin. Wincing you scolded him. "Stop it Grim! And Deuce it was probably nothing how about we all just calm down?" You saw something from the corner of your eye. Leaning your body back slightly you notice the previously closed door to the lounge is now open.

"Wasn't the door closed?" You asked as you got up from your spot on the carpet. Carrying Grim in your hands you left the blanket on the floor. "Oh please Y/N not you too. I swear it's probably nothing like you said." Ace rolled his eyes.

Getting closer to the door Grim clung to you tightly. "Why are you investigating it!? Haven't you seen the movies?" You stood in front of the open doors, looking to your right you quickly glanced up the stairs. Noticing nothing you walked through the hallway that led to the front door of the lounge.

"Y/N wait up! Don't leave me behind!" Deuce hurried up and began walking next to you. Ace also coming to walk with the three of you. "Look! The front door is open." Grim shrieked. Giving Grim to Ace you slowly walked up to the door and opened it fully. "Weird...there is no one here." You quietly said.

Deuce let out a sigh of relief. Turning your body to walk back to the lounge you came face to face with someone. "Hey there!" You heard the voice in front of you speak. "Ahh!" You all screamed as you put a hand on your racing heart. Floating upside down was the dripping wet house warden. "You did it again!" You yelled as you calmed down.

You heard Lilia laugh as he floated down landing feet first onto the wooden floor. "Mind if I stay here to dry?" He asked you, an innocent smile on his face. "Sure you're more than welcome too." You smiled at him as you began to look him up and down. "They really do look like a girl...but that voice says different." You thought with a sigh. "Well, it's useless to think about it."

"I'll get you a dry towel." You told him before turning to the boys who looked kinda of nervous. "Mind taking Lilia to the lounge? I'll be right back."

...

Lilia was now dry and you were both enjoying some late-night snacks. The rain hadn't given up as you smiled at seeing the sleeping figures of Ace and Deuce sleeping comfortably on the couch. Grim had already retired to your shared room as it was just you and the fae talking quietly while eating your snacks.

"Didn't you teleport last time we met? I'm sure you could have made your way to the mirror chamber just fine." You raised your brow in suspicion. Lilia chuckled and slowly nodded his head. "I suppose I could but I just happened to see you all having so much fun, I wanted to join in too."

"Ah, so Deuce wasn't going crazy..." Giggling quietly you looked at Lilia from the corner of your eye. Your eyes wandered around his figure almost as if you were analyzing him. His eyes met yours, catching your attention.

"Hm? What is this? What is it that you hope to do by undressing me with your eyes?" He said, sending you a teasing smirk. You blushed in embarrassment, "I'm sorry it's just that you look so much like a girl. You're very pretty you know?"

Lilia's eyes widened for a second before closing, the teasing smirk finding its place on his lips once more. "I suppose I am huh? Well, it's all just part of my innocent look." He stopped talking for a second before he turned his body fully to you. "Would you like to find out for yourself?" He asked. You tilted your head in confusion. "What do you mean?

Lilia reached for your hand, an innocent smile on his face. You saw him slowly bring your hand up placing it on his chest. His palm was on the back of your hand as he moved it around in a circular motion. You gasped in shock but didn't dare move away.

You heard Lilia let out a pleased hum. "So?" He asked as he let you pull your hand back onto your lap. You stared at him, no words leaving your lips. You're face turning redder than a tomato.

He just sent you a cocky grin as he watched steam blow out from your ears.

[iwriteiguessandiloveit]

I'll Sleep when i'm Dead

Toon!Beetlejuice x reader

i'll sleep when i'm Dead

Chamomile tea by your bedside. Noise machine you brought up from the basement. A small night light casting shadows around the room. All used in some form or another, and still your eyes were glued open; Thinking of both everything and nothing at the same time. The tick-tock of the clock rang out in your otherwise silent room. Speaking of the clock, what time was it anyway? You turned your head to read the digital clock on your dresser- and made eye contact with two large, grey rimmed eyes. 

You screamed- ‘AUGH!’

After the adrenaline rush had subsided, you knew who the strange eyes belonged to. Beetlejuice, your boyfriend. Who also happens to be a ghost.

He rolled through the air, shaking with fits of laughter. ‘Oh, you should've seen your face! Priceless!’ You rolled your eyes and shunted the covers over to the edge of the bed and stepped over to your dresser. Goosebumps prickled along your arms in the chilly air. ‘BJ! What are you doing here? It’s kinda creepy, spying on me like that.’ 

The mirror’s border creaked as he rested his full weight on it. ‘Aw, c’mon! Can’t I just wanna see my favorite breather?’ 

‘That still doesn't make it any less creepy.’ You murmured. Well, creepy or not, you could take advantage of the situation. Anything’s better than being alone with your thoughts at 3 Am. ‘But since we’re both up…’ With a triple recitation of his moniker; As he was shoved by an invisible force out of the mirror and into reality; He crash landed upside down on the floor. Stars circled around his head and his eyes whirled in their sockets. ‘Y-ya really gotta warn me before ya do that…’ You helped him up, but your giggles were interrupted with a large yawn.

 Beej raised an eyebrow. ‘You look tired, babes. Why aren't-cha in bed?’ Upon remembering your predicament, your shoulders sagged. A heavy sigh escaped your mouth. ‘Can’t. Not for lack of trying, I just have so much on my mind right now, like I have a science test tomorrow and notes for history and I have to wake up 30 minutes earlier because I have to pick up my prescription before they send it back and i’ve been trying to go to bed for 3 and a half hours now-’ You were interrupted by Beetlejuice, who shoved a grimy finger to your lips. ‘Ahp-bup-bup, no need to freak out. I’m gonna help you!’ Your eyebrows quirked skeptically, but before, you could express your doubt in that idea he exclaimed-

‘I got an idea! Lemme serenade you to sleep!’ He thrust his hand in his pants pocket and pulled out a full size accordion, complete with handles and a black and white paint job. He started playing a few painfully off-key base notes. ‘Any requests?’ Remembering the last time he tried to play something for you and all the apology notes you had to write to the neighbors, you pushed the accordion down a few inches. 

‘No-thanks, sweet of you but I don’t think it’ll help.’ 

‘You never want to hear my songs.’ He grumbled. But his face lightened up after a moment and exclaimed, ‘I know what’ll help-’ 

With a snap of his fingers, your world exploded into neon stripes. Your room spun away to be replaced by a 80s-esque dance studio, the backdrop a mix of zigzags and bright colors, fuzzing your vision up. In the middle of the room, BJ was dressed in neon green arm and leg warmers with neon purple bodysuit; And hands on his hips in a sassy gesture.

Well this is a sight you’d take to the neitherworld. 

‘Alright babes! Put your hands up and stretch up high! Let's tire those muscles out!’ His feet moved rapidly, spinning like a ballerina and stomping to an invisible beat. Bewildered, you tried to recreate whatever in the world he’s doing but you kept tripping, eventually landing flat on your ass. ‘Beej, take me HOME!’ You cried. He turned to you, huffing and puffing with the effort of his improv-ed dancing. ‘Aw, just when I was having fun…’ He lamented. But as you requested, he snapped again and your room reappeared before you. You steadied yourself on the headboard of the bed. You tugged off and flung the neon pink headband you only just realized you had on when your gaze shifted to Beetlejuice.

He looked a little hurt. Eyes darting away from you, fiddling with his tie. You hadn't meant to hurt his feelings, you were just so tired that you didn't have the sense of humor for his shenanigans in you. He was genuinely trying to help, after all. 

‘BJ…’ You started. ‘Yeah?’ He perked up.

You plopped on the edge of your bed, sagging as the fatigue returned at your lack of motion. ‘I’m sorry I was so harsh. I just… Honestly, the best thing you can do right now is just cuddle me. Silently. Please?’ 

He nodded vigorously, and suddenly his mouth was a zipper and fastened itself closed  with a ‘swiipp’. ‘’Mhmph-hmm!’ He mumbled; His voice, obviously, obstructed by the zipper. 

No matter the state you were in, this goofy ghost always managed to make you laugh.

‘Heh, c’mere.’ You stretched your arms out toward him and he readily dove into your embrace.

The soft chill of his arms was a welcome feeling. You pulled up the covers to both your shoulders, while his hand came up to stroke your hair. Like the clingy specter he is, he wrapped his arms and legs around your waist and clutched you like a parasite. It restricted your breathing a bit, but one look at his adorable face snuggling into your neck had you melting. You didn't have the heart to make him move. 

(1 hour later)

BJ

You're so beautiful. Well, you’re always beautiful, but especially now. It’s been TORTURE just sittin’ here not talking or anything! But I guess if you can sleep it's worth it… now just let me-oops, didn't mean to bump your nose there, Sorry, Y/N. Pleaseee stay asleep-there we go. *smack* free access for forehead kisses. Love ya, babes. Nighty-night.

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

LETS GOOOOOOOOOOO

can you tell I had fun with this one?

RS has the privilege of calling the 80s dance studio setting her own idea~

Credit where it's due: L and RS, who beta read and gave me suggestions (and a lot of laughs)

@accidentalnh2cl, this is for you! I hope you like it!

And off we go! I'll get started on the next one tomorrow.

luv y'all!

-Rea ❤

[violinist-rachel]

[SDL] To Be Needed

[Next]

We see Jack at Kasutoru's, sitting down on the floor next to a table, calmly sipping some tea. He hears a knock at the entrance.

Kuraima: "M-mister Jack? A-are you in here?"

Jack: "…?"

Jack: "Kuraima…? What brings you to-"

Kuraima is stares up at him sheepishly and reveals his arm covered in bloody bandages.

Jack: "...Ah…."

-----------------------------------------

Inside, Jack inspects and unravels the bandages on Kuraima's arm.

Jack: "Did you… dress these yourself…? It's surprisingly… well done…."

Kuraima: "Yes! Thank you! I didn't want to bother anyone, and since this job comes with a lot injuries, I've learned how to take care of- Augh!!"

Kuraima winces as Jack applies the medicine on his arm.

Jack: "Sorry…I should have said something…" Kuraima: "It's okay… It j-just surprised me."

Jack grimaces as he looks at the wound.

Jack: "This… looks pretty bad… Does Clarice… know you're here…?" Kuraima: "No… I didn't want to worry her."

He pauses.

Kuraima: "P-Please don't tell her I came here?" Jack: "Kuraima…. You know I will…"

Kuraima frowns as Jack stands up to walk over to his medicine cabinet.

Jack: "You shouldn't move too much… for the next 2-3 weeks. No strenuous activities…. No fighting."

Kuraima: "!"

Jack: "I want you to rest… and focus on recovering. I know… you're a light sleeper… So I'll give you something… to aid that."

Kuraima: "But... what if Clarice needs me? If she's going someplace dangerous, I have to be there to protect her!"

Jack: "Then Clarice will just have to wait… on going anyplace dangerous… now won't she?"

Kuraima fidgets nervously. Kuraima: "She shouldn't have to wait because of me…"

Jack turns to face him.

Jack: "Kuraima… This is exactly why… I tell her about your injuries." "She's a smart girl… But she's not a mind-reader. It doesn't matter… how good you are at strategizing….. if you don't know… everything you need... to plan correctly…."

Kuraima looks away.

Kuraima: "I just don't think she should have to limit herself for my sake. My job is to keep her safe. What use am I to her if I can't even do that?"

Jack huffs. Jack: ("It's so difficult to get through to this boy…")

Jack: "...Alright, then. Say we don't tell her... and you ended up needing to fight for your lives."

Jack taps Kuraima's infected arm.

"I can tell you with certainty… that if you tried to take care of this by yourself... and left it alone for another week… you would've lost your arm."

Kuraima: "…!!"

Jack: "Had you gone to battle... your wounds not fully healed..." "Under those circumstances… What do you think could happen…?"

Kuraima: "……"

Jack: "All I'm saying is… if it isn't dire… wouldn't you agree that it'd be smarter… to wait until you've recovered?"

Kuraima stays silent.

Jack: "She needs you, Kuraima… And being needed… means sometimes… you must let others to take care of you… so that you can properly take care of them." Jack: "Do you understand?"

Kuraima: "….." Kuraima: "I just…" Kuraima: "I just want to be useful to her…"

Jack: "I know." Jack: "Just remember… Even if she doesn't show it well… she cares about you. You'll always be worth something to her… if not as a bodyguard… then as a dear friend."

Kuraima looks up, slightly abashed.

[sunsetsandsunshine]

~ 𝙻𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎~! ~

💜👻🧡👻💜👻🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴𝚃𝙾𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝟸: 𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚂˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟷,𝟺𝟿𝟻

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜…𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠?

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙲𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 <𝟹

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙷𝙴𝙴𝙴𝙴𝙴𝙴𝙷𝙴𝙴🕺🏾✨!!!˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“Remind me why I’m here again?” Donnie said as he stood in the middle of his youngest brother’s room, crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently, “I have very very important work that I need to get to ASAP.” 

“Oho yeah?” Mikey giggled as he sat on his bed, resting his cheek on his palm, “What work?” 

Donatello huffed, glancing to the side of him, “Just plain old work, Mikey. Now tell me why I’m here so I can be on my merry way.” 

“With pleasure.” The box turtle grinned, going under his bed to get a closed cardboard box, “Y'know that since The Invasion I’ve been able to use my cool mystic hands sometimes, right?”

“I’m aware.” The older nodded. 

“Well, Barry’s been teaching me to control it and use it for the past couple of months. And I wanna see how much I’ve improved!” Michelangelo smiled, turning back to his brother.

The turtle in purple nodded in understanding, dropping his crossed arms as he put a hand on his hip, “So…where do I come to play in all of this?” The softshell asked.

“I wanna test how good I’ve gotten! And you’re the perfect person to test this tactic on.” The light scarlet eyed teen mused, turning back around to open the box, “And besides, you’ve been grumpy all week…you need this.” He mumbled to himself.

The scientist cocked his head to the side, “What was that last part?”

“Nothing!” The youngest said innocently, getting two feather’s from the box and giving them to his brother; one in each hand. 

“…Feathers.” Donnie deadpanned as he raised a confused brow.

“Feathers!” Mikey repeated. 

“…So…I’m just going to hold up these feathers for…how long?” The elder asked.

“Just hold the two feathers up and I’ll take care of the rest!” The smaller turtle smiled, a small orange hue glowing around a singular feather in the box. 

The now orange hued feather floated towards the softshell, gliding across his right side.

Donnie let out an embarrassing short squeal, dropping his arms as me marched over to his brother on the bed. Mikey raised an amused eye ridge, floating another feather to his older brother’s other side.

The purple banded turtle bit his lip, squirming as his knees buckled together. “I-I did— GHK! I-I did no— HNGK!! I did n-not agree t-t-to this!!!” He seethed. 

“Uhuh…yehes you did.” Mikey snickered, “I’d advise you to keep your arms up, big bro.”

“A-And why— ACK! Is that?!” Donatello glared.

“Well you see…if you put your arms down I’d have nooooo choice but to take the feathers you’re holding and let them join their friends in tickle tickle tickling you~!” The scarlet eyed teen smiled sweetly.

“WHAT?!” The young scientist gasped, going back to stomping to his baby brother, “Mikey I hAVE w-work to do and I— AUGH!!!” He screeched, going to the ground as the two floating feather’s made their way to his ribs. “Nohoh! Cohohome ohan!!” 

Donnie shook his head whilst kicking his legs on the carpet, trying to not give his brother the reactions he was seeking.

The softshell had work to do! He didn’t have time for these foolish games…!

But underneath his cursing and scowls…he really did enjoy this— I mean whaaaaat…? Now who said that?!

“Ihi HAHATE YOHOU!!” The purple banded teen shouted as his little brother glided the feather’s across his underarms, “YOHOU’RE E-EHEEVIL! THIHIS IHIS EHEEVIL IHI SAHAHAY!!”

“Is it really~?” The box turtle hummed. 

“YEHES! YEHES IHIT— hic IHIS!” The other laughed, shooting his arms down and hugging his middles, the two feather’s he was once holding now on the floor. 

“Uh oh~! You put your arms down, Dee~! Y'know what that means~!” The youngest teased, a light and sparkly orange hue now surrounding the two dropped feathers, the both of them tauntingly floating around the taller turtle.

“Now~! Where should they go~?” The smaller turtle teasingly asked.

The young genius shook his head frantically, “NOHOWHERE! F-FUHUHUCKING NOHOWHERE!” 

“Mr. and Mrs. Feather don’t like your cussing, Don-bon~!” 

“WEHELL TEHEHELL THEM— hic! TOOHOO FUHUCK OHOHOFF!!” Donnie hiccuped as he kicked his feet helplessly on the ground; trying to at least get the feathers off.

Another wonderful reason for him to hate mystic stuff…

“Dee~! Your arms aren’t raised~! Raise them up for me, please~!” The orange banded mutant mused.

“NOHOH! NOHOH WAHAY IHIN HEHELL!!” The light golden eyed teen squawked.

“No~?” Mikey taunted as he grazed a single feather across Donnie’s shell with his mystic powers, “EEEEHEEEP!! OKAHAY! OKAHAHAY! KEEHEEP THAHAT AWAHAHAY!!”

“Then put your arms up!” The younger said innocently, moving the feather’s down to the other’s plastron area. 

The young genius groaned through his giggles, clenching his teeth as he begrudingly raised his arms up above his head once again, “Cohohount yohour hic dahahays…” 

“Uno reverse, Donald.” The box turtle grinned, making four more feathers glide all across the softshell’s tummy. 

“GYAHAH— hic!! MYHYHY hic! NO! NOHO NONOHAHAH— hic!! GEHET THEHEM AHAHOUT!! GEHET THEHEM AHAHOUT!!” 

“Whaaaat~?” Michelangelo hummed.

“G-GEHEHET THEHEM AHA— hic! OHOHOUT!!!” The elder cried, stomping his feet repeatedly on the ground as he struggled to keep his arms up.

“But why, Tickle Tello~?” The box turtle mutant cooed, slowly walking over to his brother.

The purple banded turtle’s face turned a bright red at the tease; not even trying to put on a tough face facade anymore as he caved into the tickles, “DOHOHON’T hic CAHALL MEEHEE THAHAT hic hic YOHOU ASSHOLE!!”

“Okay, Tickle-Tello.” The smaller teen smiled innocently, sitting next to his older brother that was laughing his absolute shell off.

“Do you remember what we agreed on~?” Michelangelo asked. 

“NOHO— hic! N-NOHOH PUHUHUTTING MY AHARMS DOWN!! IHI GAHAT IHI— hic!! IHIHIT!!!” The light golden eyed teenager squawked. 

“Oh? Then why are you, hm~?” The youngest asked as he pinched the other’s hip mercilessly, resulting in the taller one to shoot his arms down almost immediately, pushing on his brother’s wrists. 

Donnie understood the rules…he really did! 

But this was just plain unfairness at this point.

“MIHI— hic! THAHAHAT’S CHEEHEEATING YOHOU— hic! B-BIHIG CHEEHEEATER!!!” Donnie squealed, his glasses falling off of his face due to the fact he was wriggling snd giggling so much.

The art loving turtle giggled, casually yawning and stretching as if there wasn’t someone literally dying of laughter beside him. 

“It’s not my fault you put your arms down.” Mikey commented smugly.

“YEHEHES IT hic IHIS!! IHIT IS!! IT hic IHIHIS— hic IT IHIHIHIS!!!” Donatello howled. 

“Oh? Is it~?” The box turtle asked, wiggling his fingers above his older brother’s thighs. The purple banded mutant’s eyes widened as he kicked his legs desperately on the floor in a small attempt to keep his little brother away…

…But who is he kidding?

When has that ever worked?  

“NAHAH— hic! NAHAHO!! AHANGEHELO hic hic PLEHEASE I-IHI’M SOHO hic SORRY!! Hic HAHAVE MERCY!!!” The softshell screamed as he hugged his middles tighter.

Mikey snickered lightly at the other’s plead, squeezing his brother’s thighs as the other threw his head back in complete hysterics. 

Happy tears rolled down Donnie’s face as his hands curled to fists, banging on the carpet floor as his legs stomped.

“Awe~! Someone looks like they’re having fun~!” Michelangelo giggled. 

“IHIHI’M NAHAHAT!!” The taller turtle protested loudly.

“You sure~?”

“YEHE— HIC!! YEHEHES MYHY GAHAHAD!!!”

“You positive~?”

“YEHEHES!!!”

“D'aww…that’s a shame~! Maybe this’ll help~!” The younger cooed in a fake pity voice as he lightly nibbled on his brother’s stomach whilst kneading the softshell’s thighs. 

The softshell in question wheezed loudly in result, pushing on the other’s plastron as the feathers quickened in speed, “OHOHAH— HIC!! MYHYHY GAHAHAD YOHOU AHARE HIC SUHUCH HIC AHAN AHASSHOHOLE!!!”

“And you’re digging yourself into an even deeper hole.” Michelangelo retorted as his elder brother let out the most loudest squeal known to man. 

“MIHIHIKEY!!!” Donnie cried.

“Yeeeeees~?” The youngest smirked.

“EEHEE— HIC!!! EEHEENOUGH! HIC EHENOUGH! E-EHENOHOUGH!!!” 

“Aw~!! But I didn’t even get to tickle your shell yet~!” The other pouted, wriggling his fingers near the taller’s shell.

“MIHICHELAHAHANEGLO!!!” The older screeched. 

“Okahay, okay, drahahama queen.” The scarlet eyed mutant chuckled, snapping his fingers which resulted in all the feather’s going back into the box. 

The smallest turtle helped his brother up, giving him a small glass of water he got prior. “Lihihike Ihi hic sahahaid: cohount. yohour. dahahays.” Donatello grumbled through his giggles.

The orange banded turtle rolled his eyes fondly, putting the now closed box underneath his bed once again, “Oh~? So does that mean you wouldn’t wanna help me the next time I practice my mystic powers?”

“…I-I nehever sahaid thahat…” The light golden eyed teen huffed.

“Soooooo, same time next week?” The smaller teen grinned knowingly.

“…Whahatever.” The taller said, quickly turning away and leaving the room to try and hide the evident genuine smile slowly morphing to his face. 

Michelangelo rolled his eyes fondly, sitting on his bed as he scrolled through his phone ever-so casually, “Same time next week it is, then.” 

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[totallybakedcake]

Operation fix hair alert

I saw this post by @newellthedragon which is here it's basically the kaiju alarm goes off in the middle of the night and the defense force officers desperately try to fix their hair, their is a comment there by @supermanstoddlerleash where they comment- narumi frantically trying to fix his hair so he doesn't run into battle looking like a pineapple and I just couldn't resist but make a fic on it.

Used my own scenario

It was late at night, you were training, and a random thought sparked in: "Can't a Kaiju alert happen anytime? We defense force officers might even have the worst bed hair while saving thousands of lives and teasing the shit out of each other."

Just then the Kaiju alarm rang, and you thought, "Perfect timing."

It happened in a blink: changing into the defense force uniform, going to the kaiju's location, and even killing a dozen yoju. You still searched around for any officer who had bad bed hair, but the honju came in front of you, and Okonogi informed you that it was a fortitude of 8.2.

The rest of your memory was unclear; the honju was very powerful and threw you towards a glass wall, where it felt like crying on every piece that you removed from your back. Closing your eyes, it felt like death was near, but a sharp pain and the ground drifting away made you open your eyes again.

"Commander NARUMI?" Your eyes went wide as you saw his face. It showed his dark circles, which had most probably worsened, and his eyes, which were looking straight out of a horror movie because of his sleep-deprivedness. The most ridiculous thing was his hair. It looked like a freaking pineapple walking around; you burst out laughing; it hurt. Your ribs, lungs, muscles, and practically everything in your body hurt, but it was too hard not to laugh at the condition of Gen's hair.

"OI, be respectful to your superior officer's name." Gen felt like he could burst out of anger at you at any moment. It was in the middle of the night when even he was asleep, but the kaijus had to break that beauty sleep, and now everyone is making a clown of him.

Seeing your condition did make him just 0.1 percent sympathetic towards you, but that wasn't enough for him to start a whole ranting session while carrying you in his arms and killing Kaijus; he just needed to vent, okay?

"Is that commander pineapple?" Hoshina couldn't help but snicker at the Narumi Gen; it was the real representation of a pineapple-gone-wrong situation. As Gen carefully put you down, he started yelling profanities at Soshiro, who was clutching his stomach from laughing so hard.

"If you gosh damn bowl-cut won't stop, I swear I will eradicate you!" "Bold of you to assume I would let that happen, Captain Pineapple, gone wrong."

"Augh, you moron." They kept going on and on, ignoring you. It was fun to listen to them, though your body aches were increasing by the second. Suddenly, your vision had black patches appearing, and your body was getting lighter and lighter as everything went black.

Gen and Soshiro stopped their argument when they heard a loud thud seeing you knocked out of the floor.

They quickly picked you up and started taking you to the medical department.

"Oi, this isn't over, fox eyes." Gen whispered and yelled to Soshiro.

"Of course it isn't, Captain Pineapple."

People wonder how they gave each other these 'cute' nicknames.

This wasnt that good but I had fun writing it.

Lots of thanks for following me and even liking my posts! Feel so glad and delighted<3

@bloomin-plume

@sunnysidelle

@pernesophe

@loreblitz

@jarjarwinx

[dogwithrabies]

【★】 cws: none! sub!scara, gn reader but described as afab. slight dacryphilia igl

【☆】 the spacing looks kinda wonky augh, anyway! it's my first time actually writing something serious, so enjoy!

word count: 4.5k

Why does it have to be me?

You mentally curse Aether while taking another step forward. After all the adventures you two shared, he bailed out when Nahida asked him to accompany The Wanderer on his little solo mission. Not only that, but he also suggested your name, something along the lines of “(name) seems to be more fitting for this job than me”. They didn't even give you a notice. The news of your impromptu trip came at the last second, leaving you with only a few hours to prepare, both mentally and physically.

You’re momentarily dragged out of your thoughts as you feel your foot slip, quickly putting your hands forward and catching yourself. It takes you a second to compose yourself and keep on hiking, while your companion just looks at you with an expression of irritation and floats by you.

He insisted on taking a shortcut, cutting right through deep vegetation and saving up time. That is if you can fly. Now, he stands on top of the hill, looking down on you as you stagger to keep up.

Slowly sinking back into your thoughts, you wonder… maybe Aether saw right through your annoyed façade, scowling every time you were faced with Kunikuzushi. Sure, he was rude and sometimes unbearable- but he had such a pretty face. And pretty eyes. And soft lips.

His hair also looked so soft, you wonder how it would feel to run your hand through it, slowly combing it. Maybe even pulling and tugging on it- alas, thinking of him, your thoughts always sway in a different direction.

The wanderer folds his arms over his chest. “This place seems adequate for resting. If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve already arrived at the destination. Fragile humans, always needing to rest after even a small effort.” Another not-so-subtle quip aimed at you. You stopped listening as soon as he started listing the other ways you “slowed him down”, focusing on setting up camp instead. You wished he could just shut up. Forever. But his voice sounds so heavenly, if only he wasn’t such a pain in the ass.

Unbeknownst to you, his eyes fall on your back, following your movements.

He can’t help it, really.

He’s always found himself strangely attracted to you. His gaze follows your hands as they pull and tug while setting up the tent, silently wishing they could do the same to him. He still doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but he was relieved when he found out Nahida choose you to accompany him. Even during previous interactions he has always secretly hoped to have your attention on him, throwing insults at you, enjoying every single glare you throw at him.

The thought of liking someone, especially if that someone is you , irks him. He has never needed anyone. Getting close to people (to humans, no less), is just asking to get betrayed again. He has seen it over and over again, relationships falling apart over the stupidest reasons, cheating and lies and whatnot. The aftermath is even more pathetic, fake sympathy when both parties are on “good terms” or the sadness of a heartbreak.

Despite finding himself starting over, leaving his life as The Balladeer behind, old habits die hard.

So he finds himself in an internal conflict between wanting you and hating you. The latter more often.

The sound of the tent opening grabs his attention- “are you coming inside or not?” you say, your head poking outside while holding the zipper down. Sighing, he takes off his hat and sits down next to you, crossed legs and staring off in the distance. He hates how soft your voice sounds when you’re not busy arguing with him. Soft breaths and defeated sighs as you pull the blanket over you both, covering his legs.

Once again, he finds his gaze falling on you, your back is facing him and your chest is heaving up and down as you breathe. He has half a mind to reach out and touch your hair, but he holds back, you’re still awake. Maybe he could wait until you fall asleep to silently satiate his wish, but the fear of getting caught is stronger. So he sinks under the blankets and settles for simply watching you sleep.

The Wanderer stirs awake, breathing softly as his eyes try to focus.

No light filters through the tent, assuming it’s still nighttime, he lays his head back on the pillow, but when trying to roll on his back, he feels his arm catch on something. That’s when he takes notice of the warm sensation of your body against his. And his arm on your waist, holding you tightly. A bit too tightly, you slightly stir in your sleep and can feel you press against him while your back arches.

He feels himself stiffening, a warm sensation down there, taking notice of how his shorts feel too tight and the tent too small. He removes his arm from your hips and tries to pull the other one from under your back, but to his utter dismay you turn, now facing him, luckily still sleeping.

Not so luckily, your arm is draped on his chest and your leg rests in between his, dangerously close to his semi-hard cock.

Sighing in defeat, his free arm on his forehead covering his eyes, he tries to fall asleep once again.

He doesn’t really need to sleep, physically speaking he does not get tired. During his fatui days, he was used to spending weeks awake on missions. It’s more for his sanity, the calm of the night allows him to organize his thoughts while resting his body. And Nahida would nag him to no end if she found out he was, once again, not sleeping in order to finish his work for her faster.

Trying not to focus on how tightly you’re holding him (or how close your leg is to where he wants you the most) holding him hostage against you, he tries distracting himself, hoping his erection dies down with his will to fight your grip.

Being the first one to wake up, quickly taking conscience of your current position, you panic slightly. You’ve never been this close to him, not that he would let you, he had such an aversion for touch, always keeping his distance.

But right now, his visage is relaxed, his usual scowl nowhere in sight, he looks beautiful.

Slowly moving your arm you reach out for his hair, slowly tucking some loose strands behind his ear, just to get a better look at his face. His eyes are closed, with that red eyeliner of his perfectly contouring his eye shape. Your eyes fall lower, his lips, rosy pink and so inviting. Sitting up and removing yourself completely from him, pulling the blanket off yourself, you turn once again.

But you’re not granted the chance to admire him more, his eyes slowly flutter awake, locking on you.

“Morning,” you murmur, voice still a bit raspy.

He doesn’t spare you a single glance, as he sits up, putting his outer layers and hat on and exiting the tent.

Oh wow, his bad attitude starts in the morning? Deciding to pay him no mind, you quickly collect your belongings and put the tent away.

“Do I not deserve a “good morning?” he hears you say sarcastically.

But he’s not listening. His mind is busy replaying the events from last night, and now, your gentle hand as you moved his hair out of his face. He’s thankful he can stand impossibly still, but he wishes he could have seen your face in that moment. What was your expression? Were you looking at him with adoration or simple curiosity toward his mechanical body? So many questions in his mind, he doesn’t even hear your steps as you stand next to him.

“Are you ignoring me?” - he huffs, interrupting you “Do you ever stop talking? It’s early morning and I don’t feel like entertaining your useless chatter.”

Just what’s the deal with him now? He starts walking away from you quickly. It takes a minute to catch up, knowing he’s going to be extra bothersome today.

This time, you are walking on a clear path, one that is actually shown on the map (unlike his shortcut), but that does not mean it’s any safer. On the contrary, the road is full of fungi, which you had to take care of- courtesy of Kunikuzushi, who apparently prefers watching you struggle instead of helping.

Today was going to be a long day.

Hearing the cool drizzling of a nearby river, you both decide to stop for a quick break.

Dropping your bag under a tree you make your way to the riverside, cooling your hands in the water, then splashing some on your face, a relieving break from the heat.

As the splashing stops, you can see the reflection of Kunikuzushi staring back at you.

Quietly whispering “hi” to try and break the tension gets you no answer from him. So you sit in silence for a few minutes before you rise on your feet, facing him, your faces a bit too close for comfort. He was standing awfully close to you, almost banging your head on the edge of his hat, he still doesn’t say a word.

“what’s deal with you today?” your tone sounding a bit irritated. You could put up with the banter, that was the norm between you two, silence just sounds wrong.

He turns on his feet, trying to put distance between you, but you quickly grab his hand stopping him from leaving. Now he’s angry, “let me go.” he spat, trying to remove himself from your grip.

“Why are you ignoring me?”

“I said let me go!” He uses his other hand to try and free himself, sometimes you forget he’s not human, but his strong grip instantly reminds you. You’re sure that’s gonna leave a mark.

He yanks your arm with an unexpected amount of strength and you lose your balance, toppling forward into his chest, taking the both of you for a fall on the ground.

Flinching as you land on top of him, you look up at him and now he looks pissed. His hands hitch towards you, but you’re faster, pinning them at his sides.

“Get. Off. Me.” he growls.

“Just answer me first,” huffing and still holding his arms down. You’re sitting in between his legs, looking at him from above, his hair disheveled and his cheeks such a cute shade of red. He could free himself from your grip at any moment, but for some reason, he’s choosing to put up a false scenario of struggling to move your arms. He stills when he notices how intensely your eyes are boring through him, he feels himself shrinking under you.

“where did all the bark in you go? giving up already?” you taunt. you just had to ruin the moment. Slowly closing the gap between your bodies, you stare at him more intently, and he swears he saw your eyes flickering between his and his lips. You remove one hand from his arm and repeat the same motion as this morning, moving his hair out of his eyes and sliding them behind his ears.

He’s so beautiful even when he’s angry, you conclude.

But by his reaction, you guess you said that out loud too. He uses his, now free, arm to grab you by the collar of your shirt and drag you closer to his face, your chests now pressed together. He slams your faces together in an attempt to kiss you, it’s messy and it’s inexperienced, teeth clanking together and all. It’s cute.

Pulling away almost instantly you glare at him, “Is this why you’ve been so pissy all morning? You just wanted a kiss?” shifting from the current position to straddling his hips.

“No, that’s not it.” you say as you feel something poking your thigh, his face a darker shade of red, “you want more.”

He moves his hips, trying to get away from the pressure but accidentally ends up brushing his hard-on further on your thigh. “That’s not true.” he winces at his own tone, it sounded winded and not as angry as he wanted.

“Liar.” your hand slides down the side of his face, now gripping his chin forcing him to keep eye contact. “At least your body is honest.” you taunt with newfound confidence. “But if that’s what you reaaally want-” “No!” he interrupts you, stopping your movements before you could even begin lifting yourself off him. “No? so you do want me.”

He looks away again, too ashamed to keep eye contact with you. “Who would’ve known, this bratty personality of yours was just you being a whore all this time.” “N-no, I’m not…!” whatever fight he had left in him disappeared as you slowly grind your hips on his erection.

You lean forward “Just say it. Say it and I’ll give you what you want.”

“Need I remind you… y-you’re the one grinding on me like a whore?” he tries to regain some decency.

“How cute. ” you cut in before he can get another word in and reconnect your lips together, gentler this time. He instantly melts into it, his hand sneaking in your hair to push your faces together even further. He whimpers in the kiss when he feels you pressing harder on his dick. Oh, he was so cute to play with, you couldn’t wait to ruin him.

Moving your hand from his face, you drag your nails on his chest, making him gasp, taking advantage of that to shove your tongue in his mouth. He licks the inside of your mouth with a tinge of desperation, his fingers pushing your head harder. Biting his lips, you break away from the kiss, panting, and a trail of saliva connecting your mouths.

“Swallow.” you say, holding his mouth open as a glob of saliva rolls off your tongue and into his.

He winces slightly but does as you say. “Good boy,” and he prays you don’t feel him twitching in his pants at the nickname. But you do, and meet his gaze with a knowing smirk.

He feels your weight pulling off from him, a look of panic in his eyes thinking you were going to leave him there, but suddenly he feels himself getting dragged up and onto your lap.

Now above you, he feels a bit of control, but that’s short-lived, the moment he feels your lips on his neck he turns into putty in your hands. Biting and licking, leaving marks that he can’t cover. Your hands slide slower, on his sides and pulling on his bow until it comes undone. You give one harsh bite and he moans, his face now nuzzled between your neck and shoulder, trying to mask his noises. Cute.

With the bow now off, you have more access to his sides, dragging your hands on his skin-tight body suit. Your touch sends shivers down his sides, the body suit doing little to nothing to numb your touch, it’s like he’s not wearing anything.

Interrupting the assault on his neck, you look in between your bodies, at his shorts. There’s a little wet spot forming at the tip, and you can see it twitching. “Can I?” you ask, pulling him from his hair to make him look at you in the eyes. He nods quickly and fails to cover the moan that escapes him as you cup his bulge. He is uncharacteristically warm all over, but especially down there.

Tugging at the sides of his shorts, he gets the memo and lifts himself up, just enough for you to slide them mid-tight. As you pull his body suit to the side, freeing his erection, he is suddenly very aware of the fact that you are, in fact, still outside, just a few meters away from the main path.

But that thought quickly gets pushed to the back of his mind as he feels your hands on him. He shivers, your gentle fingers go over his slit, gathering pre cum and sliding it all over his shaft.

His arms drape around your neck as he hides his face on you again, slowly and not so subtly taking in your smell. He is so sensitive , feeling every movement of your soft hand as you slowly jerk him off.

“F-fuck, move faster,” he speaks, muffled and hushed near your ear.

“What’s the magic word?” you continue, agonizingly slow.

Really? You’re pulling this on him now?

“...Please?” he says, even more hushed now.

Satisfied for now, you speed up your movements, alternating between sliding your tight fist over his shaft to rubbing his tip. You hear him moaning and whimpering, all muffled by your shoulder. That simply won’t do.

Your hand comes off him, pushing his back to the ground. He looks at you confused, already missing your touch on him. But then you pull his shorts completely off, spreading his legs enough for you to shimmer in between them. Pushing himself up, he looks down at you. You grab his hands and slowly move them to your head.

Grabbing his legs and dragging him closer to you, you leave a trail of kisses along his tight, stopping to leave a few bites and sucking to leave a mark before moving on to the other one. Everywhere your mouth goes it's followed by a series of dark bruises and bite marks.

He shudders as you place one kiss on his tip, before licking the precum that’s leaking out. The grip on your head tightens as your tongue darts out giving small kitten licks.

Fed up by the teasing, he pushes you forward, managing to sink in half his length before you gag. You try to push back, but his grip holds you in place. You stare at him, angry eyes meeting his. Looking down at you, he smirks before pushing your head further, your nose touching his pelvis, effectively burying himself to the hilt.

His chest heaving heavily, your warm mouth engulfs him fully, and before he’s prepared he feels your mouth bobbing up and down his length, tongue swirling and licking a prominent vein on his cock.

“F-fuck, that’s good…” he moans, unable to muffle it as both his hands are busy on your head.

His stomach churls, watching as you work hard to get him off. He jolts when he feels you pinch the inside of his thigh, twitching in your mouth as he feels his climax approaching.

“ ‘m close…” he musters out in between moans, his grip tightening on your hair. His hips move forward, slowly at first, but he speeds up, now actively fucking your throat.

He doesn’t even notice you stopped moving your head, letting him use your mouth however he pleases.

“I’m gonna-... hah! F-fuck I’m gonna cum”, his moans are now just a series of hushed “ah’s” making your heart flutter. He’s so cute when he’s desperate.

You have half a mind to edge him and make him fight for his release, but you want to see him cum. You want to see how his face crunches in pleasure. You want to be the reason he finds himself breathless.

He thrusts in you one last time before releasing, thighs clenching around your head. Warm spurts of cum shoot down your throat as you struggle to swallow it all. He holds your head in place, no intent of letting go until he feels his body go limp.

He falls with his back laying on the ground with a soft thud. Taking your mouth off his softening cock you climb on top of his body, Kissing him, he grimaces at the bitter taste of his own release. Your hands still roaming his body, one pinching his nipples through the body suit while the other reaches down in between his legs.

“ hah… mh! wait, I just finished-” he whimpers while closing his legs on your hand.

“Who said I was done with you? I haven’t gotten my fill yet.” you free your hand, getting up and rucking your pants down, and you take off your underwear too.

Kunikuzushi’s eyes immediately fall down, staring at your leaking cunt. He wants it in his mouth. He wants to be inside you, he feels his cock twitch as it starts to harden once again.

You straddle his hips, this time, sitting on his dick, slowly grinding your core on it. His hands grab your waist, dragging you closer to himself, his face looks so soft, his lips so biteable. You kiss him once again, caressing one side of his face. His fingers dig into your hips with need, you can feel him now fully hard against your thigh.

He lets out a small gasp as you grab him in your palm, aligning him with your hole.

“w-wait…” he gets cut off as you slowly sink on him. His head falls back as he lets out a guttural moan, you feel heavenly. Your insides are warm and your walls flutter around him, sending shivers down his spine.

His face is crunched up, not in pain… he just looks like he’s concentrating really hard, with fingers still gripping your sides, he looks at you with lidded eyes.

Locking eyes with him, your hips move forward. It’s the smallest movement, but it sends his head spinning in pleasure, biting his lips and trying to hold back his moans. It’s when you start bouncing on him with a rhythm that he totally loses control. Moaning with no shame, his hands now have a messy grip on whatever they can hold of you.

He looks like a mess, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, his eyes are unfocused and there’s a bit of drool on the side of his mouth. Your hand slowly moves to his neck, you’re aware he doesn’t need to breathe, but squeezing his throat gets a reaction out of him anyway.

“That’s right… only I can make you feel like this,” he moans, interrupting you. “Only I can make you feel this good. Got that?”, he nods, his eyes closed shut.

Leaning down to leave more marks on his neck, you hear him whimpering right in your ears. It only spurs you on, riding him faster while he squirms and writes under you.

He doesn’t speak this time, but you can tell he’s already close. You are too, his cute little noises only fueling the fire in the pit of your stomach.

Biting on his neck, he gasps, back arching off the ground while he holds you tighter than ever. You look at how his expression changes, eyes closed with tears prickling at the sides, and then you feel him twitch and a warm sensation flood your insides. It takes him a moment, his arms slide down your sides while he catches his breath. But the moment is short-lived, you start riding him again, his eyes shoot open as he grabs you trying to stop you.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you stop him, shoving two fingers in it. “Suck.” It’s an order, he swirls his tongue around them while sucking. He’s still so sensitive, having just finished. “mhhfm! I- ah- I can’t-” he tries speaking, but you shush him shoving your fingers in deeper making him gag.

Now tears are actively streaming down his face. God, he looks so ruined. Marks all over his neck and thighs, his body suit can partially cover some of them but the rest will be visible. He will be walking around Sumeru and everyone will know that he is yours. Only you can see him like this, only you can fuck him till he cries.

You slam harder on his cock, feeling his come from his previous orgasm leak down his shaft and onto his thighs. The noises coming from the both of you are obscene. Anyone passing by could hear you, the thought makes you clench on him. Feeling your orgasm approaching, you take your fingers out of his mouth and trap him in a kiss.

Your walls tighten around him, and moaning in his mouth you reach your climax.

Still breathing heavily, you grab his face turning it towards you, tears are still sliding down his face. You place a kiss on the corner of his eye, licking one tear away.

“You… made me swallow your spit,” he says between pants, after a minute of silence. His mind is no longer foggy, he cringes at how high his voice got when he was moaning just a few minutes ago.

“And you enjoyed it,” you say while pushing yourself up, you let his limp cock slip out of you. Leaving his lap to reach for your clothes, you can feel him boring holes in your back.

Does he want to say something…? You offer him a hand to pull him up, which he silently grabs. Pulling his shorts up and helping him redress, he looks at you with rosy cheeks and a slight pout. There are so many thoughts swirling in his head. What was it you said about him being yours…? Did you mean it? It irritated him how you seemed to move on so quickly after fucking his literal brains out.

“You know,” you begin talking, “you are much more submissive than I thought-”

“Fuck off! It’s all your fault. You make me feel all weird all the time.” he snaps back.

“Oh? Don’t tell me I'm giving you butterflies-” he slaps his hand on your mouth, “shut it.”

“and quit licking my hand it’s not gonna make me let go.”

He hears you mumble something and removes his hand. “Okay, okay. I’m not gonna make fun of you. But just so you know, I don’t do one night stands, you’re stuck with me now” You grab his face and drag it closer to you, and when he doesn’t fight back you bring your lips together once again. This one is soft, no longer spurred on by lust and need. When you break the kiss he looks at you with something akin to adoration in his eyes.

“you’re so cute. cute. cute. cute.” you repeat while peppering his whole face with kisses. He groans but lets you do as you please, a defeated look in his eyes as he hears you giggle while kissing him one final time on the lips.

While you keep nuzzling his neck, he looks up at the sky taking notice of how the sun has begun setting, sighing. He guesses Nahida will just have to wait more for her mission to get completed. But at least he has you now to keep him company.

Nahida would be happy to know he’s finally making connections with humans.

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: Looks like we gotta put Katsuki in his place…or try to, anyways. Augh @cashmoneyyysstuff is literally my savior hereee ilyyy Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Cursing, reader is the daughter of Aizawa, Shinso and Eri are biological siblings, reader is 20 years old, reader befriends Kaminari and Sero, Reader uses "Cattus" as her alias, reader's nicknames are Cactus and Cattus, fight scene between you and Bakugou, really BAD depictions of a fight scene, reader's down bad LMAO, two characters aren't from MHA but are there for the plot, mentions of overexertion, Bakugou challenges you to a fight, a tualia is a type of duel for reference,

Pairing(s): Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏᴜʀ: Ten, Again

“Daaaaaaamn Cattus.” Hanta drawls, approaching you once training ended for the day. You hadn’t moved a bit- rooted to where you stood when Bakugou challenged you to a fight.  

“Got a duel on the first day, huh? Against the great ol’ ‘War Dragon’ too.” Denki chimes in, slinging an arm around your shoulder.  

“Was nice knowing you two.” you mumble, regret laced in your tone. You joined the army to avoid trouble, not cause it. 

Denki nods sagely, patting your back in an attempt to console you. “What flowers do you want for your funeral?” 

Hanta rolls his eyes, slinging his arm over your shoulders as well. “Eh, I think Cattus’ll beat the ‘Pissy Lizard’ any day- man's probably got some secret moves he isn’t spilling.” the ravenette says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.  

You sigh, internally cackling at Hanta’s take on the captain’s nickname, but chose to address the latter statement.  

“I haven’t trained since I was ten though! An entire decade ago!” you groan, and Hanta raises an eyebrow.  

“What’s stopping you from training now then? There’s some dummies we passed a few minutes ago that Moss Bear said was for public use.” 

You blink- how in the world did they know so much about this place and you didn’t? 

You ask them, and Denki just snorts, pulling your wolf’s knot teasingly.  

“You sir, are the King of Moping. You’re too busy lamenting your stay here, and so you don’t appreciate hanging out with your bros” Denki says, sighing dramatically.  

Sero flicks your forehead “And while you were busy off in space, you overhear some things.” 

You groan. Maybe Fern Bat was right. About you, not your father.  

But he wasn’t going to be for long.  

You were going to train as hard as you could to make up for the last 10 years of your life.  

*** 

It was almost midnight when you finally put down the sword, muscles aching, body feverish and drenched with sweat, you worked so hard you felt like you were going to vomit.  

“Shit...” you mutter, letting your sword clatter to the ground, resting your head against the nearby tree.  

You wanted water, and a shower, but you didn’t have that luxury right now. Right now...you had rest, rest was good. Good enough at least. 

Though you were thoroughly exhausted in every meaning of the word, you felt...rejuvenated. Alive, almost.  

You had to admit, you changed a lot in the last week than you had in your entire life, more fierce, more bold, more confident even. You felt...free. Though you loved your family with your entire heart, mind, soul, and being, not having the responsibility to tend to others 24/7 was relieving.  

What wasn’t relieving however was the impending fight you had tomorrow.  

Oh well. 

If you were going down, you wouldn’t make it easy, that’s for sure.  

In the light of the waning moon, you smirk to yourself. 

You were going to remind the so called “War Dragon” that while they grew flowers, cacti still had thorns.  

*** 

You woke up the next morning, early, much to Denki and Hanta’s annoyance, but they understood enough to let you be and give you shit for it later.  

 It’s early enough that no one is awake right now, and so you slip away from the mass of tents and training equipment to find solace in the nearby lake, one you noticed when first arriving here, taking a much-needed wash to cleanse yourself of the dirt, grime and sweat from the previous night. 

It was relaxing and refreshing- exactly what you needed to get yourself in the right mindset for your battle. Icy water laps at your skin, cleansing you from worries and emotions that you couldn’t afford to feel right now. Usually, you would complain and shiver about the temperature of the water you were in- but right now, you felt new. 

Right now, you couldn’t be Y/N.  

Right now, you were Cattus. 

*** 

Thump. 

Thump. 

Thump. 

Your heart beats thrums steadily against your ribcage, like a gong or a rhythmic drum sounding over and over again.  

And across from you, those stupidly pretty ruby eyes. 

You couldn’t be falling for him. 

You couldn’t be falling for him. 

Stupid Pissy Lizard. 

You stare at the Adonis of a man in front of you, finally drinking in his features.  

Chiseled jawline, slim waist, hulking figure. Long eyelashes that housed those eyes you loved so much, and spiky hair that jutted in every direction, similar to the horns and spikes of a dragon. Plush lips that stretched across the smug grin on his face. 

Damn. 

That might be a slight problem. 

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” the soldiers that crowded you chanted, louder and louder, in sync with the beating of your heart.  

You were a warrior.  

With a cry, you lunge forward at the sound of the gong, just as Bakugou does.  

And suddenly, you were ten again.  

You see him move without him moving, noticing the muscles in his right arm clench every so slightly, meaning he would strike your left side.  

Dropping to your knees, you slide underneath the blade, ignoring the pain the friction caused against your knees and kick your legs out to knock him off balance too.  

He stumbles, before whipping back to face you, already on your feet, and preparing to strike for his abdomen.  

“Remember Y/N.” you father had told you. “When facing an opponent who excels in strength, you must beat them in speed.” 

Bakugou was strong, you could give him that. Extremely so, with skills so refined that you could barely find the chinks in his armor. He was fast too. 

You would just have to be faster.  

“Become the wind, embrace it, embody it.” you hear your dad’s voice in your head. “And once you do, overcome it.” 

“Be faster, better, become more than the wind could ever be.” 

Bakugou blocks your strike, but is taken aback at your speed, growling as he used the momentum to push you off him, leaving you skidding against the dirt, yet you maintain your footing, and your stance. 

Sword clash, as you fight tirelessly, the soldier surrounding you watching intently. They didn’t expect you to last this long- neither did Bakugou. Were you actually going to win? 

And yet, in reality, what could a single gust of wind do against a fire breathing dragon? 

Just as you couldn’t win against your father, you couldn’t win against Bakugou.  

But you knew that. 

That wasn’t what you were concerned about. You could hold your own against the captain of an army squadron, and Bakugou knew that. You have proven your point.  

Now, you were just toying with him.  

You felt sluggish, overexerting yourself well beyond your limit at this point- knowing that in these types of challenges, a tualia in specificness, the only way to win was to pin your opponent down for 10 seconds.  

Given his sheer size and strength, you knew that pinning him down for that long would be impossible. You came to terms with that a long time ago. 

Bakugou’s chest heaved, sweat dripping down his neck. He was just as tired as you were, but still royally ticked off. You could see why they called him a dragon now, eyes narrowed in concentration and breathing so heavily smoke could exit his nostrils.  

Running straight at him, you direct yourself as if to collide with him, the latter bracing for impact before you spin around, hooking your foot around him, and causing him to fall on his back.  

Taking the opportunity, you place your forearm on your collarbone, putting as much weight as your could afford at that moment, pinning him down. 

“One...two...three...” you mutter, loud enough that the other soldiers could hear you.  

Holy shit. Was this going to work?  

Bakugou’s breath comes out ragged and labored- he's tired. 

“Four...five..uff!” you cough out as Bakugou suddenly headbutts you and reverses your stance, him now pinning you.  

Shit!

“One...two...three” he starts counting, voice so low and gravelly it sounds almost unhuman.  

He’s not growling now though, he seems subdued almost, like he just wants to get this over with. 

“Four...five...six...seven...” 

You don’t bother squirming, or trying to escape, already sensing your tualia coming to an end. You can’t help but feel butterflies erupt in your stomach from the proximity and you mentally open a cage to stuff them through- you'd deal with those feelings later.   

“Eight...nine...fucking ten.” he groans, getting off of you, and allowing you to finally breathe, relaxing into the ground, but Denki and Hanta help you up anyways, awestruck.  

“You almost beat him!” Denki gushes, giddy with excitement.  

Hanta nods in assent. “I knew I said you might have secret skills, but damn. I don’t think Bakugou’s gone up against anyone who’s still alive to tell the tale.” 

You chuckle dryly, too tired to share their enthusiasm but grateful for it nonetheless. 

“C’mon guys, let’s get back to the tent.” 

Taglist: @andysdrafts @starieq @nemisimp @missa-archdevilme @coquettefoxxy

@032loe @icedemon1314 @fta1ask4 @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @cuppalevi

@touyasprettydoll @slayfics @yeehawgiddyup13 @notjustanotherextra @frvv

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@cax-per @kit-katsukii

[americanwh0rerstory]

The morning after [cherik]

charles xavier X erik lehnsherr

SUMMARY: after an ‘intense’ night together, charles begins to have some deep thoughts

WARNINGS: homosexuality

A/N: AUGH I LOVE THESE GAY MEN SO MUCH

NO NSFW ^_^

charles stood in the shared kitchen, shakily stirring his coffee whilst waiting for erik to wake up. it was a long night, and charles would be lying if he said he could walk straight right now.

he stirred the coffee, watching as the milk blends with the coffee beans, however it’s only when the spoon continued to spin after he let go that he was aware of his lover standing in the doorway

with lipstick smeared over his face from the previous nights and remnants over charles face and neck, erik leaned against the wooden doorframe with his hand slightly extended to control the spoon

“i’d have made coffee for you, you can go back to bed” erik says in an uncharacteristic soft tone, looking at the worn out charles

“no it’s fine, i’ll make you a cup too” charles replies as he began to pour erik’s cup of coffee, regaining control of the spoon from his partner

whilst stirring the coffee his mind wandered, thinking about him and erik. was it love? surely it was, the way they interacted sure seemed like love. or was it just platonic? did erik just want a friends with benefits situation? hopefully not, charles wouldn’t be able to handle it if erik left. yes, he was independant, but a world without erik seemed almost unbearable

he was so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t notice erik stand behind him, feeling erik’s arms encircle his waist and his head resting on charles’ shoulder

“you need to rest, darling” erik murmurs into charles’ skin. “somethings clearly bothering you so how about we lay in bed, drink out coffee, and you tell me what’s going on”

charles muttered a soft agreement and finished making the coffees, taking it into the bedroom they both shared before he began to open up. he never liked opening up, but he had to know what erik was thinking. he didn’t want to use his mutation, but would it really be bad if he did?

“do you love me? romantically, i mean. or is this just an extension on our friendship?” charles asks as he sits on his side of the bed, looking at erik over the rim of his mug

“why ask questions you already know the answer too, sweetheart?” erik asked in response, the petname rolling naturally off his tongue as though it was honey. he gulped down some of his coffee before continuing. “you’ve always been the closest person to me, why would i ever feel anything less than love for you?”

he set his mug down and pulled charles closer to him, the latter’s head resting on the former’s chest. erik’s hands weaved in charles’ hair, playing with the strands in an attempt to soothe him. “i love you, charles. even if i don’t say it, you know i do. and if you ever doubt it then there’s nothing stopping you looking in my head”

charles sighs gently with content, relaxing into erik’s touch as they laid on the bed together. “i love you more” he says in a half whisper, closing his eyes as he cuddled into erik. “even when you’re covered in lipstick”

[tiredcatboysinc]

The icing on the cake

Dude, what do you mean I wrote all of this in one day huh wuh =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇)

ao3

“Hey, what’s your favorite flavor?” “In what context? .3.”

“Cake.”

“Vanilla :3”

“Okay.”

Those messages had been sent over a week ago by now, and Allan’s question is still plaguing your thoughts. Why did he need your favorite cake flavor..? Nothing was coming up… Your birthday wasn’t until a few more months… Hmm… Augh!! What could this little critter need with your favorite cake flavor???

Well, it was obvious he was planning something. How do you know? Because Allan normally texts you every morning, 8 am sharp. But now, he’s been faltering… Sometimes messaging at 8:05 or even 8:20. Something was up, and you would figure it out one way or another!!

So, first things first… You can’t directly ask Allan, no, no, no!! That’s too direct, and there's no way if he was planning something he’d tell you. No, Allan was cautious… but not cautious enough. You knew he’d have had to have told someone in the office, if not directly then they’d overheard his insane rambling. 

You hum, leaning over the table in the breakroom. Your elbow rested on the hard surface, digging into the material as you thought. Your mouth quirked unevenly, brows furrowing in frustration. Who to ask first…

“Hey, whatcha doin’ man?” Charlie questions as he saunters into the breakroom, looking as nonchalant as ever. Quickly, you shot up from your seat. As you slammed a hand down you pointed at Charlie, causing him to flinch slightly. “MR. DOMPLER!” You shout, eyes ecstatic in hope. Charlie looks around nervously, chuckling softly at your antics. 

“Uh, yeah? What’s up?” He sits at the table, leaning in the chair as you lower your arm. Swiftly, you whip your phone from your pocket to show him the messages. Pointing to Allan’s text you begin to question him, “WHERE WERE YOU ON THIS TIME AND DATE????” You blink rapidly as you point to the date of the messages. Charlie furrows his brow, scratching at his neck as he cranes his head back in thought. He pops his lips, clicking his tongue as he grumbles. 

“Uhhh, fuck… Dude, I dunno… Probably at home drinking… or smoking, one or the other.” He chuckles, turning back to you. Squinting your eyes at him suspiciously at him you hum, pursing your lips. “A likely story… Then you wouldn’t know why Allan wants my favorite cake flavor, would you???” You accuse him, widening your eyes and blinking rapidly. 

Charlie scoffs in mock offense, smiling playfully and furrowing his brows. He waves his hand dismissively, chuckling. “Whaat? Me, know anything ever? Nah, man…” He pauses, “Though, speaking hypothetically… If I did know something… I’d say go and ask Glep.” He chuckles as a broad smile cracks over his face. You lean back, crossing your arms over your chest in thought. A hum of satisfaction leaves your lips, a small smile quirking upon them.

“Hmm… Okay then!” You chirped, taking your leave from the breakroom. Charlie sighed, letting a chuckle of amusement choke from his throat. “God, those two are so fucking in love…”

Glep was somewhere, and nowhere at the same time. How did that make sense? You didn’t know, but Glep always found their ways… They were slippery and hard to get ahold of when you needed them, of course, when they weren’t needed you could find them anywhere you looked. Right now was not the latter, Glep was nowhere to be found and you were positively stumped. 

You grumbled in annoyance, deciding to give u your hunting and think your impulsive plan a once over… Maybe Allan wasn’t doing anything, maybe he had been asking out of curiosity. However, that didn’t explain the late texts. It also didn’t explain anything really… Allan doesn’t ask just for asking, he asks for purposes. You run your hands over your face, rubbing harshly at your temples. Come one brain, do some thinking here… 

…

…….

AUGH!!! Dammit!! Damn that critter!! There’s no reason he would get you cake!! Nothing is coming up, is there??? Nothing that you can think of…

Vrttt.. Vrtt…

Your phone buzzes softly in your pocket, catching you off guard for a split second. You fumble to grab it from its confines, swiping it open to see a text from the critter himself…

“Are you at the office?”

“Yeah”

“Okay.”

You wait for a second, a minute, and another minute, but no more texts come. Urgh, fuck, Allan!! Why did you have to be such a dry-ass texter??? A sigh of disappointment looms in the air as you return to the breakroom, Charlie now nowhere to be seen and Glep still unable to be found. You grumble with aggravation, the dread of having to wait for Allan seeping into your skin. 

Fuck it, you might as well just doomscroll for a while… And so you did. You scrolled for no more than a few minutes before the door was opened, Allan pushing it open with his forearm. He held a small cake in his hands, no more than enough for one or maybe two people. Your brows furrow, confusion now set into your expression.

“Hey,” Allan clears his throat, “Uh… This isn’t what I’d normally do, but here.” He walks over and places the cake in front of you. Once more he clears his throat, his hands now empty he fidgets with his tie. You look between the cake and Allan, a soft blush creeping onto your cheeks. The cake was professionally decorated, with beautiful yet small designs laid over the icing with fondue. In the center was text written in icing, the font bordering on cursive. It asked a simple question, ‘Dinner?’ 

You look back to Allan, looking as if he’d just asked you to marry him. Softly, you begin to smile. 

“Yeah, I’d love that actually.”

[healer-pop]

the way in which virgin afab venture had me react so carnally that about 3 different things popped into my head is. i wish i had an image to express my feelings imagine. imagine,, fucking,, virgin afab venture,, cause like AUGH if you thought they were loud before that /lh imagine their moans and whines,, begging for more, please don't stop,, I LITERALLY CANT WRITE THIS OUT THE ROT IS BAD BAD /pos tell me you understand PLEASE - feral

I— so many thot thoughts rn

Using a strap on them for the first time, having to go so slow, because they’re so unused to the sensations, the feelings, and so, so sensitive. They’re so vocal too. So loud and reciprocative to your touch. They love when you tease their slit with your dildo, running it down to their entrance, letting the head rest there but not push in. Reaching for the lube, just to relax them, so they won’t be so stressed if they don’t get wet enough, but not needing it, because they are just completely leaking all over. Your fingers can press in and out so easily, but still going at a meager pace in order to stretch their muscles out fully, knowing the stretch will be a lot to handle, because your strap isn’t exactly small (at their own request). Encouraging them in just the right ways that have their back arching at your praise, even when you press three fingers into them and they wince; once they get used to it, you use your other hand to push down on Venture’s stomach, just enough to dig deep into their g-spot, making them clench around your digits, throwing their head back in a soundless moan, grabbing at your wrist to ground themself through the pleasure. When you deem them ready, you lean up and kiss their chest, letting them know you’ll be really fucking them soon. They give a half-hearted nod, lost in their desire, eyes hazy and unfocused as they look at you. And pushing in… where they just gasp in pain? Pleasure? A mix of the two, so tightly intermingled that you can’t tell one from the other, just like the two of you right now, holding their waist down because you don’t want them to accidentally hurt themself by taking too much at once as they buck upwards to meet your hips. Your mouth spouts even more praise, your pretty bottom is an absolute mess, tears flowing down their cheeks as they nod back, telling you to give them more, you can see their hole tightening around your cock, the squishy, wet noises that echo off the bedroom walls given rise to flushed cheeks from the both of you. They’re completely unsure of what to do with their hands, moving from your shoulders, to your arms, down to your lower back, pulling you closer to try and speed up the process, but you shake your head.

“‘stop it. Gonna hurt yourself if you do that.”

They give a weak sound of disagreement, but allow you to set the pace, taking whatever you give them, permitting you to fully sheath yourself in them at your leisure. And once you’re all the way in, they’re panting, trembling in your arms at the fullness.

“Can I move? This alright?”

They quickly nod, blinking back even more salty tears. You reach out and brush them from their cheeks, cupping their cheek in hand as you pull back for your first thrust. They’ve seemingly lost their voice in this moment, but the minute your hips connect with their’s, it’s back, in full force, as they gasp with indulgence, moaning out your name, a string of curses, and sounds of utter delight at the feeling of being fucked like this.

[qqtxt]

[🎈] just a lil' bit [🐿]

[!] this is for the 1k followers mini fics. click here to find out more! ✿ pairing: taehyun x reader / idol!txt / non.idol!you / fluff / 514 words ✿ request: [mine] + taehyun (for one muse to wear something belonging to the other) [main masterlist 🌸] / [event masterlist] / [tag: #qqtxt: 1k]

taehyun was a man with very little recognisable clothing, to begin with. simple t-shirts, blank hoodies, and caps that were either his or not but he wasn't too fussy with in the first place... taehyun wasn't that big on fashion but he was willing to dabble in a couple of interests here and there whenever he felt like it. then of course, when the sparks began flying whenever you came rolling around the sparks doubling each time you reciprocated his feelings made it feel impossible not to combust... and the dire need to want you to wear his clothes.

as if it was a token of recognition that hey, maybe you two weren't just best friends who spent an awful lot of time with one another. and it seems like kai's picking up on it during movie night when–"hey! glad you could make–wait a minute, whose hoodie is that?"

before you can indulge in the hug that kai greets you with, he's just as quick to make you lean back so the rest of the boys can get a glimpse of what you're wearing. it wasn't anything out of the ordinary... unless you count the fact that you're wearing jeans with a hoodie–"that looks awfully familiar..." beomgyu chimes from the sofa, head lazily propped up from one of the ends to get a good look at you with squinting eyes. things were about to get chaotic and you could feel it until you locked eyes with someone who grounds you immediately with the hand that grabs onto yours.

your feet move along naturally, matching his steps as taehyun clears his throat and holds your interlocked hands up in the air for the four pairs of eyes watching: "y/n's wearing my hoodie, we're together. we'll be back in five minutes after ya'll finish screaming."

it's dead silence as you follow taehyun's cue back to his shared room with kai and he locks it, nudging you to take a seat on his bed. after a beat, he turns around to give you a smile, one that makes you smile back with the blooming feeling in your chest.

"you look good, even more with my hoodie on you."

"i'm keeping it, you're not getting it back now."

he shrugs and points to his closet with his head, "all of my clothes are free for your taking. just leave some for me."

you spread your arms out, "shut up and come hug me."

"augh," he huffs, "so needy," he says, even though his actions prove otherwise when he's on you in a heartbeat. as you sink in his embrace, feeling the way he slots his face to your neck, the quietness outside makes you curious to ask: "why're we in here? it doesn't sound like they're–"you stand corrected when on cue, there's yelling and shouting outside with a demand for taehyun to get out there to tell them the full story.

(("we're gonna have to go out, y'know? we can't stay in here forever." "eh," taehyun snorts, squeezing your waist, "we can let them wait a bit more."))

[ficbrish]

Part of my Kinktober 2023 one shot collection

"You were my first."

[Ao3] | [Tumblr]

cw: Blood, cptsd, self-hate, alcohol

Tav Vistri, Act I, right after Bite Night

Big moment, that following morning was. Pleasantly enough, none of the others tried to drive a stake through Astarion’s heart upon learning his true nature. Nor did Vistri suddenly change her mind and call for a mob. She even stood up for him. Showed a suspicious amount of understanding.

But that’s how she’d always survived.

A bit of kindness tinged with charm, and lying back, goes a long way.

Astarion seemed the happiest that Vistri had ever seen him. Although, to be fair, they’d journeyed together less than a tenday, and not under the most pleasant circumstances. She’d seen him smile, but not like that. Not like the way he’d been smiling since—

His lips on her neck…

“Augh!” Vistri exclaimed, walking unannounced into Shadowheart’s tent, “I feel like a ripe pile of shit!”

“Were you raised in a barn?!” Shadowheart cried, startled and put out by her new friend’s sudden appearance.

“No, the Underdark—But that’s not important right now,” Vistri answered, too obsessed at the moment to exchange a bit of back and forth, “We don’t have time for an ethics debate.”

“An ethics debate? You just barged into my tent!”

“Because I needed to talk to you!” she explained, as if that answered everything sufficiently.

“I swear, if you hadn’t saved my life…”

“I know, I know! I’m insufferable. Do you have wine?”

“It is just passed sunrise.”

“Yes, and I’m very thirsty.”

Somehow, Shadowheart’s exasperated refusal to indulge her self-destructive habits prompted Vistri to spill everything. How she never felt anything.

How much she felt last night.

“You like the vampire?”

Vistri looked as if Shadow had just spat in her face, and protested, “I do not!”

While she had her crisis at Shadowheart, Astarion was literally skipping through the woods. He couldn’t remember a day where he felt better than he did this morning. With her blood flowing through him, giving back life.

Was this what it felt like to be Vistri? he found himself musing, watching the dapple of shadows dance across his hands as the sunlight trickled through the trees.

Which was a very ironic conclusion for him to draw, considering that she was just now sobbing wildly on Shadowheart’s awkward shoulder.

But Vistri never let him inside her mind despite pushing into his, not after that first initial taste; when they met on the ground in his arms, while his blade pressed into her. Too much was happening then for Astarion to really notice anything, and he only felt a hint of someone else before she instinctually shut her mind off from his. They’d shared a memory, but it was like the directions of a play read aloud, not the feelings of an actor emoted through their eyes.

It piqued his curiosity now that he spent a little time in her company. Had a taste of her.

And like a cat discovering a closed door, he was suddenly possessed by the need to pry it open.

Turns out, things were working out for Astarion better than he could have ever imagined. He could get used to his luck turning around like this. Not only did the rest of his companions accept that he was a vampire without much complaint, Vistri offered to let him feed again.

Before he accepted, it was important for Astarion to make clear that nothing would ever happen again without her say so. He could be better than Cazador ever was—wanted to be better.

“I shall wait patiently until you suggest we… dine together.”

Vistri could feel heat rising in her face. Cheesy little comments of his like that previously grated on her nerves, and now she wanted to giggle.

What the fuck was wrong with her? Did she really want him? Could she really… imagine that as a possibility?

“But until then: No more late-night surprises, you have my word on that,” he promised. Rather sincerely, actually.

It was probably due to some vampiric thrall she must be under, but Vistri decided to trust his words. Every night could be its own test, and a sick part of her hoped he’d break his vow. That he’d prove it was all good to be true; show her who she really was. Prove that neither of them were worth it.

“Thank you,” she said, biting her lip, “And if you don’t mind, I have a vow of my own to exchange.”

“Oh?”

“Pushing into your mind… I wasn’t sure if you were going to kill me, but in finding out, I also… That was for you to save or tell. Not for me to find out. Not like that. I swear I’ll never do it again. Not without asking first.”

Astarion looked a bit devastated; shook it off with a smirk, and then said, “We’re even.”

Vistri was taken aback, “Even?”

“I've only tried to stab you when we first met, and bite you while you’ve slept. A little wriggling around with my mind worm… Well, you’re not better than me after all! In fact, you’re just like me.”

She smiled and looked at her feet, “I wouldn’t go as far as that.”

Even the teasing mention of closeness was too much for Vistri to endure, and she hated him for it.

So of course she didn’t want to appear too eager! She waited a whole other day before proposing another late-night snack. Astarion took it to be a reward for his good behavior; not coming back for seconds before he was asked.

The anticipation ate at them even worse after they agreed it would happen that night, and it itched at them all day. Unfortunately, Astarion was a bit of a stress-eater, and quite literally bit off more than he could chew with a large bear that evening before they met up. Draining it just barely replaced what he'd lost, which left him punch drunk and dizzy from his own bloodlessness. Their fun was put off for another night.

Much to the vexation of both.

He didn’t want to wake her that second time, not because he didn’t want her to be present, but because he was doing his best not to be an inconvenience. Vistri wasn’t offended either; he was so obviously sure he was doing her a favor. Oh, but she wanted to be awake for it! Not asleep, not in trance, but there feeling his—

Shit. Bad thoughts! No, no, no.

It was nothing. He meant nothing. She was nothing but a source of sustenance. Vistri had a purpose, and that was that.

She was food.

But then… So was that bandit earlier. Now he was food. Astarion drunk him dry with little grace. Ripped his screaming throat from out of his neck, and the spray went everywhere! Tonight he would gently creep up to her in the dark, at her behest, and take only a little while trying his best not to cause her to stir. It was quite the contrast.

That bandit was a meal. Vistri was a treat.

Then what was this even all for?

Vistri shooed away her curiosity before it meant she had to answer that question herself.

Waiting impatiently in her bedroll, eyes shut tight, Vistri could feel her heart pounding as if it was berating her for their present circumstances.

Oh, hush! she thought, arguing back.

This wasn’t her best performance, pretending to be in the midst of trance as she was. Her focus was elsewhere, searching for his presence through her pores. Her mind froze when Astarion finally began to approach. Even without seeing, she knew he was there; could feel his proximity before he touched her. The very air changed around him, like a storm cloud. Her senses filled with something herbal and sweet, then brandy and heat as his chest crept over hers.

She held her breath, even though deep breathing was the telltale sign of trance. Vistri thought he caught her, sensing him pause for a moment. Then she reasoned she was probably making that up.

But she didn’t. He did pause. Not because he noticed she wasn’t breathing, but because he still wasn’t quite sure this was all really happening. Not just some mad trick of the tadpole.

He swallowed and let himself lean carefully down, until his body pressed into hers. He could feel her heart beating frantically, but in his distraction, it didn’t give her away. Astarion just took it as a sign she was alive. That this really was all real.

His lips met her neck before his fangs. Vistri held back a shiver, taking a deep breath against it. She stifled a moan as one hummed quietly in Astarion’s throat. She could feel it vibrate on hers, neck to neck. Feel her life and power flow into him and through him. Power. Pleasure.

It was palpable.

Astarion’s tongue moved against her skin, swallowing her.

She even lost herself for a moment. As her mind flew blissfully away, her fingers, those sluts, found their way up into his curls.

Her hands grasped the sides of his head. Vistri wasn’t trying to push him away, she just needed to brace herself against the loss of gravity. Astarion didn’t even notice at first. It just felt like part of the whole thing. It was her sudden movement as she jerked them back that brought his attention to her wakefulness.

“Are you not in your trance?” he asked in the crook of her neck.

“No,” she answered with her eyes still closed, “Do you want me to be?”

She was truly the most curious thing to him. Was she pretending to be in a trance to please him? While allowing him to drink from her? Who does that? Astarion smirked, shaking his head, “I thought you’d prefer…”

Vistri opened her eyes and looked into his. She’d been warned her whole life about elves with red eyes.

“No, I—” she blushed, “I mean, it’s quite fun. Is it not?”

“It is?”

Curiouser and curiouser.

She nodded.

“Well, that’s nice to hear.”

“Do you want to-?” Vistri gestured to her neck.

“Right, yes,” Astarion said, clearing his throat. Regaining his cool, he slyly suggested, “Why don’t you crawl into my lap?”

Vistri couldn’t breathe.

Her non-answer was a glorious victory. Astarion could tell he had an effect, a sway over her somehow. He tilted his head back, smiling with confidence, “You do want it, don’t you?”

Lightheaded, Vistri gave in and sat across his knees. Grinning, Astarion grabbed her up into his arms and dipped her dramatically with a slight growl. Vistri giggled, too loudly, and he cupped a hand over her mouth.

He shushed her, “Be still now.”

First, he brought his lips back to her throat. Then his tongue. Then his fangs.

A moan escaped Vistri this time. One, warm hand cradled the back of her neck as he drank from the front of it.

He promised it would be just a taste, and it was just a taste. She didn’t even have to hold him back this time. Astarion stopped on his own accord, before she was ever in any real danger.

When she opened her eyes, Astarion had stars in his. Just a little bit of her, and he was an entirely new person.

Self-satisfied, Vistri grinned, “You’re welcome.”

Sitting up, her head swayed forward like a drunkard and almost smashed into his skull.

“Oh, there you go,” he muttered, steadying her.

Vistri looked up at him, her face so close to his. “I’m okay,” she answered before he could ask.

“Don’t try to get up just yet. You’ll take another tumble, and who knows if I’m feeling generous enough to catch you again.”

“Bastard,” she laughed weakly.

Vistri could smell her blood on his breath. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes so the only thing in existence was the scent lingering between them. She couldn’t imagine liking this so much with anyone el—She shot up so fast, suddenly standing to escape those thoughts.

“Careful!”

Astarion must have been feeling generous because he caught her a second time.

“Oops,” she said, embarrassed.

“You ought to take better care of yourself, darling. I’m invested now.” Funny thing, that wasn't even a lie. He'd never met someone like her before.

Vistri met his grin with performative suspicion, “How heartening.”

Astarion's eyes followed the words as they bounced off her lips. He smiled realizing they were perfectly painted instead of washed clean.

She either swayed or leaned closer. Even Vistri couldn't tell if it was blood loss or an intentional inching of her feet.

“You look a bit peaked,” Astarion said nervously.

“Yes,” Vistri sighed, standing so near, “Off to bed I go.”

Even the air between them pounded. They stayed very still. His breath turned into her breath.

Then Astarion broke the spell, stepping back with narrowed eyes, “Sweet dreams, then.”

“Sweet dreams.”

But there were no dreams.

Just forbidden thoughts that ran endlessly through their minds, until even their muscles ached.