#he touched her and found out it burned and then he continued. truly a hero of our time

[the-lightless-flame]

thinking rn about how agnes fully had a dad. like who was he. iirc literally the only things we know ab him is that he had a child with eileen montague and that he had been 'dealt with' by the time eileen was five months pregnant

he seems like he wasn't a part of the cult. so who was he? was he her husband? boyfriend? some random guy? did he know beforehand that eileen was a part of the cult or did he not know what he was getting into?

either way this presumably regular ass man managed to get someone who burns to the touch pregnant which i mean. respect

[umbralaether]

When he came to her the night the first Light Warden was defeated, he had pinned her against the wall in a frenzy of heated kisses and when pressed, whispered to her that she was nothing more than a weapon kept by the sides of lesser men to be used in their wars. The spiteful words he whispered in the hush of tender nights were always followed with saccarine sweet lips on her skin, and certainly made it difficult to decipher what it truly was that kept him coming back.

You have always been used by these mortals, my dear, and what have you gotten in exchange?

Any answer she may have had drowned in her throat when his mouth met hers again. She wants to drink him in, drown in the heavy buzz of lust emanating from their aether. Though it was the worst thing she could do, the warrior of Light found herself deeply infatuated with her Ascian ally - and as much as she tried not to, her fondness grew.

She wants to ask how he would know this, and how else you use a weapon. As soon as she has the thought his hands work their way into her hair and he pulls, forcing her eyes to his, "I wonder what it is that distracts you so?"

She ponders her answer briefly before saying, "I suppose you know how I should be used."

He digs deeper into her hair, gaze darkening with lust, "Be careful what you say, Hero. You may find I am easily tempted."

Apparently, so was she.

—

He furrows his brow at the realization that this soul was different than the shards of it he had found in the past. She had always been selfless, fighting for the hopes of others and rallying those around her to better life for all. She just wouldn't remember doing so for the life that really mattered - the one they had shared.

It makes him uneasy when he sees her do the same to the unworthy beings of Norvrandt, even more so as it mirrors the first path to her end. He knows deep down she could do so much more than save this sundered world, if only she knew. She could reclaim what was taken from her - what she was forced to forget.

The primals enthrall those they touch, and the Mother Crystal engulfs her.

"They should not be wasting a soul such as yours. They don't even ask your permission before sending you to your death." He says one night, curled beside her. He runs fingertips down the length of her bare form, his touch as cold as his words were meant to be. It is hard to look at her with the way the light pours through the cracks of her soul. A fever ever burning and untouched by all remedies sits just below her skin, made worse with three Wardens dead.

The Light is killing her. She knows it, and he knows it too.

"They need not ask, I'm supposed to help them. It's my only way out of here." She entwines her hand with his, bringing it up to place a kiss upon the back of it, "Besides, I walked away unharmed and I won did I not?"

Golden eyes open with the gesture. He frowns, knows she is aware of the damage already done to her from these trials, "Just look what you've done to your aether. You practically glow."

"I am fine," she says plainly, looking away. A clear deflection.

"If you say so, hero."

They both know she is lying.

—

"He doesn't love you, you know that right?" Ardbert never means for his true feelings to seep through, yet the disapproval is palpable. The crossed arms and furrowed brows did nothing to help suggest otherwise either.

"So much for privacy," she mutters.

"You let him do these things to you that will only end in a painful conclusion… do you despise yourself so much to let him use you?"

"It's none of your business whom I spend my time with."

"It is when the world my friends died saving are at stake."

"I know what I'm doing," as unsure as she sounds, there is something she can’t quite define that keeps her on this path.

Ardbert shakes his head. No, you really don’t.

—

"We can't keep doing this," she whispers.

He ignores her, continues to kiss down her jaw as he follows her pulse, easy to find as it races for him. The raging heat beneath her skin permeates into her aether, delicious against the ice that grips his own. Perhaps that is truly why he's kept this game up so long - the feel of her aether only grew more addictive as the raging Light enhanced it, and it's absence was agony. There will be no unwinding her fragmented soul from his, and that left only one other option that he did not dwell on.

Her entire being aches from the Light absorbed, pinpricks of pure sun piercing. With one warden left still she wants to give up - let the exhaustion claim her, finally sleep. Never should she have been responsible for the fate of any world. Her fingers weave their way into his hair, running through the strands in an attempt to soothe her anxiety.

“What was it like, this other life we had?”

A question he dreaded answering for it was impossible to describe in words alone. To describe paradise to her would be as easy as explaining colors to a man blind his whole life.

“It was a paradise beyond your comprehension, dear. There is nothing to compare it to.”

She closes her eyes, picturing the spires atop the tallest of buildings, the glimmering lights from afar. Her dreams had been consumed by these images, of two blurry figures in the distance, and of one word she could only assume was a name.

“I called you Hades, didn’t I?”

It shouldn’t have stung as much as it did, to hear his name spoken aloud for the first time in decades. He’s aware he’s gone motionless, and she doesn’t need to press any further.

She knows it’s true.

—

The days rush forward.

She makes her choice to save them. Save herself.

It’s confusing, conflicting. Why does it feel like she’s done this before, making the wrong choice and disappointing him?

There’s no time to ponder, as she faces him again and knows it’s the last time they’ll do this. She’s tired, limbs burning and lungs heaving. The glowing axe pierces through Hades’ chest and it’s as though she’s being carved hollow. His smile is soft, gentle, almost foreign on his face and she hurts even further.

He says to remember and as much as it pains her, she knows she’ll never forget.

[valorxdrive]

❝ Taiyou-kun? ❞

The hum of the vehicle, nary a jostle with the chauffer's smooth turns. She had seen Sora take cat naps in car rides, to stave off the restlessness of being forced to sit in such a cramped space, but today his eyes were glued to the window at his brow.

❝ Are you thinking about earlier? ❞

A mess was certainly a way to describe it. But the officers she spoke to elected to refer to them as the remains of some novice devil hunters. Had it been up to her, she might not have brought Sora along for something like this, but the two of them had already been out in the area, and in truth she just wanted to get it over with so they could clean up the streets.

She had considered the possibility, that for Sora this was much more than a lost cause. So she speaks gently to him within the car.

❝ Do you wish we could have done something for them? ❞

".........."

He doesn't provide an immediate answer, throat too constricted, thoughts too heavy. Somehow it's within the monotony of the passing visage of this car's window that brings focus. Even now, such vivid clashes of that horrendous sight, of seeing blood carelessly paraded all over and the many, many mangled and torn limbs scattered like some overcompensated victory, it was a bitter lesson that found itself often clamming itself as a reminder. That rancid stench peppered with the smog of flame or the heated sting of metal, part of Sora hates how easily that image gets burned into the mind.

Any need to quell his exhaustion or the prolonged trips in a restrained space doesn't hit him. "That.. Yeah." This internal exhaustion was a touch too heavy to bother trying to falsify. "I.. Don't want to get used to something like that, like this city has to in a way.."

Truth would inevitably spill from the starseeking hero. Compared to many more emotions that lash out in thorny penance, or be in a measure of chilled and disturbed at the inherent wrongness of it all, the mere idea of being adjusted truly does scare him. It was a price of letting too much experience attempt being a balm to keep many pressing on.

Makima's voice somehow manages to be a balm in times like this. For an instant their 'fight' could be put to the side, and the injured emotion of the sky would readily and foolishly lean onto those willing to talk. As he places a frustrated grip at his pants legs, he turns, allowing for the blue of his eyes to briefly get lost in gold.

In moments like these, he doesn't bother to try looking away.

"Their hearts.. Aren't here." The phrase in itself would be a mystery, thought not being placed on his facade of keeping this away from her. Maybe it was a sore need to foster trust after this determination to be distant? Sora wasn't bothering to give it any extended thought as he props up a bit more from the leather seats. "A presence I feel.. Heartless carry them, but with these devils? It's as if they're vanishing to a place they can never return.."

Do you wish we could have done something for them?

"!!" His teeth mildly bare themselves before the steam of his sigh spills between them. "Like you'd even have to wonder. How can things just try to continue so normally.. As if these haunting things don't even matter?" Even the measure of Devil Hunters felt- how does he even word it? Too normal? Too ingrained and accepted instead of being lorded with higher importance for security?

It could be ignorance of this World's Order talking.

@makimavellic

[yzafre]

we're flying above the valley below | Ch 6

AO3

First | Previous

They were diverted to another world quickly after leaving Buzz and Woody behind.  More movement from the Organization had popped up; Donald and Goofy would continue the Princess diplomatic missions, as Keyblade wielders they were needed on the more hostile missions.

Kairi held her breath when they touched down, trying to brace for any more weird transformations, but nothing seemed to change.  A normal world, a normal city.

Well, she amended, perhaps a remarkable city.  It stretched across the horizon and up into the sky, perched at the end of a long, large bridge and made hazy by the distance.  It was beautiful, the sun sparkling off the glass in the hundreds of high-rises.

It would have been more beautiful if the road around them wasn’t filled with destruction.

Because, she was learning, it was impossible to reach a new world without finding trouble immediately.

When the heartless were defeated, they were shuffled off by the local hero team – Big Hero 6 – to a small garage hideout.

Hiro – the one who had enthusiastically brought them in, quickly introduced the others – Gogo, Wasabi, Honey Lemon, and Fred.

“So, uh,” He shuffled a bit, smiling up at them shyly, “Who are you guys?”

“Us?” Sora stuttered, “Uh – we are… the, uh – “

Oh, no.  She knew where this was going – Sora would insist on a name, and it would be horrible; better get ahead of that.  What could they be called – something unique to them – the Hollow Bastion Restoration Committee came to mind, but they were more allies than a part of that.  Still, there was an idea there – using a place as part of the name.  And, if it was them, it had to be –

“The Destiny Trio.”

Everyone turned to look at her.  Big Hero 6 were obviously confused, but the delight she could feel dawning in Sora was mirrored on his face.

“Trio?  But there’s only two of you.”

It stung – they should be three.  Swallowing down the tightness in her chest, she reached out, brushing against Riku, wherever he was, her longing met with a distracted pass of affection.

“Our third is off on another mission right now,” she said, finally.

“That explains the wings,” Honey sighed, “I had wondered.  We’ve got a few people bonding at our University, but I’ve never seen a Flight so young.”

“Is it strange?” Sora wondered.

It was, Kairi knew.  Back at school, people talked and giggled about the possibilities, but there was no real weight behind the ‘someday’s and ‘maybe’s.  Everyone knew it wouldn’t happen any time soon, if at all.

She’d been different, she remembered.  Those first weeks alone, it had been a certainty that her future was already out there, fighting to come home to her.  Even after, during those dark days when a hole burned its way through her memories, her heart, the level of certainty she had, didn’t change.  It simply inverted.  A feeling of “never”, that she’d found her fate and lost it already.

What a blessing, to have been wrong.

“Back to business,” GoGo said, “The monsters, tell us how you managed to take them down.”

And that… that wasn’t easy to answer.  Sora explained about the heartless, but the real issue was that you needed a Keyblade to truly be effective against them.  Hiro insisted their team needed to help, but, as it was…

“Training arc,” Fred insisted, “That’s how it works – when the heroes are brought low, they train up for new powers.

Training… Kairi thought back to the last world, how easily Xehanort had beaten her.  I could use more of that, too.

“Okay,” she said, “But, I’m not sure if you’ll be able to copy what we do.  How are you planning to do this?”

Hiro grinned, “I’ve got an idea – here, put this on.”

“So, I know you have wings, but would you mind not using them for this?” Hiro’s voice came in, scratchy over the radio in her ear as Kairi adjusted the headset, “It’s just, I need to get data within the range of what we’re capable of.”

“Sure, no problem!” Sora said.  He was bouncing on his toes beside her, eager grin on his face, eyes darting between the various simulated lights that were slowly appearing on their visors.

Kairi adjusted the headpiece one more time before shaking out her hands, “What about using them in the same way ghost-wings work?”

Hiro hummed on the other end of the line, “That should be okay.  But don’t forget and go overboard, okay?”

“Well, in that case maybe Sora should avoid it altogether.”

“Wha – hey!”

She ignored his sputtering protests, focus sharpening as the markers on their visors began to condense.

“Well, either way, get ready,” Hiro said, “I’m starting the program… now.”

Numbers appeared in the closest circle, counting down – 5, 4, 3 – Kairi leaned forward on her toes.  Anticipation thrilled through her, bringing her back to younger days, racing along the beach.  The pavement was much firmer than sand, but the feeling of excitement was the same.

“Ready, Sora?”

“Ready!”

2, 1 – the markers lit up, and Kairi pulsed her wings once, the air shooting her forward into a sprint.  The pounding of her pulse I her ears nearly drowned out Sora whooping behind her.

Only a few months in, and she realized how accustomed she’d become to her wings.  Navigating the course laid out on foot felt slow, but there was nothing for it.  Another leap and pulse of her wings lead her on to the overpass – where Sora suddenly sped by.

“What?”

“C’mon, keep up, Kairi!”

Sparks flew from his feet as he grinded along the railing, jumping off as the course curved over to the other side of the path, spreading his wings and gliding along the trail.

“Ah, Sora, watch the wings,” Hiro called over the line.

“Oh, right!”

He folded his wings back in and landed hard on the railing, skidding a few inches before he had to leap off and run, which let her quickly catch up and overtake him.

They chased each other through the course, trading position back and forth – every time she’d pull ahead, he’d pull out some trick she’d never seen before, cutting corners and overtaking her.  Short jaunts up walls, taking advantage of the environment, precise jumps on the smallest footholds – his agility was more than she’d ever seen.

If only he could keep his attention span long enough to remember to keep his wings away.

“No wings, Sora,” Hiro sighed, and Kairi giggled over Sora’s sheepish apology.

Kairi… well, she was faster than him on foot, but she wasn’t having as much luck keeping up with his tricks, she mused, watching him dart up the side of the building using a combination of small decorative ledges and short wall-runs.

But then, she wasn’t without her own abilities.

Reeling back, she threw her Keyblade, sending it flying upwards as far as she could.  Up, up – the moment she saw it change direction, she gathered her magic and pushed, pulling herself to the anchor.  Coming out of the warp halfway up a building was disorienting, her wings coming out instinctively, even as she threw her Key again, warping as quickly as she could. 

One, two, three jumps, and she made it to the top of the building, her aim a bit off at the last jump, leaving her thankful she had her wings out to catch her and close the last few inches between herself and the edge of the roof.

It felt like her skin was vibrating, heart beating fast as she leaned over, panting despite the fact that move didn’t take much from her, physically.  Sora appeared over the edge a few moments later, grinning wide.

“That was so cool!  You’ve gotta show me how to do that!”

“That was impressive,” Hiro’s voice crackled in her ear, “But, Kairi, could you tuck your wings back in?”

“Oh, sorry!”

“Yeah, Kairi, watch the wings!” Sora jeered.

She snorted a laugh, “I don’t want to hear that from you.”

“Heh… c’mon, I think we’re almost to the end!”

When they got back to the hideout, Big Hero 6 immediately began gathering around Hiro’s computer, chattering excitedly over each other.  Sora and Kairi exchanged glances before tucking themselves into the couch in the corner to give them space. 

Sora couldn’t still long without fidgeting, eventually resorting to digging through his pockets.  Potions, extra bits of gear, all things she expected – but also a tangle of little keychains.

“What’re those?” she asked.

“Hm?  Oh, they’re… well, I’m not exactly sure how they work, but they change my Keyblade when I attach them.”

“I see.  Where’d you get them?”

“Hmm, well… I dunno, they kind of just… appear, as I’m traveling and meeting people.  Usually when I help people out with a problem.  Like, I got this one as we were leaving Buzz and Woody.”

“Huh,” she murmured, eyes growing heavy.  Sora continued to chatter, telling stories as she untangled each cord.  Despite her best attempts to listen, the world began to blur around her.  She’d had almost fallen asleep when the sharp trilling of their ring tone went off.

After a brief scramble, they finally managed to figure out who was being called, joy rushing through them as they answered.

“Riku!”

“So, did Yen Sid have any answers for you?  About your Keyblade?”

“Well, I’m… not entirely sure I understood, to be honest,” Riku said.  The infinite back drop of the rift Yen Sid lived in stretched behind him, “He said something about… the reforging of the soul?”

“Yeah, he can be pretty cryptic,” Sora agreed, “But I know you’ll figure it out.”

Riku sighed, “I hope so.  We really can’t afford to wait.”

“So, you’ll be going back to the realm of darkness soon?”

“Yeah.  We’re going to stop by Radiant Garden so Mickey can check in with the crew there, and I’m going to pick up the armor you mentioned, but then…”

“I see.  Stay safe, then,” Kairi said.

“Aw, Riku will be fine – he’s strong!  I just wish we could come with you.”

“What you’re doing is important, too.”

“I know, but – “

Across the room, the computer started to emit a series of shrill beeps, sending Hiro frantically rushing over.

“Looks like you guys are about to get busy,” Riku said, his heart reaching out to brush against theirs, “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay,” Kairi said, reaching back.                     

Love you.

Riku’s face softened.

I love you, too.

“There’s absolutely no sign that anyone from outside our group got into the Castle, no matter how hard I look.”

Riku wasn’t really sure how to feel about Ienzo.  He seemed invested in helping them out, but every time he saw his face, he was reminded of Castle Oblivion, of a trick in an illusion of his home, and ice slithered down his spine.  Thankfully, Ienzo seemed to feel similarly, and they could largely avoid each other.

But not always.

“Have Aeleus or Dilan found anything in Vex – ah, Even’s room?” Riku asked.

“No.  He agrees – there’s no intrusion from the outside that he can find.”

“Then, if it didn’t come from the outside,” Riku hesitated, but he had to ask, “Could it be that Even chose to leave?”

“He wouldn’t,” Ienzo protested, but it was weak, “Or… that’s what I want to say, but – the years in the Organization affected all of us differently.  I want to believe he wouldn’t leave us behind, but I guess I can’t be sure.”

“I suppose it doesn’t matter too much, in the end.  Either way, the Organization has access to his research, and the replicas.”

“Yes.  Speaking of which, we’ve almost finished formatting our replica.  I’ll admit I was worried we wouldn’t be able to manage, at first, but it seems Master Ansem recorded almost as much data on Naminé as the Organization had.”

“Yeah,” Riku said, stomach squirming.  He had a lot of regrets, from that year.  Hated how much he’d forcefully blinded himself.  One of the last conversations he’d had with Naminé echoed in his ears:

“Where is she?  Where is Kairi?”

“The Organization has her now.” 

“You didn’t go after her?” 

“I told her we should run.  She chose to go back for Axel.  I, more than anyone, know what lengths they’ll go to in order to keep someone captive.  I couldn’t go back to that – not when it's taken a year to win my freedom.”

“A year?  You’ve been out of Organization hands since last fall.” 

“I don’t mean them.”

“What?”

“You think DiZ would have ever willingly let me go?” 

So blind.  As a kid, Kaiki had accused him of tunnel-vision.  He understood, now.  Had it really only been a year?  He felt like a whole different person.  Shaking his head, he turned back to Ienzo.

“Good.  Maybe Ventus will be here to greet Aqua once we rescue her.”

“You’re not staying?  We should be ready for the transfer in twenty-four to forty-eight hours.””

“No,” he said, “We need to get to Aqua as soon as possible.  I’ll see Naminé when we get back.”

Coward, his heart whispered.  And perhaps he was.

It lingered with him, and he found himself diverting to the lab where Naminé’s body was lain out.  He wasn’t expecting company.

“Dilan.  What are you doing here?”

The man startled, turning to look at him sharply.

“Ah, Riku.  I’m patrolling to make sure there are no intrusions; we can’t be too careful.”

“True,” Riku said.  For a moment, they stared silently down at the empty replica, until he sighed.  Brooding would do nothing – he’d apologize when she was awake.

“Dilan, since you’re here, would you mind helping me to the basement?”

“…yes.  This way.”

Kairi had said the basement was creepy; she might have understated the situation.

At the bottom of what seemed like endless stairs was a small room, containing only a set of earth-colored armor, its head tilted towards the door.  There was a weight to its stare.  Steeling himself, Riku pressed onwards, kneeling by its side and peering into void beyond the visor.

Xeha….nort?

The air turned sharp, threatening, the aura pressing down around him.

“No, I’m not Xehanort.  Though, I have encountered him.  My name is Riku.”

Riku...  Successor.

The air changed, just as charged, just as focused, but almost anticipatory.  Terra’s armor – was this some shade of Terra, left behind?

“I’m going to save Aqua, but I need some help.  Will you let me wear the armor, so I can reach her.”

There was recognition, but no response.  But if this was supposed to be Terra, then, why?  Unless….

“You asked about Xehanort.  The truth is, we’re trying to stop him.”

Xehanort…

The aura surged, powerful – Riku would call it hatred, except it was too empty to be that.  It was nothing but pure, concentrated will.

You will bring me to Xehanort.  We will defeat him.

“Yes,” Riku answered.

There was no other option.  He refused to accept any other fate.

The amour began to glow, then vanished, leaving only a pauldron behind. 

It was strange to wear it, but by the time they got to the top of the stairs the constant awareness had begun to fade.  Dilan was pulled away but Aeleus, and Riku turned to the front to reunite with Mikey.

It was time to return to the Realm of Darkness.

Heartless were crawling all over the city.  The roofs, the little alleys, parading down the streets – no matter where they turned, they found another infestation.

And then there was… something else?

For the fifth time, something shifted in Kairi’s peripheral vision, only to find empty space when she turned.

“Did you see that?”

“See what?” Sora asked, cutting through the last turret before jogging to her side.

“I could have sworn… no, it’s nothing.”

“If you say so.  Hiro, where to next?”

Static crackled in her ear, before his voice came in, “Let’s see, the team have the southern half of the city covered.  It looks like we have growing reports a bit west of you, if you can head – “

An explosion echoed across the city.  They could see the light, even from here, and hear the distant din of screaming.

“Change of plans,” Hiro said, “Head towards that explosion.  I’ve got some of the team redirecting that way as well, to help with the fires.”

“Got it!”

When they touched down, Fred and Honey Lemon were already there, working together to try and get the blaze under control.  They weren’t having much luck, as the strange creatures at the center kept interfering and adding to the chaos.

“We’re here,” Sora called, “Where are the others?”

Honey Lemon generated another ball, which exploded in a cloud of foam, suffocating the flames, before turning to them, “They’re still taking care of the heartless in the southern district.  Fred and I are the best for damage control here – but do you two think you can contain that monster?”

Kairi nodded as Sora pumped his fist, “Leave it to us!”

They leaped in together.  Kairi reached for Sora through their bond, finding him reaching back, their hearts beating together.  One from above, one from below, passing feelings back and forth together – anticipation, wariness, determination – every step was in concert.

She’d fallen so deep into the pattern, she nearly flinched when Hiro’s voice crackled in her ear.

“Wait, something’s weird about this one….”

He went quiet – but apparently forgot to disconnect, because she could hear him tapping away at the keyboard, and then the quiet horrified whisper:

“No… microbots?”

“You know what they are?” Sora chimed in, and Kairi winced as Hiro sucked in a sharp breath, the microphone audio peaking.

“I might, but… they should be gone forever.”

“Okay,” Kairi said, “Do you know how to stop it?”

“I – I’m not sure.  Let me see what I can find.”

“Great!” Wasabi cut in over the line, “Because I think there’s more of them.”

“Definitely more of them,” Gogo said, “I’m – ugh!  Getting cornered over here.”

“We’ll come help!” Sora said.

Kairi frowned, “But, what about the ones here?”

“You’ll have to split up,” Hiro decided.

Kairi exchanged a pained look with Sora, but she could feel the determination building in him behind the reluctance.

“You handle things here,” he said, and she nodded even as he spread his wings.

“Be safe,” she said.

“You, too.”

“Okay,” Hiro spoke up some time later, “I think I figured it out.  Somewhere in there is a core - that’s the only way to hurt it.  I’ll be over there soon!”

“No, Hiro,” Gogo’s voice came in sharp across the line, “We need you there – you need to figure out how the microbots got out, and how we can make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

“I can’t just leave you out there alone!”

“Hiro.  We are a team – and teams delegate.  We need you at the garage.  We trust you, so you trust us.”

Listen to her, Kairi thought, an ache in her chest she didn’t understand, Listen to her, don’t try to do it alone.

“Okay,” he said, and a sigh of relief went up from all across the line, “For now, I’m going to put a marker on your visors – it should show you where the core is.”

Kairi lost track of how long she’d been keeping these microbots contained, when suddenly they froze – then turned, rushing away.

“Uh, guys?” Wasabi said, “Anyone else seeing this?”

“Hah!  They’re running scared!” Fred crowed.

“No,” Hiro said, “They’re converging.  Here.”

A map popped up in the corner of her vision, a marker placed on top of a tall tower.  They all convened at that point – Kairi with her half of the team, Sora with his, to find the microbots swirling around a short figure in a dark coat, dropping something into his hands.

“The black coat – he’s back?” GoGo hissed.

“You’ve seen him before?” Sora asked.

Kairi kept her eyes pinned on the Organization member as their heads towards them, gleaming yellow eyes staring out at them from beneath the hood.

“Hey,” he called, “Are you done messing around?”

“That voice - !”

Kairi found herself reaching for Riku instinctively, even as she knew it was an impossibility.  Riku reached back, confused but accommodating, and she held him close, unable to explain.

“Hmph,” he knocked back the hood, revealing silver hair and a familiar face.

“Riku?” Sora wondered, “Is… Is this more time traveling?”

“Huh,” the Organization said, “maybe you’re not as dumb as I thought you were.”

But that didn’t sit right.  Something was wrong with that.  He looked like Riku.  That was his voice, but – the tilt of his head, the roll of his shoulders, the inflections – it wasn’t right. 

And yet, behind her own feelings, another heart leapt in recognition, as if nothing could be more right.  There was a tug in her chest, a magnetic pull, coming from somewhere deep inside her.  Suddenly, the dissonance clicked into place.

“No,” she said, voice not entirely her own, that foreign heart beating wildly, “That’s not Riku.”

Hitoshi…

Next

[bxckybarness]

What I Missed - Loki Laufeyson

summary: while in custody at the TVA, loki realizes what he misses from the future, only to be surprised by what he gets in the present

word count: 2100+

warnings: a little angsty, a little emotional, mention of loki’s death, episode 1 spoilers

Today was certainly not Loki’s day.

Over the course of a few hours (or more, or less, this is the TVA, afterall) he had been in the custody of the Avengers, had happened upon the Tesseract and escaped from New York. It seemed too good to be true, and it was. Just when he thought he had truly outsmarted the Earthly heroes again, he was imprisoned and taken again.

Now here he was, under the supervision of the Time Variance Authority and one, Mobius, a bizarre administrator in charge of tracking down the most dangerous of variants. It all seemed like madness to Loki. He was used to silly games and grandiose tricks but this story of timelines and space lizards seemed beyond even his own trickery. It seemed downright absurd. And annoying.

He had been subject to what he would call an interrogation. Mobius, however, called it a simple conversation. A slideshow of his life, his “greatest hits” as Mobius had called it and a relentless fire of questions, the memory of which continued to burn in his memory:

Should you return, what are you going to do?

King of Midgard? Then what, happily ever after?

King of Space?

Why does someone with so much capability just want to rule?

Do you enjoy hurting people?

That one had burned most of all. Did he enjoy hurting people? Hardly. And it was upsetting to him that anyone would think that. But he also understood what he appeared to be to every other living creature. He had just relived the moment in which he killed that daft agent and his mother. His mother. He refused to believe he was at fault for that. Frigga was the only person who truly saw him and whom Loki cared for deeply. But it seemed so clear in the moving picture, he had led them right to her.

It was in that moment, with tears and rage in his eyes, he knew he needed to get out of the disastrous time circus. He no longer cared to be a monkey in this ring. If he could find the tesseract, he could escape and be free once again.

That plan had gone almost perfectly. The only thing that went wrong - there is no magic in the TVA. No matter how many times he held the tesseract in his hands, wishing it to take him back to Midgard or Asgard, he was met with nothing but the bland walls in this TVA Time Theater. There was no hope in escaping.

Feeling exhausted, Loki slowly moves toward the table in the center of the room. He sits down and admires the machine in front of him. As grim as the stories it held could be, it was still quite fascinating that it could replay the highlights from his life - in a weird way, at least. He reaches out and turns the knob, searching for the moment his mother dies. He finds it and watches in silence for a while, tears beginning to fall down his face.

He turns the knob again.

He sees a future version of himself sitting next to his father and Thor. He watches as his father declares his love for his sons. Sons, plural. Both Thor and him. A small smile graces Loki’s face before Odin disappears, leaving the two men behind. Loki holds back a sob as tears continue to flood from his eyes. His father did love him, did see purpose for him. He wasn’t just the mischievous son. He’s sad that it took this long to understand that, and sad that he never got to experience this himself, even if a future version of him did.

Another turn of the knob.

This scene immediately feels different. He sees a garden, full of life, beautiful flowers blooming in every direction. He sees himself, sitting under a tree smiling next to a young woman. As the scene progresses he realizes this version of him is smiling at you. He lets out a small gasp when he watches the pair share a kiss and wipes the quickly falling tears from his cheeks. He had always loved you, but had never gotten the chance to tell you. The two of you had met through Thor, when he brought both you and Jane to Asgard. He had taken to you quickly, enjoying your similar sarcasm and humor - something that was scarce within his home realm. You, like his mother, had always seen the good in him and had understood his struggle. It was something he would never understand, you being of Midgard. You knew what he had done and had been there to see the destruction, but still saw him not as the God of Mischief or Earth Enemy #1, only Loki. He aches for the fact that he never got to feel the happiness his future self did, especially when it was happiness with you.

Turn the knob.

Loki and Thor stand in a room together. Loki lets out a small laugh in the midst of his tears, wondering how his oaf of a brother managed to lose an eye. Maybe a dumb bet between the two of them, maybe there was a battle amongst the nine realms. He’s quickly pulled from his thoughts as he hears Thor speak.

“Maybe you’re not so bad after all, brother.”

“Maybe not,” the future Loki responds.

“Thank you,” Thor replies, “If you were here, I might even give you a hug.”

“I’m here.”

Loki smiles and nods to himself. From where he’s sitting now, it’s a wonder that he and his brother ever made up. He realizes now that the fighting and the sibling rivalry may have all been in his head. He, again, curses himself for leaving New York and allowing himself to miss these moments that he’s been waiting his whole life for.

Fast-forward.

He and you lay in a room, seemingly on the same ship as the previous scene. You lay snug against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You hum softly before speaking up.

“I love you, you know.”

By the look on both of your faces, it’s the first time this has been said out loud. There’s nervous tension in the room, Loki can feel it through this screen. He somehow knows the words his future self is going to say before he hears them.

“I love you too, darling. You bring out the best in me.”

You snuggle closer to him, if that’s even possible, and there’s a comfortable silence for a few seconds. Loki takes a moment to admire this picture. It was something he had wanted since he had first met you on Asgard. You had stuck out like a sore thumb, dressed in your casual Midgardian clothes. He couldn’t have missed you even if he tried, nobody could have. And boy was he glad about that now.

“Promise me something,” he watches himself say.

“Anything,” you whisper. “Anything for you, Loki.”

“Promise me, no matter what, you’ll always help me see the good in myself. I’ve too long suffered at the hands of those who desperately wish for me to see the bad.”

You let out a laugh and the Loki stuck in time laughs with you, “Oh, Loki. I wish you could see yourself as I see you. But I promise.”

“Thank you, my love.”

“You, Loki, may be a God, but you will always just be the man I fell in love with. The good, kind, and honorable man I call mine.”

Turn, again.

Loki sees himself kneeling and before he can question why, he watches as his future self moves to attack someone in front of him. When Loki realizes it's Thanos, he’s quickly on his feet, moving closer to the screen. The tears are gone now, and a silent rage burns behind his eyes. There was nothing from Loki but hate for the purple titan. He watches in horror as Thanos picks Loki up from the floor, a death grip on his neck. Loki wonders to himself how he would get himself out of this scenario had he been there. He assumes an illusion would do the trick. However, he notices your distraught figure behind the mad titan. He can hear your screams as you kneel next to Thor, who is imprisoned in cuffs. He hears you call out to him and he knows this will not end well. His suspicions are right when he watches his death. A shocked gasp comes from his throat as the tape in front of him runs out, nothing left to show.

Loki quickly sits back down and closes his eyes, trying his hardest to process the vision he saw. To one version of him, these would have been experiences and now memories. To him, though, these were all subtle tastes of a life he lost. He lost a touching moment with his father and a long awaited declaration of love from him. He lost the reconciliation with his brother and the confession that they had been more partners than rivals. Even though to him it had not yet happened, he missed it all, and it upset him deeply.

What hurt Loki the most was the idea that he lost his chance to feel his love reciprocated. Loki had never had much luck with romance. He was often seen as the sly younger brother and was usually too occupied to try and compete with Thor for the maidens at court. When he met you, he thought he had a chance. You were the first woman who saw him as his own person and not just as Thor’s brother. The relationship between the two of you had blossomed quickly and he found himself always sneaking away from his princely duties to see you. He had shown you his favorite places in Asgard and had opened up to you in ways he had never done before. He loved you and wanted you to be his. His one regret was not initiating a relationship before you had left for Midgard. And he thought his chances had been ruined by his actions in New York. Oh, how wrong he was.

Before Loki can dwell on his future more, Mobius comes bursting into the room.

“Ah Loki, glad you made your way back here. I have something for you,” he says.

“If this is another one of your tricks, I’m not currently in the mood,” Loki responds coolly.

“Just trust me on this one.”

Mobius shouts over his shoulder for someone to “bring her in.” Loki eyes the guards who walk in suspiciously until he notices who they bring with them. He can hardly believe his eyes. The gods in all the realms must be smiling down on him today, after all, because there you stand. He takes in your hideous red and white space suit, emblazoned with the Avengers logo, and he’s at least thankful he missed whatever battle this suit was required for.

He quickly stands and rushes over to you, a smile quickly gracing his face. You meet his gaze with a smile that is just as big and tears begin to flow from your eyes.

“Loki,’ you start. “Is that really you?”

He nods and speaks, although his words are barely audible, “It’s me, my love.”

“God, I thought I lost you forever. That’s why I went back in time to find you.”

Loki nods, now, unable to believe what he’s hearing, “You went back to find me?”

“Yes, but look what good that did me,” you say with a smirk. Loki’s heart pulls and he feels he could fall over right there. Norns, he missed you and your witty humor.

“Well,” he says, reciprocating your sly attitude, “You found me did you not? I might not be the same Loki as you knew, but I am still Loki.”

“The good, kind, and honorable Loki that I call mine.”

Loki smiles and you move forward to give him a hug. You’re cautious, though, because you aren’t exactly sure what part of the timeline this Loki came from. Maybe you had already been dating, maybe not. That was something to figure out another time though.

“Alright then,” Mobius says from behind you, “Let’s get you two caught up on what you missed with each other.”

Today was certainly not Loki’s day. And he had cursed all that was good that he had ended up at the TVA, taken from the life he knew. But now? He didn’t mind. He knew the relationships that were broken with his brother and father had been mended, he knew that one version of him had sacrificed himself for good and he had you, not only in memory but in the flesh. And sure, you had lots to rediscover within your relationship, but you would do that together.

[goggles-mcgee]

In your Wish Me Away Au you said that Adrien can't believe that that is his reality, what exactly happened to him and Gabriel, as well as the class? Please and Thank You! ❤

Hi anon! I'm sorry this took so long to answer! I'm trying to go through all my asks now XD

So Adrien thought his life would be perfect. He was convinced the wish would bring his mother back, her and his father would be back to being how they were before she disappeared. Lovey dovey (if he had paid more attention he would have noticed how his mother was distancing him and her from Gabriel.) His father would be loving, attentive, and caring towards him. He would get the love of Ladybug after she saw that everything was fine after the Wish was made and they would finally get to be together. Finding out it was Marinette was a surprise but one he could work with. After all she was a great friend so he had no doubt they could form a great relationship if she showed her Ladybug side more often which she would because Ladybug had to be the real her. He would get to go to school and be happy with Ladybug and him and her would get to continue to be Paris’s beloved heroes.

Once the wish was made though? His mother did wake up but his father wasn't there and neither was Nathalie. Most worrying though was the fact that Ladybug wasn't there anymore either. He looked for her everywhere in the mansion. He helped his mother to a bed and get settled before he promised to explain everything once she rested before he had gone on a mad search across Paris to find Marinette. He was in more distress when he realized he no longer had the Cat Miraculous. He called Nino and tried to be nonchalant about asking if he knew where Marinette was or if she changed her number. It infuriated him when he wasn't given a positive answer. More so when Marinette’s number (or maybe her old number?) blocked him. In the end he had to return home and care for his mother. He tried explaining what happened but they got a call from the prison and it ended up being his dad! He couldn't leave his cell! And no one could get him out! They tried but they just found out he could make phone calls, so one of the guards gave him his phone while the rest tried to find Ladybug because this obviously had to be an akuma....no one said anything. Gabriel told Adrien to tell his mother everything.

So he did. It was to his surprise that she was not happy in the least. She refused to take his father's calls and she seemed really disappointed in him. But she agreed to help look for Ladybug with him. It wasn't until the broadcast when things went to hell. This fake Ladybug announced to Paris maybe even the whole world what his father did! And really? Bringing up silly school misunderstandings? No that didn't matter, what mattered was apparently Ladybug no longer existed. His mother cried. He threw a fit. There was no way she just disappeared. No way.

Then the burning sensation started. At first it was just an itch but then it grew and grew into a searing pain. He thought his finger was going go fall off! His mother was holding him and asking what was wrong as he held his hand close to his chest. It ended. And when it did he saw what happened. He had been marked. On his ring finger, where his ring used to sit, there was a burn in the shape of said ring so charred, so ugly, so red, there would be no way to hide it with makeup. No way to explain it off as an allergic reaction to some funky metal. Then there was a pain on his face. Shorter than the first pain, hurt all the same. When he looked in a mirror later on, he would see four scratch marks across his left cheek. It would be later that he would find out that he could not speak of the Miraculous. The only thing he could say about them was he was the traitor Chat Noir. He would be plagued by bad luck, some days better than others. It would depend on his actions of the day. Minimal bad luck would be him helping people out to be genuine and not because he wanted to look good. The worst luck would be if he was being deceitful, massively selfish, or came at anybody with ill intent. Even if he just thought of anything malicious, bad luck would follow. If he ever tried to place blame on his situation on anyone other than himself he would hear all the negative thoughts everyone in Paris ever had of him. Everything Marinette had ever made him turned to ash.

Gabriel woke up in a maximum security prison cell. None of his personal belongings on him. It was as infuriating as it terrifying. He called out to anyone who was listening and several guards rushed in in a panic. They tried to get him out but if they managed to open the cell door he found he couldn't take a step out without searing pain. If anyone tried to step in, it was like an invisible wall prevented them, so one of the guards slid him their cellphone so he could notify his family what was going on. They all thought it was an akuma so he let them continue to believe that. He fully believed Adrien, Nathalie, and Emilie would visit him in all the confusion. But Adrien was the only one who would talk to him. Emilie refused and apparently Nathalie had disappeared. Then the broadcast happened.

The guards no longer slipped him special meals, fresh clothes, the phone he had been using was magically taken away and given back to the guard who had lent it to him. He was a prisoner there. Fully. He couldn't believe it. He tried to call for Nooroo to no avail. He tried to call on Tikki, Plagg, the godforsaken voices he spoke to before. Nothing. Then the pain happened and no one rushed to check on him. They stood there watching. When it was over he opened his uniform to see a burn on his chest in the exact shape of the Butterfly Miraculous. That was not all, when he removed the top of his uniform after feeling pain on his back, he was notified and shown that he had two slashes on his back...right where wings most likely would have sat. He mourned for Nathalie, he truly did not think she would have been a price... when he slept...if you could even call it that, he saw Nathalie, and everytime she sacrificed her happiness for his. He felt her love for him. He felt her pain everytime he rejected her. He felt the pain she was in once she started wearing the Peacock Miraculous.

Then there were the other things. He remembered Mlle Dupain-Cheng, but that was not all, he would see her possible futures, what she could have become if he had not taken her from the world. She had so much potential. He saw how many in Paris would have mourned her and how deeply if they kept their memories. And not just as Ladybug, oh no, there were many who would have mourned the baker's daughter because she truly touched that many lives. There were days he could not move because of pain. Pain he felt because he was reliving the victims of akuma attacks. There were moments were he felt he surely was going to die but he didn't. He never did. And he would hear a voice say he would live a long healthy life before he met his end. He would have days were he felt all the fear, the anguish, the hate, the anger that Paris held for him. It truly was torture. Then Emilie divorced him.

I'll do a separate post for the class I think!

[angelatsumu]

gala (m. izuku & b. katsuki)

hello friends! it's been a while, but i am back with some bakugo/izuku x reader food <3

warnings: NSFW! minors DNI or i will eat your whole family. fem!bodied reader, izuku called izzy, izzy calls reader puppy, cucking, thigh riding, m! masturbation, oral (f! giving), cumeating, mean bakugo, dom!izuku & dom!bakugo, very subby!reader, alcohol mention

NSFW under the cut, also not proofread <3

katsuki is not the nicest guy when his gorgeous girl is being so clingy to Deku

your giggle rings through his ears as he watches from across the room, the way you clung to Izuku's arm like a fragile doll was driving him mad. that dress hugged your curves too tight, inching up your side with every keen into izuku, and without thinking he'd slide his hand down and adjust it for you, hands ghosting over your curves. he knew what he was doing, having pro-hero Dynamight's special girl draped over his arm like some prize, some prize he hadn't truly won. katsuki's blood was boiling, but he knew he couldn't cause a scene. after all, Deku had mentioned the gala to him, and he seemed disinterested. when you brought it up, begging to be taken to your first hero gala, he brushed you off, claiming he didn't want to show you off to the world just yet. so, here you were, Deku's prize for the evening. knowing you decided to go with his comrade, Bakugo swore he would only go to the gala to be sure you were safe, that he wouldn't get jealous. the seething was telling a different story.

your emerald ballroom gown that hugged your curves so tightly got hitched on the swell of your thighs once more, catching enough to displace the thigh slit just enough for Deku to blush. once again his hand snaked around your hips, tugging the dress down only slightly, and this time his hand held its place on your hip. a blush rose to your cheeks as your sipped from the champagne flute in your hand, eyes scanning the room for your lover. you knew katsuki too well, and you knew he would be at the event the moment you agreed to Deku's invitation. your eyes met his, and he cut his eyes at you before rolling them. you immediately divert your attention back to Deku as he squeezed you closer to him, clearly aware of your boyfriend's presence. Izuku's touch made you feel hot, the lingering circles he traced into your hips with each flirtacious giggle and stolen glance. you'd be lying if your senses weren't intoxicated on Izuku's hero demeanor, finding yourself at the end of this desire to be saved by Deku.

"how 'bout some water, puppy? you've had quite a few of those." the comment itself was innocent, but the thing that caught you off guard was the nickname that made your knees buckle. he knew, the sly smirk as he handed you a glass of water told it all. "hm, o-okay," you gasped softly, taking the water from him and having a few sips to clear your head. Deku's left hand never leaves your side as he watches you, drinking in your reaction to his words. you felt hot, like you were boiling under your skin. bakugo felt the same, more than aware fo the effects Deku had on his girl. still, he waited. bakugo was amazing at playing the long game, more than willing to edge you for hours to get a point across. still, tonight, watching your hands linger on Deku's chest, eyes gazing into his lustfully, chest heaving at the mere charisma of his friend, he knew something more than edging needed to be done.

just as you were collecting your thoughts from the gutter, deku reaches into his pocket to retrieve his cell phone. he grins when he sees the caller and immediately answers. "i knew you couldn't stay away," he starts, eyes scanning the room for your lover. he sighs contently when they lock eyes, listening to your lover's undeciphered words on the other line. "oh, i fully intend to," he remarks, a sly chuckle leaving his lips as he placed his phone back in his pocket. you look to deku with confused eyes, and he beams down at you, squeezing your hip an inch tighter. "puppy, we have business to attend to," he whispered in your ear, placing a chaste kiss against the shell of your ear. you blush deeper, nodding your head slowly and allowing him to lead you from the middle of the ballroom. he ushers you to the elevator, insisting he needed to stop at his hotel room before continuing the evening.

deku has you pressed against the door of his hotel room within seconds of entering, his knee coming between your legs to spread them apart. his lips immediately speckle kisses along your neck, moans leaving your lips. "i-izzy, please," you whine, eyes screwing closed as your curse yourself for allowing your resolve to fade. "i love it when you call me that, doll," he groaned against your skin, large hands roaming your body and settling one on your breast the other on your hip. "call him it again, teddy~". your eyes spring open as you crane your neck to see your beloved boyfriend sitting with his legs crossed in the chair adjacent to the window. deku lets out a groan against your skin, groping your breast over the gown as his presses his thigh into the gap between your legs. "you couldn't just stay quiet for another minute, huh, kacchan?" izuku grins against your skin, feeling your breath hitch as you realize your beloved boys had set you up once again. "daddy wants to watch, teddy. be good to izzy," katsuki scolds you and your cunny throbs at the command. deku's hands reach to bunch up your dress around your waist to reveal you had opted out of panties for the evening, and both boys let out a soft groan. "so you planned on fucking him anyway, huh slut?" deku directs his attention to katsuki, shooting him a warning glare as katsuki holds the menacing, shit-eating grin he normally held.

deku turns back to you lovingly, sliding you onto his thigh so that your bare cunny throbs against his toned muscle. he stood there, entranced by your overwhelmed expression as you worked your hips on his thigh, desperately seeking any stimulation to your swollen clit. "getting your mess all over my emerald suit, puppy~" he teased, earning a chuckle from katsuki. your eyes closed softly as your form subconsciously clung to izuku while you chased your release. you could feel their eyes burning into your skin, and that made your blood run even hotter. deku scoops you into his arms, carrying you to the mattress where he sat on the edge of the bed, sliding his thigh between your legs once more. he held your hips in place to halt your movement, left hand reaching to pinch your cheeks and make you look at him. "i want you to make a mess of my expensive pants, and then, you'll do the same for daddy, okay?" your eyes scan his face for any semblance of joking but found nothing. you sighed, realizing you were in for the longest ride of your life. you nod softly, beginning to work your hips over his toned thigh once more. your cunny dragged against the soft material of his slacks, the texture making your body tense with each roll of your hips. deku took the opportunity to slip your dress off of your shoulders, freeing your breasts for his lips to caress. izuku brought his tongue across your left nipple, sending a chill up your spine as he began circling and nipping at the sensitive bud. "izzy~" you whined, feeling the coil in your stomach begin to bend under the pressure of the brewing pleasure. you could hear the sound of skin slapping, and went to turn your head when izzy's hand stopped you, holding your head in place. "you look at me when you cum, bitch," he grunted, sending your body into a frenzy as your high approached. you bucked your hips faster against him, clit catching the ridges of his slacks with every haphazard rock. his words rang through your ears alongside the grunts from your beloved boyfriend's mouth, and you overheated, your orgasm washing over you like a tsunami. "good girl," deku grinned, helping you rock your hips through your high as your body slumped over him. when he was content, izuku's movements of your hips stopped, and he held you close to him as you took your time recovering.

once the heave of your chest slowed down a bit, izuku placed a chaste kiss to your forehead, but you craned your neck, whining incoherently about your lips. you needed the intimacy, even if you knew katsuki never let you kiss izuku, saying it was only meant for him. "what's this? puppy wants a kiss?" Izuku's sly eyes cut to Katsuki who crinkles his nose in disbelief, resolving on being meaner to you than had been originally planned. Izuku places a sweet, gentle kiss to your lips and you melt into his touch again, feeling the fire inside you reignite. without a second thought, katsuki had stood and scooped you out of izuku's lap, bringing you over to his chair where he'd been angrily steeping.

"you're not cumming anymore, so I hope that was worth it," katsuki groans, shoving you to your knees. "aw kacchan, come on-" 'shut up. she's my brat, and I decide when she's lost her privilege to cum'. you shiver at the idea of katsuki using your throat and leaving you high and dry. he takes his cock out of his pants, swollen pink tip oozing precum as his hand tangles in your hair. you peer up into his eyes, puppy dog like eyes of yours melting that hard exterior. "fuck" he moans, stroking himself in your face. you whine, knowing he's resolved to make you watch. "daddy~" you sniffle, realizing you crossed the line into unforgivably bad girl and he was not one to show mercy to bad girls. his hand moves quick along his member as he stares down at you, pliant and patient as your thighs rub together to create some sort of friction. "f-fuck, 'm close, you little bitch" he noticed the way the harsh name made your legs tremble when deku mentioned it, and the two men exchanged smirks as your shook from the build-up of your desperately needed release. his angry tip oozed more pre-cum as you writhed and whimpered below him, tongue lolling out of your mouth as you anticipated his release. "come here-" bakugo grunted, taking the back of your head and shoving his long, girthy shaft down your throat, the warmth sending him over the edge as he shot his seed down your throat. the harsh speed of the cum burned your throat, eliciting tears from your soft, fucked out eyes.

katsuki came down slowly, chest heaving as his gaze softened slightly as his beloved girl. "good job, puppy~" izuku whined, his own release creeping upon him as he stroked his cock to the sight before him. you held katsuki's member in your throat, leaned forward on your knees enough for izuku to see your glistening, soaked cunny. at the thought of your velvety walls, he shot ropes of cum all over his hands and fingers. katsuki pulled out of your mouth with a pop, a languid whine leaving your lips at the loss. katsuki grinned at his silly girl, gesturing over to deku. "go clean up izzy's fingers, and kiss him. make him taste himself, puppy," bakugo commanded, a blush rising to your cheeks as you crawled over to izzy. Izuku pressed his fingers into your mouth, drooling pooling and slipping out as he depressed your tongue. once you collected his seed, you leaned forward to plant your lips chastely. deku moaned against your lips, deepening the kiss to swirl his tongue throughout your mouth, definitely catching katsuki's residual seed in his mouth before pulling away with a string of spit. "even my cum tastes better than yours, kacchan" izuku smirks at him, and katsuki furrows his brows at him, sliding his trousers off entirely. "give me twenty minutes, i'll send my puppy over to you with a fresher load to taste, cum eater." izuku blushes at the thought, shaking his head as he pets your hair softly.

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Supernova (Chapter 6)

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Robin x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of murder, mental health issues and episodes.

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: As the daughter of Wonder Woman, you always knew you were destined for something more than the life of a mortal. It seemed like your wish for a life of adventure came true but whether in the form of a blessing or curse, you didn’t know. All you know is that you were the sole witness for a chain of murders that would begin. It’s up to you to find out who was the murderer before it’s too late……

A/N: Oof it has been a while since the last update

Supernova Masterlist

“I told you specifically that you were not to get involved! And you deliberately disobeyed me!” Your mother scolded but her voice was getting a decibel louder each time. You looked unfazed and unbothered, not even trying to maintain eye-contact while receiving your mother’s disappointment and instead staring out the window.

It was not what you had wanted to hear at the moment if you were being honest. The past few days had been hard and you even missed training since Valerie’s death. Robin had been by your room multiple times trying to get you out of bed but you just remained there. Not living, not dying, just existing.

Your mother’s comfort might have done nothing to change the way you downward spiraled after the events and while your mother yelled at you, the same images kept replaying in your head as they did for the past few days; Robin ripping you away from her body as the police and press showed up, Valerie’s parents finding out what happened and then watching her mother break down in front of her daughter, Valerie’s little sister wailing during the funeral.

You didn’t leave the bed after that, still dressed in the black blazer and trousers you had worn that day. It had been a couple days. You had managed to swallow down Robin’s green smoothies and even a couple slices of fruit but you didn’t quite remember what it was. They all tasted bland and disgusting.

Your mother had found out about your identity through the multiple press reports and articles and while you were sorry that she had to find out that way, you didn’t have the capacity to show it. The last thing you had was the energy to fight with her, or even resist her.

So instead, you just listened to whatever she had to say, hoping that she’d leave sooner or later but the more you felt your head throb, the more frustrated you got. This was just so typical of her, of course the unstoppable, fearless, undefeatable Wonder Woman would have no idea what you were going through. And instead of asking you for your two cents, instead of comforting you, she had been trying to imprint her anxieties onto you.

Had she even thought how hard this must have been for you? For even a second? You couldn’t imagine it because if she had thought about you for even a moment, she would’ve realized that you literally saw your best friend murdered before your eyes. She would’ve realized that you were feeling like you didn’t deserve to live on the face of the earth. And she would’ve tried to comfort you.

Instead, she stormed into your room, tossing her phone with the news article on the bed before beginning her lecture and now fifteen minutes later she had yet to ask you if you were okay.

Her argument was stupid as well. You didn’t ask for any of this to happen to you; you were hardly responsible and yet no matter how hard you tried to avoid the matter, it kept pulling you back in. You couldn’t deal with this like a human, no matter how much your mother wanted you to, because you knew that you were more than that and you could have done something. It left you feeling guilty.

But at the same time, you couldn’t handle this as a god because you weren’t. You kept thinking about how you ended up coming short in each fight; had you been blessed with just a little more, had you not been part human then you wouldn’t have gotten injured the night Mary-Anne got captured and you would’ve saved her. If you weren’t limited, you would’ve been faster the day Valerie was killed, you would’ve reached her before it happened, you would’ve stopped it.

You were truly useless, but you didn’t have the excuse to be.

That made you feel absolutely worthless. Even after being blessed with so much, you still came up short. You still failed.

And who was to blame for that? The cruel fate that had you in the position you were today.

“If you weren’t my daughter—” Your mother muttered to herself in her anger, realizing that you weren’t reacting to anything she said but you caught the start of her sentence, cutting her off with a humorless and tired laugh.

“If I wasn’t your daughter,” You finally looked at her and you saw her features morph into one of worry when she finally noticed all the tears that were skating down your cheeks, “I wouldn’t be here.”

“Three people are dead, mom.” You cried, voice cracking but she stood there as if she was nailed to her place, “And I only have myself to blame. If I had been faster, stronger, if I didn’t have these human side to me, they wouldn’t be.”

“I can’t live like a god because I’m not competent enough, not gifted enough.” You sobbed, wiping away your tears and holding a hand up when she tried to approach you. You were too overwhelmed at the moment, too much input was there and it was overloading all your senses, “And I can’t live like a human because if I was this wouldn’t be happening to me.”

“If I wasn’t your daughter,” You spoke and it scared her with just how much malice you put into it, like you were disgusted with yourself for being her child and in a way, you were, how could you be Wonder Woman’s daughter and still be so weak?

“Those people wouldn’t have died when I was there to do something about it. Mary-Anne would have been gone without me knowing, my principal wouldn’t have been a casualty and I would’ve gotten Achilles’ tarot.” It was like you had given up. So many emotions were rushing through you that you couldn’t understand what was pushing you anymore, if there was anything there.

You weren’t ready just yet to give up on being a hero, not after another death. You wanted to help, you couldn’t continue to be useless and yet it felt like you were burning the candle at both ends.

“Please just go. I don’t expect Wonder Woman to understand what it’s like to be caught between paradise and hell.” You said, laying down once again and pulling the covers over your head, “Just go.”

You heard the door open and click shut before you were bathed in silence and darkness once again. For a minute it felt peaceful and you let the minutes bleed into hours without realizing just how much time passed as you were curled up in the hollow of your blankets.

You heard the door click open but didn’t bother to rear your head from your shelter until you felt someone poke you in the back. When you turned, Robin was standing with a tray in his hands and a reassuring smile on his face, “I got you something to drink.”

He didn’t ruin the silence that you had been yearning for, in fact the sound of his voice was sweet to the ears. This was what you needed.

Shifting slightly, you patted the empty spot next to you and when he settled comfortably beside you, it wasn’t suffocating or difficult like how you felt with your mother. Robin handed you the glass of fruit cocktail smoothie and you accepted, sipping the drink quietly and enjoying the chill slipping down your throat.

This wasn’t uncommon. Ever since you both started training together, you often found yourself searching for him when you needed comfort, since Robin was the one you had gotten closest to during your stay here. Now, with just an inch of distance between you, you were feeding off his energy and it was putting you at ease.

You leaned your head against his shoulder and he didn’t flinch, having been used to it by now but the first time you had even held his hand, the poor boy had jumped out his skin. You just needed the physical touch to put you in balance for a while and recharge, he realized that a while ago. Robin even felt better himself whenever you played with his fingers, specifically taking off his gloves to feel his skin or leaned against his back after a long day of training.

It felt so intimate but not romantic. He just felt needed and supportive whenever you relied on him this way, delicately threading your fingers together and sitting in the silence of your room. He didn’t even have to look at you, just feeling his presence beside you was okay.

The sound of you finished the drink through the straw filled his ears before he realized he should speak up.

“(Y/N).” He said gently and you didn’t lift your head, just humming to show that you had heard him, “They’re interrogating her murderer today.”

He would’ve thought that you were unshaken by the news had he not felt your hands tighten its grip on his. You just nodded, burying your head closer to his neck, wishing the ground would just suck you in. He didn’t say anything else, gently drumming the fingers that were set on his thigh.

***

Your hands clenched into fists as you gazed at the figure behind the one-way window. She looked too simple, too mundane to be a murderer but you knew she was the one responsible for Valerie’s death. Afterall, you had been the one to catch her red-handed.

Messy red hair was thrown into a bun, her unkempt strands and frizz making her look like she hadn’t slept in days and you were part to blame for that. Her lip was still split from where you punched her, your knuckles pricked at the sight, eager for more.

Looking at her, you couldn’t imagine how she was responsible for this, a frail looking woman who looked like she couldn’t even hurt a fly. Her name was Thelma, at least that’s what it says on her identity card. Thelma had been denying that as her name since the interrogation had begun.

Going through her file, she looked just as you had assumed; ordinary.

Batman hadn’t gotten a word out of her, she had refused to co-operate with the interrogation at all, pretending not to hear his questions, going as far as to even deny committing the crime at all. That part made you clench your jaw so tight you could’ve sworn your teeth could crack. She knew she had the advantage here.

As per the rules from the UN, you weren’t allowed to use the lasso of Hestia without her consent to assist the interrogation as it violates their right to remain silent. Watching her blatantly deny the crime that you knew she had committed had your blood boiling in your veins. If only you could wrap Hestia’s rope around her throat.

You growled as Batman tried to intimidate her but it was in vain before grabbing the lasso from your mother’s waist and stomping to the door.

“(Y/N)!” She warned, as if daring you to defy her again.

You didn’t even spare her a glance before throwing the door open and stepping inside. Batman stalked up to you quickly, leaning in with a cold fury but you didn’t back down, holding his stare. You couldn’t just stand back anymore, the feeling of knowing that you could have done something but didn’t was too much for you to take anymore.

“Give me a chance.” You murmured, “I won’t go against protocol. You have my word.”

His gaze hardened for a second before giving you a curt nod and moving to the corner of the room. He didn’t trust you not to lose your temper, not just yet and you were more than determined to prove one of the big three that you could handle yourself. Although the urge to slap the condescending look off her face was getting more tempting.

You fastened the rope to your belt before stepping in front of the table, resting your hands against it in a self-satisfying way that you saw in movie before finally looking Valerie’s murderer in the eye. Haggard green eyes behind thick lenses and wrinkles running deep into her pale skin. She looked pathetic. That made you feel both frustrated and proud.

“Your name is Paris,” You bit out with such venom, making sure to keep your voice loud enough for the members behind the glass to hear you clearly, “Isn’t it?”

She smirked and her eyes flashed with some pride that had you resisting the urge to throw her across the room. It would be so easy to snap her neck right then and there, to make her pay for what she did to your dear friend but you controlled yourself.

“Finally, someone with a brain.”

You mirrored her smirk, feeling your spine straightened with a little confidence, your hunch had been right, “How couldn’t I have known The Great Paris? The brave soldier who slayed Mighty Achilles.” You purred, taking your eyes off her and glancing at the glass. You were keeping your tone even, your gaze steady to show your mother but you were comforted knowing that Robin was behind it.

“The brave, skilled, mighty Trojan Prince Paris. Made a name for himself by being the best of his kind. Only a mortal but still managed to take down a divine god.” You droned, noticing how she began beaming at your words. You turned back to her and even though it was just a moment, they had seen something change in your eye. Your glare turned dark and you smirked.

“Only we both know one thing; your name isn’t Paris.” Her smile vanished and you took a step closer, sitting right across her to look her in the eye. “Tell me if this sounds familiar, hmm? A lonely, old woman living all alone. She’s at a dead-end job. She has no family, no friends, no light in her life.”

The way you spoke had your mother on edge. Every single word that came out of your mouth was like hitting a nail on the head. It was unlike anyone had ever seen before.

Robin clutched his cape nervously in his hands as he watched you interrogate Thelma with something settling in the pit of his stomach. He had seen that look before, the very same dark glare on his father and now it scared him that it was almost identical on you. He couldn’t let you turn out as his dad, he just couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

“And then finally she gets something in her life. A chance at hope. A chance at purpose. Something to finally make her believe that her life is worth living. Sound familiar? I bet it does, Thelma.” You hissed, “Because that pathetic woman was you, wasn’t it? You thought that if you killed Achilles you’d be rewarded, worshipped even. And finally, your miserable little life would have some meaning. Didn’t you?”

The look of fear in her eyes fed your hunger for a while. She was shaking her head feebly, looking at the ground since she couldn’t hold your gaze and you could only get angrier. Where was the pride and arrogance that she was showing earlier? Where was the crazed look in her eye as she murdered your best friend in cold blood?

“Only you were stupid,” You spat, “You were careless and you got caught. And suddenly, you weren’t the Mighty Paris that defeated Achilles. No, you were pathetic, irrelevant little Thelma who killed an underaged, unprotected girl in the locker room of her high school. I saw it all. You’re despicable.”

Robin watched your eyes swirl with a darkness he had never seen before. You were always trying to fight against your demons that were pulling you into the deepest recesses of your mind but now it was like you had finally surrendered to it. It was scary to watch such a pure person slowly get corrupted and Robin felt his resolve harden a little. He wouldn’t let you end up like the Dark Knight.

He had known Wonder Woman for most of his life and it was always your mother’s unconditional love and hope for the human race that made her what she stood as today. You always wanted to be like your mother, in body and mind. Now it felt like you were throwing away all those principles. Now it was to protect your own, and no one else.

If there was anything he could do to prevent you from going down that path he would, he realized when he saw the manic look in your eye. You were so close to being lost. Robin spared a glance at your mother, seeing her stand steady and tall. You were teetering over the edge at the moment and if your mother pushed just a little in the wrong way, you could possibly be lost to the rest of them. He wouldn’t let it come to that.

The darkness storming in your eyes suddenly ceased. Your features went slack in a terrifying way as you leaned towards the shivering woman in front of you as your fingers went white around the edges of the table.

“You took something very precious from me,” It was like poison was dripping from your tongue and you kept your voice low enough so only the both of you would know what you were saying, “Watch how easily I can do the same to you.”

Suddenly you pulled back and turned towards Batman with a small, disarming smile, “She’s free to go, Batman. She isn’t the one who killed Valerie. She’s just an ordinary, insignificant civilian.”

It was like a thread snapped.

“I DID IT! I KILLED HER! IT WAS ME!” Thelma shrieked lunatically, kicking the table and banging her hand-cuffed hands against the tabletop. She began sobbing loudly, screaming about how she was the one who killed Valerie and your heart lightened with satisfaction just a little. Just what you wanted.

“It’s my word against yours, Thelma. I witnessed the murder. I just think you’re just confused.” You replied, seemingly unfazed by her episode. The way she was crying in poor agony would usually have you off-put, concerned even. But right now, all you felt was your eardrums sting. She deserved none of your remorse.

“NO! NO, I DID IT! I DID IT!”

The smirk on your face was unmistakable, “Oh really? Will your confession hold up against the Lasso of Truth? Do you think it can?”

Her crying died down until she was softly sobbing into her hands, knowing that she had no other way out. She had lost, “Yes. I did it.”

You loosened the lasso around your waist, letting one end fall to the ground before wrapping it once around your wrist for better leverage, “Then let the interrogation begin.”

Forever Taglist:

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[boxesandrings]

Hello! Could I have some Shane/Farmer first time please, idc about the gender of the farmer. Thanks! 😊

It's DONE! Please Enjoy <3

Title: Can I get you guys anything? Some snacks? A condom?

Summary: Shane and his girlfriend have been dating for a few months now, and decide to take things to the next level.

Characters: SDV Shane, F!Farmer

Warnings: 18+ smut, general first time shenanigans, vaginal fingering, ding-dongs in love, a little bit of body insecurity

Word Count: 2550 (oops)

Story is under the cut (and also will be posted on my AO3!):

The Farmer’s back hit the mattress with a thud, and she laughed as her head made contact with the pillow. “Why do I feel like I’m in high school again?” Shane shrugged before laying on top of his girlfriend, planting sloppy kisses on her neck.

“Careful, we only have 20 minutes before my mom comes up with apple slices and a juice box,” he murmured into her ears. The Farmer laughed and slid her fingers through his hair as he began sucking on her earlobe.

Robin was working on the Farmer’s house today, frequently trekking in and out of every room while muttering quietly about old building codes, and Jas was out on a field trip. Marnie was Yoba-knows-where, most likely at her not-boyfriend’s house, so after the couple’s picnic in the Cindersap Forest, it only made sense to return to Marnie’s to continue the date. Shane had been surprised how his girlfriend had practically jumped on him the moment they were inside, kissing him between giggles and whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

Not that he was complaining. He had brought her to his bedroom, just on the off chance that Marnie or Jas came home early and spotted them making out on the couch. He had one arm propping himself up against her side now, his fingers tangled in her long, black hair, the other pawing at a breast over the Farmer’s shirt. His lips were on hers, occasionally his tongue slipping in. One of her hands was still entwined in his hair, the other cupping the side of his face.

The Farmer’s head tilted back slightly, and Shane jumped on the opportunity to kiss down her jaw, tongue circling her earlobe before gently pulling on it with his teeth. He heard a small sigh escape the Farmer’s lips and smiled, trailing kisses down her neck, his tongue now on her collarbone. He felt her hand leave his face and trail down his arm, coming to a rest on top of the hand he had placed on her breast.

“Well, now it really feels like high school.” Shane lifted his head and observed the coy look on his girlfriend’s face. She winked and leaned up, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose. “Here.”

The Farmer, much stronger than she appeared, managed to roll the two of them over on the bed, Shane now below her, his own head against the mattress as she sat upright straddling his hips. The sudden change in position made him suddenly aware of the erection that was quickly growing, now that there was pressure almost directly on it.

The Farmer, upright, quickly pulled her shirt off and tossed it toward a nearby chair. Shane smiled up at her as she began to work on her bra, arms behind her as she fidgeted with the clasp. He sat up the best he could below her and reached his hands around, offering to aid in the effort: “Here.”

“My hero!” She laughed as he unhooked the bra and tossed it haphazardly across his room before wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing her face closer to his. Shane gave her a kiss on the cheek and winked.

“Eh, don’t sweat it. Nothing too difficult for a pro like me.” The Farmer rolled her eyes, but her smile remained.

“Oh, shut up.” She pulled his lips up to hers and kissed him, much rougher than the two had been before. Shane rocked slightly, trying to find their rhythm, before propping himself upright with one arm as he rolled a hard nipple between his fingers with the other. The Farmer let out a soft moan into his mouth; if Shane was only getting hard before, he was like a rock now.

She laid on top of him, kissing, biting, whispering sweet nothings into his ears, holding one of his arms pinned back above his head. Shane was using the other hand to try and grab at the breasts pressed against his own chest, or weave his fingers up through her hair. Finally, he struggled to push her back up into a seated position, her straddling him, head just above his own. As he looked up at her, her eyes dark and gazing back into his own, he couldn’t help but recognize that he loved her.

He really did! He knew that he had loved her, differently, before. As a friend, one who saved him from himself, who helped him through his recovery. When he kissed her at that game, almost three months ago, he had been so afraid of ruining the friendship entirely. Instead the Farmer just laughed and kissed him again, wrapping her hands around his neck to pull him in closer.

He was brought back to the present by the feeling of her lips against his. She kissed so slow and sweet before pulling just slightly away, the tips of their noses still touching.

“Hey.” Her voice was low, much lower than how she usually spoke. He felt his cock twitch, pressed just below her own hips and wasn’t sure whether to pray that she could feel it or not. They had touched each other before, sure, but had yet to go further than that. It had been a while since Shane had slept with anybody, even longer since he was sober, and neither he nor the Farmer had wanted to rush things.

“Hey.” He smiled back at her, their eyes meeting. He had wanted to tell her he loved her, truly, but was afraid it would seem disingenuous considering their current activity, and didn’t want her to think he was saying it just to get something. Not that he thought she would, but he was still afraid. A simple ‘hey’ would do for now.

They almost swayed back and forth for a second, drunk on each other as their lips moved closer and closer, before Shane decided to move in an opposite direction. He ducked his head down and began to kiss the Farmer’s neck, her chest, making his way down to her breasts with his tongue.

She rolled her head back as she let out a breathy whimper, which Shane took as an invitation to go harder. He bit and sucked at one nipple, manipulating the other with his hand, pinching and rolling it as she whispered a number of explicatives above him. He continued to tease as he felt the twitching in his pants again, before realizing the Farmer was grinding her hips into him, perhaps without realizing it.

It all became too much when he heard her moan his name, a quiet “Shane, fuck.” He released the nipple that had been in his mouth and laid flat on the bed, out of breath. Her eyes opened and she looked down, her mouth an O, concern in her eyes.

“Oh! Shane, babe, are you okay? I didn’t like, do something, did I?” Yoba, she was hot when she was concerned. Shane shook his head.

“No! I mean, yes, I mean…” He trailed off, rubbing a hand over his face. “I would just really like to, um, I just— I bought condoms. You know. If you want to.” He bit his lip and peeked out at the Farmer between his fingers. She was still on top of him, and he could practically see a buffering sign in her eyes as she processed his proposition. He pressed his eyes shut and moved both hands to the top of his head.

“I mean, we don’t have to but I— um, we’re gonna have to readjust or I might—” He hadn’t even finished his sentence when the Farmer’s lips were on his once more, her tongue slipping between his lips.

If he had thought her kisses were hungry before, they were ravenous now. She had one arm above his head, her fingers interlacing with his own. Her other hand was reaching down, pawing at the painful erection above the sweatpants before slipping her hand beneath the waistband and squeezing it. She elicited a sharp gasp from Shane as she slowly pulled her hand up along it as she kissed her way to his ear.

“Yeah, yes, I— yeah.” Her breath was hot against his ear and he could hear the smile in her voice. He had been surprised by the enthusiastic response, but now could only focus on the feeling of hot desire burning within him.

He roughly reached for her hand that had been in her pants and pulled it out, using the momentum to flip the Farmer onto her back. He held her arms up above her head with one hand pressed over her wrists, the other working quickly on the buttons of her jeans.

Once undone, he slipped his hand in, his fingers quickly slipping between the wet folds. She moaned into his mouth, shivering as he began to rub, waiting to hear the noise she made when he found the right spot. He felt her shoulders tense below him accompanied by a sharp inhale, and began to focus there. He tried to slide her jeans further with his wrist in a weird shaking motion that he knew probably wouldn’t work, but attempted anyway.

“Sh-shane—” He nodded, trying to reach a finger further back. “Shane.” His finger found the hole, and he circled it slowly once before barely slipping the finger in. The pants are gonna have to go, he thought. “Shane!”

He looked up when the Farmer yelled. He pulled his hand back out of her pants, unsure of her tone. She had a goofy smile, but obviously had stopped him for something.

“The condom?” Now he paused to think before jumping up and moving towards the closet, his erection embarrassingly visible in his sweatpants. He had hidden a box in a bag on the top shelf, far above where Jas could snoop. He found the package and pulled a condom out, kicked off his pants and rolled the condom on. His fingers reached for the bottom hem of his shirt, but he paused.

Had she seen him without a shirt before? He knew that she knew he was a bit… thicker, but being naked in front of her suddenly felt daunting. Would it be strange if he kept his shirt on? He turned slightly to look at his girlfriend who was seated on the edge of his bed, taking off her remaining sock. She turned to look at him, her expression brightening when she made eye contact with him. Her eyes flicked down to where Shane’s hands were fidgeting with his shirt and smiled when she met his gaze again.

“Whatever makes you comfortable, babe.” Yoba, he really loved her. She made him comfortable. He quickly removed his shirt and made his way back to the bed, the Farmer smiling and laughing as she reached for his face.

He sank into her when he found her mouth again, laying her back on the bed as he slowly climbed on top of her. His hand made its way back down her body, and Shane quickly slipped a finger inside. The Farmer let out a small gasp, but smiled and tilted her head back, enjoying the sensation.

She opened her eyes when he pulled his finger out, and watched Shane through her eyelashes as he lined himself up above her. Shane thrust, a groan escaping his lips as he felt her cunt so hot and tight around him. The Farmer lifted her legs up around his hips for a better angle, closing her eyes and breathing his name as he continued to rut against her.

Shane hooked an arm underneath one of her legs to try and angle her up even farther, hitting deeper within. She moaned out louder now, Shane’s focus alternating between the bouncing breasts below him and her face, beautifully twisted in ecstasy.

“Oh, shit, Shane, you feel so good.” The Farmer wasn’t usually one to swear so freely, and the need in her voice sent Shane closer to the edge. He began to thrust more aggressively, the sound of skin on skin growing louder as the Farmer whimpered below him.

The orgasm came quicker than Shane had hoped as he slammed into her, groaning as he came. He continued to thrust until it became almost unbearable and pulled out, flopping onto his back next to the Farmer. She rolled onto her side, her hands on his chest, his arms, his face, planting small kisses on his cheeks and cooing sweet nothing into his ears.

After his head cleared, he stood up and removed the condom and threw it in a nearby trash. He laid back down on the bed, and began to kiss his girlfriend. She giggled, leaning her head back.

“That was fun.” He opened his eyes, and could have sworn that the Farmer’s were sparkling (could it be the same love he felt?) as she regarded him. He smiled, and leaned in again.

“It’s not over yet.” He kissed her again, making his way to her neck as he climbed on top.

“What do you mean?” The Farmer was playing coy, and he knew it. Even as she was asking the question, she had wrapped her arms back around Shane’s neck and tilted her head to give him better access.

“You felt so amazing, babe, and I just need to make you feel that way too.” His speech was muffled, his lips pressed firmly against her breasts. She tried to laugh, but he could feel her squirming below him.

“Being close with you was treat enough.” Shane looked up from her chest, staring at the face above him. It looked like she truly meant it. He shook his head and smiled.

“Mmm… I don’t think that was the answer I was looking for, ma’am,” he said as he plunged two fingers inside of her, quickly pumping in and out. It took her by surprise and she gasped loudly and dug her fingernails into Shane’s scalp.

His fingers were quick, pumping in and out of her tight hole then teasing her clit while he listened to her whimper above him. She pulled up on his hair, drawing his attention from the hickey he was leaving on her breast.

“Sh-Shane… please come here.” He let out a small laugh as he tried to move his head up to hers while his fingers still reached her clit. She roughly pulled his face to hers, her kisses desperate as she moaned into his mouth.

He suddenly felt the walls around his fingers tense and pulse, a rush of liquid around them as she tilted her head back once more, letting out an almost pained moan as she came. He pulled his fingers out and rubbed at her clit, almost over stimulating her as she rode out the orgasm, her hips bucking below his hand.

When it ended, she kissed him again, deep and slow. Shane moved to lay flat on his back, and the Farmer curled into his side with her head on their chest, the couple breathing heavily. Finally, the Farmer stretched, her arms reaching above her head before wrapping them around Shane’s shoulder.

“I think I could really use that juice box and apple slices right now.” Shane shook his head, laughing.

Yeah, this was definitely love.

[messy-nonbinary]

Little Girl In Training

ENDING 1/2 - Mommy Wins*

TW: Dark!Natasha, Dark!Steve, Dark!Wanda, kidnapping, forced age regression, getting beat up(?), mentions of blood, manhandling, misuse of powers, intrusion of the mind, MINORS DNI

Pairing: Dark!Natasha x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha was able to find you. But this time, she’s going to do it right, leaving no room for errors. 

*The endings are in no way correlated to each other!! You can read them both or only read one! It’s up to you!

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n - I wanted to write how I thought it might feel for your mind to be invaded by Wanda... Like how I imagined the citizens of Westview felt.

Your mind was everywhere. What would happen if you were found? What would happen if she couldn’t find you? Would she go after your family?

Family.

You hadn’t even thought about them during your time stuck with Natasha. What did they think had happened to you? Did they think you were dead? Or that you ran away? Did Natasha tell them you were arrested?

Your family was all you could think about as you made your way to Virginia.

You pulled up to your Aunt’s house, parking on the curbside. You sighed. Did you really want to do this? What if you were just putting them in danger? No. There was no way they even knew you were here. It was better just to warn your family and leave.

You got out of the car, trying your best to calm yourself before entering.

You stepped knocked on the door only for it to open upon your touch. “Hello?” You called out. “Mom? Aunt Jane?”

Once you didn’t get an answer you walked in. You gasped once you saw the scene. The house was a mess. As though a tornado went through only the inside. You dreaded the worst. Had she already gotten to them?

You walked to the living room and fell to your knees screaming at the sight. You mom and Aunt. Bloodied and dismembered.

“Get her!” You heard someone from behind you yell. You quickly turned around, only to be tackled to the ground. Your back met glass pieces that were scattered around and you screamed in pain.

You tried to fight against your assailant but more came, grabbing hold of your limbs.

You were being beaten into oblivion. The last thing you could remember thinking was ‘at least I don’t have to run anymore’ before you were waking up screaming.

Natasha was quickly at your side, pulling you into her lap. You looked at her with shock. How did you get back? Wait- Did you even leave??

Was this all just a dream? It couldn’t be-

But then why couldn’t you remember anything?

“Are you okay, Lovebug?” Natasha asked, holding you as tight as she could with an injured shoulder. When did she hurt her shoulder? Why can’t you remember!?

You nodded. “Bad dream.” You told her, tears in your eyes. “It’s okay, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Seems like she’s scared.” You heard an unfamiliar voice from behind you and you turned your head. “Who’s that?” You asked quietly. “That’s Mommy’s friend. Her name is Wanda. Can you say hi?”

“Hi..” You muttered and Wanda smiled at you. “Look at that! Wonderful manners, dear.” The praise made your cheeks warm unexpectedly and you hid your face in Natasha’s chest. You wanted to push away from her. To scream and tell her that you didn’t want her. But you couldn’t.

It was even somehow harder for you to think those thoughts, let alone act on them. Somehow, you even found yourself fearing that Natasha would leave you. You wanted to stay with her. But you also didn’t.

What was happening to your mind?

“Do you want to talk about your dream?” You heard Natasha ask. You didn’t want to. But for some reason your body betrayed you and you nodded. “I left you, and I hurt you. I see my Aunt and she was dead. Then I got hurt by ‘bunch of bad guys.” You explained to Natasha, tears in your eyes. She hummed, sharing a glance with Wanda, who smiled back at her. “You don’t want to leave, do you Lovebug?” Natasha asked and you shook your head, despite all the protests in your mind.

Your body was on fire, and the more you fought this infestation in your mind, the more it burned. You wanted to scream out in agony but for some reason you couldn’t even bring yourself to speak.

“We’re going to watch a movie together, you, me, and you’re Mommy. Does that sound fun?” Wanda asked and you squealed happily, asking for ice cream in the midst of your excitement.

You felt like you were astral projecting, watching as your body betrayed your mind. Nothing that you were doing outside was correlating with how you felt inside. Instead, you were being forced to play along.

You wracked your brain trying to remember what happened. What exactly happened. Not whatever twisted reality that was being conjured up in your brain.

You could only remember bits and pieces. And it was like parts of your mind, parts that weren’t there before, were attacking the old parts, forcing memories you didn’t have- didn’t want.

Despite the agony, you fought against this mysterious force, trying to focus on the memories it was taking away. Like how you got back in the first place.

You had made it to your Aunt’s place, parking the car near the curb. You sighed in relief, and got out of your car, locking it behind you. As you began to walk up to your Aunt’s house, you felt someone watching you.

With being on the run, you couldn’t just shrug it off. You reached for the bag, only to realize you left it in the car.

Without a second thought, you ran back towards the car, only to be grabbed by a large pair of arms from behind you. One of their hands clasped over your mouth quickly. “Scream, fight, or run, and I kill you Aunt and mother. Got it?” You struggled against your assailant's grasp but once your efforts failed, you nodded slightly. Your aggressor let go of you slightly, keeping a firm grasp on your forearm, and you turned around, facing him.

Your breath hitched at the sight of your attacker. You immediately recognized his face from the news; Captain America. Steve Rogers.

Your heart fell to your feet at the realization that not only Black Widow was as twisted as she was, Captain America was too. Did that mean they all were? Were they all as corrupt and disturbed?

Your thoughts were quickly disrupted as Steve manhandled you towards his car. “You’ve been a very bad girl. You had your Mommy worried sick.” He said, shoving you into the backseat, where there was already a carseat in place. He forced you into the carseat, even as you kicked and cried, being no match for his force.

“Lovebug? Hello?” Natasha waved her hand in front of your face. While in the midst of remembering, you had spaced out and weren’t responding to anyone. “Sorry Mommy...” You mumbled, regardless of the fact you wanted to scream at her for taking you again. “What were you thinking of, Sweetheart?” Wanda asked and you just shrugged. This caused Natasha and Wanda to share a worried glance.

Were they doing this to you? Was Wanda in your mind? Was she making you do these things against your will? It seemed impossible. But then again, you’d never thought ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’ would ever do something like this.

“Do it.” Was all you heard Natasha say before Wanda’s hands began to glow. Run. Run. Run. Run.

No matter how many times you screamed in your mind to run, your body wouldn’t move. You simply sat still as Wanda placed her hands near your head and the glow engulfed your mind. You couldn’t see anything in your mind that wasn’t covered by whatever Wanda was doing to you.

Darkness..

That’s all that was left of your mind after Wanda’s intrusion seemingly subsided. That was, until you could no longer remember anything. Well, anything from before your kidn-

Hold on..

Why couldn’t you remember being taken?

Because you weren’t.

Yes. You were.

No. You came willingly. Remember?

As if those words from the ominous voice triggered something, you remembered your first encounter with Natasha, but it was changed. She asked you out and you said yes immediately, already accepting your new role in her life.

That didn’t happen.

Of course it did.

No. It didn’t. Get out!

The voice continued to force thoughts into your head until you could only remember what it wanted you to remember. Once it was finally over, you had no memory of the invasion of your mind.

Instead, your memories were filled with happy thoughts about being with Natasha. Instead of the terrifying and aggressive Natasha you knew her as, your mind was filled with a caring and nice Natasha. Date nights that never happened. Intense and passionate love making. Never a moment of you acting out.

You appreciated Natasha again. Knew her as the hero she truly was. She took care of you. Took you out and away from the cruel and disgusting world that she had come to know.

“All right, Lovebug, let’s go watch that movie. You can pick!” Natasha said, picking you up gently. A part of you wanted to yell and struggle, question what was going on inside your mind. But that part of you slowly subsided and you nodded excitedly at her suggestion.

You understood now. She was the hero that you’d seen on the news. She protected the world. And more importantly:

She protected you. She loved you. And no matter what, you loved her too.

----------

Taglist: @apollonshootafar @agender-idiot @hamzilla @coollemonsaresour @fulltrashblaze @janelongxox @battleg03 @sav06nat @emilyprentisslittlewhore @lupinslittleslut @blackwow34

Taglist is officially closed! Slashed names can’t be tagged.

[rpd-rookie]

HOLIDAYS - LEON S. KENNEDY X FEM!READER (PART 2)

Summary: Leon meets Y/N again and let's say she isn't done playing with him. You don't mind company in your hot tub, do you Leon?

Author’s note: Sorry about the long wait. I know it's been a while since I haven't updated this fanfic or posted a RE fan fiction. I was busy with work and writing for other fandoms. Hope you'll forgive me and that you'll like this chapter.

Tags: NSFW / Flirting / Slow Burn / Teasing / Seduction / Roleplay / Hand Jobs / Slight Angst / Explicit Sexual Content

(Part 1)

PART 2: The Game

Men are foolish to believe they have no weakness. All men have weaknesses. And even if Leon wanted desperately alcohol to be his only one, he had to admit there was another. One more pleasant and yet sometimes as hurtful and as destructive. Women. Sultry strong women. Those who steal your heart, toy with it like a cat plays with a mouse, crush it with their sharp stilettos to finally throw it back at you without an ounce of remorse or sympathy.         How many times he had fallen for those women! How many times he had hurt himself! … And asked for more.

There was possibly something rather addictive, something even rather masochist in doing so. And the fact that he was aware of it showed how stupid he truly could be.

It was a lovely night, slightly cold but starry. The fresh marine wind was blowing softly in the trees and the bursting bubbles of the hot tub massaging his tensed muscles were filling Leon’s ears with a peaceful melody he would gladly listen to for hours.         Eyes closed, he could almost imagine what it truly meant to be on holidays, what it truly meant to relax, to forget. Almost.  The truth was he could not escape Raccoon City … as he could not escape Spain, or Tall Oaks or any other place he had been, any other place he had survived, any other place he had lost. They always knew how to creep into his brain, always knew how to tie his stomach in a knot, how to make his heart heavy, sometimes –often- in moments when he was the most eager for peace of mind. They were doing it right now. They had been doing it for quite some time now. Since the bombing in DC or maybe before.

“You almost make brooding look hot, you know?” Leon immediately jumped and turned around, startled by the cheerful voice pulling him out of his dark ominous thoughts. A reflex he had acquired and sharpened over the years fighting deadly BOWs.    But when his blue eyes lay on Y/N (or Y/SN; He didn’t really know how he should call her), he relaxed and allowed his tightened lips to slightly curl into a weak but sincere smile. “Years of practice.”             “Then that explained the wrinkles on your forehead.” She approached him soundlessly, leaving the shadows in which she had been watching him, and squinted at his face, possibly trying to detail all the little aging signs carving his skin. “Is that why you’re wearing a fringe?”      “It’s not a fringe!” He replied rather offended and yet perfectly aware that she was merely teasing him the same way she had teased him in that bar a couple nights ago. But his hair was sacred! And he hated when someone was making fun of it.    Too bad his little attempt at sounding aggressive only made Y/N laugh and want to mock him a little bit more. Just for fun.            “Well, it looks like a fringe… An emo fringe.” Leon frowned and without realising it brushed his hair aside with an annoyed pout the woman found just adorable. “Wow. You’ve got two eyes. Who would have thought?”          “Are you done?” She chuckled, eyes shining with mischief as she sat on the edge of the hot tub, legs crossed so as to deliberately show her bare smooth thighs no longer hidden under the white hotel robe she was wearing.       Leon couldn’t help but gaze for a second or two, suddenly wondering how that beautiful skin would feel against his calloused fingers, around his waist. Probably amazing. Electrifying. Damn she was good! He thought. Pulling him out of his traumatising memories to throw him deep into a well of lust. Not many women could do that. And it was annoying as much as it was endearing.  “Would you like me to keep you company in there?” She offered in a voice that could not disguise the lewd seconds thoughts she had in her mind. But then again, disguising them wasn’t what she wanted. And they were both adult and experienced enough to know that a woman offering to join you in a tub wasn’t doing it to have a chat about the weather. And that was fine. Leon could use some distraction right now.       “Depends. Will you keep taunting me?” He questioned trying to resist her a little bit longer even though, for some weird reasons, watching her fingertips touch the bubbling hot water and softly caress the surface was making him suddenly aching.         It was as if he wanted his skin to be the water, as if all the things she was doing –even the one that should be innocent- were purely sensual … sexual even. Whether it was always fully voluntary of not, Leon wasn’t sure. But damn, she was surely making her way under his skin.   “Well you have to admit my little taunt got your mind of whatever you were thinking about.” She smiled and brought her fingers to wet her neck as she discreetly and proudly peeped at Leon who was observing the droplets running down her skin with dilated pupils. “You’re cleverer than what you let on.” He admitted. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re playing with me or if you’re just flirting.”          “Why not both?” Her fingers fell to the collar of her robe to slowly brush the soft fabric off her shoulders, revealing more burning naked skin that made Leon briefly fidget under the water. Was he that touch-starved? “Why not something else?” Could she hear his erratic heartbeat in his chest? His brain screaming at him just to grab her and pull her in his laps? See all his attempts at keeping his cool slowly crumbling to let the obscene fire growing in his loins take over?        Her mocking smile made Leon think she probably could.         “And what would that something else be?” He asked, curious.

He watched her take a step back. And unconsciously, he leant closer. Like a magnet. Not willing to be left alone or to let her go. And miraculously, unlike many women before her, she didn’t leave. She simply stood where she was and brought her hands to the belt around her waist.             “What do you what it to be?” And Leon stared; hypnotized again by her enticing moves he wished were quicker. “Or better question. What do you want me to be?” She unknotted the belt and let her fingers crawl back to the collar of the robe to open it slowly. The mere sight of her décolletage made Leon gulp and suddenly all his tries to keep his eyes on her beautiful face became vain as they always found their way back between her breasts. “A college student with daddy issues …” She opened the robe wider, showing more of her skin “…who’s eager to spread her legs for a married man who lost wife, kids and beagle to his best friend? Or…” more of her breasts, her rosy nipples, her belly, offering a glimpse of her young body “A very naked young woman seducing an old –clearly naked as well- emo boy in a hot tub?” The robe wasn’t covering anything that should have been covered anymore. Leon could see everything, everything enough for his cock to harden under the water and for him to thank for the bubbles hiding his arousal.           “Is that what you really are?” She entered the hot tub, towering him like a naked Venus calling to be touched. And god knows how hard it was for Leon not to touch her or to stop thinking about pressing his face against her womanhood. “That looks like what I am right now. Don’t you think?” She let herself slowly sink in the water, not taking her eyes out of him. “And that looks like something you like.” She purred and when Leon thought that she would sit on him, straddle his legs and finally feel his aching member against her… “Only a fool would not like it.”            “And you’re not a fool … Leon.” … He froze.

Leon’s eyes widened. Did he hear that right? “What did you just call me?” His tone, though tinted with surprise, had recovered its seriousness and gravitas. But it didn’t seem to unsettle the young woman before him who was still keeping her aura of sensual cheekiness.    “Isn’t that your name?” Leon frowned, wondering how she knew and what the hell her intentions were. “You know it’s hard to pretend to be someone else when your name and photo was shown on national TV barely a week ago. Leon S. Kennedy the national hero who saved America from bioterrorism yet again.”        “ So you knew all along?”    “ I call it naked truth.” She smiled proudly and he couldn’t help but laugh a little at the pun. “What? You said it yourself, I’m cleverer than what I let on.”           “ So this little game … What was it for?”  “ We can continue if that’s what you want.” She came closer to him, (colour) eyes staring deep in Leon’s own.           “ Cause we haven’t stopped playing?”     “ Well, I’m still playing.” She put a hand on his sculpted pectorals.

The contact, warm and delicate, made Leon slightly shiver and he looked at her palm slowly going down his firm chest, caressing his skin down to his carved abs, following the line of hairs below his navel until it finally reached his still hard sex  “And with what I’m feeling right there. It looks like you can still play with a little help.” He winced as he felt her delicately grab his shaft.           “ You’re impossible.” He managed to say between gritted teeth.        “ I know. You told me last time... You want me to stop?”  She murmured in his ear, her hot breath tickling him in a pleasant way.    “I didn’t say that.” His eyes found her face again but only for a short while. Soon they focused on her lips, now so close to his. “Good.”

For an instant he thought she would kiss him to eventually put an end to that game of theirs. That would have been the perfect occasion for them to finally let go to their most primal impulses. But she did not. Instead, she remained the way she was, her face a couple inches away from his, her parted lips so close to touch his and her eyes locked with his. Perfectly in control and taking an excruciating delight in watching Leon lose his composure as her hand was slowly toying with his manhood under the bubbling water. “I think you needed that.”  “ You have no idea.” A guttural moan escaped the barrier of his lips and his stomach tensed. Leon could feel his member throbbing in the girl’s grip. He was close already and not even slightly ashamed about it. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? For him to crumble under her touch. And maybe that was what he wanted too now that he was thinking about it.          He closed in blue eyes to focus only on her, on her touch, on her hand, moving up and down in cock, again and again, on her fingers, sometimes caressing the tip, sometimes tracing the prominent veins of his shaft, slowly, oh so slowly. A pleasuring torture he almost wished would be never-ending.           “ You know, if you want me to fuck you, you should stop with that amazing hand of yours and quickly climb on top of me.” She chuckled at the sudden dirty talk and surge of confidence, happy to finally see him that way.          But as his hands grabbed her hips to bring her in his laps she purred “As much as I would love this, we still have more games to play, Agent Kennedy."

Leon's eyes opened in a flash. Flabbergasted, he felt an atrocious void and a terrible discomfort when, completely powerless, he watched the girl stand up and leave him with nothing less but a smile and a wink. But as much as he wanted to be vexed or resentful, he couldn't help but laugh, thankful that somehow she had managed to take his nightmares away for the night. Sure he had blue balls but those were the best blue balls of his life. " We sure do, Y/N"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Northern Exposure | Sam

❄ PART 2 OF THE MINI-SERIES ❄

Part 1

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series); face riding/oral, violence, creepiness on part of our boys, predatory behaviour, Bucky’s an asshole, they’re all too lonely and too desperate, mistaken identity.

This is dark! fic and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairings: Sam Wilson x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, A Bad Time x Reader

Series Synopsis: You’re a nature photographer stationed up north but the arctic isolation comes to an unexpected and unpleasant end.

Note: Special announcement later today and as usual, update are consistently inconsistent for my other series but I promise, I’m always working on something.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The three men, the heroes who were truly villains, kept you tied up as they tied a rope to an old rickety pallet and pulled you on it like a large sled. You shivered as the hills of snow left you dizzy and when you rolled off, you were thrown back on by Bucky who treated you like the spy he’d mistaken you for.

The second time you fell off, they didn’t notice right away. You managed to get your feet under you but before you could hop too far, the snow crunched and you were scooped up again. This time Bucky threatened to break your nose and Steve talked him down as Sam tried to coax you that all would be better if you didn’t try that again.

The sun rose and they continued on. The sky never paled more than a dim grey and the restless night gathered behind your forehead. A splitting headache fed by the biting cold. When the plains began to darken again and the moonlight rose to reflect off the snow, you stilled.

It took a moment to sight the bunker. The doorway was shoveled out and even if it were spring, the roof would look no more than a lump in the ground. You’d been up this way weeks ago, a snow fox and its kits had been skittering around. You groaned at the realisation of your mistake.

You were lifted by Sam and Steve grabbed your chin as you dragged towards the door. He looked you over and shared a look with Sam, “we need to warm her up,” your teeth chattered as if to reiterate his words, “we should’ve let her walk.”

“Just get inside,” Bucky scowled and stomped down the hidden stairs.

You nearly fell down as you hopped to the top step at Sam’s nudge. He caught you and descended at your side, your bodies flush in the tight space. The door opened and Bucky pushed the door in. Steve entered behind you and locked it as the lights flickered on and a generator began to whir.

As Sam guided you to a chair, Bucky elbowed past him and shoved you into the seat gruffly. He was jabbed by the other man and Steve snapped at both of them with his fingers. The blond opened a cupboard in the underground shelter and pulled out a vacuum sealed pouch.

“She should eat, it’ll warm her up,” he moved the kettle onto the gas burner, “and change her clothes. They’re wet from the snow.”

“I still don’t know why you had to bring her back--”

“Why’s it always shoot this and shoot that?” Sam scoffed, “I thought they got all that shit out of your head.”

“It’s our job,” Bucky snarled.

“Our job isn’t to kill civilians,” Steve shoved the pouch in the small microwave above the gas stove and turned.

“And when was it our job to babysit? Or whatever it is you two are planning,” Bucky crossed his arms.

Steve brushed past him and knelt to look you in the face, “Coffee or tea?”

“What?” you blinked and looked between him and the two other men, Sam watched you with a subtle grin as he unzipped his parka.

“We have some hot chocolate but it’s military issued and tastes awful,” he explained, “so?”

You frowned and met his gaze, “tea?” you answered weakly.

“Alright, and…” his hands went to the zip tie on your wrists, “if I untie you, you won’t try anything, okay?”

“Is that really a question?” you asked.

He pursed his lips and tilted his head, “fair enough but it’s your choice.”

You considered and poked your tongue against your teeth, “you can untie me.”

Steve grabbed the plastic tie and snapped it easily. He did the same to the one around your ankles and handed them to Bucky as he stood. He went back to the kitchenette as the microwave beeped. Sam came closer and rested his hand on the chair.

“You want me to get her changed, I got something she can borrow,” he said as he slipped his hand onto your shoulder. You flinched and he squeezed as Bucky tossed the ties and rolled his eyes.

“Get her clothes, I’m sure she can manage to get them on herself,” Steve felt the kettle but didn’t seem to feel the heat as you heard the water begin to roil.

Sam sighed but backed up. He disappeared into another room and Bucky hung his jacket with the others. He dropped down onto the bench by the door and unlaced his boots gruffly. He shook his head as he kicked them off.

“So, what’s your name, not Ursa?” Sam reappeared and plopped a pile of clothes in your lap.

You looked up at him and swallowed. He was so interested it made you want to vomit. His suggestion might have saved your life but it also promised you little more than imprisonment. You weren’t stupid and the way he hovered assured you of his intent. You gave him your name and stood cautiously.

“Where can I change?” you asked softly.

“Just in there,” Steve said when Sam didn’t answer and pointed to the same door.

You nodded and stepped around the other man. Bucky yawned loudly and kicked his feet out. You left them and closed the door. There were no windows and the only other door led to a closet.

You removed your hat, the gloves hastily shoved on above your restraints, your coat, and wet boots. Next you peeled off your jeans and the fleece leggings beneath. You kept looking up at the door as you pulled on the dry clothing; a loose tee, looser sweatpants, and large socks. The hoodie’s zip was broken and the sleeves were too long. Even so, it was warm.

You hesitated and only went to the door when a bang shook it, “your food’s ready,” Steve called through.

You opened the door and stepped out. He stayed close and you felt his heat as he held out a bowl of chunky stew and a steaming mug. You took it and he pointed you to the metal TV tray set up by the armchair. You sat and blew on the tea before you sipped. You didn’t know what else to do.

You ate quietly between Steve’s shy glances, Sam’s constant leer, and Bucky’s blatant indifference. You felt queasy but didn’t know what to do. You could run for the door and then what? Freeze to death on the tundra?

“You could… you could take me back still,” you said, “promise I won’t say anything.”

“We should just get rid of her,” Bucky huffed and finally looked at you, “this place is bad enough without--”

“Man, how about we get rid of you?” Sam puffed, “All you do is complain.”

“Look,” Steve pulled up a wooden chair from beside the matching table, “we can’t do that, it’s too risky.” He sat and gripped his knees, “It’s against protocol to just ignore security risks. It isn’t about you wanting or not wanting to say anything, it’s about what someone could make you say if they found you, just like Bucky here did.”

“They wouldn’t know--”

“The photos--”

“Burn them,” you said, “please, I didn’t do anything.”

“You sure this isn’t her, Wilson? You are a bit slow?” Bucky spat.

“Shut up, jackass,” Sam retorted, “hey, honey,” he came closer, “we don’t wanna hurt you.”

“And what you do want?” you stirred the bowl, “I don’t want that either.”

He arched a brow and smirked at Steve. Steve fidgeted and Bucky groaned.

“We’ll be nice,” Sam said.

“Cap,” you ignored him and watched Steve, “you’re a good guy, don’t do this. Up here, it’s hard, the isolation, I know, but you don’t want this. Maybe you should head back south and get your head on straight.”

Steve’s jaw squared as he considered you. He inhaled and his tongue peeked out between his lips. He looked at Sam and sighed. He shook his head.

“You can’t manipulate me,” he stood and moved the chair back, “Sam’s right, it won’t hurt. In fact, looks like you’ve been here long enough that we’re doing you a favour.”

“No--”

“Should we flip for it?” Sam asked, “who gets the first night since idiot’s a no go.”

Bucky sneered and stood. The other two watched him as he stormed past them and slammed the door behind him as he fled to the other room. Your last hope was gone. You thought even if he was mean, that Bucky might stop them and hopefully not just to tie loose ends up with a bullet.

“Heads,” Steve said as he kept his hand on the back of the wooden chair, his shoulders tense as he hung his head.

Sam fished around in his pockets then searched in his parka and finally found a coin in one of the drawers. He held it up and went to stand on the other side of the table. He flipped it and let fall between him and Steve on the wood. The latter sniffed and nodded dully.

“Let her finish eating first,” Steve said, “I’ll deal with Buck, he’s just… standoffish. You know how he can be. He’ll come around.”

“Even if he doesn’t, more for us,” Sam winked and Steve shoved himself away from the table.

You caught his eye as he headed for the bedroom door and when it closed behind him, your heart sank. You scooped up a mouthful of stew and slurped it up. The only man left strode around the room and sat on the low couch. He spread his legs wide and stretched his arms over the back, his gaze intent on you.

You ate slowly even though each bite made your stomach growl and built your appetite. You drank the tea carefully and relished the last dregs. He could hear how empty the glass was and when he stood, you sat back and drew your feet up onto the seat to hug your legs. He cleared the table and folded it.

He stalked around the room like an animal around its prey. You touched your cheeks and sunk down.

“Are you really going to do this?” you asked at last.

“I only want to treat you nice,” he said as he came closer, he reached out and tickled the back of your hand, “it was Bucky who hurt you, not me.”

“You could’ve left me--”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“But you don’t have to do this,” you argued.

“Why is it so bad? Aren’t you lonely? You have to be,” he slipped his fingers under your hand and drew your arm away from your legs, “all the way up here, alone.”

“That’s not--” you trembled and he tugged until you were out of the chair, “I don’t know you.”

“But you’ve heard of me? And Steve. Even Bucky,” he purred and put your hand on his chest. He wrapped his arm around you and swayed as if he was dancing with you. He took your other hand and twined his fingers through yours, “Come on, baby, I just want to make you feel good.”

You batted away the glossy tears with your lashes as you were trapped in his embrace, “why?”

He chuckled and kissed your forehead as he turned you, “because I gave Bucky your coordinates,” he backed you up slowly, “because I knew you weren’t her but knew I wanted you.”

“No…” you breathed as your legs met the low seat of the couch, “you were following me?”

“I just… stumbled upon you and…” his voice trailed off as he focused on your lips and his eyes turned smoky, “baby, you know you need it too.”

“No,” you gasped and pushed against him.

He crushed his lips into yours and leaned on you until you were forced back onto the couch. He angled you across it, his arm beneath you as he moved his hips slowly. You felt his excitement through his jeans as his breath stuttered in your mouth.

You turned your head away as his other hand skirted along the hem of the loose tee. He slid his fingers under the open hoodie and the cotton shirt. A shiver went up your spine as his hand crawled up your stomach.

“Please,” you whispered as you stared at the carpet.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, “am I hurting you?”

Your eyes were wet but you fluttered away the tears, “no,” you mumbled, “but…”

Your voice dissolved as he cupped your chest and ground his crotch against you harder. He grabbed your chin and turned your head back, his hot breath slipped through your lips before his tongue and he hummed. He kissed you hungrily and pulled his hand back to grab your shirt. He shoved it up your torso and his fingertips danced over your skin.

He parted from your lips and sat up. He tugged at the hoodie and lifted you. He pushed his legs around you and pushed the sleeves down your arms. He untangled you from the sweater and yanked on the tee until you raised your arms. He pulled that off too and flung it.

He drew you further into his lap and laid back on the couch. His fingers hooked under the elastic of the sweats and he pulled until you were forced to raise your pelvis. You shook as you got to your knees and looked down at him.

“You can stop…”

“I don’t want to,” he said and tugged, “up.’

You stood and your pants were ripped to your ankles as he kept hold of them. You lifted one foot then the other as he pulled off your socks and the sweats. They fell to the floor with the rest and he grasped your calves.

“Sit,” he patted the top of his chest with one hand.

You stared down at him and gulped. He slipped down on the couch and his eyes lingered between your legs. He squeezed the back of your leg.

“Sit,” he repeated darkly.

You bent and gripped the arm of the couch. You put a knee beside his head and then the other. He grabbed your hips and guided you down until you felt his breath on your cunt. You held yourself up and he pulled you down entirely.

“I bet you taste so good,” his voice was muffled as his breath tickled you, “I bet…”

His tongue made you wince and squeak. His fingertips poked at your hips as he gripped them tighter and he lapped at you from below. You tried to lift yourself but his hold on you was unbreakable. He purred and began to rock your pelvis over him. You felt your core react to him and you quivered as you let out a shattered moan.

He flicked his tongue more eagerly and your chest swelled as a lump rose in your throat. You held your breath as you tried to hide how he affected you. Your thighs tensed around his head and soon it was you moving your hips, not him.

Your mind was a haze as your voice flew out of you and you clung to the arm of the couch. You rode his face without thinking as the stunning sensation drove you on. He delighted in the taste of you and his hand ran up and he scratched down your back.

Your shallow pants turned to frantic mewls and you gritted your teeth as you came violently. You didn’t want it but you couldn’t fight. The months alone, the endless cold, the pure desolation, it all spilled over and burned deep inside of you. He didn’t stop until you were weak and your legs trembled and stilled.

He tilted his head back and licked his lips, “that’s it, baby, wasn’t that nice?”

You looked down at him as he watched from between your legs. You pushed off of him and his hands fell from your back. You climbed off of him and huddled on the far end of the couch as he sat up. He wiped his mouth and stood. You were humiliated at how easily he had you.

You hung your head and when you heard him come close again, he was naked. Your mouth fell open as his dick bobbed before him and you looked away shyly. He grabbed your elbow and pulled until you let him move you again. He led you down onto your stomach across the couch and dragged his fingers over your shoulders, down your back, and along the curve of your ass.

“All those layers, I knew there was something sweet hiding beneath,” he pushed apart your legs and felt your cunt.

He put his knee between yours then brought his other down as he climbed up behind you. He slid back and bent over you as he pushed his dick down between your legs. You tried to close them then tried to wriggle away. His hands settled on your hips and he leaned his weight on you entirely.

“Come on,” he lifted your ass slightly and rescinded a hand, he angled his tip along your cunt, “that’s it.”

He pushed into you, just an inch and you clawed the arm of the couch. You groaned as he sank deeper and pulled you back onto him. He spread his thighs over yours and placed his hands on the cushion around you. He eased out of you and slammed back in, the sound deafening in the underground room.

“Shit,” he moaned, “that’s good.”

You buried your face on the couch and crossed your arms over your head. He thrust again and you whined. He did it a third time and each tilt of his hips was followed by a pause as he basked in the feel of you. 

His flesh clapped against yours and the sound made you both sick and excited. Your mind felt trapped in your body as he used you, fucking you faster as he felt your natural response. The wet noises fed his lust and soon the whole couch shook.

“That’s it, baby, take it,” he snarled as he pushed down between your shoulder blades with one hand and the other lifted your hip as he lifted himself on his knees, “take it.”

His hand snaked up under your neck and he gripped your chin and forced your head up. Your back curved as he pounded you mercilessly. Your eyes rolled back and your tongue threatened to loll out. You moaned and his motion turned fractured and frantic. He jerked into you harshly and jolted your body with each crash of his hips.

“Ah, baby, I’m cumming,” he rasped and quaked as he burst inside of you.

He slowed down and stopped entirely. He straddled you still and when his breath steadied, he wiggled his hips until you squirmed. He chuckled and rubbed your back. He gasped as he pulled out of you and the cum spilled down the crease of your leg. He groped your ass and kneaded it with a growl.

“Get up,” he ordered as he stroked his softening dick, “put your hands on the couch.”

You got up, barely, numb and shaking, and turned to bend and press your palms to the cushion. He caught your hips before your legs could collapse under you.

“I told you I wouldn’t hurt you, baby,” he cooed, “don’t you feel so good?”

[bakingandbooks3]

A Court of Song and Serpents

A bit short but the begging of a project I'm SO excited for- hope you love this as much as I do.

Summary: What a time to be alive as Nesta Archeron, going backward to move forward and finding that the places she once called home are now empty tombs.

Nesta

Nesta held her breath for a moment, a pause, and stilled entirely. The Court of Nightmares. She knew the verdict would be severe, but never would she have expected exile to a world of terror. The horrors of that place, of how it was once the main residence of the High Lord- till Rhysand.

Rhysand, the man who boasted of lands bountiful with choice and reason, now sat across from her donning unmasked hatred. A look he kept shielded from his mate, reserved just for Nesta. The kind that rips one apart from the inside out, would carve out the belly of a beast, burn a witch on a wooden pyre.

Nesta felt nothing, she always did. It wasn’t hard to see what he was thinking of her, how his beautiful wife’s wretched sister was little more than a gambling thief who slept her way through his glorious city. Now, fingers smeared that blank canvas so pure of her darkest shades.

Eyes flicking back, she studied that same sister. The Cursebreaker, the Savior.

How small and insignificant she became next to the glimmering shining thing Feyre was. The lands spoke of her beauty and kind touch, and how she sacrificed everything to save a world of people, and Fae that she was raised to despise.

Nesta wished it’d be known that her touch wasn’t always kind.

She built her bricks firm enough that her house of grace never shattered; Held firm, it was all she had left in her. Too many eyes on her filled with grief, excitement, retribution-Nesta was keenly aware of how this Court of Dreams felt of her.

“This is an exile.”

Rhysand's smirk peaked so slightly, his mate tensing.

“No, no. This is an intervention, a chance for you to find yourself away from bad influences and habits. You can’t keep living like this, and I refuse to let it continue happening and I take the fall for it. Your decisions are impractical and immoral. You are sober much less than you are drunk and-”

“If you’re going to condemn me, do it. But don’t sit here and act as if this is out of kindness.” Nesta snarled. She hated the barbed words, but it’s what she felt. “Who are you to question my morality?”

“I think I can speak for my wife when I say that your presence here is….” Rhysand growled but pulled back, like he forgot Feyre was right there, too.

Nesta wished he would’ve let go, so maybe that facade Rhys reserved for Feyre was broken. No, that’s cruel. As much as she hated this and him, he was making her sister happy.

Something Nesta could never do.

“I do not give a shit what my presence is doing. The decision has already been made, so stop scolding me like a child and make good on your word, Rhysand.” Bile rose in her throat, the words feeling nothing but slimy and disgusting. Foreign, yet habitual all the same. Sometimes, she forgets there once was a woman called Nesta who was so much more than the viper living in her now.

Sometimes she remembers that she can’t ever be her again.

Home was nowhere for her, not in a person, not in a place, certainly not in this bombastic group of “heroes”. Nesta didn’t need a hero, she just needed someone to care. But Nesta knew better, no one would. She was taught to be unlovable, just a woman to be sold off and married- to climb her mothers' ever-growing social ladder.

But Nesta on her own was never enough, even with her mother six feet under and rotted away there were unsung expectations unmet. She was a catastrophic failure and a dark smear on a family name that never truly held weight to her.

Nesta looked up, felt everything all at once again, could only see one man pacing a worn-through tether between them. He wasn’t going to stop this, but she could see it, how it looked like he wanted to jump out of his own flesh, the veins of his arm prominent and knuckles normally so brown a new fresh fallen snow.

There was no prince to save Nesta, much less any will to save herself. So when Mor took the pleasure of bringing her to a living Hell, Nesta did not fight.

She was tired of fighting, after all, she fought an inescapable fate for the first twenty years of her life…

Flowers always made Nesta sneeze, but Elain lit like lights during winter whenever she could thread them through her hair. They all symbolized something, Laine would say. There are ones for good days, and hard storms, for sunshine and stars.

Nesta was always adorned in flowers that paralleled the estate. Astute, cold, tired, where she was warm, comforting, and smelled like cookies- ones that Celia normally baked for the sisters. She never asked Laine why she picked the ones for her that she did, her reasons would stay silent for now.

Spring was a high time of activity in the Archeron estate. There was always a flurry of activity, from preparing their mothers' obscene balls, to guests at every corner in every room. The halls were sprinkled in candles and on walls hung frames nearly kissing it was packed so tight.

They were in the gardens. It was an Elain day, as the girls would call it, and no matter how boring or mundane her wishes were they’d be fulfilled. Nesta was propped on the floor in front of Laine, who was bunching handfuls to weave in tangled auburn coils that gathered on Nesta’s head- as a bird's nest would.

Eventually, Nesta would have to learn braids or risk knotting the curls entirely.

The eldest basked in the silence she created from mentally muting her middle sister, and spared a glance at Feyre. What she saw was not surprising, but required far more willpower than she expected to not burst into laughter and risk the flowery rat's nest on her scalp.

Feyre appeared to be so bored out of her mind she was eating discarded flowers of Elains. Actually, ingesting them, as if she was a critique. When Elain wasn’t looking at Feyre, she’d grab another couple and study them- analyzing her next experiment. Glaring at the blues and yellows as if she was speaking to them, “Which one of you will make me puke the fastest so I can run away?”

In time, Feyre looked up from her taste tests to see Nesta grinning at her so violently you’d think Feyre hung the moon.

And Feyre beamed back, crossing a pinkie across her chest and pointing it back to Nesta. Then she viciously spit out the grass she’d just finished chewing, crying directly at Laine, “This MUST stop at once, my stomach hurts far too much to continue on here.”

Elain, in a garden so quiet, simply ignored her sister's poor attempts at escape. Making Nesta work even harder to stifle the shaking of her shoulders, covering her mouth and nose before she started wheezing. Elain would hardly hurt a fly but sent Nesta a glare that could’ve easily killed a man.

Nesta cleared her throat, “I do believe there are more of the blue flowers down that hill near the pond. Would you mind getting some more for Laine?”

Feyre was already on her feet, mouthing her thanks as Elain turned her back to get the next bunch of flowers, “Why of course I will!” And with a very bad curtsey, Feyre threw off her shoes and was rolling down the hill, spinning wildly, her laughter sure to be heard in meadows far beyond theirs.

You would find the Archeron sisters all together, or never in the same place.

Laine was the easiest to find, by the waters or pond on the east side, in gardens surrounded with bugs and willows calling to the young girl. She could hardly read but if the text included any mention of colors and blooms, suddenly she was a scholar. Elain was not simple or dull, but rather a passive spirit, like a summer wind- brief, fleeting, but teeming with love and hope.

Feyre, as their mother said, was a reckless wild child. Far too young to care, far too small to be whipped into shape. If you were sent to find her and your life depended on it, may the Mother bless you. Feyre liked the kitchen, because of the immaculate food and maids who would shove any sweet down the littlest Archerons throat. But, also for the immeasurable amount of sharp items to be found in there. If it was pointy and could stab a wall or scare their ice-cold mother, Feyre would be running the halls with it in hand or making targets of her fathers old trade route maps.

Then there was Nesta, the firstborn. Molded to be another woman that she somehow couldn’t fit, as if her feet were too big or hair too long, Nesta was outgrowing the standards forged into her being. You would see her as a ghost, floating in and out of rooms, comfortable in silence and slumber, but never escaping people. She loved the maids and could recite all of their names like clockwork, and the workers loved her in turn. Always stuck in new worlds between pages or willingly dragged by the two youngers, Nesta teemed with liberation. She was often alone, but never lonely, and found new loves in the library or in the fields beyond marble confines.

Adela was constantly dissatisfied with her eldest's progress inside these walls, as if at eight she should’ve already been engaged to a prince. Granted, Adela knew better. Nesta would never truly find another kingdom to buy into when she already had a crown waiting for her elsewhere. She was known as fair and beautiful beyond her years, would age like fine wine, and become so much greater than Adela ever was. What Nesta saw as fit would normally come to be, an instinct Adela was unprepared she would inherit. Nothing left her more confused than this daughter only by blood, who was hated by both her parents for reasons far from the same, and how at less than ten years had an entire mansion wrapped around her fingers.

But Adela would wait, and simply leave them be for now. When viper's strike, they kill. And even though the Matron of the house wanted her little queen gone, she had other ways to see this through.

Anyways, children's blood on her hands would stain her diamonds.

---

Cassian

Cassian was violently fucking ill. Watching whatever the fuck that was did not help in the slightest. The second she was gone, so was he.

The General and High Lord were not on speaking terms, his presence was an obligation and not a request. When Rhys first displayed his plans, Cassian just about murdered him. Had his brother on the table in a chokehold that the Shadowsinger had to come and release Rhys from. The way his so-called family planned her exile was… horrific.

Cassian was full of light and humor, but not dull the way his family made him out to be. He could see this for what it was, punishing an already broken female for not meeting every damn need of a fully grown woman that was no longer her responsibility. Cass knew better than to downplay the sacrifices Feyre made, but he was also well aware that Nesta's habits were hardly a financial problem and more of a reputation scandal.

That’s what the High Lord did best, when his Court was breaking at the bonds, the mess would “disappear”. Just like the Illyrians hidden in the mountains, the displaced families of Spring, the homeless warriors of Night.

Cassian loved his brother, but more often than not he wondered when Fate would come to bite them in the asses for Rhys’ neglect.

Now, here he was, in his mothers' cabin, wings dragging behind him wiping tears long since shed over a woman who was thrown to the wolves and torn into so many scraps he wasn’t sure how he could put her together again.

He missed his Nesta, the one who threw glares and begged for her people, not this one who hardly spoke and caved into herself enough that she couldn’t see where she was heading.

Cassian fingered for his mug in the wooden cabinets and hit his mark, soon placing water to heat over a small fire over the counter.

He was not okay, not okay at all.

When you look for something in the dark for too long, you eventually find what you need but not always in the way you expect. Cassian coped the same as Nesta Archeron in his first years post-war. It was suffocating trying to be the happy one while dying inside. He watched men he looked up to fall and a lover he admired take her last breath- too much in far too little time. Cassian was not an idiot, he was simply perplexed. Why was he allowed to grieve in unacceptable manners, but Nesta was a sinner in holy clothing?

Bright walls and unlit rooms in the house were silent, only the winds of the mountains singing outside. The newly dusted snow wrapped the dirt in a delicate kiss- a forbidden touch. It was the peak of winter, just after Feyre’s birthday and another insufferable party.

One that Nesta wasn’t invited to.

Cassian wished he wasn’t invited either.

The cup in his hands was dwarfed in comparison to the bulky Illyrian holding it, but at least it was warm. At least it wasn’t empty.

Because if there was one thing he knew, it could always be worse.

Cassian knew that if things were a little different, he’d be the one sitting in a prison of darkness and Hell because of mistakes made as a child. He’d be exiled by family, cast away by the only living remains of a life once lived.

Nesta didn’t know but long before this he had called it even, their sins atoned for in hurting each other equally.

She was the only one in the world who could tell which smiles he was faking.

To anyone on the outside, one kiss was merely that. How curious it was, the iceberg went far deeper.

So when the mug crashed against the wall, and in its wake resembled his inner turmoil, Cassian took to the skies and found himself at the door of a place far too familiar.

.

.

.

AHHHHHHHH OMG OKAY hope you guys enjoyed this:) if you want to be added to the tag list let me know!

@lovemeforever12345 @champanheandluxxury @nahthanks@perseusannabeth@queenestarcheron@silvernesta

@loosingdreams@sayosdreams@audreycressworth@cyra04@that-golden-lyre@nessiantrashh@misswonderflower@dontgetsalmonella@caram267@bickbickbarnes@sabrinasam-blog

[honeypirate]

I’m glad it’s you (soulmate)

Tamaki Amakiji x fem reader

Warnings - has spoilers from season five episode 1. I don’t know if it’s accurate bc I don’t remember the episode all the way but I wanted to use that part of it

(I don’t know anything about Mirio’s parents and can’t find much on google)

Summary: Having the ability to see color since you were a toddler, you and your parents assume you just don’t have a soulmate and were spared the grey dull life without one. Tamaki, being in the same boat, thinks it’s too good to be true that his crush likes him back...

You felt lucky your whole life. Lucky to always have color when all your friends saw in grey. It was like pleasantville for them and you were blessed with color.

Sure, you’ve heard stories of people who find their soulmates as children who always had color, but your childhood friend was Mirio and he still saw in grey.

You head out of your room, your backpack bouncing along your back as you skipped down the stairs, humming a soft song stuck in your head as you make your way into the kitchen.

“Good morning Tamaki” you say softly, finding him at the table eating breakfast. “Good morning” he says down into his bowl. “How did you sleep?” You ask gently, he’s an introverted quiet guy and you always tried to make sure you weren’t doing anything that made him uncomfortable, the three years he’s known you at school he’s always appreciated that about your friendship.

He clears his throat, and you notice him shiver once “good.” He says and then surprises you by asking “You?” And looks up to your eyes for just a moment before he looked back to his breakfast.

“I slept well. Had crazy dreams though” you get your breakfast, just a pop tart, but you still want to sit with him “do you mind if I sit with you?” You ask, though the table had many chairs, all of which except his were empty.

“No” he says with a slight head shake and you smile, taking the chair one away from him. Close but not too close.

When your first pop tart was eaten, he speaks and it makes you smile “what.. uhh.. wh-what was your dream?” He asks his voice a little shaky

You swallow and smile, looking over to him as you spoke. “I was in space and you and mirio were there. We were shopping and then there were like colorful bubbles that I had to search though because one held the name of soulmate. But someone else found the bubble before I could and stole my soulmate. Then it turned out that person was a villain and we had to fight him and you and mirio died and I was alone in space. I don’t know what happened to the villain I just ended up alone.” You shrug, it wasn’t a nightmare just was strange.

You finish to it pop tart and roll up the paper towel you had so you can throw it away.

“Do - do you want to know m-my dream?” He asks and you smile, placing your elbow on the table and leaning your chin on your hand “yes. I do” you say with a small smile, making eye contact with him for just a moment, noticing his cheeks flush as he looks down again.

“I was on a mountain” he swallows hard and closes his eyes so he can speak without knowing you were looking at him. Which you weren’t, your gaze was shifted to the wall behind him, Mirio’s smiling face poking out from the wall.

“A-and you were there with me. You helped me learn how to fly” you smile warmly at him when he looks up to you. “That’s a lovely dream, Tamaki” you say “I wish I could fly with you, that would be amazing” you scoot from your chair to the one close to him and reach out “do you mind?” You ask, your hand beside his hair and he nods his head slowly once, his eyes looking into yours for the longest time he’s ever looked back at you.

Touching him wasn’t a new thing but you always asked before you did, just in case he didn’t like it.

You run your fingers through his hair and Mirio in the background cheers in silence, making your cheeks heat a little.

“Your hair is as soft as I hoped it would be. I love the color. I don’t think I’ve ever told you. this is actually my favorite color”

“Hey guys we’re gonna be late!” Nejire says as she comes into the the kitchen “no!” Mirio says and grabs his head making you and Tamaki jump and you pull back your hand. “No what?” She asks and Mirio tries to cover by laughing “just don’t want to be late!” He says awkwardly before he grabs an apple and tosses one at Nejire and pushes her outside of the dorm.

“They’re weird” you say with a laugh and get up, tossing your trash as he puts he rinses his bowl and puts it in the dishwasher. “Yeah” he says softly, his cheeks still flushed from you touching his hair.

***

“I love when we can be villains! If I didn’t have a quirk I’d want to be an actor” you say as you wait beside Tamaki in the training grounds. “I don’t like it” he says and you smile warmly “but you’re always so good at it” you say and he blushes “t-thanks” he mumbles and before you can talk anymore class 1A arrives on the scene.

“Tamaki!” You shouted from across the field, you were running as hard as you could trying to get to him when you saw Bakugou getting ready to blast him even after the training was called to an end.

You got there just as he released his grenade and you dropped to the ground, grabbing Tamaki’s hand and bracing yourself as you feel the heat burn your skin in a few places and rocks and dust hitting you as you close your eyes.

After the dust settles you pushed Bakugou off Tamaki and Kirishima drags him off

“Hey hey hey” you say softly and brush his hair from his face and dust off the rocks and “are you okay? That was completely out of line” he groans and you help him sit up “Tamaki?” You ask softly and he meets your eye “hi” you say softly and you run your fingers through his hair hoping to calm him down “hi” he says, his eyes were a little distant and you smile softly “let’s get you to Recovery Girl, okay? Is it okay if touch you and help you?” He nods and you help him to his feet, your arm wrapping around his middle as his arm wraps around your shoulder.

He was a little out of it, but not too far out of it to not have any reaction to you helping him. His hands were clammy and his heart was racing. He was thinking about how nice it is to feel your fingers through his hair. How nice you smell from your hair being so close to his nose. He wanted to bury his face in your hair and tell you how he thinks your eyes are the prettiest shade he’s ever seen. But his anxiety and nerves and the pain in his body won’t let him do that right now.

You stay with him the entire time he gets looked after, talking to mr aizawa and the principle about what happened from your point of view. After that, you were allowed to change from your hero suit and head back to the dorms.

You walked beside Tamaki back to the dorm, his bag over your shoulder no matter what he said to try and get you to let him carry it himself.

You place his bag down beside his bed and then head to the door “text me. Okay? If you need anything” you say softly and turn to meet his eyes. His eyes widen for a moment but he makes himself stay meeting your eye as he nods. “thank you” he says and you smile, making his heart race “of course, Tama”

“You should text her man” Mirio said as he pulled himself from the wall. “I don’t know” Tamaki says as he sits on his bed. “You should. She even said you could” Tamaki nods but says nothing.

“How about we all go to my parents place for dinner this weekend! Then you can have more time to talk to her without it being a big thing” Tamaki’s eyes light up for a moment “can we-?” Mirio nods “of course! My moms been telling me to bring home my friends anyway. So I’ll talk to Nejire and Y/n and it’ll be great!”

~ Skip to that weekend ~

“I love your mom! I’m so excited to see her again!” You say and hold on to Mirio’s arm. Tamaki gives Mirio a look and he laughs “mine and y/n’s moms are best friends” he says and Tamaki nods “that’s nice” he says and you can see in his eyes he means it.

“Thank you ma’am” you say as she hands you a plate and she laughs “you don’t have to be so formal” she says and you shrug with a smile

“I know but old habits” you say

Tamaki watches this whole exchange from right across from you. Watches how you smile and how bright your eyes get as you look down at your plate, waiting for everyone else to have one before you dig in to the food that’s laid out on the table.

You look up and make eye contact with him and he gasps, a pink blush dusting his cheeks but again, he uses every strength he can muster to not look away and realizes how worth it it was when you smile softly at him with closed eyes as you lightly bump your foot into his.

He’s heard about footsie before from Mirio, knows it simple and you don’t even have to really look at each other. But he can’t muster up the guts to bump your foot back. He sits there, eating quietly, speaking when absolutely necessary, and peaking at you through his hair every once in a while.

‘Just do it’ he thinks to himself ‘it’ll be fine. She started it. You can do it too. Just get some guts and do it god damn it!’

He moves his foot out, a little too quickly but he realized it too late. Feeling immediate regret and panic when his foot hits yours with too much force.

He expects you to yell at him or send him a glare but you surprise him, silencing all his doubts and fears by looking up into his eyes and smiling again. Reaching out with your foot and sliding it along the side of foot.

His cheeks flush red as he looks down to his plate, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as you repeat the action.

This continued the rest of the meal and Tamaki felt like a blushing mess but every time he met your eye he realized that you weren’t looking at him like you thought he was a mess. Your eyes were sweet and he could see the flush on your cheeks and ears, a few patches on your neck and chest that truly showed that you were feeling similar to him.

Realizing that you were feeling similar made him feel a little more bolder and braver. Keeping eye contact with you for a little bit longer than normal and branching out to run the toe of his shoe up to your ankle and back.

You chuckle under your breath and tried to hide how warm your cheeks were.

“Y/n are you okay dear? You look a little flushed” Mirio’s mother says and you laugh awkwardly “I’m good! You know how I like spicy things!” You awkwardly laugh and hope she buys it’s from the spicy food. Tamaki loves the sound, your laugh showing that you were as awkward as he was and that brought you down from the pedestal he had you on.

He had thought you were so many levels higher than him. Thought you were confident and thought you’d only want someone as confident as you. He feels like an idiot. You’re just a human being. A sweet girl who feels as awkward as he does sometimes. And you see color just like he does so that means you’re both without a soulmate. It seemed too good to be true.

After dinner you walked back to the dorms talking and laughing with Mirio. You kept looking behind you at Tamaki and smiling, making his heart skip every time.

You finished your conversation with Mirio and Nejire and then quietly made your way to stand beside Tamaki. “Hi” you say softly and he smiles, watching the sidewalk as he walked “hi” he said back and you chuckle softly “do you want to hang out tonight?” you ask softly but then cover quickly just in case it stresses him out “Nothing stressful!... just like. We can hang out in my room and watch Jujutsu Kaisen or something.”

He feels like his whole body is trembling he’s desperate to say yes but his tongue feels so thick. You reach out and gently take a hold of his hand “hey” you say softly and he meets your eyes “it’s okay. How about you come over or you don’t and either way.. We’re still good friends” you smile softly and he tries to return it, knowing it must have looked a little wonky, but he nods, and does something that feels against his every fiber, he doesn’t let go of your hand.

You look at him when you reach the elevator and he nods once, answering the question in your eyes. You smile and squeeze his hand gently as you press your floor number. When you both exit together you look over your shoulder and watch the elevator doors close on Mirio grinning and holding his chest over his heart.

“Have you seen this?” You ask as you type the website in your computer

He nods “I’m on episode 16” he says softly and you beam at him “I am too! What a coincidence. Do you mind if we just watch from there?” He shakes his head and you smile, clicking the episode.

You watch episode sixteen and in the middle of seventeen he shifts a little closer to you, his pinky taking a hold of yours. You hum in approval and turn to smile at him, moving the rest of the way close to him and holding your hand out with a smile.

He gently placed his palm against yours and laced your fingers together, you could feel how his hand shakes but you didn’t let on to it.

by the end of episode eighteen your head was on his shoulder. He reaches out and presses the space bar to pause the show but doesn’t say anything, just sits back and shifts more to turn into you, resting his cheek against your head that was still on his shoulder.

“Tama?” You whisper softly, cuddling into him more. “Yes?” He asks

“I like you”

He tenses, just for a few seconds, before he squeezes your hand softly

“I- like you too” he confesses, a whisper that he was kind of embarrassed about how not confident it sounded, but it was perfect for you.

You moved slowly, turning your head to look up at him, surprised and impressed when he met your eye unwavering.

“We’ll take it slow okay? Whatever you’re comfortable with. You don’t have to worry. I’m not gonna be mad or sad or think bad about you if you’re not comfortable with something and you don’t have to feel uncomfortable with me and you can talk to me about everything”

he smiles, his face heating up and he leans down to press his forehead to yours, your eyes fluttering closed. He sighs softly “thank you. I- I hope I can give you what you need” you smile and rest your other hand on his chest “you already do” you whisper.

“- kiss you?” He whispers so soft you didn’t even hear the first words but you nod softly against him. Your heart fluttering and your breathing becoming quicker. He swallows, his hand squeezing yours a little tighter as he tries to talk himself into closing the small distance but he seems stuck, he feels like a fish out of water. He gasps softly, relaxing almost immediately when your hand moves up into his hair, softly running your fingers through it as you patiently wait for him.

You’re so sweet. So patient and caring, he felt so extremely lucky. He feels his body relax and he leans ever so slightly, connecting his lips to yours.

(One month later)

“Thanks for having us back so soon ma’am” you say and she smiles, her eyes saying what you’ve heard a hundred times but she just shakes her head. “Of course! I love you kids. It’s nice to see you two finally getting together too! You’d think soulmates would stay closer through the years but I guess I was wrong” you and Tama both choke, you on your water and him on the air.

“What was that mom?” Mirio says, wide eyes

“They’re soulmates!” She exclaims like it was obvious “... right? I mean all those times I babysat you guys as toddlers, they were thicker than thieves and talking about every color in the book I guess I just assumed. Are you not..?” She trails off but you’re just looking into Tamaki’s eyes.

“You were the little boy I knew.” You whisper with a smile

“You’re my soulmate.” he whispers back, immensely more relaxed around you than he was at the beginning.

“You didn’t know?” Mirio’s mom asks and you laugh and shake your head “I thought I didn’t have one and that’s why I saw colors. I didn’t know it was because I met him right away”

“I don’t even remember being babysat as a kid” Tamaki admits with a blush, his hand resting against your knee under the table, confident and not shaking.

“I’m glad it’s you” you whisper and smile when his blush deepens. “Me too” he says back, his hand squeezing your knee gently.

[usuallyapirate]

A short Introduction to the most common Player-Races in Dungeons and Dragons as given by the DnD 5e Players Handbook:

Dwarf

“Yer late,elf!” came the rough edge of a familiar voice. Bruenor Battlehammer walked up the back of his dead foe, disregarding the fact that the heavy monster lay on top of his elven friend. In spite of the added discomfort, the dwarf’s long, pointed, often-broken nose and gray-streaked though still-fiery red beard came as a welcome sight to Drizzt. “Knew I’d find ye in trouble if I came out an' looked for ye!" 

– R.A. Salvatore, The Crysta lShard

Kingdoms rich in ancient grandeur, halls carved into the roots of mountains, the echoing of picks and hammers in deep mines and blazing forges, a commitment to clan and tradition, and a burning hatred of goblins and orcs—these common threads unite all dwarves.

Elf

“I HAVE NEVER IMAGINED SUCH BEAUTY EXISTED,” Goldmoon said softly. The day’s march had been difficult, but the reward at the end was beyond their dreams. The companions stood on a high cliff over the fabled city of Qualinost. Four slender spires rose from the city’s corners like glistening spindles, their brilliant white stone marbled with shining silver. Graceful arches, swooping from spire to spire, soared through the air. Crafted by ancient dwarven metalsmiths, they were strong enough to hold the weight of an army, yet they appeared so delicate that a bird lighting on them might overthrow the balance. These glistening arches were the city’s only boundaries; there was no wall around Qualinost. The elven city opened its arms lovingly to the wilderness.

 – Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman, Dragons of Autumn Twilight

Elves are a magical people of otherworldly grace, living in the world but not entirely part of it. They live in places of ethereal beauty, in the midst of ancient forests or in silvery spires glittering with faerie light, where soft music drifts through the air and gentle fragrances waft on the breeze. Elves love nature and magic, art and artistry, music and poetry, and the good things of the world.

Halfling

Regis the halfling, the only one of his kind for hundreds of miles in any direction, locked his fingers behind his head and leaned back against the mossy blanket of the tree trunk. Regis was short, even by the standards of his diminutive race, with the fluff of his curly brown locks barely cresting the three-foot mark, but his belly was amply thickened by his love of a good meal, or several, as the opportunities presented themselves. The crooked stick that served as his fishing pole rose up above him, clenched between two of his toes, and hung out over the quiet lake, mirrored perfectly in the glassy surface of Maer Dualdon. 

– R.A. Salvatore, The Crystal Shard

The comforts of home are the goal of most halflings‘ lives: a place to settle in peace and quiet, far from marauding monsters and clashing armies; a blazing fire and a generous meal; fine drink and fine conversation. Though some halflings live out their days in remote agricultural communities, others form nomadic bands that travel constantly, lured by the open road and the wide horizon to discover the wonders of new lands and peoples. But even these wanderers love peace, food, hearth, and home, though home might be a wagon jostling along a dirt road or a raft floating downriver.

Human

These were the stories of a restless people who long ago took to the seas and rivers in longboats, first to pillage and terrorize, then to settle. Yet there was an energy, a love of adventure, that sang from every page. Long into the night Uriel read, lighting candle after precious candle. She'd never given much thought to humans, but these stories fascinated her. In these yellowed pages were tales of bold heroes, strange and fierce animals, mighty primitive gods, and a magic that was part and fabric of that distant land. 

– Elaine Cunningham, Daughter of the Drow

In the reckonings of most worlds, humans are the youngest of the common races, late to arrive on the world scene and short-lived in comparison to dwarves, elves, and dragons. Perhaps it is because of their shorter lives that they strive to achieve as much as they can in the years they are given. Or maybe they feel they have something to prove to the elder races, and that’s why they build their mighty empires on the foundation of conquest and trade. Whatever drives them, humans are the innovators, the achievers, and the pioneers of the worlds.

Dragonborn

Her father stood on the first of the three stairs that led down from the portal, unmoving. The scales of his face had grown paler around the edges, but Clanless Mehen still looked as if he could wrestle down a dire bear himself. His familiar well-worn armor was gone, replaced by violet-tinted scale armor with bright silvery tracings. There was a blazon on his arm as well, the mark of some foreign house. The sword at his back was the same, though, the one he had carried since even before he had found the twins left in swaddling at the gates of Arush Vayem. Father’s face was as kill she'd been fortunate to learn. A human who couldn’t spot the shift of her eyes or Havilar’s would certainly see only the indifference of a dragon in Clanless Mehen’s face. But the shift of scales, the arch of a ridge, the set of his eyes, the gape of his teeth – her father's face spoke volumes. But every scale of it, this time, seemed completely still— the indifference of a dragon, even to Farideh.

– Erin M. Evans, The Adversary

Born of dragons, as their name proclaims, the dragonborn walk proudly through a world that greets them with fearful incomprehension. Shaped by draconic gods or the dragons themselves, dragonborn originally hatched from dragon eggs as a unique race, combining the best attributes of dragons and humanoids. Some dragonborn are faithful servants to true dragons, others form the ranks of soldiers in great wars, and still others find themselves adrift, with no clear calling in life.

Gnome

Skinny and flaxen-haired, his skin walnut brown and his eyes a startling turquoise, Burgell stood half as tall as Aeron climb up on a stool to look out the peephole. Like most habitations in Oeble, that particula tenement had been built for humans, and smaller residents coped with the resulting awkwardness as best they could. But at least the relative largeness of the apartment gave Burgell room to pack in all his gnome-sized gear. The front room was his workshop, and it contained a bewildering miscellany of tools: hammers, chisels, saws, lockpicks, tinted lenses, jeweler's loupes, and jars of powdered and shredded ingredients for casting spells. A fat gray cat, the mage’s familiar, lay curled atop a grimoire. It opened its eyes, gave Aeron a disdainful yellow stare, then appeared to go back to sleep. 

– Richard Lee Byers, The Black Bouquet

A constant hum of busy activity pervades the warrens and neighborhoods where gnomes form their close-knit communities. Louder sounds punctuate the hum: a crunch of grinding gears here, a minor explosion there, a yelp of surprise or triumph, and especially bursts of laughter. Gnomes take delight in life, enjoying every moment of invention, exploration, investigation, creation, and play.

Half-Elf

Flint squinted into the setting sun. He thought he saw the figure of a man striding up the path. Standing, Flint drew back into the shadow of a tall pine to see better. The man's walk was marked by an easy grace – an elvish grace, Flint would have said; yet the man’s body had the thickness and tight muscles of a human, while the facial hair was definitely humankind’s. All the dwarf could see of the man’s face beneath a green hood was tan skin and a brownish-red beard. A longbow was slung over one shoulder and a sword hung at his left side. He was dressed in soft leather, carefully tooled in the intricate designs the elves loved. But no elf in the world of Krynn could grow a beard ... no elf, but...

“Tanis?” said Flint hesitantly as the man neared.

“The same.” The newcomer’s bearded face split in a wide grin. He held open his arms and, before the dwarf could stop him, engulfed Flint in a hug that lifted him off the ground. The dwarf clasped his old friend close for a brief instant, then, remembering his dignity, squirmed and freed himself from the half-elf’s embrace. 

– Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman, Dragons of Autumn Twilight

Walking in two worlds but truly belonging to neither, half-elves combine what some say are the best qualities of their elf and human parents: human curiosity, inventiveness, and ambition tempered by the refined senses, love of nature, and artistic tastes of the elves. Some half-elves live among humans, set apart by their emotional and physical differences, watching friends and loved ones age while time barely touches them. Others live with the elves, growing restless as they reach adulthood in the timeless elven realms, while their peers continue to live as children. Many half-elves, unable to fit into either society, choose lives of solitary wandering or join with other misfits and outcasts in the adventuring life.

Half-Orc

The warchief Mhurren roused himself from his sleeping-furs and his women and pulled a short hauberk of heavy steel rings over his thick, well-muscled torso. He usually rose before most of his warriors, since he had a strong streak of human blood in him, and he found the daylight less bothersome than most of his tribe did. Among the Bloody Skulls, a warrior was judged by his strength, his fierceness, and his wits. Human ancestry was no blemish against a warrior – provided he was every bit as strong, enduring, and blood thirsty as his full-blooded kin. Half-orcs who were weaker than their orc comrades didn't last long among the Bloody Skulls or any other orc tribe for that matter. But it was often true that a bit of human blood gave a warrior just the right mix of cunning, ambition, and self-discipline to go far indeed, as Mhurren had. He was master of a tribe that could muster two thousand spears, and the strongest chief in Thar. 

– Richard Baker, Swordmage

Whether united under the leadership of a mighty warlock or having fought to a standstill after years of conflict, orc and human tribes sometimes form alliances, joining forces into a larger horde to the terror of civilized lands nearby. When these alliances are sealed by marriages, half-orcs are born. Some half-orcs rise to become proud chiefs of orc tribes, their human blood giving them an edge over their full-blooded orc rivals. Some venture into the world to prove their worth among humans and other more civilized races. Many of these become adventurers, achieving greatness for their mighty deeds and notoriety for their barbaric customs and savage fury.

Tiefling

“But you do see the way people look at you, devil’s child." Those black eyes, cold as a winter storm, were staring right into her heart and the sudden seriousness in his voice jolted her.

“What is it they say?" he asked. “One’s a curiosity, two’s a conspiracy—”

“Three's a curse,” she finished. “You think I haven’t heard that rubbish before?”

“I know you have.” When she glared at him, he added, “It’s not as if I’m plumbing the depths of your mind, dear girl. That is the burden of every tiefling. Some break under it, some make it the millstone around their neck, some revel in it.” He tilted his head again, scrutinizing her, with that wicked glint in hiseyes. “You fight it, don’t you? Like a little wildcat, I wager. Every little jab and comment just sharpens your claws.” 

– Erin M. Evans, Brimstone Angels

To be greeted with stares and whispers, to suffer violence and insult on the street, to see mistrust and fear in every eye: this is the lot of the tiefling. And to twist the knife, tieflings know that this is because a pact struck generations ago infused the essence of Asmodeus – overlord of the Nine Hells – into their bloodline. Their appearance and their nature are not their fault but the result of an ancient sin, for which they and their children and their children’s children will always be held accountable.

[toxicjayhoe]

We don’t have to dance

Explicit

Shinso / Reader(OC)

M / F

Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot

I mean there's some plot in my head but y'all don't get to see that haha

Cunnilingus

Blow Jobs

Hitoshi is a good boy

he asks for consent

Brainwashing

Oral Sex

Vaginal Sex

Unprotected Sex

Aged-Up Character(s) obviously

Light Dom/sub

Choking

Ahegao

Smut

He glanced across the overcrowded room, observing acquaintances and strangers as they socialized and sipped their drinks, swaying to the beat of the music. The open space of the hero office had been rearranged as to accommodate as many individuals as possible for this year’s Christmas celebration.

Shinso had never really been the type who partied, but he thought it was important to attend, if only for appearances sake. As a new Pro-hero, he believed it was a necessity to demonstrate he was a team player.

He took a mouthful of his cider, feeling it burn down his throat as he swallowed the effervescent drink. He never really drank either, but he enjoyed a nice glass every once in a while.

The couch he rested on was quite comfortable, he thought to himself as he settled back into it. He was more than content in just sitting here all evening until he believed it was acceptable to leave. He wasn’t interested in idle conversation about the weather or whatever these people were gossiping about to one another.

However, the universe had other plans for him it seemed, as Denki quickly approached him, shots in hand.

“Hey bestie, down this and let’s go get some ladies.” The blond handed the liquor towards him, urging him to take it, waggling his eyebrows and winking.

Shinso sighed, ignoring the offending alcohol currently being offered to him. “What ladies, Denki? We are at the bottom of the food chain here.”

“My dude, it’s a Christmas office party. Have you never seen a movie in your life? Things always get spicy at Christmas office parties.” He cackled, downing one of the shots and throwing the empty cup behind him. He pulled another from behind his back.

The purple haired man made a face, before chuckling quietly. “Where did that one come from?!”

Denki shrugged, shoving the two shots into Shinso’s hands. He rolled his purple eyes, giving in to maybe the only true friend he had.

He brought them to his lips, one after the other, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and placing the empty receptacles on the table by him. Of course Denki had chosen peppermint schnapps.

“I’m only going to be your wingman, and only because you could really use the support.” He said with a bored tone to his voice as he pushed himself up from the sofa. Denki whooped enthusiastically, rushing off to where Shinso could only assume the ladies were.

He unhurriedly trailed after him, making his way between the gatherings of individuals, being vigilant as to not come into contact with anyone as he passed them. He wasn’t fond of strangers to start, much less being touched by them in any way.

He was terrific at communicating when he was obligated to, which was merely when he was required to use his Quirk. He still had issues with it and, even now, citizens still told him it was better suited for a villain, but he’d come to terms with not being able to please everyone. As long as he did a respectable job as a pro-hero and protecting the populace, then he would be happy.

Once he finally made it beyond the crowd and to where Denki had run off to, said man was being rejected by yet another woman.

Jaw clenched as not to show any suggestion of a smirk, he clapped the blond on the back in sympathy.

“You’re aiming way too high, Denki. And you try too hard.” He said simply, unsure if it was the right thing to say or not. Nonetheless, the shorter man smiled up at him, seemingly undeterred by yet another loss.

“Let’s go play foosball!” Denki hollered, forcing him in the direction of the tabletop game, stealing two additional beverages as a waiter walked by them.

They played a few rounds, one versus the other. Shinso loathed to admit it, but he had struggled to keep up with the innate talent Denki appeared to have at the game.

Just as he began to genuinely start enjoying his night, Denki sprinted off, declaring he needed to piss. Shinso took the moment alone to survey his surroundings once more, taking in the sight of people’s inhibitions all but forgotten as alcohol started influencing their behaviors. He took another sip of his own drink, finishing it in one gulp.

If he was being honest with himself, he was also starting to feel the affects drinking had on his body and on his mind.

He leaned onto the wall behind him, arms crossed on his chest as Denki came into sight, marching towards him, arms intertwined with the two women at his sides.

One of them he recognized as Jiro, whom he was relatively convinced Denki had a major crush on. The other, however, he could not recall ever having the pleasure of meeting.

“Shinso, don’t be rude, say hi!” He rolled his eyes before nodding silently at them both. “Good enough. Okay! Me and Jiro against the two of you. Let’s do this.”

/\*\/*/\*\/*/\*\/*/\*\/*/\*\/*

Shinso was sure Denki had let him win for some odd reason his mind could not fathom.

As the two of them argued over why they lost the game, he cleared his throat, offering his hand to the shorter woman by his side

“I’m Shinso. Hitoshi Shinso. It’s nice to make your acquaintance”

She smiled, giving him a firm handshake.

“I know who you are, Brainwashing Hero.” His eyes widened, astonished anyone, let alone an alluring young woman, would know who he was. Was she not frightened of his quirk like everyone else had been? “My name is Aruna Ai.”

He heard himself hum before the words spilled from his mouth like word vomit.

“The moon does not fight. It attacks no one. It does not worry. It does not try to crush others. It keeps to its course, but by its very nature, it gently influences. What other body could pull an entire ocean from shore to shore? The moon is faithful to its nature and its power is never diminished.” He finished, taking a deep breath after such a long-winded sentence.

“Did you just quote Deng Ming-Doa’s Everyday Tao: Living with Balance and Harmony at me?” Aruna stared at Shinso, brows furrowed as her lips quirked up.

His hand found the back of his neck as heat rose to his cheeks in mortification, unable to look directly at her.

“Sorry, I don’t know where that came from, heh.” He continued to look everywhere but her, feeling crushingly stupid. Aruna chuckled, placing the palm of her hand on his muscular arm and squeezing.

“Don’t worry so much. I’m already a fan.” An overwhelming sense of calm overtook him then, like something paranormal was causing him to relax.

“What’s your quirk?” He blurted. He scratched his skull, once again mortified that he seemed to not have a filter tonight.

She squeezed his arm again before dropping her hand to her side, smiling brightly up at him.

“Well aren’t you just the most perceptive man?” She crammed her hand into her pockets, rocking back and forth on the heels of her shoes, seemingly deep in thought.

He patiently watched her.

“I can manifest emotions in others if I have direct skin contact with them. My power varies depending on the cycle of the moon though.”

He felt his eyebrow arch in curiosity. It was sort of similar to his own quirk, when he thought about it.

“That is truly fascinating, Aruna.”

She huffed and laughed. “Not as fascinating as being able to brainwash someone. I wonder what it feels like.”

“Care to find out?” He couldn’t believe the words leaving his own mouth.

“I would love to.” No hesitation in her voice, only a slight blush stained her cheeks.

His eyes narrowed as he stared into hers. “Are you sure?” His voice low.

She rolled her eyes “Of course I’m sure, Shin-“ Her eyes glazed over as her mind went blank.

“Follow me.” Came the command.

Although she had no control over her own movements, her mind was still aware enough to realise what was happening.

She was led across the crowds and through the halls. He silently guided her into an unoccupied office, small cots lined up on the walls.

He released his hold on her mind, allowing her a moment to turn around and leave, if she so chose.

His gaze never left her face, eyes concentrated on the way her cheeks darkened. Mortified, no doubt.

They remained standing, unmoving for long moments. Hesitation welled in him for a second, unsure of himself. Aruna’s breathing came out in a sigh as she strode forward, toward him in quick steps. When she reached him, her hands grasped his clothed shoulders as she pushed herself up onto the tips of her toes, raising her lips to meet his in a sweet kiss.

Purple eyes widened at the unexpected contact.

“I just… wanted to do that of my own accord first.” She whispered as she stepped back, breathing heavier than moments before, smile on her lips.

“You look at me like you think I’m someone else.” He said simply.

Her eyes narrowed, a look he could not read painting her features.

“How do I say this… We don’t have to talk, and we don’t have to dance around it, we don’t even have to be friends. I’m attracted to you…I want you to brainwash me. And…” She paused as Shinso slowly approached her.

Eyes peered into hers, pupils dilated. “And?”

“And… I want you to use me as you wis-“ Her mouth hung open, no words coming out as Shinso gained control once again. If she could smirk, she would have.

“Come here.” Her feet pulled her to where he was now sat on one of the cots.

Large hands grasped hers. The softness of her fingers in comparison to his own, rough and calloused, felt like heaven.

Shinso had never done anything like this before and the thrill of it all made blood rush through his entire body, his heart hammering in his chest.

He looked up into her blank eyes, dick twitching against his slacks at the sight of her. He couldn’t wait to see her ruined by him.

He couldn’t get enough of her soft skin, gliding his fingers up her arm and to her neck while the other hand drifted lower, reaching under her dress.

A devilish smirk formed on his face when his fingers tightened around her throat, a soft gasp leaving her mouth.

Hiking her dress up, he dug his fingers into her hip, pulling Aruna closer, lowering his head to kiss just above his tight grip.

Teeth grazed against her skin, eliciting soft moans from above as he nipped and kissed and sucked, marking her. He hoped the resulting bruises would last weeks, reminding her of tonight.

Despite that most thought that, while under the influence of his quirk, his victims couldn’t remember what they’d done under Shinso’s control, it all depended if he wanted them to remember or not.

He most definitely wanted Aruna to remember tonight, needed her to feel and see everything he would do to her and have her do to him.

“Spread your legs.”

A hum left his lips as she did what she was told, legs far enough apart for his face to fit nicely between soft thighs.

“Good girl.” He whispered, looking up into those blank eyes, her pupils now dilated, a look of lust filling them.

He kept his gaze fixated on hers as he released her neck, hand gliding to her breast, squeezing it gently. Fuck, he couldn’t get enough of her body. Her soft curves and her even softer skin. The breathy moans that left her lips at every new sensation.

Perhaps she was the one ruining him.

Both hands were on her hips, fingers slipping under the hem of her panties, dragging them down her legs and around her feet. He placed them in his pant pocket. They were his now.

As he pressed his nose to her, he inhaled deeply, a groan ripping through his throat. Absolute heaven, the scent of her driving him crazy with need.

His tongue met her folds, licking up to her clit before bringing it into his mouth and sucking. He felt her knees go weak, the only thing holding her up straight now were his strong hands at her hips.

She tasted absolutely amazing. Shinso’s eyes squeezed shut as he devoured her. He was sure his fingers were leaving bruises. He hoped they were.

Leaving her pussy for air was torture, but he could feel his control over her slipping as he got lost in the taste of her.

“I’m going to let go of your hips now. Don’t fall.”

He wiped his chin of her juices with the back of his hand, tongue darting out to gather the droplets on his lips. He pressed his palm down onto his cock, needing some kind of touch to release the pressure building inside him.

Nimble fingers unbuckled his belt, releasing his cock from its confines. Aruna glanced down, eyes lidded.

Her own tongue slipped from her mouth, licking her lips at the sight of him slowly stroking his cock, tired eyes locked on hers.

“Come taste me.” The commanding tone sent noticeable shivers down her spine, clearly trembling where she stood.

She could feel herself resisting the request, his control wavering as pleasure began to overtake his senses.

“ Obey me.” Aruna’s knees hit the floor, palms resting on his thighs as she positioned her mouth over him.

One calloused hand cupped her cheek, guiding her lower, the other gripping the base of his cock.

The sound that rumbled through his chest was unholy as she took as much of him into her warm mouth as she possibly could, hallowing her cheeks the instant the head hit the back of her throat.

“F-fuck. Aruna” His fingers fisted into her hair, staring down at her as drool dribbled down her chin. He gently pushed her down on his cock, face fucking her softly. He didn’t want to hurt her, but fuck if her wet tongue across the underside of his dick didn’t feel like paradise.

She moaned around him as he thrust into her mouth, sending delightful vibrations through him, dick twitching in her mouth. He was losing control. He could feel it.

Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock and- he was sure it would be the end of him. This girl. How did he get so fucking lucky?

Aruna’s fingers dug into his thighs as she came up for air, his quirk weak enough from the pleasure to break out of it.

His eyes widened as she quickly rose to her feet, pushing his chest down as she settled onto his lap, sitting on his cock, sinking down on it in one swift movement.

Strong hands grasped her hips once more, furiously fucking up into her. Every moan from her lips sent heat through him.

“You like that, baby?” He asked, voice hoarse and husky.

“Y-yes. Hah. You feel so good, Hitosh-“ Her pussy tightened around him, losing herself to his control once more.

“Silly girl. Stick your tongue out for me, and don’t stop fucking yourself on my cock.”

Her eyes blank again, tongue sticking out, drooling down her face. It was absolutely stunning. So fucking beautiful, and it was all for him. He had never seen anything so breathtaking.

He stared into her face, bringing his thumb to her clit, gently pressing circles into it and watched as she shuddered, grinding on him harder, breaths coming out unevenly, whimpers escaping her lips every time he bottomed out in her.

“You’re so beautiful. Aruna. Fuck. The way I fit inside you, like we were meant to be like this.”

The words left his mouth, any shame he might have felt discarded, pleasure overwhelming his every sense. She looked amazing, tasted amazing, smelt amazing. She was perfect.

He grasped her throat again, other hand on her ass as he met her thrust for thrust. She was close, he could feel it in the way her walls clenched around him, in the way her eyes crossed, tongue still lolling from her delicious little mouth.

“Come for me, my lovely moon. “

She stilled above him, walls clenching tight one more time as her insides fluttered around him, sending him over the edge, cock spurting deep inside her, a growl leaving his throat, fingers tightening painfully around her neck.

She collapsed against his chest as he released control over her, breathing heavily in the crook of his neck as he gently caressed her back and played with her hair, calming her as she came down from her orgasm.

Shinso adjusted her dress to cover her body. His heart felt full for what seemed like the first time in his life.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Aruna.”

He felt her smile against his neck.

There was no point in saving the world if it meant losing the moon.

Art by Me