#stares at u imploringly

[withonly-sweetheart]

what if you didnt...

• Life •

Sukuna grappling becoming a father while you give birth.

CW/TW: GN! reader, Labour/Childbirth, Sukuna typical violence mentions, BRIEF suggestive stuff, Nothing graphic, Religious metaphors & LOTS of life/death talk, (LMK if I should add anything else!)

Characters: Sukuna x Reader

AN: Nobody dies in this fic! It's fluff-ish. (It's Sukuna and reader giving birth, as fluffy as that can be man), prequel to this Descendant fic

   Life was such a fickle thing, not that it mattered to Sukuna. He was above life, death sickness and health, beyond it, above the proper empathy to care for it. It wasn't that he didn't understand, because he did, once mortal himself, and existing on this earth surrounded by the humanity that populated on it for years as a curse, he understood. But there was no legitimate reason for it to matter to him unless he could gain from a life, there was no reason to mind it.

And by the loose, greedy and otherwise just gluttonous standards of what it meant to be a creature of 'gain' to Sukuna, you fit it to the T, your life mattered to him. Your life, it was something he wanted, no needed to maintain to be kept satisfied, if you weren't there to be by his side, he'd be left starved.

To lose such a thing, would only ignite a certain wrath inside of him.

The screams of agony that parted from your pretty little lips had his chest twisting into a feeling of irritation. He much preferred your screams of ecstasy, making you scream his name in sweet pretty moans when he bedded you. Not this, screams of something he was also the culprit of in fairness, sobbed screams of pain as your body tore to birth his child.

Sukuna enjoyed such screeches of terror, weak defeated sobs he could rip and tear from the pathetic lot of mortals he terrorized, all of whose lives served no purpose to him. The issue is, yours does serve purpose, a great purpose to Sukuna. You're always there, by his side, and when you're not, it bothers him, he's greedy, hungry for you.

Your pain only infuriates him, he doesn't like it at all, no, he loathes listening to it.

Finally, finally, it stops after what felt like torturously long, it comes to a stop. Like that, the tightness inside his chest unwrapped, Sukuna didn't think he'd ever feel relief, he wouldn't need to, he had never fought an opponent he couldn't defeat, pillaged an army that would come close to his strength there was no concerns or worry for him to have to be relieved from. Yet here he was basking in such relief. Your screams stop, now instead replaced by the bothersome cries of something much more smaller. Squeaky small wails, that of an infant. his infant.

"Lord Sukuna." A muttered voice of one of the midwives comes through the door separating Sukuna from the delivery room. The door opens to the midwives attending finishing up and then all bowing in submission, their heads hanging low as Sukuna stands by the door-frame.

"Done?" He asks, more so a statement, a demand as everything he speaks is.

"Yes-" The meek voice of a midwife responds, she not daring to look up from the floor of the delivery room.

"Then what the hell are you dimwitted fools doing? OUT." There's the slightest growl in his voice at the command, one that though slight works wonders on any who dare stand in his presence, and to which without a moment of hesitation has all the midwives scatter out of the room, rushing out with their heads low. Only one pauses to shut the door behind herself, not wanting to risk the stupidity of leaving the door open.

Now, only the sounds of a baby's cries echo in the room, the small thing wrapped, protected in a small blanket. The moment is deafening as it is loud, there are as many thoughts as there is nothing in his eyes as he stares at the small baby you held. Yes, you made his child, 9 tedious months of him practically carrying you around everywhere and it was out now.

Sukuna was, well Sukuna, he didn't bother thinking much of the specifics, but rather the obvious reality of the situation during those passing months, and didn't see a reason to. He could still sleep with you, could still have you around, could still listen to your voice speak with him in converse. Was it different? Sure, but in no way that bothered him. Cravings? The King of the Curses can provide feasts. Tired? You needn't walk, he has four arms for a reason. The bodily change? Sukuna guts humans like pigs, the size of your stomach was far from grotesque to such a demon like Sukuna.

But now, he is met with the reality, the sight, the sound the smell of the newborn babe, absolutely reeking of familiarity, a literal complete being of two halves, Sukuna and you. It's overwhelming, and not in the way Sukuna likes, not in the hedonistic pleasures he enjoys but rather overwhelming in thoughts. Thoughts as rampant as blank in his mind, fogged like he was considering all of this.

"Sukuna." A clear call of his name comes from your throat despite its audible hoarseness of exhaustion, still as captivating as always, catching his entire attention. No one can command the Sukuna, but he doesn't need to be commanded when you call for him, because it's in his full will and gratification to come to your side, which he of course does. Stepping softly to where you are laid, surrounded by stained sheets, tools and incense presumably used in aid of the birth.

"What?" His throat rumbles, a question with no particular answer aside from the obvious literal whole baby you had birthed in your arms.

"Look at them... Beautiful, aren't they?" And perhaps by the grace of a god he'd doubted existed, there was a moment of serenity now, the fog cleared from the depths of his sick mind as he gazed upon the small bundle in your arms. That was your grace perhaps, no definitely, definitely your grace, you had bore his child.

That damned sinister grin came over his face as he reached down to the infant, the large monstrously large hand of his ever so delicately traced the cheek of the little one, a comical contrast between himself and the child. For the entirety of you and Sukuna's time spent together, he had considered you the only life that truly mattered to him, and now you had created a life from the mere womb, you've given him another life he'd find true importance in.

His child's life, blessed by the sanctified arms that cradled it.

"Divine, rather." He rumbled, a short snicker leaving his twisted tongue, but laced with genuine adoration. Utter devotion to this small life, to both two lives he had found himself so graciously gifted. Of you, of his child.

[wrioluvr]

sub yandere inmate x gn! prison warden reader

thank u all for 1000+ notes on my last post omg....<3 short fic about an idea i had as i work on part 2 of the sub yandere x himbo reader ♡♡♡ kinda wriothesley inspired coz thats bae...

cw: mentions of nsfw

"so let me get this straight." you sighed, looking at the man who was currently on the other side of the bars in disappointment. "you beat up some of the other inmates and got into a fight because.... they were talking shit about me?"

"exactly..... they were saying you were too strict! but they don't know how much you care for us.... such ungrateful bastards." his last words came out with an obvious distaste. he held the bars of his cell tightly, looking into your eyes imploringly for any sign of validation. "aren't... aren't you proud of me?"

you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. "no. you can't just hurt other people for my sake. i'm your warden. i can handle a few snarky comments." he had always been rather attached to you, but he had been acting overly clingy and whiny in the past few weeks. you wondered if solitary confinement was finally getting to his head.

at your words, he crumbled a little, sadness evident in the lines of his pout. your approval meant everything to him, so you being annoyed with him was the worst feeling in the world. but all of a sudden, he perked back up, seemingly coming up with a devilish idea. his voice dropped to a low whisper. "you know.... if you're that upset with me, i'm always ready for punishment." to get his point across, he pressed his ass to the bars, moaning softly as he felt the cold metal graze his hole. "a spanking would be perfect."

you immediately took a step back, glaring at him. "i don't believe in corporal punishment." you said sternly, trying to deter him from getting any more perverted ideas in his head. "you're not even really interested in getting better, are you?"

"whaaat. i am! come onnnnn. the only way you can get me to behave is if you spank me. i'll be a good boy. i promise."

"you know what would be a better punishment?"

"what?" his eyes light up at the thought of you taking the initiative to put him in his place.

"if i don't partake in your twisted scenarios and leave right now. try not to get into any more fights, okay?" you walked away, shaking your head as you wondered what on earth you would do with this pathetic man.

"seriously? no! come back...." he whined, slumping back down onto his bed, defeated. but at least he had got your attention with that stunt... you had been paying far more attention to the other inmates recently.

he giggles to himself, staring up at the ceiling of his cell. a few years meant nothing, if it meant that once he was out he could live out the rest of his days as your malewife, taking care of your every need. that was the one thing keeping him going. you wouldn't be so cruel as to deny him of his fantasy, would you?

[ddejavvu]

For mvm can I please req perv!virgin!stepbro!eddie x experienced reader pls (w mommy kink🙏 also pls don’t feel pressured like u have to write this!)

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

this post is 18+ (and so are its characters) and dark, minors dni.

Eddie's hips buck gently against the seam of your mattress, his hands gripping your bedsheets so hard that his knuckles turn white, and you're certain he'll rip the fabric.

"Eddie," You croon, running a hand through his messy, sweat-beaded hair as you sting from overstimulation, "Slow down, baby."

His long, lithe tongue only laps faster at your spent cunt, though, your words having no affect on him as he shakes his head vehemently, "Mommy," He whines, "Mommy I can't."

He has a smattering of unkempt stubble lazily growing in on his chin, and his jaw grates against your soft inner thighs. It burns, couples with your post-orgasm sensitivity, and you shift with a soft hiss, "Baby, breathe."

"No," Eddie pants, his exhale flowing steadily against your cunt, "I- I need more, need- need- agh!"

He lets out a choked cry into your slick cunt, suckling on your clit while tears brim on his lashes. You don't realize he's cumming until a visible wet spot floods the front of his jeans, and your heart warms seeing your baby boy trembling just for you.

"Good boy," You coo at him, letting him continue mouthing sloppily at your pussy as he brings himself down from what you're certain is his first orgasm, "Come here, sweetheart, I want to taste you."

He blinks up at you with those beautiful brown doe eyes of his, his lashes fluttering over his cheeks. He's reluctant to leave your soaked cunt, but does so when you beckon him forward, crawling eagerly onto the bed and straddling your waist, his cock and its corresponding damp denim rubbing against your stomach.

You lean up to kiss him, and his eyes flutter shut. One of your hands comes up to scratch at his scalp, just at the base of his neck. He shudders into the kiss and his hands flit up to your stomach, pressing into the warm skin there as your tongue slips skillfully into his mouth.

He tastes like you, and it's amazing. He's messy, sweaty, and desperate, if the way that he's grinding against your stomach is any indication, and he's still letting out beautiful whimpers that you swallow as soon as they escape his pretty pink lips, his chin still glistening with your slick.

You part with a soft squelch, and he stares imploringly at you with his pretty brown eyes, "Did- Did I do good?"

"You did fantastic, baby boy." You purr at him, pressing a kiss to his soaked chin, "You're a natural."

"I want to do it again." He whines, already missing the blissful warmth of your walls, "Please, please Mommy, 'wanna do it again."

"Not now," You reassure him with a hand on his cheek, his chin wobbling beneath your palm as he sniffles "Soon, baby. You did so good I need a break."

[sunaluvs]

bkg and trick or treating (if u dont do bkg im gonna ask for iwa.. <3)

this got longer than it was supposed to be but that's ok because dad!bakugou <33

"katsuki, don't forget to get your costume ready."

"'m not wearing a costume."

you narrow your eyes at him, tilting your head when he refuses to meet your gaze.

"we agreed yesterday that you'd wear a costume when you go trick or treating with our son, did we not?"

"no, you agreed, i didn't say shi—nothin' about that," he gruffly responds, his arms folded as he stares resolutely at the tv, pretending to take in some program talking about how deers mate.

"really now." your voice is flat and unimpressed, and for a moment, he thinks maybe he should shut up. you've been a bit stressed with preparing for halloween night, and your temper is a little shorter as a result.

but then he thinks about the absolute atrocity waiting for him in the back of his closet, and stubbornly opens his mouth again.

"why do i need to wear a costume, anyway? 'm not a damn kid."

he stills at the heavy sigh you let out as you take slow steps towards him. stopping behind him on the couch, you place your hands on his shoulders and lean down, ignoring the way he tenses ever so slightly.

"you're going to wear a costume," you begin with an awfully sweet voice, "because your son wants to match with you when he goes trick or treating, and we'll both be very sad if you don't."

he doesn't miss the tone in your voice, and he mentally grumbles at how utterly stupid this whole thing is; why the hell did he ever think letting his son dress up as him was a good idea, that's so fucking corny, and damn you for being so—

"katsuki."

"what."

"stop bitching at me in your head."

"how the hell—" he whips around incredulously, only to pause when he sees you raising your eyebrow. he scoffs and rolls his eyes, turning back around and grousing as he relaxes into your hold. "—screw you. i wasn't bitching at you. and that's two dollars in the swear jar."

"so you're gonna wear the costume?" you ignore him, tilting his head back and grinning when he sighs and pushes your face away, muttering complaints you choose to ignore under his breath.

"—wear the stupid damn thing. whatever."

"i'm gonna blow your face off."

you cough to cover up the laugh you couldn't hold in, pursing your lips as you try your damned hardest not to burst into hysterics at the sight of your husband.

"y'know," you begin, voice unsteady with barely restrained joy, "green is really your colour."

"i swear to fuckin'—"

"dad!"

you whip around to see a bundle of blond, orange and black run towards you, zooming between your legs and colliding into katsuki with an oof.

"look, we're matching!" your son exclaims, waving his gauntlet decorated hands around to catch your attention, "we're the number one and two heroes!"

"you are, aren't you," you grin, voice dripping in absolute glee when your husband glowers at you pulling out your phone, "look at my boys go."

"we're leaving," he abruptly announces, picking your kid up and placing him in his arms. you let a burst of laughter out when you see him hurriedly turning to go, your legs speedily making your way towards him.

"no, wait!" you quickly block the front door, "we have to take a photo for memories!"

"the hell we do," he gripes, "move."

"yes, papa, we need to take a picture," your son joins you, nodding his head and turning his big eyes to your husband, "like we always do!"

"one year won't make a difference."

"yes, it will," the kid protests, frowning in a way that's so much like katsuki it makes your heart momentarily melt, "it's, um, tera—terdi—tershon—"

"tradition, baby," you gently help him, smiling softly when he lights up.

"yeah, that! which means we can't skip it!"

you both look imploringly at the blond man, identical pouts and wide eyes on your faces as you slowly break down whatever weak resolve your husband had.

he scowls heatedly at you, clenching his jaw and undoubtedly cursing you out in his head. it lasts for approximately two minutes and thirty eight seconds (twenty five seconds more than usual), before heaving an annoyed sigh that lets you know you've won.

"yes!" you and your son cheer, and you hurriedly click on the camera app as katsuki grouches under his breath.

"hate those damn eyes," he mutters, before locking a stern gaze on you, "only one photo. and if you send it to anyone i'll blow that thing up."

"uh huh," you absentmindedly sound, trying to find a good angle with good lighting, before calling out, "okay, get ready. smile!"

(the picture comes out wonderfully, with your husband scowling as per usual and his mini counterpart glowing happily. it gets sent to the UA alumni groupchat, and katsuki nearly blows a fuse when kaminari suggests a switch of hair colours next time as well.

you decide to keep that in mind.)

[rocorambles]

imagine tendou starts to date you and everything’s great but you decide to break up with him bc he never opens up to u. You hear sounds outside your house and find tendou’s been keeping an eye on you. You tell him he can’t do that bc you aren’t dating anymore but he can’t stand to be away from his pretty girl. You tell him the only way you’ll date him is if he opens up to you and he agrees. pt.1~ kebab anon ;)

as you begin dating tendou once again, you realize why he had been so quiet from before and he’s petrified you’ll leave him. But maybe he was worried for nothing ;) As scared as you were when you first found out, you can’t help but overlook his psychotic tendencies due to the love you feel for him. Tendō may have just found the one for him ;) PT.2 ~ kebab anon ~ this has been stuck in my head for so long and I just wanted to send it in for whatever you want to do with it 😌 pls enjoy my fantasy (2/2)

Warnings: Yandere, Breaking and Entering

Tendou is...eccentric, to say the least. But maybe that’s why you like him so much, finding him genuinely interesting and authentic in a superficial city like Paris where everyone only cares about keeping up their appearances. He’s a perfect gentleman and boyfriend when it comes to you and you blush when he comes over bringing chocolate he’s made just for you, flavors and decorations inspired by the moments you two share together. And you giggle as he randomly breaks out into little dances and songs he makes up on the spot. 

But as time goes on, you can’t help but feel that there’s a wall up between the two of you that he won’t tear down. And you can’t ignore the hurt you feel every time he shuts down when you ask about his past, about Japan, about a random photo you had seen of him in a sports jersey with a head full of red hair. 

You try to be patient, try to be understanding. The two of you haven’t dated for that long. Maybe he just needs some more time. But time goes on and on and months later, you tearfully end things, telling him you can’t be in a committed relationship with someone who keeps on holding you at arms length away from them. 

It hurts being alone, not having the cheerful and vibrant energy in your small kitchen. Store bought chocolate tastes like chalk and your heart aches as you pass by dessert shops as you walk the streets of Paris. You purposefully make a roundabout detour to avoid passing by the specific chocolate specialty shop he works in. You catch yourself humming silly little nonsensical tunes and waving your index fingers side to side when you’re by yourself. 

It hurts, but you tell yourself time is on your side, that you’ll learn to live without him. And it works. Memory of his face fading more and more as days pass, weeks pass. 

You’re in the middle of a fitful sleep, tossing and turning, waking up with a gasp, but you freeze at the familiar face peering down at you from the side of your bed. 

“Sa-Satori?”

You wonder if it’s a dream. (It wouldn’t be the first time you’d seen his face in your mind late at night.) But his presence is too real, the warmth of his body too tangible for you to truly believe that as he seats himself on the edge of your mattress. 

You’re stunned by how nonchalant he is as he just jumps into a normal conversation, telling you about his day, acting as if he hadn’t broken into your apartment, acting as if this isn’t the first time you’re seeing him in months. You’re even more stunned by how calm you are, how accepting you are of the situation, how easy it is to just pretend that nothing’s changed between the two of you.

But once the initial shock wears off, you silence him by tentatively holding one of his hand in yours. 

“Satori, what are you doing here? You can’t just break into my apartment. We’re not dating anymore.” 

“But you still love me, right?”

You gape at his beaming face, but you don’t move to retract your hand and that’s all the encouragement he needs to firmly hold both your hands in his. 

“I- Yes? But, Satori! That’s besides the point!”

You’re silenced by his next words. 

“I promise to tell you everything and anything you want about me. That’s the only reason you ended things, right? Right? Right? Right? I still love you. Please! Give me one more chance.”

How can you say no when wide eyes are longingly and imploringly staring at you? 

How can you say no when he still make your heart flutter and your chest warm just by being beside you? 

So you let him pull you in his lap, let wiry arms cradle you as he tells you about his past, trying not to tense up or let him feel how your pulse is racing, trying to stay still and hide your unease and nausea as he tells you exactly why he had been nicknamed a “monster” throughout his entire life. 

But Tendou has always been attentive, especially when it comes to you and you panic when you feel his arms hesitantly droop, body pulling away from yours, eyes full of pain, but acceptance that you’ll leave him, shun him, turn your back on him like everyone else in his life. 

And you don’t want that, can’t have that. Not when he’s laid his heart bare to you, knowing that it was more than likely that you’d leave him after knowing everything. Not when you’d been the one to selfishly force him to reveal his vulnerability to you, despite how much it must have hurt to relive those moments and reveal every bone of the numerous skeletons hidden in his closet. 

So despite the emergency signals flaring inside of you, despite the loud ringing of the warning bells in your head, you desperately hold him tight, telling him, promising him that you’re not going anywhere. 

After all, he loves you. He’d never do anything to you. 

Right?

[aalissy]

Blue-bell eyes

Day 8 is doneee!! And it’s my first reveal for Ladrien yayaya!! I hope you guys enjoy ittt!! There’s also a tinnyyyy bit of Adrienette so I also hope you don’t mind haha. Lemme know what you think <3

AO3

Adrien was currently facing a dilemma. One that centered around a pair of bright, blue-bell eyes. Well, more like two pairs of blue-bell eyes. That was the issue that he was currently facing. He had always assumed that it was only his lady that held those particularly beautiful, shining blue eyes. Now, though, he couldn’t keep his mind off of another pair of eyes whenever he looked at her. 

For some odd reason, he kept seeing Marinette’s eyes in Ladybug’s. Adrien felt like he was going crazy. There was no reason for him to see one of his best friend’s eyes when he was staring at his lady. Even worse, he was currently sitting right next to her as they watched a show together. Adrien shot another glance at her out of the corner of his eyes, sneaking a peek at her eyes. Yep, he was still going crazy. Unable to stop himself, he heaved out another loud sigh, drumming his fingers on his lap.

Ladybug must have heard him, though, because a frown creased her brow. Quickly, she pulled the remote over to her, pausing the show as she glared over at him. He widened his eyes in shock, making a noise of confusion as he turned to meet her angry gaze. 

“Why did you do that?” Adrien asked, gesturing at the television.

“Because that’s the fifth sigh you’ve had in the past two minutes,” she threw her arms up in exasperation. “Is something wrong Adrien? Are you alright?”

Ladybug’s blue eyes peered at him with such concern and worry that was just so familiar. He flinched back, pinching himself as he tried to stop the feeling that that was Marinette looking back at him.

She also leaned back in horror, her eyes widening as she placed a hand on her chest. “Oh my god, is it me?! Am I what’s bothering you?! Do you want me to go?”

Adrien winced as Ladybug scrambled up, banging her leg against his small table. She then began to stammer out apologies, “I’m so, so forry! I-I mean sorry! I-I know didn’t! I mean I didn’t know!”

 He choked on air as he watched her stammer and stutter on her words. Once again, that brush of familiarity struck him. It was almost impossible for him to not see Marinette peering back at him in Ladybug’s mask. Shaking his head, Adrien stood up as well. There was no time to focus on that because Ladybug had gotten the worst idea stuck in her head. Quickly, he reached out, grasping her hand in his tightly. He gave it a soft squeeze before staring at her imploringly. “That’s not it at all, Ladybug. This isn’t your fault. If anything... it’s mine.”

Her brow creased with another frown but her other hand slowly dropped her yo-yo back to her hip. “What do you mean... your fault?”

A pink blush lit up his cheeks and Adrien sank down onto the couch with a groan, covering his face with his hands. He heard Ladybug sit down next to him and then felt her hand rub against his back gently. Slowly, he removed his hands and met her gaze once again. Quietly, he mumbled, “I keep seeing my best friend whenever I look at you.”

Her mouth fell open adorably before she gave him a small, shy smile. “Is that really so bad?”

“You don’t understand,” Adrien said sadly, shaking his head. “I’m seeing my best friend when I look at you.”

Ladybug blinked in confusion before her tinkling laugh filled the room. She raised an eyebrow at him before asking with amusement clear in her voice, “You think I look like Nino?”

“What? No!” he stared at her in shock before chuckling himself. “No, I don’t think you look like Nino. I think you look like my other best friend.”

She tilted her head at him curiously. “Who’s that?”

“Well, it’s your eyes,” Adrien started, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “They just really remind me of my classmate’s. T-they look a lot like, um, Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s...”

 “What?!” Ladybug screeched, jumping to her feet as she banged her leg against his table once again. She winced, rubbing the tender spot before chuckling nervously. “I-I mean, uh... who?”

He slowly raised an eyebrow at her curiously. Crossing his arms across his chest, he asked skeptically, “You know Nino but you don’t know Marinette?”

“U-uh, Marinette, no. I-I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting her.” Her eyes darted from side to side as she shifted uncomfortably.

Well, now that was a blatant lie. He knew for certain that Ladybug and Marinette knew each other. Quite well, in fact, because she had given the girl a miraculous. And there was that time she assigned Chat Noir to watch over her. So... why would she lie? It made no sense. Unless...

No, Adrien thought, shoving aside the idea as quickly as it had come. He would never be that lucky. And, besides, he had already seen the two of them together when Marinette had been Multimouse. He still couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling, though. Slowly, he stood up, watching as Ladybug’s eyes followed his movements anxiously. 

“Really? You know Nino but not Marinette?”

Once again, her eyes skittered away from him. “Yep!” Ladybug said with fake cheer. “S-she, um, sounds like a lovely lady, though. F-from the way that you talk about her I mean.”

Adrien sucked in a deep breath, wondering if this was going to be either the stupidest thing he had ever done... or the smartest. Clearing his throat, he asked, “So, Marinette isn’t Multimouse, then?”

Her head whipped back around to face him. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned him up and down. “How did you...?”

Ladybug’s words trailed off before she gasped, slapping a palm to her mouth as she stared at him in horror. Slowly, she removed her hand to murmur one, quiet, little word, “Kitty?”

“Hello, m’lady,” Adrien bowed with a bright grin on his face. When he leaned back up, he spoke with a smirk, “Or should I say Marinette?”

She choked on air lightly, her blue-bell eyes getting even larger as she gazed at him. Eventually, she muttered, “B-but... how did you know?”

“Just like I said,” Adrien chuckled, gesturing to her face as he gave her a mischievous look. “Your eyes gave you away.”

Ladybug squeaked and the next thing he knew, her lips were on his. His eyes widened in shock before they fluttered closed, holding her tightly to him as fought to keep this kiss in his memory. He was not about to forget this. It was too important. 

After a few moments, she pulled away, murmuring with a pair of swollen lips, “Was that okay?”

“That was just perfect, m’lady.” Adrien beamed down at her before cupping her cheek, connecting their lips together once again. He had definitely been right before. That was the smartest thing he had ever done.

[astudyinfreewill]

dear adambra, can u spare a chainsaw & adam bonding time with a pinch (heh) of ronan pining for this trying times 😔👊

vila!!! 💕sorry it took me so long but i finally got around to this. i hope you like it! 😚 (and anon – i hope you don’t mind that i joined these two prompts!! 💞)

this and more i sat divining

1.3k, fluff, (sort-of-mutual) pining, pre-relationship (takes place before trk)

read on ao3

The thing of it was, Ronan thought glumly, that Chainsaw was a filthy little traitor.

It was hard enough to stop himself from spilling all of his secrets in front of Parrish; he didn’t need his psychopomp – one of his own secrets! – to expose him like this.

Ronan had spent a long time trying to hide the truth of his feelings from himself. He had done this by keeping them mired in self-loathing and buried under self-destructiveness. But something had changed over the summer.

Why do you hate yourself?

I don’t.

And he didn’t, not anymore. Not much, anyway. There were good days and bad days; but the important thing was that once that wall had crumbled – once Ronan had started loving himself again – he’d cautiously dared to reach out to the rest of his feelings, including the ones he felt for a certain over-tired, stubborn, car-fixing, uncanny, beautiful-handed magician.

The problem was that once he’d started – once he’d thrown open the floodgates – he’d been unable to stop feeling those feelings. Ronan now lived in fear that one word too much would give him away, reveal his innermost desires, gushing out of him like a volcanic eruption. Adam probably knew, anyway. He was clever like that. Ronan thought he knew, at least – there was something different, weighted, in the looks he sometimes cast Ronan’s way – but if he did, he hadn’t said anything about it, whether to acknowledge Ronan’s feelings or reject them.

Ronan could tell him. But he didn’t know what it would do to their friendship. And it turned out, now that he was no longer consumed with jealousy over Gansey or trying hard to choke down his own shameful, fearful feelings, he quite enjoyed being Adam’s friend. He didn’t want to ruin it all on a chance. So he kept quiet; he hoped and waited and watched (literally – he looked at Adam quite a bit, more than before, probably more than was wise).

Which would be far, far easier to do without a certain feathered traitor.

Because as Ronan’s luck would have it, Chainsaw fucking loved Adam Parrish.

Right now, for instance, she was perched on Adam’s shoulder with a startling gentleness, one she didn’t even display for her own creator, if Ronan’s constantly scratched shoulders were anything to go by. Well. He supposed wearing tank tops didn’t help, but still. You could just see Chainsaw holding her body primly so she wouldn’t weigh down Adam too much. Damned ass-kissing bird.

Right now, she was staring adoringly at Adam as he tried to eat a truly pathetically thin peanut butter sandwich without jostling her too much. Ronan could tell because he was also staring from across the cramped St. Agnes attic (no, not adoringly, fuck you very much).

…Okay, maybe a little adoringly.

Chainsaw hopped down from Adam’s shoulder to land on his forearm. She cocked her head imploringly, black eyes fixed on the sandwich. “Kreker?” she asked shamelessly. Ronan could have smacked her - or himself. He hadn’t spent hours trying to teach her to speak just so she could try and steal Parrish’s sad excuse for a dinner.

“No, not a cracker,” Adam replied, seriously, as if he was holding a conversation with an actual person. He paused for a moment, as if he was looking for a term that a corvid could replicate more easily than peanut butter sandwich.

“Snack,” he landed on eventually, waving the sandwich a little as Chainsaw followed it avidly. “It’s a snack.”

Chainsaw flapped her wings once, then cocked her head to the opposite side. “Snack,” she barked.

Well, Ronan thought. I’ll be fucked.

“Clever girl!” Adam praised, kind of in the same tone he used whenever Gansey demonstrated that he’d retained a fact about car engines. He tore off a corner of his sandwich – with some difficulty, since he still had a very hefty raven pinning his arm down – and offered it to Chainsaw, who gobbled it up greedily.

“Hey, shitbird! That’s not yours. Leave Parrish’s sandwich alone,” Ronan called out across the room. Leave Parrish alone, he wanted to add. Stop acting like all you want is to be near him. This was a dangerous game to play. Adam knew Chainsaw was dreamt. He knew about how the night horrors, his deadlier-looking dream creatures, only ever wanted what Ronan wanted. He knew Ronan looked at him more than a friend should. He was observant, and he was smart. It was only a matter of time before he connected the dots. If he hasn’t already, Ronan thought with some unease, glaring at Chainsaw as he nervously bit on the leather bands at his wrist. Seriously, just stop.

Chainsaw blatantly ignored him.

“It’s alright,” Adam said, looking back at Chainsaw. Which meant he had been looking at Ronan just now. Possibly. Maybe. “I don’t mind,” he added, tearing off another piece of bread and feeding it to the raven. There was a small smile playing about his lips, amused and almost fond – like he was enjoying Chainsaw’s proximity and attention, even if it was coming at the expense of his food.

Chainsaw chirped happily – since when did ravens chirp, anyway?! – and flapped herself back up to Adam’s shoulder, hopping closer to his head this time. Most people would be a little nervous having a huge-ass bird with an extremely sharp beak that close to their face, but Adam only held himself still, waiting, his head tilted a little to the side. Chainsaw took that opportunity to nestle into the crook of his neck and puff up contentedly.

Oh my God, are you fucking kidding me, Ronan thought furiously. He thought he could feel a blush creeping up his own neck.

He wanted badly to call Chainsaw back – assuming she would even obey – but he couldn’t bring himself to do it when Adam looked so genuinely pleased, like any and all affectionate physical contact was surprising and delightful.

“Atom.”

There was a moment of silence in the room.

“Did she just say my name?”, Adam asked.

“Not sure,” Ronan lied, studiously staring at the raven  – glaring at the raven – and not Adam.

“Yeah, she did. She said ‘Adam’.”

Ronan made an ‘eh’ face. “I think it was more like ‘atom’.”

Adam shot him an unimpressed look. “I doubt your raven is interested in molecular science.” He carefully put down his sandwich and reached up to gently pet Chainsaw, using one long index finger to stroke down the soft feathers around her beak. “Even though she is very clever. Good girl!”

“Atom!” Chainsaw crowed again. The word wasn’t any clearer but the way she rubbed her head into Adam’s jaw made the meaning very apparent.

Adam looked at Ronan with a little triumphant smirk. Ronan rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, Parrish. Here, you little bastard. Let Parrish finish his food.”

Chainsaw flapped her wings in discontent. “Atom snack?” she asked balefully.

“No,” Ronan said firmly. “Enough ‘snack’ for you.”

Even as he was still speaking, Adam replied, to Chainsaw, “Yes, Adam is gonna eat a snack. Clever girl. Good bird. Are you gonna let me finish it?”

Chainsaw barked once at him, but not unkindly, before flying the short distance over to Ronan’s outstretched arm.

Ronan glared at her for a few moments, then turned his glare on Adam.

“You’re undermining my parenting,” he accused.

“Well she has to learn manners somewhere,” Adam replied around a mouthful of sandwich.

“Hilarious,” Ronan muttered, stroking Chainsaw’s head, absently tracing the same path Adam’s finger had. She tucked her head in contentedly, as if allowing him to pet her was a conciliatory gesture on her part. She was still staring at Adam as he wolfed down the sandwich.

Well, fuck. This was going to be a problem.

[sopewriters]

Mιɳԃ Gαɱҽʂ | 01

Summary: With a murderer prowling the streets, and a charming villain on the loose, all bets are off.

Pairing: Jaehhyun X Reader; Hero x Villain AU

Word Count: 4.9K

Warning(s): None yet.

“Run the tape again.”

The screen flickers dimly, lighting up your gaunt features. Every part of you screams of exhaustion, as it should – you’ve hardly gotten any sleep all night. Your fingers tap against the desk in front of you, restless, and it takes everything in you not to bounce your leg.

The man beside you – your partner – looks at your tense jaw, pursed lips, and frowns. “You can take a break for tonight, you know. I doubt they’ll come back so soon.”

“But you don’t know that.” You correct harshly, making him recoil. Guilt stabs at you, and you sigh. “Sorry, I… I’m sorry Mark, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

Mark smiles at you, and you only now notice the pallor of his cheeks, the shadows under his eyes. Your partner hasn’t gotten anymore sleep than you have. With a large, cracking yawn that could probably split a lesser man’s face open, you shake your head.

The protest – or lack, thereof – building on Mark’s lips immediately dies, and he exhales heavily.

“This guy is unreal.” He comments, dropping back into his seat beside you. “How does he avoid the cameras so well? They were even set up so no one would be able to dodge them – is this his Gift, do you think?”

You cast a wry glance at him, then. “No, Mark, we both know for a fact that his Gift isn’t invisibility. Remember the one time he made some sort of illusion to throw the cops off his trail?”

“Ah, right.” Something like awe passes quickly over his face, though he’s careful to school his expression at your chiding glance. “I forgot.”

“Funny, you were gushing about how wicked Joker was for weeks.” You nudge him lightly, a tiny grin on your lips – probably for the first time tonight. “It was cute.”

His cheeks immediately flush – adorable – and you wish there were better lighting so you could see them better.

Unfortunately, being a superpowered vigilante can really cast a wrench in your budget. Not everyone can be a millionaire-cum-superhero, no matter how much they’d love to be. And balancing the criminal nightlife with your actual life… well. University has always been particularly unforgiving.

“______…” He grouses, burying his face in his palms as you laugh. “Why’re you always so mean to me?”

“You just make it really easy.”

“ ______!”

“What? Am I wrong?”

Mark huffs out a breath, pushing away from the desk and standing up to flick on the light. “I’m not even gonna bother. I know you aren’t going to drop it!”

“You’re – oh my fucking god, turn the lights back off!” The measly light you do have is still blinding, making your head almost ache from how bright they are. “Mark!”

“Oh, how the tables have turned.” He laughs, dodging one of your well-timed swipes. “Alright, I’m going to jet before you actually manage to hit me again. Please try and get some rest? We’ll go over this again tomorrow.”

He looks at you imploringly.

You laugh fakely. “Oh, yeah, of course!”

Mark sighs, resigned, and gives you a waning smile as he moves to leave. He pauses, briefly. “We should really find a new HQ.”

You look around at your converted closet, thinking he’s not wrong. But, again, life isn’t quite like the movies and you don’t really have the money to spare on much beyond your daily necessities. Frozen food isn’t quite as cheap as it used to be around these parts. If anything, you’re lucky you have a walk-in closet large enough to accommodate a small desk, especially in your dorm.

Going to an expensive college in a rich part of town does have some benefits even if, tuition aside, you’re financially on your own.

“We’ll see,” you mumble tiredly, head thumping softly against said desk. “You know how tight our budget is.”

“Yeah, I do.” Mark looks apologetic, giving you a quick wave before he’s stepping out, likely heading back to his own room.

Now that he’s gone, though, your place is entirely too quiet, and it really puts you on edge. At least Mark turned the light on, earlier – you might as well credit him for that – so it’s not as creepy as it could be. But still.

You turn back to the monitor, mouth pursing into a frown as you watch the slight flicker of shadows – the criminal’s only trail. Something about this guy doesn’t seem all that right, and it’s seriously making you paranoid. You’ve never interacted with him, though – that, as it seems, only really happens to the licensed superheroes in your sector – but there’s just something about him…

You turn off the monitor with a sigh, wondering why on earth you’ve stupidly chosen to deal with this guy, of all people. You ignore the little niggling in the back of your mind that tells you that you’re really just trying to put off real-life responsibilities by taking unnecessary tasks upon yourself; that’s totally not true, no. What – why would anyone think that?!

You duck your head out of your closet, tentatively stepping out into your actual room. There isn’t much in there; just your bed, a cabinet for your papers and files, and a dresser in which your clothes actually go. Most of the place is just free space, honestly, and you could have your whole hero setup here, but… secrecy is important. And your closet is a lot more private than your room itself, for obvious reasons.

“ ______ !!” The door slams open, and your enraged best friend storms inside.

Case in point.

“Hey, F/N…” You say awkwardly, leaning against your bed so you can look at her fuming face. “Um. Fancy seeing you here?”

“Why aren’t you in bed?” She pinches the bridge of her nose, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips. “It’s almost midnight!”

“Why aren’t you asleep?” You counter, eyes catching onto her mussed hair, puffy eyes. “I was so quiet; how could I possibly have—?”

“Mark.” She says simply, to which you inwardly groan. Of course. Mark “Clumsy” Lee lives up to his name, yet again. “Are you sure you two aren’t dating? He’s been over for whole nights before.”

“What, are girls and guys not allowed to spend the night without dating or screwing around?” You snap defensively. Too defensively, judging by the smirk forming on her face. “No. No, no, no. Whatever bullshit you’re going to spew at me right now, save it, because I sure as hell won’t like it.”

“I’m just saying, denial isn’t just a river in Egypt,” she sings, ducking to narrowly avoid a pillow projectile. “It’s not a big deal! Mark’s super cute.”

“And you can have him.” You mutter in response, shuddering at the thought of dating him. Being in close quarters has really educated you to some of his more… quirky habits, and you couldn’t ever deal with that on a permanent basis. Plus, he’s not really your type.

F/N just rolls her eyes at you. “Whatever, pretend all you want. I know the truth though.”

“Is there something you actually need?” You level her with a flat stare. “Or are you just trying to snoop in on me?”

She smiles guiltily, like the guilty person she is. It might as well be branded on her forehead, G-U-I-L-T-Y, and you really hope she trips over one of her stupid pencils and stumbles down to hell.

What? You can be petty if you want to be, and it’s all in your head anyway. No one will ever know.

“No, there’s nothing important.” She assures you, though you really don’t need her assurance. “I just… worry about you sometimes, you know?”

“Well gee, thanks for making my night a whole lot better with that vote of confidence.” You mutter, sarcastic as ever, though your subsequent words die on your tongue at her sharp look.

“Relax, you know I didn’t mean it like that. I just wanted to know if you were going to go to bed, or if you couldn’t sleep or something.” She shrugs. “I’m being rebellious and staying up past my bedtime.”

Well.

You grin sharply at that. Maybe she can stay in the land of the living for a little longer. You take back everything you thought just a few moments ago. “Oh, have I been waiting for this day.”

So. Staying up last night was possibly the worst decision you’ve ever made. Your eyes feel like they might just pop out of their sockets any moment now and the only thing that could possibly make this better is a good cup of coffee. Or, even better, two.

But life, as always, is cruel.

“I hate you.” You mutter at your coffee pot, squinting angrily at it through stinging eyes. “You had one fucking job.”

Yep. The coffee pot, as fate would have it, has completely broken down – just to deprive you of your life, of course, no big deal. Who even needs to be awake for their 8AM discussion anyway, right?

“Stupid, useless hunk of garbage, I should just melt you down already.” Your fevered death chant follows you all the way to the front door as you sling your backpack over your shoulder. It stops there, though, because you’re too tired to keep it up.

F/N’s lucky she doesn’t have to wake up early today, and you angrily curse her in your head because goodwill? It’s all gone now. Maybe she’ll get a really bad case of the Hiccups. Maybe it’ll be terminal Hiccups.

You cringe at your own deviousness.

You manage to bike all the way to class without perishing which, in your books, deserves a gold star. You don’t know how you’ve done it, but you’ve somehow managed to not get hit by a car, or a bus, or a truck, or another bike, or a pedestrian (though you wouldn’t really mind that last option. People really need to stop looking at their phones while they walk, holy shit). It’s a miracle, truly.

Maybe it’s because you’ve got to attend a Classics discussion; shockingly, it’s one of your more bearable classes. Scratch that, it’s possibly one of your favorites. You might be a STEM major, but the way they discuss mythology in this class really gets to you.

And, of course, there’s your TA too. He’s probably one of the kindest, sweetest people you know – and that’s saying something, given that you know Mark and are even acquainted with Wong Yukhei, the Student Council VP. No, you don’t know how that happened and, frankly, don’t care to find out either.

“Hey there, ______.” You look up at the sound of your name, seeing your TA cock his head at you a little quizzically. “You okay? You seem a little out of breath.”

Yeah, it’s no big, I practically just pulled an all-nighter and biked all the way here using the mothballs that are my eyes, with the level of coffee running through my bloodstream hitting a critical low. It’s fine, it’s totally fine! And if you weren’t the unobservant piece of crap, sweetheart you are, I’d feel a hell of a lot better—

“I’m fine.” You make an effort not to let your gasps for air grow too obvious, giving him a strained smile. “I just, um – just biked here.”

“Ah, I see. You can come inside, you know, sit down.” He holds the door wide open for you, letting you slip inside. “Do you have water? Would you like me to get you some?”

He gives you an appraising look. “Though, something tells me you need something stronger? Coffee, maybe?”

He holds up a thermos, shaking it gently with a questioning look on his face; and, on cue, your mouth begins to water. You need it. You must have it.

“What gave it away?” You chuckle weakly, before shaking your head. “No thanks, Jungwoo, but I appreciate it.”

You last remaining braincells cry, extremely sorry for your loss.

Jungwoo sighs, “I don’t mind sharing, ______, trust me. I promise I didn’t poison it or anything, and I won’t give you much – just a tiny cup.”

He pours some out into the cap of his flask, offering it to you. You stare at the beautifully crafted drink of perfection, steam gently curling off it, and wonder if Kim Jungwoo is a god. He must be, with this sort of impeccable timing.

Still, you’d feel a little awkward taking a drink from a TA that you actually don’t know all that well. That… might not be a good idea.

“I’m really fine.” You smile tightly at him. “I promise. Thank you, though.”

But why?! your brain cells demand, and you don’t have a satisfactory answer for them.

“If you’re sure.” He shrugs it off easily, smile never dimming. He’s pretty cute when he smiles – basically, all the time – but he isn’t really your type.

You think back to the crush you used to harbor on Yukhei. Your cheeks burn when you remember that you still find your gaze fixed to his long, slender fingers on more than one occasion – but you can’t help that. He’s just… too much. It’s unfair, really. But yeah, that’s your type. Tall and handsome, and unfair.

Great, and now you’re thinking about Jung Jaehyun.

You settle back into your desk and will your blush away as you begin pulling out a notebook and a pencil. You don’t usually take notes during section – not unless you’ve got some big essay coming up that he’d review in class – but it gives you something to do instead of just sitting idle.

You quickly sneak a peek at Jungwoo and, seeing that he’s preoccupied leafing through some of his notes, play a game of Catch the Pen. You locate the nearest shadow and guide your pencil through it, propelling it with enough of a velocity for it to hurtle out of another shadow to nestle comfortably between your fingers. It’s basically like playing catch with yourself.

And yeah, it got boring after the third or fourth time, but your only other option is using your phone, which – hey, not a bad idea. A quick scroll through your social media has you holding back your coos when you see videos of cute puppies attempting to do even cuter things. God, do you love dogs.

It’s only when Jungwoo raps his fist against his desk – a cue for all of you to start paying attention – that you notice that the empty desks from before have all been filled up. You quickly stash your phone in your back pocket, before leaning forward on your desk, settling your cheek in the palm of your hand as you force yourself to pay attention.

Ah, damn it. Your eyes still sting.

“Good morning guys!” Jungwoo beams at you, entirely too cheery for your tastes, given that it’s eight in the fucking morning. “How were your weekends?”

Your mind flashes back to your weekend, and you suppress a wince. Yeah. That was… not a good time, especially for the vigilante Caligo – for you. After getting your ass pummeled by a random guy in a mask – a random guy who you think just might be Joker, thief extraordinaire, and the person who you were watching through the footage last night – you weren’t really having a great time.

Not to mention your purpled cheek, courtesy of a deck to the face. You bruise like a peach and you’re really fucking lucky that F/N has a healing ability and a penchant to not ask difficult questions. She probably thinks you’re getting caught up in some shady business – drugs, maybe? – and honestly, that wouldn’t be too far from the truth, if a little exaggerated.

Jungwoo, luckily, takes the grumbled mutterings from the rest of your class that perfectly encapsulate your weekend experience in stride, beaming excitedly and holding up a faded copy of the translation of Ovid’s The Fall of Icarus. “Well, nothing better than this to turn that around, yeah?”

You hold back a sigh as you flip to the page he’ll inevitably bring up. You’d rather read about Icarus, who the book’s title deceptively alludes to, than the rest of these short stories. But, well. As life would have it—

“Let’s talk about what happened with Theseus and the Minotaur, shall we?”

A part of you is grateful that you’ve managed to survive most of your day, and it’s really only the thought of going to your chem lab that makes you perk up.

Now, don’t be misled; you still hate having to go to lab. The actual practice, in itself, isn’t all that hard, but the fact that you have to do it at all is just so ugh. Frankly, you’re only going because it’s required for your major, because fuck chemistry, and doubly fuck organic chemistry. It’s all just way too stressful.

But, well, back to the main point: lab is only really fun because you get a whole two and a half hours to fully appreciate some A+ eye-candy. Not that you would ever actually want to objectify him that way, but your TA is just so gorgeous that it’s unfair, really. Just a smile from him could have you tripping over your feet and potentially spilling dangerous chemicals all over yourself.

As it is, you’ve managed to survive so far, if only to irritate F/N with your very accurate description of how sharp his jawline is, how his dimple is to die for, how he just looks so dependable and warm and—

“Hey Jaehyun.” You greet him as you wait outside the lab. No one’s really allowed in until your TA – Jaehyun, basically – lets you.

Jung Jaehyun, AKA “God who has literally descended from the Heavens to bless your undeserving soul”, smiles at you and – aw, yeah, there it is. That fucking dimple. Paired with his soft, unassuming smile, and the reassuring warmth of his eyes as they look at you through the soft fringe of his hair—

Deadly. That’s what he is.

“Hey ______, how’s it going?” He greets cheerily, not unlike Jungwoo earlier. The only difference is that it’s actually a humane hour of the day right now; a little past noon as opposed to oh, you know, the crack of dawn. You still hate any and all sunlight, no doubt about it – especially with the night lending itself to your element – but at least you’re somewhat awake now.

Jaehyun fiddles with the keyhole before pushing the door open. Is a lab coat supposed to look this good on a person? You aren’t sure.

“It’s pretty meh.” You offer him a shrug and what you hope is not a dorky smile. “Just stressed, you know.”

“Oh, I figured.” He nods, raising an eyebrow. “Apparently Professor Kim’s being super hard on you guys for this first midterm and, I won’t lie, with her past record…” Jaehyun winces. “Yeah, things might be a little stressful. But you’re capable, and I know you can do it with the right amount of hard work and effort.”

Then, like he hasn’t just sprung an unwarranted pep talk on what’s left of your dreary soul, he disappears behind the door. You stare at it like it’ll give you the answers racing through your mind; what the fuck, how the hell does he know exactly what to say, how the fuck is he always so gorgeous…? etcetera, etcetera.

Immediately, you pull out your phone and text F/N.

 You:

Oh my fucking god, I think Jaehyun and I just had a moment

Not like a Moment but he literally just gave me the best pep talk in my life, 5 stars on yelp

Jaehyun’s my TA btw

 Checking the time, you impatiently rock forward on the balls of your feet, biting at your lips. You figure that, maybe, instead of constantly thinking about how gorgeous Jaehyun is, you should probably also start thinking about the experiment for today. It’s just some simple identification tests, thank goodness, but those could take a long time – especially if you have to share your resources with the rest of the class.

Sharing is caring, they say and they’re wrong. Sharing, in most cases, is essentially just shooting yourself in the foot, and you’ll stand by that until the end of time. You used to share everything – even your heart – after all, and where did that get you?

You shove all of that away, filing it into the mental Untouchable cabinet and locking it up. You’re a busy person now, and you can’t waste time delving into the past. For all your bravado and bluster, though, you just… sometimes feel like you always make the worst decisions for yourself and you’re just tired of having to put yourself through the same things again and again. Like – like clockwork.

The door cracks open, and Jaehyun pokes his head outside. “Huh, that’s weird. No one else is here yet?”

A quick glance around you shows you that no, there really isn’t anyone else here yet. What the fuck? You check your phone, though, and see you still have ten minutes before lab actually begins. Ah, yeah, that makes a lot more sense now.

“You can come in anyway.” Jaehyun grins at you charmingly, and you dimly wonder if he knows the effect he has on people, with how easily he throws that smile around. “Maybe get set up? You can’t start before the rest of your class is here, obviously, but you can still be prepared.”

“Of course!” You beam at him, a little shocked at how easy it is to smile at him. With how things have been going, with both your personal life and – ehem – line of work, this is actually nothing short of a miracle.

Jaehyun really is a great guy and you think to yourself, a little sadly, that whoever gets to date him is a really lucky person. It’s not like you expect for life to work out like a fairytale with you as the persevering royal protagonist who gets the prince she’s only ever dreamed of.

Oh, you wish though. Sometimes, you even wish you had the power to make wishes come true instead of the shadow manipulation that comes so easily to you. When you think about it, you immediately discard the thought; you’re happy with your Gift, though it does get a little tricky navigating its faults.

Faults that Joker took advantage of over the weekend, obviously. You seriously screwed that one up though, to be fair, you kind of had to get home pronto to finish up your biology lab report. Still, a screw up is, ultimately, a screw up. It’s not going to change just because you slapped some excuses onto it.

Your fingers spasm, clenching tightly around your lab notebook and digging into its spiral binding as you remember, all too vividly, what happened over the weekend; the way Joker just slid out of your bindings and smirked at you, lips brushing against your ear as he revealed it was all a lie—

The spiking pain in your hand forces you to let go of your book, allowing it to drop onto the table with a muffled thump. It was all your fault, really, for not realizing that, since Joker had a Gift that allowed him to make illusions, he would obviously take advantage of it to distract you.

You were such a fucking idiot.

“Hey.” Your lab partner slides into the seat beside yours, effectively distracting you from thinking about your Weekend Failure some more. “Please tell me that I’m not the only one who thinks that the data for this lab report was ridiculous.”

“You’re not.” A light smile pulls at your lips and you try to forget about everything else. “It was pretty crazy.”

It’s not until you step out of lab a few hours later, blinking the sun out of your eyes, that you see that F/N’s finally responded to your texts.

 Wifey!! <3:

i’m glad he was so kind to you!

and yeah babe, i think you’d realize i know who Jaehyun is by now

you’ve only mentioned him a billion times

you’re such a puppy

You:

He was really nice man, he made me feel like I could actually do this

I mean idk how long it’ll last but it’s nice of him to even try ;-;

And I think you’d realize I know I’m a puppy by now

You’ve only told me, like, a billion times

 Let it be said that you’re never one to let the opportunity to be petty go to waste.

A week later, you’re sprinting up the street between your favorite Thai place and the café F/N likes to frequent, short puffs of breath escaping your lungs into the cold night air. Your worn sneakers slap against the concrete as you try to find a secluded location for you to change covertly into more appropriate ‘crime-fighting’ clothing, when your frantic gaze lands on a relatively abandoned alleyway.

Key word: ‘relatively’, because there’s really only a cat in there, of course.

“Fuck yeah!” You whisper triumphantly under your breath, stepping into the shadows cast by the nightlights, letting their familiar chill wash over you, twist its way around your waist and seep under your skin, a comfortable, cool pressure—

And you’re out again, a couple of blocks ahead of where you started, and sprint up the street, jumping shadows to the second floor of a building, from where you see figure flying overhead.

You smirk. Right on time.

“Hey! Mind giving me a lift?!” You holler up, and with a flick of his wrist, you’re being lifted off your feet, propelled to the very top of the building. A grin pulls at the corner of your mouth, and you give in as you zip along after the figure ahead, who’s dressed in dark blue. “Thanks G!”

Gravitas – Mark – spares a look at you through his mask as he runs ahead, leaping gracefully over to the next building. “Hey Caligo!”

A grin pulls at the corner of your lips through your own mask, fully visible since it only extends to the bridge of your nose. He wants to play it like that, does he?

“Impressive, but you’ve got nothing on me!” You arch in a graceful backflip over the gap between the buildings, landing steadily on your feet.

Mark chuckles lightly at you, shaking his head when you skip ahead of him through the shadows. Like you aren’t going to wring out every advantage your Gift could possibly give you; there’s no way you’re letting him have the satisfaction of possibly being better than you.

“See anyone we need to beat up?” You slow your pace enough for him to run beside you, not needing to shout to be heard.

Mark’s mask covers his entire face, but you’re pretty sure you know the look he’s got on his face right now; that little dip between his eyebrows and the lightest pout on his lips. He’s really too predictable.

“We aren’t looking for people to beat up.” He corrects you. “We’re looking for people to save.”

You come to a stop so you can face him properly, hands settling on your hips. The seriousness of the situation doesn’t stop you from keeping the playfulness from your voice, though, forced as it might sound.

“Now that’s the mind of a future hero-in-the-making.” You shrug, mouth pursing into a tense smile. “The rest of us don’t really care so much about that, you know.”

Mark falters, nearly tripping over himself even though he’s slowed to a walk. “That isn’t what I was trying to imply, you know that.”

“I know.” You provide him with another half-shrug. “I’m just saying that I’m here to beat people up; you can call it saving people or whatever else satisfies your hero-complex but, at the end of the day, someone’s still getting beat.”

No matter how close the two of you are, this is an age old argument that neither of you have been able to shake off; the constant debate of vigilantism versus heroism. At the end of the day, you’re getting the same things done, so why Mark needs to get so prickly about it is beyond you.

He is training to be a hero – which you’ve grudgingly accepted, despite your misgivings – so that might be it. Unlike you, he’s always interested in those caped fantasies, in saving the day and happy endings. Even he has to admit it; Mark is the definition of a happy fool.

And you? Well, that’d make you the tortured genius – though there’s nothing particularly genius about you. Just tortured.

“At the end of the day, we’re still saving people too.” Mark’s voice is low, brittle. “We’ve talked about this before.”

“And we’ve always ended it the same way.” You force yourself to keep your calm, though you itch to blow up at him. “So what makes this time so different?”

Mark starts forward, about to answer, only to be interrupted by a familiar voice. A very unwelcome voice.

“Hope I’m not interrupting!”

There’s a muffled thump, like someone’s landing on their feet, as you slowly turn around, eyes growing wide behind your mask.

Decked out in a tight-fitting leather bodysuit and a black choker, which delicately circles his neck, he looks at you with dancing, mischievous eyes. The black eye mask that sculpts itself to his face prevents you from being able figure out who the man behind the mask is, but that isn’t your priority right now, because you know who this is, standing in front of you with that cheeky grin.

“Joker.”

Written By: Midnight

The amazing moodboard was done by Sangria! Blessed that I am to have such a perfect wife <3

Next: 02

[turquoise-stones]

Attention Just From You

Tokoyami x fem!reader

Artist Link

A/N: Okay you know those self indulgent fics where the reader is hella beautiful and popular and everyone wants her? well this is it. you know why? Cause you’re hella beautiful and popular and everyone wants you ;)

. . .

"(Y/n), your hair looks lovely today." A voice of a general studies boy rang through your ears. His fingers rang softly through your locks as he walked past you, giving you a flirty wink before rounding be a corner, causing a blush to flush across your face.

"I-I, erm... u-uh, thanks!" You stuttered out, hiding your face in your hands as your friends both snickered and sympathized with you.

You were gorgeous, both inside and out. You had a stunning personality that easily singled you out as the flawless beauty of class 1-A. While you would never admit it, everyone had already accepted it as fact.

And of course, the compliments that came with such popularity was embarrassing but guaranteed. While those nice words would make you blush and feel happy inside, there was nothing that made you want to curl up and die more than flirting. The awkward way you had to reject many hopeful boys... it made you feel awful and guilty, but what could you do?

You never said yes, because your heart was already in the hands of a certain feathered hero.

His mysterious demeanor had instantly charmed you, and unlike the rest of the boys, he didn't try to win your heart with a lame pick up line. Instead, his deep thoughts and hidden caring personality truly made you fall for him.

If he asked you out, you would certainly say yes. But he never approached you, never complimented you. In that way, he stood out more than everyone else. It made you rather sad, but you would definitely hold on to the hope that he liked you back. You decided to never say yes to anyone else, and keep on waiting for him.

. . .

"(Y-y/n), can we plan a study session t-together?" Your nervous green headed classmate asked sweetly one day after class.

"O-oh well, I'm..." You quickly glanced over at Tokoyami, hoping he would take the chance to swiftly pull you aside. But he was just sitting there, seemingly staring at his book.

"Back off fucker, she obviously doesn't wanna hang out with a shrimp like you." A sudden booming voice sounded in your ear, causing you to wince as your explosive classmate appeared next to you, roughly tugging you to his side.

"B-bakugou! That's mea-" You whined, pushing him away a bit. Sadly, this was a daily occurrence, where the boys all seemed to try to tug you to their side.

"Watch your tongue Bakugou. (Y/n) shouldn't be exposed to such language." A smooth voice came. Relief washed through you. Finally, a voice of reason that didn't have flirting on his mind...

"Why don't you come home with me? I can take care of you, better than they can." He said imploringly, firmly tugging at your hand. You groaned inwardly, Todoroki you too?

The tugging and bantering continued, with you being pulled this way and that, the guys throwing insults and compliments towards you and the others.

It was all too much. Everyone in the class was staring. Sure, the boys in your class were all attractive and appealing in their own ways, but none of them was the boy who's attention you wanted the most.

In fact, Tokoyami was still sitting there, seemingly glaring at his book. Strangely, you noticed that he didn't seem to be flipping the pages. You sighed. Maybe there was a chance that he'll notice you tomorrow.

"I'm sorry Todoroki, I'm not inters-"

"Yeah, shut the fuck up half n' half, she's mine." Your cheeks burned at how direct they were being, as you tried to squirm out of Bakugou's death grip.

"W-wait Bakug-" you stuttered.

"Shut up and come with me." He growled, nipping at your ear, causing a small shriek and a flush of embarrassment to run through you. You glanced over at Tokoyami, he was glaring very intently at the commotion happening, not even trying to disguise his eavesdropping anymore.

"(Y-y/n), I know Kacchan interrupted you earlier but do you still want to go?" Midoriya piped up hopefully, only to meet the glares of the other boys.

Suddenly, the loud squeaking of a chair being pushed back was heard. At last, Tokoyami stood up and faced the gaggle of boys surrounding you. His arms were crossed and he gave off a murderous glare.

Meeting your gaze, he tilted his head towards the door, before swiftly walking out, Dark Shadow floating behind him. You stared after him, not really believing that he was actually paying attention to you, much less telling you to follow him. Glancing at the three boys around you, you wiggled out of their grasp.

"Listen... you're all attractive in your own ways... but I'm interested in someone else. I'm sorry, but I have somewhere to be!"

And with that, you turned on your heel and quickly walked out the door, away from the staring onlookers.

. . .

You found him around the corner, leaning coolly against the wall, black feathers looking striking against the white walls.

"W-well... I'm here..." you stuttered out, stopping in front of him with a light blush on your cheeks. You were never alone with him before. Dang it, you felt like a stupid girl from some shoujo manga. But that was simply the effect Tokoyami had on you, he made you all warm and gushy inside.

"I'm sure you know why we're out here," he said with a sigh as he pushed himself up. "I'm getting kind of tired of seeing you flocked by guys all the time."

Your eyes blinked at how straight up he was being. You had expected a couple poetic lines, but you had never seen him so serious before.

"O-oh... well, it just kinda happens, I guess..." you muttered, twiddling with your thumbs. It really wasn't your fault, and it took a lot of effort to tell them to go away.

"Why don't you just reject them? They say rejection makes people stronger, anyways." He frowned, clearly a little upset.

"I did! I told them no after you left..."

"You did?" He asked in surprise. "Actually, like once and for all?"

You nodded reassuringly. After he let it sink in, a smirk of victory crossed his face, a gleeful gleam in his eyes. You suddenly noticed how close he was getting towards you, his beak closer to your face than you had realized.

"Cause they would always chase me... but I never got attention from the guy I really wanted..." you said shyly, looking down as you tried to confess your feelings.

"He's very mysterious and I can't really tell how he feels about me." You mumbled out.

"I think he'd like you to know," Tokoyami said, quickly catching on to your game. "that he'd be really angry if he ever saw you with someone else."

Your cheeks flushed darkly. He placed his hands on your wrists, effectively keeping you in place to look you in the eyes. You realized, that all this time, Tokoyami had been watching them flirt with you, his jealous feelings slowly accumulating, until they finally overflowed today.

"Then tell him... that I'm waiting for his confession." You whispered.

A moment passed, as the two of you gazed at each other, taking in the other's features up close for once. And at last, he uttered those beautiful words.

"(Y/n), will you go out with me?"

You looked into his red eyes, bursts of happiness exploding in your chest as a wide smile split your face. You had waited forever for this moment, and you nodded excitedly. He squeezed your wrists a bit tighter.

"Say it..." he murmured. "I want to hear you say yes..."

Giving him a sincere smile, you planted a swift kiss on the side of his beak, giddy at how wonderful it felt.

"Of course I'll say yes to you!"

[starbuckie]

Just to get you to chill with the bucky fics (heheheheh) and because I haven't read any lately....one order of a Loki x Reader drabble. Anything you want, you know me and so, whatever comes to mind. Also, happy birthday, bro. ILY

geen geen the grandmaster, there is no such thing as too many bucky fics, it simply doesn’t exist, however i will do a loki drabble because i love my other greasy haired boi(if anyone knows what textpost that’s from i’ll love you forever and ever) btw this is the 2012 loki who escaped in endgame

-

“You are quite possibly the most despicable man I’ve ever met, Odinson.” Loki opened his eyes and looked up from the ground, meeting your steely eyes glaring right down at him. New York was a loud place, the “city that never sleeps” as the Midgardians called it, and he was finding a hard time going back to sleep when cars were honking everywhere. He was never very fond of it, but it was a bit difficult to go back to Asgard to retrieve his glory when he was in handcuffs.

He scoffed at your expression and words. “I’m a Laufeyson, Odin was never my father. Anyways, where exactly am I right now?”

“You’re on the Upper West Side, now that that’s answered, tell me how the hell you managed to escape from SHIELD, those poor people been on the search for you for three days.” You asked, a hint of annoyance in your voice. Unfortunately, you’d been one of poor people forced to look for him, but you’d never tell him that to keep your pride. After all, searching for wild and unsafe villains was kind of part of the job description to be an Avenger. You’d just been walking around, finally taking a break from the search and going to your favorite coffee shop, when you’d come along Loki.

“Ah, apparently you all are horrible at a little cake of hide and seek, I’ve been sitting here for all three days doing nothing but watching the cars a praying for a wink of sleep. Heimdall doesn’t seem to be listening to me, so I haven’t been able to go to Asgard either.” Loki sulked.

You snorted. “I can see why he wouldn’t let you home, after all the damage you did.” He glared at your truthful admonishment, and both of you sighed simultaneously. “You’re not leaving Earth anytime soon, Loki, so please just make this easy on me and come with me to the tower. SHIELD will probably lock you up again or something, but it’s better than continuing to hide out in the streets u til they find you and eventually kill you. Who knows, maybe Tony will even let you stay in the tower if you’re a good boy.” He’d never admit it, but those words of endearment coming from you made his insides flip and butterflies to flutter in his stomach. “What do you say, ready to turn in, Laufeyson?”

His heart quickened as you stared at him imploringly with wide eyes. Your offer was better than staying in the dirty, loud streets of Manhattan, and he’d be with you. The pretty girl who probably hated him, but nonetheless it was still you. Loki sighed, resigned, and struggled to get up before you helped him. “Do I get to keep the tesseract at least?”

“Loki, what the hell do you think?” You asked, slapping him on the shoulder for such a stupid question.

“No.” He sighed and followed you back to the tower, hoping that what they had planned for him wouldn’t prevent him from seeing a certain female Avenger who he may or may have not been following in the moment.

-

JOIN THE SLEEPOVER

[ddejavvu]

Plz asking mafia!remus if you can go back home like ur homesick and he’s like I’ll see what I can do cuz u gave him a :( face

today is multiverse monday (but i'm on vacation)! send me any au you can think of :)

--

"Please, Remmy," You whimper, a picturesque tear rolling down the apple of your cheek, leaving a glistening trail of your desperation in its wake, "I just wanna go home."

"I understand, love," Remus sighs, running a hand over his face, "But don't you like it here with me?"

"Of course I do," You rub miserably at your nose, smearing tears off of your face with the fabric of his jacket, "But I miss my home! Please, just for one day? No one will ever know I was there!"

You hold your pout, your lower lip wobbling as you stare imploringly into his eyes. Finally he scoffs, turning away from your puppy dog eyes to mutter a near incoherent, "Bloody adorable," Before he addresses you again, "Fine, angel. I'll see what I can do."

[homesoutofhuman]

Think of me - John Wick/fem reader

Summary: Based on Anon request: could I PLEASE implore to do like oneshot where you somehow convince John wick to go to the club with u and is fine watching u dance and have fun until he sees a guy flirt with u and he gets really possessive and u have to stop him from attacking the guy and he drags u to a bathroom or backalley (your choice really lmao) and gets animalistic with u ;) thank you so much🙏🏼

Warnings: rough sex, swearing, very minor daddy kink, possessive behaviour but nothing too dark- our John is still an angel at heart :)

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

You come home to find John stretched out on the bed, his long legs encased in his old comfy jeans, looking through a takeout menu, his dark eyebrows drawn together in concentration. You stand at the door and take him in for a few moments. He makes your heart ache with fondness, both from how soft he looks, his hair free from product, and from his old-fashioned habit of still using paper menus over an app. You take a running leap onto the bed and land straddling his lap. John looks up, stunned, grabbing your hips to hold you steady with an ‘oof’ escaping his mouth as you slightly knock the breath from him. Giggling you peck his lips and run your hands along the broad sweep of his shoulders.

“Well hey, that was quite a greeting.” he murmurs to you, fondly. “How was work?”

“Boringgg” you elongate the last syllable with a groan. “Can we go out for a drink? I need to see something other than the same four walls.”

“I thought we could order food, watch a movie.” John replies and you can see the conflict in his eyes between wanting to please you and to follow his own desires for a lazy night in.

“Oh come on old man” you tease, knowing just how to wind him up “I need dancing, music and cocktails.”

John groans grumpily in response, but you can see he is wavering, gazing into your eyes as you turn them up to his imploringly. The big bad assassin is melting for you, and that’s just how you like it. He cups your face with one large hand, the other moving to your ass that is resting in his lap and giving it a quick squeeze. “Well if that’s what you really need…”

His eyes are suggestive and even though you’d love nothing better than to have sex with him you know that he’ll tire you out so much that eventually he will get his way of staying at home and cuddling. “Any other night, John, I would stay in and let you fuck my brains out, but I really want to go dancing.”

“Well shit sweetheart now I’m going to have to take a cold shower.” The smile he gives you is gentle, but heated, taking your upper arms and rolling you off him and onto the bed, standing up and pulling his t-shirt over his head. Your mouth grows dry as you watch him walk towards to bathroom, his back muscles flexing. Will you ever not want him so desperately?

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

You avoid John until you’re dressed, knowing that if you see each other without clothes you’ll never make it out the door. Unfortunately when you see him it still has the same effect on you. He has slicked back his hair and put on a suit, making him look solid, intimidating, it’s hard to believe he is the same man who was lying on your bed half an hour ago. You’ve chosen a black dress to match, which on first inspection looks quite demure, but all it takes is for you to move and the slit up the front reveals a flash of your legs, or lean forward and the folds shift to expose your cleavage.

Bending down to do up your shoes you feel John behind you, pressing into the cushion of your backside. “John!” you cry out, startled, pulling yourself up to standing John wraps his arms around your waist and brings you tight against him. You let out a small whimper as his lips trace your ear.

“You know some men who would tell you ‘you’re not going out dressed like that’..”

“You’re not like that though John.” you reply, sighing slightly. Of course you love how he respects you, how he treats you as an equal, but sometimes, just sometimes, you wish he would get a little jealous.

He tilts your head with a forefinger on your jaw so he can look into your eyes “Hey, I trust you..I would never be in love with a cheater.”

Feeling your heart soften and the crazy impulse fade you smile back at him “I would never cheat on you John, or hurt you if I could help it.”

“I know.” he kisses your forehead and uses the hand on your hip to spin you around “Let’s go to this damn club then.”

John is still sulking in the cab, pining after his lost spring rolls and you take his hand, bringing his palm to your mouth, licking the salt from his skin. John lets you hold him, flexing his wrist in your grasp and giving you a questioningly look. Shrugging, you place his damp hand on your knee, satisfied that his eyes are now dark from arousal rather than brooding.

Moving into the club the music is so loud you can feel your insides vibrating and it’s exactly what you need. Nodding for John to sit down you tell him you’ll buy him a bourbon to cheer him up. Dropping it off at his table like a server you bend over, giving him a wink and an eyeful of your cleavage at the same time. “I’m going to dance John.” you murmur softly, and he just nods in reply.

You got me in a heading drop I never wanna come off You got me with your beat of love I never wanna come out

The music has a low, sensual beat that makes you start to move your hips, wishing John was dancing with you but you know he won’t. He told you firmly at the beginning of your relationship ‘I don’t dance’ and you haven’t dared question it. You spot a couple of your friends in the crowd and move further in, letting the swarm of people start to swallow you up. You can still see John watching you from the raised VIP platform and for his benefit you start to dance for real, running your hands down your body as you wind yourself up and down. 

One of your best friends, looking stunning, her long dark hair down her back comes closer to dance with you and you put your arms around her neck, smiling over her shoulder at John. You can see even from this distance how hard he is gripping that glass of bourbon. With a kiss on your cheek she disappears in a cloud of exotic perfume and you’re dancing alone again, strangers pressing around you, body heat and sweat.

A blonde man starts dancing towards you with intent and you let him, thinking it’s harmless. He moves behind you and you try to keep it playful, glancing over your shoulder to laugh at him, but the hungry look in his eyes makes you blink. Taken aback you don’t immediately register his grip on your waist until you feel him grinding into your ass and then you pull away, shocked and a little disgusted. Still, it’s nothing that hasn’t happened before, you’d just really rather it was John than some stranger touching you. Blondie is not giving up however, taking your hand and kissing it before using it to spin you around. You allow it, but as you turn you feel his hand leave yours and almost stumble, caught by a very strong pair of arms you look up into the dark eyes of your beloved.

“Having fun?” John rumbles, with a quirked eyebrow that you recognise well. He is pissed, you can tell, but covering it with sassiness.

“Now I am.” you push yourself into his arms and he holds you, kissing the side of your face and letting you sway to the rhythm of the music. Finally getting your way and dancing with John, you’re in heaven, feeling his body pressed to yours. The blonde guy appears at your shoulder, visibly annoyed, and tries to take your arm and pull you back to dance with him. What an idiot. John gives him what can only be described as a homicidal glare, but the guy must be too drunk to register the danger and squares up to him. 

You watch, wide eyed, feeling guilty somehow and also admiring the broad, tight line of John shoulders as he assesses the other man, weighing him up. Against John’s strength, both physical and inner, very few measure up.

John snorts, and you take relief in that knowledge he won’t be drawn in by such a lowly target, but at the same time you know how much he hates rudeness, and you fear the guy will at least be knocked out on the floor if he keeps pushing. Grabbing John’s hand you pull him away and off the dancefloor, trying to defuse the situation before it becomes violent.

“I need to go to the bathroom John can you wait for me?”

John turns on you, giving you a look from head to toe which lets you know you’re in trouble. The man is forgotten and suddenly he is focused on your actions. “You think you can play me, huh baby girl?”

Pausing on your way you tilt your head “John it wasn’t deliberate.” He stalks closer. “Maybe not, but you got me all wound up now and nowhere to go. What do you suggest we do about that?” He crowds into your space and kisses you, angry and possessive, his teeth clashing a little with yours as he uses his hand on the back of your neck to keep you there, pulling away with a harsh nip to your bottom lip.

Shivering, you try to deny the fact that you love it when he gets like this, finally jealous and giving you a glimpse of the wildness you know lies beneath his well-tailored, gentlemanly outer shell. Your body is responding to it in the most basic way, even though you know rationally John won’t hurt you, you just want him to throw you over his shoulder caveman style and show you who you belong to.

When you move into the restroom John follows you, and you flush at his boldness. Feeling hunted you keep walking, entering a stall and almost shutting the door in his face. John stares at you through the crack. “John, I really need to pee”

“Fine.” he replies, his face an impassive mask “I’ll be waiting.”

When you pull down your underwear you find it damp and you realise how turned on the situation has made you. You can see John’s feet right outside the door and decide to get a little more revenge. “Fuck, John you got me so wet.”

He gives a choked moan, making you grin with triumph, turning into a squeak when he rattles the door handle. It is locked firm, and you don’t know if you’re relieved or disappointed about that.  “I hope you didn’t wipe it all away” he growls through the door “Saved some for me?”

You are saved from replying by the arrival of some very outraged girls who tell John in very angry voices to get out. He grumbles but goes of course, not wanting to offend, and you force yourself out of the stall on shaky legs, looking at yourself in the mirror, seeing your eyes wide and excited. You reapply your lipstick and dab powder on your flushed cheeks.

He grabs your wrist and tugs you outside “We’re leaving now.”

“Where are we going John?” you ask breathlessly, and pointlessly, as he leads you into the alleyway beside the club. It’s dark enough there that no one will see you. John is having a difficult time walking with a hard-on, and it seems he cannot wait until you get home to jump your bones.

“Kiss me” he implores, cupping your face but refusing to initiate the kiss. His pupils are blown wide, black with lust and he’s panting to hard you can feel his warm breath on your face. Whimpering you brush your mouth on his, trying to give him what he needs, licking your tongue into his mouth. John gasps when he feels it touch his own.

“I’m so weak for you….you drive me crazy…” he wrenches off his jacket and throws it down, kneeling on top of it between your legs and rolling your dress up to your stomach, kissing there then down over your underwear. He pushes your legs apart and pauses, looking up with a smirk that is so unlike ‘your John’.

“What?” you manage to whine, acting the brat and arching your hips off the wall, your pussy towards his face, being very obvious that you want what he appears to be offering.

John presses his cheek against your thigh and you feel the scratch of stubble “Nothing, just looking at what’s mine..” he murmurs before pushing your underwear to the side and shoving his nose into your heat, his nose brushes your clit and his tongue moves skilfully against you. Rutting against him like an animal you try to remember where you are and that anyone could discover the two of you at any moment. Strangely the thought just turns you on more and John gives a moan, pulling back to look at you again, licking his lips.

“Delicious...you taste so fresh baby girl, but I’m going to fuck you now, before I come in my pants like a teenager, and you know I can’t have that.”

He tells you matter-of-factly, so calmly in that rumbling deep voice. Grabbing at his shoulders you pull him flush against you. John moves a hand under your butt so you can wrap your legs around his waist and then enters you with one thrust. He holds you, pinned between his solid body and the wall, your back scraping against the rough surface and making you wince a little in pain. John notices, as usual focused on your every minute expression,

“You can take a little pain can’t you? He bends his mouth to your neck and nips the skin there, distracting you enough that you let out a moan and clench around him. John makes a sound of approval and speeds up staring down at you without blinking, each thrust making your whole body move with the force of his movements.

“When I saw you dancing...you looked so good...” his hands move to the front of your dress, pushing under the material to caress your breasts. “Then I saw that fucking idiot and I thought, she should be in my arms, not his...”

Whimpering, you are completely lost in the feel of his hands on your skin, his cock inside you, and you try to allay his fears “I only want to be yours John...oh god...please...”

He pauses for a moment, considering you. You know you look absolutely wrecked, your dress half torn from your body, bite marks on your neck, scratches on your back from the wall. You couldn’t care less, and you want more, making a frustrated noise in your throat, sensing John is trying to give you a break.

Grabbing his tie in your fist you bring him back in for a searing kiss, begging for him to finish you one way or another. John rubs at your clit as he moves, almost viciously, but it still makes you moan, you’re so close “You better scream my name baby girl, remember who makes you feel like this.”

Dizzy, losing your head, all your pet names for him fall from your lips - God yes, John, my love...darling, baby...daddy, fill me up...

It seems to make him wild as he grasps your hips, and you see one more moment of concern flit across his face, not wanting to hurt you, or soil your pretty dress. You can hardly believe you’ve got him to fuck you outside against a dirty wall and you smile in triumph, your face contorting with pleasure as you come against his fingers, all over his cock. 

John gives a loud growl and fucks into you three more times, you’re boneless, letting him hold you up, his body the only thing stopping you falling to the ground. He moves you like a ragdoll, squeezing a hand around your neck as he comes with a choked noise, a mixture of your name and a curse.

Your eyes are still heavy lidded but you feel John moving to hold you more gently, fixing your dress as best his can, tucking himself back into his pants. With a mild glare you see he looks hardly ruffled, the pink on his cheeks and the wildness of his hair the only thing that betrays the sin he has just committed. You on the other hand are the perfect depiction of ruined.

The look in John’s eyes- a mixture of proprietorial awe and latent arousal makes your heart start to pound once more. He flings a long arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his side, making sure his jacket covers your modesty.

“Let’s go home.”

The cab ride home you cannot keep your hands off each other, and John has to tip the driver extra in apology. In the back of your mind you know you’ll end up cuddling with John, watching movies and eating takeout, and you love that you get the best of both worlds.

[bapydemonprincess]

A Demon Eats Human Souls

There is no alternative...

That is all the demon known as Sebastian Michaelis had known for centuries.

They either lash out and tear a human to pieces to get the bright light within, or they offer the human a deal, a way of making things... almost fair.

But either way always lead to the inevitable, unavoidable end for the human.

They died.

And that was that.

And every demon this one had known had not a single qualm on this. It was just a way of life for them.

They needed to eat souls.

Until...

“I’m not hungry, Mamma. I’m fine. I’m gonna.. gonna go play in my room.”

The mumbled, soft response was not up to snuff with the words being said by the little half-demon offspring of Sebastian, and then the child was waddling away; turning the corner to go down the hall, and putting a hand up on the wall to help them as they went.

Sebastian’s mouth slowly set into a thin line, and his jaw clenched up hard.

He hadn’t such pent up stress like this in what felt like years.

Certainly not since serving a certain bratty little earl as a butler and having to deal with his mouth and attitude day in and day out about “Make me sweets, Sebastian!” and “That’s an order, Sebastian!” and “I don’t need your help I’m not a child, Sebastian!”

No, no no. He shook his head and took a deep breath in, then out, knowing that that would be what his husband would remind him to do if Agni were here.

‘And how I wish you were, love,’ The demon thought wistfully, ‘I could really use your help right now. Your little tiger cub is beginning to bare their fangs a lot more lately..’

But Agni was currently away for the month, to spend time with Soma and his family; Agni’s first family, really. And so Sebastian and Aarushi had had no complaints. Wishing him a good journey and to give the Prince their regards.

Though Aarushi did whimper and cry a little, as was to be expected.

“Be good for Mamma now while I’m gone, little cub.”

“U-Uh-huh, I w-will, Pappa! I’m gonna be so good!”

“I know you will, I know.”

....

Sebastian straightened and quietly made his way down the hall towards Aarushi’s room. The door was ever so slightly ajar and usually when the little one was inside, you could hear them clear as day, chattering away to who knows which toys.

However, at no point did Sebastian hear any of that babbling this time when approaching the door. And once again he felt a clench of sorts inside, and nearly jerked his hand out to grab the door and fling it open.

‘Calm, careful,’ he chided himself instantly and softened his approach, pushing the door open slow and casual-like. ‘I’m sure they’re just fine. Just feeling.. quieter than usual.’

But not only was there not a peep from Aarushi, there was no movement, either.

The little halfling was found lying on their soft, big bed. Body curled up and facing away from the door, so Sebastian could not see from that angle if they were awake or not.

But with just a brief glimpse at their form and a swipe of the demon’s power to access their body’s state, Sebastian quickly understood the situation.

Aarushi was in a state of almost sleep. Just barely hanging on. Almost as if it was occurring against their will...

And just knowing this fact made the back hairs on Sebastian’s neck rise, his jaw clench again, and he had to bring a fist up to his mouth, not putting it in but pressing the back of his fingers against his lips as he almost wished to make a... a noise of some sort, before rushing to his precious kitten and swallowing them up in his arms. Keep them tight against his chest just like he used to always do when they were first born!

But no. No. No, no no no... He needed to breathe again, and move slowly and carefully towards his burden as if trying not to set off a bloody land mine.

‘And here I was feeling reminded of the young master’s brattiness. I’d take his mouth over this any day...’ The demon bemoaned in his wracked mind.

“Aarushi?” He finally spoke when he was inches from the bed, and then lowered himself on his knees to the carpet; making his form eye-level with his kitten on the bed.

...

Nothing. Not even a little squeak.

“S-Sweetheart, please. Come to your senses, now. Mamma w-wishes to speak to you, dear.”

If Sebastian wasn’t so caught up in the moment, he’d of felt a bit shocked at the stutter in his own voice.

But as he kept speaking he also reached out, gently resting a hand over their arm and rubbing it a bit; just trying to nudge it as tenderly and as carefully as possible.

“Mmn..” 

Finally. Finally a little crackle of a voice graced his ears.

“Come on, now, sweetie. Turn over...” Sebastian continued, hoping he could coax the little one in this as well as he had coaxed humans for millions of years.

They did indeed roll over to face their Mother, though it unsettled the demon in how they did it. Just sort of flopping over like their body was no longer theirs, but simply a... well, like a doll of sorts. And that nearly shook Sebastian to his core.

“Aarushi?”

....

“Mmmama.. I don’ feel good.”

A huff came from the demon’s mouth, while the corners of his eyes felt itchy with something that still baffled him that he could produce.

“I- I know, love. I know. Come on, let’s get you propped up a bit.”

He then proceeded to gently move his kitten’s frail little body. Trying his hardest not to focus on the coolness of their skin and slowing of their heartbeat even further than before.

Once Aarushi was laying up against their soft big pillows, Sebastian moved to sit close by while rolling up a shirt sleeve quickly.

Aarushi still looked slightly dazed, but they tilted their head a just little to see what their mother was doing.

A glint of silver caught the natural warm light of the sun's last rays, as Sebastian expertly flicked out a knife almost as if out of thin air.

Quite possibly he had, for there was no need to carry knives on his person twenty-four seven these days.

He started to press it into his own flesh. All he needed was a quick little slash.

“M-Mmama?? Mamma, wha’ you doin??” Aarushi whined out, voice still garbled with their lack of energy, but they had just enough to sound slightly panicked at what they were now witnessing.

“Shhh shhh shh.” The demon hushed. Though the tone made him twitch, he kept his focus now on his mission.

The red liquid that slowly dripped from the wound would stain a little, but Sebastian knew he’d handle that once this was taken care of.

“Now,” He started, moving his arm towards them and leaning in. “I need you to use as much energy as you can, and latch right onto my arm with your mouth, love. Can you do that?”

“I... I..” They stammered and blinked, eyebrows scrunching up as they tried to process this. “Why?” They finally simply asked.

Sebastian paused, biting his lower lip with his own fangs as he tried to gather what patience he had left at this moment.

“Because, you need to drink my blood, dear.” He simply said.

“I.. g-gotta.. wha..?” Aarushi whined once more, looking even more confused.

“Drink. Aarushi. PLEASE!”

Sebastian realised he’d shoved his arm nearly into his kitten’s face in his sudden burst of frustration.

And quickly regretted it as the tears started to roll down the child’s face.

“Please, sweetheart. Please do this. I know it does not feel right and I know you do not wish to.. harm me, but you need to do this one thing for me. Please. Please, I am begging you, Aarushi!”

It only escalated to the point of Sebastian hunched in very close to his little one, one arm around them, pulling them in closer, and pressing his head gently to theirs.

“You.. need this, little one. You need this. My blood will help you feel better.” He practically was chanting now.

“Please. For me. For us. For..” Sebastian opened his eyes and looked imploringly into Aarushi’s.

“For Pappa?”

That made Aarushi’s blurry little red eyes look up, as if a magic word had been spoken.

“You want Pappa to come home to see you being so good, right?”

Sebastian went for the catch as quickly as he could.

“I... I do.. I wan’ Pappa to be happy an’...” They could barely make out any more words at this point, their voice naturally slurred, their eyelids fluttering shut for longer periods.

“Then just take a little drink, kitten. Just a little bit. It’ll be fine. You’ll feel better, and Pappa will be so happy to see that you’re doing so well.”

Finally, Aarushi opened their mouth, little fangs already elongated, shining out and just waiting for a chance to do what they were meant to do.

And they did. Aarushi nearly wobbled in place as they lunged as hard as they could for Mamma’s open and waiting arm, latching on and feeling and tasting the rich, powerful demonic blood already spread over their tongue.

It all came down to instincts then. As soon as Aarushi was attached, they started to automatically drink down the blood offered, oblivious to the how and why by now.

And Sebastian simply continued to smile in relief and encouragement, stroking their hair and back with his free hand.

...

After that, Aarushi continued to stay lying back, a bit of a brief buzz going through them from the process. But it was harmless, and it only meant the half demon was doing much better, and was very much sated for a bit.

“Now,” Sebastian spoke up, but his voice was low, deep, soothing as a purr as he stroked the child’s hair. “When Pappa comes home, we’re going to ask him about accompanying us on an outing, alright love?”

“Mmmmhmm.” They purred back, staring peacefully up at the ceiling as they did.

“We’re going to go out, and we’re going to try finding a soul for you.”

Aarushi didn’t respond to that, though.

But they certainly were well aware and awake.

“Aarushi...” Sebastian raised his voice juuust a little...

Aarushi sighed and closed their eyes.

“Okay.”

...

“Okay?” Sebastian promptly asked, though he inwardly yelled at himself for daring to press the matter.. THIS WAS A WIN, DAMMIT.

“I... I don’t wanna um.. eat.. people at all,” They tried to explain. “But I do know that I kinda... need to, huh?”

Again Sebastian found himself huffing softly in mild amusement.

“Yes, you do. I was hoping by now you’d catch on, love.”

Aarushi blushed a little, squirming a bit and looking down as if scolded.

Sebastian sighed and couldn’t help immediately squeezing them up in a big Mamma Hug, kissing their head for good measure.

“But considering there are so many different kinds of people in the world, I’m sure we can find one or two out there that even you won’t mind devouring the souls of.” He assured, trying to sound confident.

“That- that’s not... nice to do though, Mamma!” Aarushi suddenly wailed, squirming some more in his grip.

With a sigh, Sebastian released them and simply smiled into their little familiar red eyes.

“No it isn’t, sweet one. But you must know this:”

He lowered himself to their level one more time, and whispered.

“Not all humans in the world are nice, either.”

[jamesdeerest]

nurse lupin

PAIRING: older!remus lupin x reader

REQUEST: anon asked “Hai :) can you please write a thing for older Remus lupin seeing that you (fellow order member) has a cold at the meeting and he takes care of you and fluffy cute stuffs please?”

WARNINGS: angst if u squint

NOTES: updating for the first time in forever i know im sorry. also i have a cold right now and where is my fkn remus lupin how come fictional characters get him and not me >:( also this is kinda short so more of a blurb? and i made y/n and remus married in this bc why not

“Achoo!” you sneezed again, wiping your sore nose with a crumpled up tissue and ignoring the stares of your fellow Order members. You nodded at Sirius to continue, who was looking at you concernedly, mumbling a ‘sorry’ as you sniffled. Remus furrowed his brow from where he sat next to you, watching as you stuffed the used tissue back into your pocket. He nudged you, whispering, “You okay?”. You nodded hastily at your husband, pushing your hair back from your face as you tried to focus on what your friend was saying through your pounding headache.

Suddenly, Molly got up, the screech of her chair against the wooden floor like a knife to your ears. Scrunching up your face in pain, you breathed deeply, trying to calm yourself as she raised her voice. Black spots danced across your vision, as you felt a gentle hand on your arm, leading you out of the room.

You half sat, half collapsed on the sofa, and soon a steaming cup of tea was placed in front of you, in the hands of Remus. You smiled gratefully, or at least tried to, as you gripped the mug with shaky hands and sipped it. There was a brief pause, Remus staring at you the whole time.

“You need to take better care of yourself, Y/N.” he said, frowning. You rolled your eyes playfully. “Yes, Mum.” Remus shook his head. “I’m serious, Y/N. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” You nodded, seeing how much he cared.”

“I know, Remus. I just...every time I feel like taking a break, I see all of the people that You-Know-Who killed. I- I need to avenge them.” you said, eyes pricking with tears. Remus placed a comforting hand on your thigh, rubbing it gently. “I understand, Y/N, I do. But baby, you can’t help them if you’re about to collapse.” You nodded, a stray tear, running down your face. Remus sighed. “Look, let’s take a week off. You can catch up on sleep, and get properly better, so we can focus on work.” As you started to protest, Remus stared imploringly at you. “Please, babe. I’m- I’m scared for you.” 

You met eyes, your e/c staring into his brown ones. “Rem, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise how much this was hurting you-” But your husband cut you off with a hug, blanketing you in warmth. “It’s okay, Y/N.” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. “It’s alright. I’ve got you.”

“Nurse Lupin strikes again!” Sirius cried from the doorway. You jerked apart, staring at the ex-Gryffindor, confused. He laughed. “Always trying to get us to actually sleep for a healthy amount of time. Lunatic, right?” With that, he walked out dramatically, leaving you giggling and Remus exasperated. “Dear God.” he sighed, you cackling even more. “Sirius is going to be the death of me one day,” he groaned, making you swat his head. “Hey! That’s my job!”

bleghhh this was shittyyyy :(((((

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated :)

send an ask if you want to be added to my tag list!

tags: @blackpinkdolan @hoewkeye @shadylittlewonder @sassy-specter @i-am-eating-rn

requests are closed

[inotherverse]

I’ll Be Home For DedSec (Marcus/Wrench)

ONLY A DAY LATE FOR THAT GOOD CHRISTMAS FIC HERE WE GO

also I haven’t finished the game asdfghj I still have to play the last mission but I think this is still canon compliant???

also u can read it on ao3 if you’d like gimme a kudos hell yeah

thanks bl;pealse enjoy

“What’re you doing here, man? You know it’s Christmas, right?”

Wrench turned at the sound of the voice and saw Marcus coming down the stairs of the hackerspace, smiling playfully at him.

“Do I really seem the type to celebrate, M?” he said, turning back to his work, already comfortable with the second presence in the room. “Get drunk at somebody else’s party, maybe, but I’m not a ‘spend time with family, get all warm and fuzzy inside’ kinda guy.”

“Still, go home, take a break, watch a shitty holiday movie. It’s a holiday, use other people’s religion as an excuse to slack off like the rest of us,” Marcus said, coming to stand just behind Wrench at his workbench.

“Yeah, yeah,” Wrench looked at Marcus over his shoulder. “Hey, and what about you? Why are you here?”

“‘Cause I knew you’d be here,” Marcus said, with a smug smile playing at his lips.

Wrench laughed softly. “Yeah? And shouldn’t you be, like, with your family right now?”

“I’m going later,” He said, walking forward to stand next to him. “What’re you even working on down here?”

“Jumper upgrades, mostly. There’s not much else to do,” Wrench gestured to the guts of the jumper in front of him, spread out on the table, along with some other technological odds and ends. “Well, actually, I’m sure there’s a lot of rich and powerful people getting drunk in a room together somewhere...” the screen of his masked showed two capital O’s as he looked imploringly at Marcus.

“Eh, we’ll get ‘em on New Year’s,” Marcus said, dismissing Wrench’s suggestion with a wave of his hand. “Take a break, come with me,” He took a few steps backwards toward the stairs, ushering Wrench to follow him.

“Where are we going?” Wrench asked, looking for a stopping point in what he was doing.

“The garage.”

“Why are we going to the garage?”

“Because your Christmas present is at the garage.”

Wrench paused. “Oh. I—”

“It’s not a car.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“I know, but. It’s at the garage. I didn’t want you to think it was a car.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Because it’s not a car. And that would be, like, disappointing.”

“Yeah.” Wrench was now facing Marcus fully, the jumper forgotten at the mention of gifts. “I was just gonna say—”

“You were going to say something like, you’re surprised, or ‘oh, I didn’t get you anything,’ or whatever, right? I don’t care, man, just c’mon!” Marcus said, turning his back on Wrench and going up the stairs.

“Alright, alright! I’m coming!” Wrench called after him, quickly crossing the room to catch up. “You’re way too excited about whatever this is.”

“No, I’m really not,” Marcus turned his smiling face on him, looking a little too mischievous.

“Sure,” Wrench gave him a small shove up the stairs. “And do you really need to wear a turtleneck and a coat in California? I get it’s Christmas, but you look like a love interest in a shitty Hallmark movie.”

Marcus sighed. “I’m sorry you don’t understand fashion. I’m sorry you can see art right in front of you and not even recognize it. It’s so tragic for you.”

They reached the door, and Marcus bowed, motioning dramatically for Wrench to go before him. He followed, and the sliding door closed behind them, sealing the hackerspace.

“Also, stop watching Hallmark movies.”

———————————————————————————-

“I can’t believe we made it all the way here and you’re still on this.”

Wrench threw his arms up in exasperation. “I’m just saying! I don’t actually watch them,” He argued, waiting as Marcus opened the door to the garage. “I just know what they’re like!”

“How do you know what they’re like if you don’t watch them?” Marcus taunted, clearly enjoying dragging out the argument despite his protest.

Wrench’s mask switched to ‘angry eyes’: two downward-slanted lines. “Because I just fucking know what they’re like! Everyone does! They’re like, a staple of—” he stopped short as he walked through the door, seeing Marcus’s handiwork.

Next to his workbench stood the chalkboard he kept there, giant letters in Marcus’s straight, thin handwriting read: “MERRY CHRISTMAS!” It was curved to arc perfectly over the box that stood in front, lined up with careful precision. The box looked huge, a tall rectangle coming to above Wrench’s middle, and was wrapped in red and green paper, complete with a ribbon running up the sides and forming a bow at the top.

“Whoa,” Wrench breathed, taking tentative steps toward the box. “It’s all wrapped up and everything.”

“...Yes.” Marcus said, as he closed the door behind himself. “That’s typically how these things go. Kind of a staple of the thing.”

“Damn, Marcus,” Wrench said, slowly circling the gift and ignoring Marcus’s jab at him. “This thing is huge.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“Shut the fuck up, stop ruining Christmas with your dick,” Wrench said, holding a finger out to silence Marcus while eyeing the present.

“Well?” Marcus urged, impatient. “You gonna open it, or just stare at it?”

Wrench still hesitated a moment. “I’m… just trying to guess what it is. It looks like there’s a fucking toddler in here.”

“Nah, too tall for a toddler. He’s eight, minimum.”

Wrench rubbed his hands together, then attacked his present. Marcus watched, hands clutched in anticipation, as Wrench first untied the ribbon and let it fall to the floor, then ripped away the first bit of paper, halfway down the side.

“Oh… my god,” More paper ripping. “It’s not.”

“It is!” Marcus replied gleefully.

“Fuck. Fuck! Holy fuck!” Wrench started bouncing in place, unable to contain his joy.

“Yep!” Marcus replied, smiling, matching Wrench’s energy.

“Fucking… Marcus!” Wrench screamed, reaching a higher pitch than he realized he was capable of making, the filter of his mask helping it reach ear-splitting levels. Through his excitement he ripped the rest of the paper away until it stood fully revealed: a huge box emblazoned with Haum’s logo. He pulled the front panel away, revealing his gift: a brand new security bot. “I can’t fucking believe it!”

“Merry Christmas, Wrench!” Marcus said, clapping his hand down on Wrench’s shoulder. “Your boy’s been reincarnated!”

“Marcus, how in the hell!” Wrench was still barely able to control himself, and not really making the attempt, looking back and forth between Marcus and the robot. “It was like, absurdly difficult to get one of these the first time!”

“I have my ways! Don’t worry about it, just get to work on ‘im. He’s severely in need of a paint job.”

“Oh fuck, Marcus, thank you so much!” Wrench yelled, throwing his arms around Marcus. “Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!”

Marcus laughed and returned Wrench’s hug. “You’re welcome, man.”

Wrench pulled back some to meet Marcus’s eyes with his own exclamation points. “You’re the best, you’re literally the best!”

Marcus laughed again. “Hey, I try.”

“You! You literally fucking..!” Wrench started, launching away from Marcus and toward the robot. “This is really the best thing, Marcus, I mean it.”

“Well, I mean, I know getting rid of Wrench Jr. was really fucked up, I mean even if it was the best thing to do at the time…” Marcus settled against the nearby table, watching Wrench excitedly pull the bot from the box, flitting around it like a hummingbird. “So, here he is! Look, your son came home for Christmas!”

They both laughed a moment, before Marcus said, “Hey, I got him, both times, doesn’t that make me like, his other dad?”

Wrench gasped. “Oh my God, it does.” He laughed, then spread his arms wide. “Hey, look at me, I’m spending time with family on Christmas, like a real person!”

They both laughed, bringing the initial excitement in the room down, replacing it with a calmer, comfortable moment of silence. Wrench stopped bouncing around the security bot, and came to stand in front of Marcus.

“I’m serious, M, this is really great. I wish I had something cool and amazing for you that illustrated that I understand you better than anyone else, but…”

Marcus laughed. “Hey, there’s always next year, man. And, I mean, you don’t have to get me anything, that wasn’t what I was going for here.”

“I know. Ugh, you’re such a nice person. I hate you.”

“Wow. This family is tearing me apart,” Marcus said, moving as if to walk over to the security bot. “Okay then, I’ll just take my son and leave.”

Wrench positioned himself between the two, putting a hand on Marcus’s chest to stop him. “Just kidding, I love you, do not touch him.”

Marcus held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. Could’ve said it with more feeling, but I’ll accept it.”

“Oh! Okay, round two,” Wrench cleared his throat in dramatic fashion. “Marcus Holloway.”

Marcus burst into laughter, just at the way Wrench pronounced his name: deep and low like a love confession in a bad movie. “Don’t, don’t!”

Wrench, cleared his throat again, louder, as if protesting the interruption. “Marcus Holloway,” he began again, “Allow me to confess my admiration of you.”

“Stoooooop!”

“No! You must let me continue!” Wrench said, adopting an indistinguishable accent, lofty like a Victorian drama with the Victorian extracted, the effect only made more funny as it garbled through the filter of Wrench’s mask. “I have admired you from afar for too long! I can no longer bear it!”

Marcus threw his head back in laughter. “Stop, oh my God!”

Marcus’s laughter only urged Wrench to carry on, ready to take the bit as far as it could go. “Marcus Holloway!” his mask showed two pointed, smiling eyes briefly as Wrench couldn’t help but to laugh through his character. They lasted only moments, though, before Wrench tore the mask from his face, dropping dramatically to one knee, and holding the mask over his heart like a hat. “I must confess my undying love for you!”

“I regret—” Marcus began as his laughter began to die down. “I regret everything. Are you even doing a bit anymore? You’re a little too good at this!”

Wrench laughed at the jab, only taking everything Marcus said as encouragement. “My own love laughs in my face! How will I go on?”

“Stop, oh my god, if you go anymore I’ll have to think you’re serious, c’mon!”

Marcus kept laughing, but he felt the air in the room change. It was immediate, but subtle, as their laughter stopped and a strange expression flicked across Wrench’s face; the eyebrows previously knit in a fake severe expression rose in surprise for only a moment, before Wrench was standing back on his feet. He broke eye contact, and moved to put his mask back on, but hesitated, standing almost frozen, looking for an out.

Marcus looked over the other, trying to find meaning in the sudden change. “Wrench?”

“Uhh… yeah. Anyway,” Wrench looked everywhere but at Marcus, already half turned away from him. “What were we doing?”

Marcus began to connect the dots, and a flash of realization passed across his face. “Oh,” He stopped leaning on the table to take a half-step toward Wrench. “Wrench.”

“Oh, yeah, the present,” Wrench recalled, ignoring the knowing tone of Marcus’s voice. “It really is great— It’s a great present, Marcus, thanks.”

Wrench turned away to face the robot and moved to raise his mask to his face, but felt it stopped; he looked down, and Marcus’s hand was there, holding it in place. He looked up into Marcus’s eyes, which fell too softly on him, and he stood waiting for the worst, his anxiety written all over his face.

“Wrench,” Marcus said again, waiting for the other to turn his face away— happening at the sound of his name. “Wrench, man, I’m sorry, I wasn’t—” he stopped, fishing for words, and fast, before Wrench could cut in and say with a laugh that what he thought was happening wasn’t happening, that he misunderstood.

“Wrench, this isn’t— I di— ugh, this shouldn’t be so hard,” Marcus stopped a moment to look over his friend, who stood still, silent, like he was waiting for this to end, like he had already conceded defeat.

Marcus needed to respond quickly, needed to let Wrench know that whatever awful scene he was playing out in his mind wouldn’t happen, but at the same time he was at as much of a loss for words as Wrench was.

Marcus sighed. “Fuck it,” he whispered to himself under his breath. “Wrench,” he called, softly this time, like gently calling him to come home to him.

One hand came to rest on Wrench’s shoulder that faced him, that was trying to keep him away,  as everything in Wrench’s body language screamed that he was ready to run, wanting to run, but was tired of running. The hand that rested on Wrench’s mask came up slowly until it met the cheek that was farthest away, and gently urged it to turn toward him. Wrench complied, not resisting the touch, smoothly moving where he urged him like floating in the tide.

Marcus looked into Wrench’s eyes, which was a mistake, as he almost lost his nerve, but something in the shock he saw there pushed him forward; Wrench was surprised, scared, it was clear, but what wasn’t there was protest. The hand slipped from his cheek to his chin, tipping it upwards, towards him, and Marcus dropped his eyes down to Wrench’s mouth, steeling himself to take the leap.

The kiss was slow, uncertain, and it felt to both of them like it barely held onto life, like a dandelion trembling in the wind, knowing that one stiff breeze could whisk it away entirely. Wrench’s heart thrummed in his ears like roaring wind shaking the building, but the rest of him stood stock still, afraid to move and end what he barely knew was happening. His mind screamed to slow down, to enjoy the moment before he lost it, and it took some thought before he even realized he should kiss Marcus back.

The kiss was short, Marcus eventually pulling away. His own face felt hot, and he saw a pink blush running along Wrench’s cheeks, and even a splash of it across his nose. He studied it a moment while they both caught their footing, the sight of Wrench’s uncovered face still being a rarity.

Wrench was hesitant to open his eyes. “If I look up—” He started, “I swear to God, If I look up, and there’s like, mistletoe— or some shit— above me, I’m going to fucking lose it.”

Marcus laughed, relief apparent, as he read the still-persistent uncertainty in Wrench. “Nope. Nothing up there.” He smiled, amused, as Wrench opened his eyes, flitting them briefly to the ceiling as if his word wasn’t good enough. “Just a regular kiss. Sorry to disappoint.”

Wrench sighed like a weight was lifted from him. “Marcus, oh my God,” he breathed, closing his eyes again and covering half his face with his hand. “Oh my God. That’s— I’m— Oh my God.”

Marcus bubbled with laughter, suddenly feeling lighter than he was before. “Yeah, I agree.”

“I’ve been— I’ve been— fucking dreaming of that,” Wrench said, suddenly with a confidence he didn’t have before.

“Yeah?” Marcus said, listening to Wrench as if this were the first time he had heard his deep, unaltered voice, husky now in the fading heat of the moment just before.

“Yeah.”

“Since when?”

“Since I fucking saw you, first of all, and then I got to know you, and fuck, it got so much worse than I fucking thought it would.”

Marcus smiled, and another comment to urge Wrench on played at his lips, but at that moment his phone sounded, breaking through the air like a hammer on ice. Wrench looked almost startled, like he had forgotten that there were other people in the world, and felt their eyes on him. He moved toward the security bot.

“‘S my family,” Marcus mumbled, reading his text. “I should probably leave, if I’m gonna make it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Yeah,” Marcus watched as Wrench looked for something to do. “But, hey, this was—”

“Wait,” Wrench said, suddenly freezing in his tracks.

“What?”

“Wait a fucking second.”

“I am.”

Wrench let out a pained sigh, rested a hand on top of the security bot, then laid his forehead on it. “So you gave me, like, a perfect Christmas gift.”

“I’m not looking to brag, but, yes?”

“Demonstrating that you understand me really well.”

“...Sure?”

Wrench sighed again, full of exasperation. “And you look so stupid handsome in your stupid turtleneck.”

“Thank… you?”

“And we had our first kiss. On Christmas.”

“Yes.”

“Marcus, we’re living a fucking Hallmark movie. I’m a fucking Hallmark movie protagonist,” He ignored Marcus buckled over with laughter in the background and started to pace back and forth. “I’m the fucking workaholic boss or whatever the fuck and you’re my sprightly coworker who showed me the true meaning of Christmas or some shit, and I just stood here and let that happen.”

Marcus reined in his laughter long enough to respond, wiping a real tear from his eye. “I don’t think Hallmark makes movies about hacker anarchists with queer, interracial romance plots.”

Wrench perked up. “That’s the only thing that saves us,” he pointed an accusatory finger at Marcus. “Only thing.”

Marcus laughed again. “Thank God. Now, go work on your son, give him a cool paint job, inappropriate catch phrases, the works,” he headed toward the door as Wrench settled in to work on the robot. “I need to go now, but… later? We’ll talk?”

“Yeah,” Wrench said with a lopsided, content smile, as he replaced his mask. “You know where to find me.”

[josiesparklelove]

Sound of Silence (Chikage Kazama)

Tagging: @spyoflove @labyrinthofleah

Part 1: Chikage Kazama

Kazama was strolling along the familiar road passing by the same shops he had dozens of times before though had never thought to stop at since his destination was much more important that trivial trinkets or clothes. Eventually the small shop at the end of the block came into view and he quickly ducked inside. He waved his way past one of the girls at the front, his face was verification enough for him to gain entry so he paid no mind to the worried look she wore as he passed.

As he made his way to his normal seat he finally took a moment to look around. It was possibly more quiet than usual, not that he minded in the least. And finally his eyes stopped on the group seated next to him and nearly growled.

“What are you doing here?” Kazama said lowly.

“Good day, Kazama.” Leah said brightly with a smile. She had become used to his sour disposition and honestly still wasn’t quite sure why her best friend chose such a disagreeable man. Well, one look and she shook her own head. She knew why.

“I did not know that business was so good that you could turn away customers.” Leered Okita from Leah’s side.

“This is not my business, worm. If it were, I would have you killed on the spot.”

“Tough words from someone who depends on his wife for income.” Hijikata added, his own face turning into an evil grin.

“Um.” Chizuru spoke up and Hijikata’s smile faded away, choosing instead to lean back in his seat and lay a possessive hand on Chizuru’s back. “Speaking of Josie. Where is she?”

“Ooh! That’s right! We came here specially for her.” Heisuke spoke cheerfully before receiving a slap to the back of his head from Harada. “O-OH! I mean. Her tea. We came here for her TEA!”

“That’s right, Heisuke. We used to frequent her place back in Kodo. It was a shame when it was lost in the fire. What a surprise it was that it popped up here!”

“Haha. What are you talking about, Sano. You were practically crying in front of the ashes of that store. Me and Heisuke had to peel you off the floor lots of times.” Shinpachi bellowed and the three men squabbled for a bit, breaking the quiet atmosphere of the teahouse. Kazama could feel his eyes twitching. Silently one of the worker girls walked nearby but was too nervous to break up the comotion until Saito spoke up.

“You three are being a nuisance to the shop’s patrons.” After a few mumbled apologies, Saito nodded at the woman who now felt as though she were on stage with the amount of stares now pointed towards her.

“U-Umm. My Lord.” She said addressing Kazama through trembling lips. “L-Lady Josie is not here at the moment.”

Kazama waved his hand. “That is fine. I have no pressing matters. I will wait.”

“N-No… it’s just…” She looked towards the Shinsengumi.

“Oh, no pressing matters? How like a rich lord.” Hijikata mumbled before receiving a pointed look from Chizuru and he glanced away.

“Heh. Hijikata finally found his match, huh?” Okita snickered before receiving his own jolt as Leah’s smile hinted towards nothing happy.

“N-No. It’s just she… isn’t coming back to the shop today.” Her words were nearly whispered as she finished her sentence. The three rowdy members already began getting louder, as Saito spoke up.

“Is there something the matter with her?” Saito asked and Kazama quirked a brow.

“Uh. She was coughing quite a bit. We thought it was best if she went back home to rest. We were told not to shut down the shop since it was a busy day…”

“Coughing? You don’t-” Leah began but stopped as Okita held her hand under the table and gave it a squeeze.

“She said she felt fine, she just wanted to rest for a bit.”

“I didn’t think demons could get sick.” Heisuke said quietly out loud receiving another slap, which sparked another small squabble. During the comotion, Kazama quietly stood up and left the building.

“Hm. Never saw him so worried about someone.” Hijikata mumbled.

“I hope Joise will be okay.” Chizuru said.

“Knowing her, she’ll be back flitting around the shop and bossing around that guy in no time.” Harada said with a knowing smile.

“I had no idea you thought so highly of her.” Saito replied.

“Yeah, maybe we should call that guy back so you can tell him yourself.” Okita joked and the sounds of the chaos of the Shinsengumi faded out the further Kazama walked.

Eventually he made it back to his estate, a maid meeting him as he approached the bedroom.

“My Lord, Welcome home.” She said with a bow which Kazama didn’t even notice as he continued walking by.

“Um. It would be best if you allowed Miss Josie an evening to rest. She has been feeling unwell for the past few days and is resting now.”

“Few days?” Kazama asked.

“Yes, my Lord. Though her coughing just started today.”

“Hm.” Kazama thought to himself, upset that he didn’t notice it sooner.

“A-Ah! But I had no idea how she was feeling she told me that earlier today. She has been very good at hiding her symptoms.” Kazama hummed again before walking forward. The maid tried to stop him but it was no use.

He quickly made it to the room and quietly opened the door. She was laying in bed, a bowl of water and a damp cloth was nearby. He approached her and very softly ran his hand across her skin, she was a little warm, but nothing worrisome. She was sleeping very soundly, which was new for her since normally she would awaken at the slightly sound.

It was later in the evening, Josie surmised as she finally began to stir, her throat felt like twas on fire as she tried not to cough, the convulsions brought even more pain to her raw throat. As he stirred in bed she felt her pillow was much firmer than she remembered and soon she felt a cool feeling trace along her forehead. With great effort she opened her eyes to see Kazama above her. Her head was laying in his lap and he was brushing her hair out of her face.

“How are you feeling?” Kazama asked looking down to her. She tried to sit up, but Kazama held her down softly. “No, I did not ask you to get up. How are you feeling?”

She attempted to speak, but only coughed at the effort. She pointed towards her throat.

“Hm. Your throat hurts? And you can’t speak?” He asked and she weakly nodded. “Understood.”

He laid his hand back on her forehead, a silent command to lay back down and relax. She was too tired to do anything but comply so she laid her head back onto his lap as he called on the maid and sent her to get some medicine and warm tea for her throat. And so she spend the night being spoiled by her worried husband, though he would never allow anyone to say such things about him.

A few days later, Josie was feeling better, but her voice was still scratchy so she chose not to speak to conserve her voice. It was this day that Amagiri and Shiranui visited the estate. Shiranui was loud as ever as he recounted a few stories of their trip. Josie sat in the room with the men (crocheting) sipping tea until Shiranui directed the conversation to her.

“Hey Josie. You okay? You haven’t said anything since I got here. You dazed by my good looks finally?” He asked a big grin on his face, Josie rolled her eyes.

“Shiranui, make that joke again and I’ll make sure your ‘good looks’ are spread across the country in tiny pieces.”

“Touchy as always, Kazama. It was a joke.” He waved it off and approached where Josie was seated. “Isn’t that right, Josie?”

“Shiranui. Don’t bother her, she was sick until a while ago and is still recovering.”

“Oh? So that was it. Didja lose your voice?” He asked and Josie gave him a look before nodding slightly.

“Ah. Well, that must be good new for you, right, Kazama?” Shiranui asked, his grin from before back and with new vigor. “You always said her nagging voice could wake the dead. Guess you’ve had lots of peace around here, huh?”

Josie silently glowered as Shiranui laughed and she witnessed Kazama give a small grin before sipping at his tea.

“Well, it has been peaceful. But it would be best not to praise someone’s illness.”

Josie only stared blankly at her husband before letting out a small huff. Kazama raised his eyes towards her and she quickly raised her hand to her mouth and let out a small cough. Amagiri watched the scene silently from his seat.

It was a few days later when Amagiri visited the estate, alone this time. Kazama was seated at his desk looking through some files as Josie was flipping through some book uninterested.

“Good evening Kazama, Josie.” He nodded to his sister who nodded back.  “Feeling better?” Josie looked up but before she could respond Kazama grumbled from his seat.

“No she still cannot speak. Her other symptoms are gone, but her voice has not returned.” Kazama was visibly worried, his anger could barely cover up his obvious concern. It was then that Amagiri looked back to his sister, with eyes matching his own and saw her give a small smile. He raised his eyebrow in question and she raised a finger to her lips for him to keep her secret. He nodded in agreement. Kazama may be his boss, but Josie was his sister, and plus it was amusing to see him in this state.

The next two weeks went by and Kazama was slowly beginning to unravel. It was strange to have his wife, someone who could command armies with her loud voice. Who charmed strangers with her melodies, and who was the only one who could tell him exactly what he needed to hear become silent. He had tried to summon outside doctors, but she kept telling him, through gestures or writing, that she was fine, that her voice would come back soon. But when is soon? He would ask himself.

Until finally one evening, as he was nearing pulling out his own hair in frustration, Josie sighed from where she was leaning against a doorway.

“Chikage.” She said softly and saw him freeze in place as if he were checking if he was finally hearing things.

“Chikage.” She said again and he whipped his head around to see her and looked at her imploringly wanting to see her speak for himself before he made any movements.

“Are you tired? Let’s go to bed.” She said softly and he practically flew to her and swept her into his arms.

“How? When?” He asked her his eyes trained on her lips.

“My voice? I told you it would be fine once my sickness was gone.”

“Yes. But that was weeks ago, and-”

“And you told Shiranui that my voice could wake the dead.” She said sternly and finally his red eyes tore away from her lips to stare at her eyes.

“You?”

“Have been able to speak for a few weeks now. I wanted you to know what it was like without my nagging voice. You enjoy the peace, right?”

“When did I-...” Suddenly his face went stern as he now vowed to kill Shiranui the next time he showed his face. Josie lifted her hand and tapped her finger on his creasing brows.

“This isn’t Shiranui’s fault, plus I’ve already taken care of him. He’s been working at the tea shop running errands all this while. I made sure there were LOTS of errands.” She smiled and just the sight melted away Kazama anger.

“I’m not sure he’s the only one that should be punished.” Kazama said lowly.

“Oh?” Josie asked with a cheeky grin.

“Did you think you could trick your own husband and not get properly punished?”

“I’m not sure it deserves a punishment, when it was your own fault for speaking badly about your wife.”

“Hm. I suppose we’ll have to find out if that’s the only thing then.” H grinned and swooped in and they shared a kiss. They shared their evening together, as Kazama was sure to make sure he would get his month’s worth of her voice at once.

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Epilogue

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One day at the Tea Shop, Heisuke, Shinpachi, and Harada made their way inside to take a break. The shop was surprisingly busy, and they were hopeful to see Josie back in her element. In a flash, they saw a very flowery kimono in front of them but as they looked up to the face, Shiranui stood there his face just as confused as theirs.

Seems Josie had sent over the Kimono to the shop just in case it was so busy that Shiranui would need to help serve customers.

Seems Chikage isn’t the only evil demon in the Kazama household.