#thought I might have been too loud so I started muffling them despite their need to be released as my nose intended

[lake-snz]

Loved both your latest, but the “don’t sneeze” was extra hot for reasons…

Request: What would you think about using pepper to get a tickle building, and you could talk about what it is you love about sneezing as your nose teased you more and more?

Thanks 😊

Announcing Pepper Tickles (f)

Hope this is to your liking, anon!

These sneezes took a little bit to get started, but once the tickles took hold, they were relentless against my nose. I couldn’t help but hitch and twitch, my eyes desiring the nearest light source to coax my sneezes over the edge.

I did try to stifle at the end, something I’m usually good at, but not after such a desperate fit. The first attempt was loud and wet against the crumpled tissue I held to my nose. The second and third were much better restrained, and then I let out a final, large sneeze to satisfy my tingling nostrils.

[ninsletamain]

Fluffbruary Day 6: tie | embarrassment | dessert

My contribution to RebelCaptain Fluffbruary PLUS @quarantineddreamer's super ultra amazing fic addition below the cut!!!

The lines of code on the screen were no longer making sense. Somewhere between coffees 4 and 5 of the day they had slipped from Jyn’s grasp, gone from familiar symbols to something more akin to ancient hieroglyphics–as sure a sign as any that it was long-past time for her to take a break from her assignment. 

Reaching her arms skyward–tight knots in the muscles of her shoulders and along her spine protesting–Jyn glanced blearily at the alarm clock that perched neatly on the corner of the desk. 

Shit. Was that really the time? She scrambled to her feet, socks slipping on the linoleum floor, and threw her hair quickly into a bun. (Or what she hoped would pass for one anyways.)

Pants. I need pants. Jyn cast about the room, throwing the covers of the bed back, checking over the back of the roller-chair she’d spent the day–no, longer than that apparently–glued to, but found nothing. 

She could have sworn she had at least dropped a pair of sweatpants at the end of the bed at some point…

Cassian must have tidied up before he left (the neat freak); she hadn’t even noticed. That happened sometimes: the computer consuming her when she was locked onto a particular idea. But it shouldn’t have happened today. Today she had planned to wrap up her coursework early, surprise him… 

Okay screw the pants, Jyn decided, marching from the room towards the kitchen with all the determination of a soldier approaching the battlefield.

(If a soldier’s uniform was your boyfriend’s oversized, university sweatshirt and the fight ahead was the arduous task of preparing a meal.)

It took her more than a few tries to find everything–despite how organized Cassian kept his kitchen cabinets–but before too long Jyn was staring down at the black, glinting surface of a flawlessly seasoned cast iron pan and the looming depths of a large pot, a box of spaghetti, its matching jar of sauce, and an assortment of meat and vegetables thrown on the counter beside them. 

“I’ve got this,” Jyn muttered to herself, eyeing the recipe she’d taped to the fridge like it might grow fangs and snap at her. (Or catch fire and nearly burn the place down as had happened on her most recent foray into chefdom). “You’ve hacked into government systems before,” she continued. “This will be easy compared to that. A piece of cake, or a pot of pasta.” Hopefully anyways. 

She checked the oven clock. If she stood any chance of getting this done before Cassian (Impossibly-Punctual) Andor came home she had to start now. 

The empty apartment should have been quiet, peaceful. Instead, it suddenly seemed impossibly loud, noises swelling in her ears the longer she stood staring at the array of ingredients and tools––footsteps from the neighbor above, the distant rumble of a washing machine next door, the clicking of the fridge beside her, all clamoring in some insane harmony. 

The longer she stood there waiting (for what, she had no idea) the more power the sounds seemed to hold, quick to dredge up each and every anxious thought she had been so diligently shoving to the furthest corners of her mind since Cassian had told her of his plans to travel to Yavin…

When he cooked, Cassian always had music playing. Maybe that would help. Drown out the worry and the fear.

Jyn pulled her phone from the pocket of the red hoodie and tapped a playlist at random. Something upbeat began playing, muffled through the fabric as she tucked the phone back into the pocket, rolled up the too-long sleeves of the sweatshirt, and drew a deep breath. “Alright, here goes nothing…”

Turning down the hallway that led to his apartment, Cassian smelled something…interesting. 

He tried to pin down what it was. Starch, yes. Tomatoes, yes. Onions and garlic, most likely. But then there were other unexpected notes, the heat of what might have been chili powder tickling at his nostrils, growing stronger with each step closer he got to his door, and maybe the cheese he was smelling was parmesan or pecorino? The combination wasn’t exactly bad, just off–out of balance. 

He thought for sure it was one of the neighbors; maybe Mrs. McCleod experimenting again–after all, she had stopped him just last week to ask him about his favorite market for finding fresh produce.

But as he passed by Mrs. McCleod’s apartment, he noticed the crack under the door was dark, a small pile of mail collecting beneath her welcome mat. She was probably away visiting her niece again. Which meant that the smell was most likely emanating from the door at the end of the hall.

His door. 

Cassian tugged his tie looser, a warmth kindling in his stomach, a smile slowly spreading across his face; Jyn. 

He’d insisted she should stay at his apartment while he was gone–enjoy some solitude away from distracting roommates and loud neighbors–but he hadn’t been entirely certain she would take him up on it. She’d given him a strange look at the suggestion (despite the fact that after nearly a year of dating, she seemed to spend more time in his apartment than her own) and returned to her keyboard, completely absorbed in the endless numbers and symbols flashing wildly across the computer screen at her command.

The reaction hadn’t been a total shock to him. Jyn had been unusually quiet ever since he’d first mentioned his job interview in Yavin. He’d tried to tell himself she was just preoccupied with the workload associated with the final semester before she earned her degree, but deep down he knew that she was likely asking herself the same questions as he was: If I get this job, what happens to us? 

Cassian reached into his suit pocket for his key, twisted it in the lock, and slowly opened the door, his eyes tearing up at the overwhelming burn of capsaicin in the air. Dropping his backpack by the door, he followed the sound of hissing steam, music, and occasional cursing into the kitchen. 

It had been just over a day since he’d seen her, but even so, Cassian had spent the plane ride home longing for the moment when he could wrap his arms tight around her again, kiss her until they were both oxygen deprived and gasping for air. 

He’d envisioned a quick, eager reunion. Unable to hold himself back from rushing towards her; clumsy, grabbing hands and awkward clashing of teeth. 

But then he saw her: standing in his kitchen with her hair wild atop her head, dancing from the stovetop to a nearby drawer; humming along to the song playing faintly in the background as she poked uncertainly at a pan of sauteed vegetables and shot a quick glance at a boiling pot of water–and all he could think to do was lean his shoulder into the doorframe and stare, his breath catching in his chest with a fierce and sudden ache. 

Cassian knew he was helplessly, hopelessly lost–had known it for a while–but it had never been more apparent to him than in that moment, hovering at the threshold. He was certain that if he did nothing else for the rest of life but watch her, he’d still die the happiest man on earth. 

She’d decided to borrow his favorite sweatshirt while he was away–red, well-worn, with Ferrix University emblazoned across the front. As she rose on her tiptoes to reach into the spice cabinet, the bottom of the sweatshirt rose too, revealing the faintest glimpse of black panties, serving in sharp contrast to the perfect, pale curve of her ass. 

The sight inspired a different kind of ache. Cassian made his way across the kitchen, and placed his hands on Jyn’s shoulders. Somehow, the only words he could seem to find were, “You’re cooking.”

A string of swear words fell out of her mouth in quick succession. “I could’ve stabbed you,” she grumbled, even as she set down the knife she was holding to lean backwards into him. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that.”

“I’m surprised I managed to.”

He felt her shoulders rise and fall against him. “I was distracted.” 

“I can see that,” he mused. “You’re cooking. You hate cooking.”

He could just make out the faint flush that rose in Jyn’s cheeks as she glanced back at him, her hair tickling his chin. “I do hate it,” she agreed, “but I figured you’d be hungry and…well, I don’t hate you.” 

A soft laugh escaped him, “What a relief.”

“Shut up.”

“No really,” he said, pulling her closer. “I was beginning to wonder.”

“Do you want food or not?” Her scowl was made significantly less believable by the smile catching quickly at the corners of her mouth. 

Cassian gave a considerate hum. His stomach had been rumbling as he stepped off the plane, but now a different kind of hunger was taking hold. His skin was hot beneath his suit where Jyn’s body pressed against his own; all he could seem to think of was her in his sweatshirt–in only his sweatshirt. 

But Jyn seized his brief lapse of silence as an opportunity to change subjects. “So…How’d the interview go?” she asked lightly, though her muscles went tight as she dipped a wooden spoon in the red liquid that bubbled on the stove in front of her.

He watched as she blew steam away from the spoon before bringing it to her mouth to taste and wincing. “The interview was fine,” he murmured, pressing (what he hoped she would as) a reassuring kiss to the top of her head.

The smile had already vanished from Jyn’s face. “You think you got the job then?”

Cassian moved his hand slowly up and down her arm, earlier ideas already forgotten. “They made me an offer,” he admitted quietly. 

“They did…” The energy seemed to have drained straight out of her–the dancing, humming, swearing woman from moments ago turned to shadow. 

Like she didn’t know. Like she couldn’t feel the frantic stuttering of his heart where his chest pressed between her shoulders blades. Like she couldn’t sense him, standing right here beside her on the knife’s edge. 

“I told them I couldn’t give them an answer yet,” he told her. Of course I did. As though there had been anything else he could do…

“You did what?” Jyn twisted in his arms. “That is your dream job. You know you want to go, so just go. Why would you–”

“Jyn,” he cut in, and she went still–let him hold her in place for at least a moment longer while he continued. “I said yet. I told them I couldn’t give them an answer yet.”

Her knuckles were white, wrapped tight around the wooden spoon. He reached past her and switched off the burners before anything could start smoking or boil over.

Cassian’s own nerves were starting to take hold. He gave a hard swallow, trying to clear the tightness from his throat. “I don’t want to go to Yavin. Not without you… I don’t want to go anywhere without you.”

“What are you saying?”

“Come with me. After you graduate in the spring, come with me.”

“Cass…”

He was about to tell her she didn’t have to answer right now–to delay whatever pain he sensed was coming from inevitable rejection–when she closed her hand around his tie and tugged him closer, tilting her head back to press her lips to his. 

Beneath his mouth, he could feel her smile forming, but it still took his breath away to see it when they broke apart. “Is that a yes, then?”

Jyn wound his tie tighter around her hand. “I like this suit,” she commented, eyes sweeping across the blue fabric and back to the black silk of the tie. 

“I’m taking that as a yes…” Cassian told her, his attention splitting as she began to playfully undo the top buttons of his shirt. 

“I cooked for you…” Her lips passed over his throat, her voice muffled. 

Heat was racing up Cassian’s spine, his thoughts going increasingly hazy. “You did…” he replied, inhaling sharply as the hand not wrapped in his tie found the back of his head, fingers tugging lightly at his hair. 

“I’m a terrible cook, but I cooked. For you.”

She still hadn’t answered him. Not really. He wanted an answer, a definitive answer. “What does this have to do with–”

“Are you still hungry?” 

“Jyn–” he pleaded.

“Because I was thinking we should forget about the food,” she continued, her mouth brushing over his ear–words like sparks to his skin. “I changed my mind. There’s something else I want to do for you instead. Something I’m much, much better at…”

He relented slightly, instinct shoving reason aside as he tugged at the hem of the sweatshirt, her skin soft against his fingertips. “What did you have in mind?” 

“You mean, aside from moving to Yavin?” she murmured with a teasing grin, pressing even closer, tips of their noses brushing, her breath warm against his cheeks.

“So that was a yes earlier…”

Jyn rolled her eyes at him. “What do you think?”

He lifted her off her feet, and she laughed, wrapping her legs tight around his torso. “I think you’re coming to Yavin with me,” he said, slightly breathless, not quite daring to believe it. 

“I’m coming to Yavin with you,” she echoed, delivering a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Welcome home, Cassian.”

[itoshi-s]

@marycorn requested: rin + bathing with him // no lukewarm love v-day event !

wc: 1.7k. cw: fem reader (referred to as woman like, once), fluff, rin isn't all that used to love :,3

"you're feeling more like oat milk and vanilla, or.." you pause, twisting the jar so you can read the label properly, "oh, you like this one- lavender and lemon?"

you hold up the candles, lifting them respectively as you speak, only to find rin - the very one your question is directed at - still staring at his phone intently as he rubs the back of his neck. the little frown etched between his brows and tense stance of his broad shoulders make him seem entirely too stressed for your liking.

"rin?" you ask again, putting one of the jars down on the counter. "you okay?"

it's only the lighter flicking that makes him snap out of his stupor. he glances over, teal eyes a bit confused until they settle on the candle you lit up - his favorite.

(it's hard to call it a favorite when it's actually the only scent he enjoys among all your other gourmand and flowery ones.)

"hm? yeah, sorry." rin sighs and locks his phone, setting it down before reaching to pull his hoodie off. "just some press shit before the season starts. had to catch up." he explains, voice muffled by the thick cotton over his mouth before he fully peels the garment off.

"'s alright." you hum softly, hand dipping into the bath water to check temperature. "i just don't like seeing you all pent up like that."

now, rin doesn't like how it feels, either. perhaps that's why he values his routine so much - the daily schedule he's been following ever since he realized how serious he is about football. morning stretch, breakfast, practice, lunch, gym, going home, dinner, evening yoga, then some meditation to finish the day. sounds like a lot — and it definitely is — but surprisingly so, it doesn’t feel as tiring as it might seem.

rin’s never really thought this tight schedule of his lacked anything, either — at least not until you crawled your way right into his heart, albeit a little too cold but oh, so aching for love still, and made yourself home in the long abandoned space. it's only natural you came with a whole package - all your silly candles, drawers full of various bath bombs and salts, and far too many masks to count, which you always looked so ecstatic to put on his face.

you came with your own little routine - one that fit so perfectly into his, it's almost as if it was fate's doing.

perhaps, this is exactly what he needed at the end of his day - your skin on his, head tilted back to rest on his shoulder as you listen to him speak, so intently and calmly as always. maybe, the feel of your fingers in his hair, tenderly pushing the bangs out of his face as you grin upon the sight - here's my handsome boy - is the little piece he longed for everyday.

(love, he thinks is the right word for it. he needed your love - but despite getting better at voicing out his feelings over the years, it's still far too sappy to admit to out loud.)

snapping out of thought, rin shakes his head. “yeah, me neither.” the man mumbles under his breath, and you need to look over your shoulder to make sure he’s just teasing — voice far too tired to make out the tone. “if they end up calling again, it's better cause someone's dead or some shit. not picking up otherwise.”

you laugh, and rin’s mouth curls into a rare smile.

“wow," you mumble, "that’s not very captain of you." you tease, to which he snorts.

"not very teammate of them to be such idiots either." you'd suppose there would be more of a bite to his tone as he retorts, but it's surprisingly gentle as he allows his gaze to rest on your silhouette, taking in the image of you slipping the silk robes off your shoulders and exposing the soft skin underneath. he sniffs shortly, "whatever. let's not talk about 'em anymore."

you only give a slight chuckle in reply as you slip into the bathtub, followed by a content sigh. the bubbles have grown thick and luscious, nearly covering most of your body once you’re fully submerged in the glittery lilac water, and rin’s cheeks grow warm in time with your own. yours, because the water is indeed just a bit too hot even for your liking; his, because you look so fucking sweet, a sight for his sore eyes.

pulling your knees chose to your chest, you squirm forward to make space behind you. "c'mon, it's gonna run cold-"

"shut up, woman," rin mutters under his breath as he steps in behind your back, lowering himself and pulling you flush against his chest once he's fully seated. the water sloshes over the edges at his sudden motion and you gasp - both at the mess and his jab.

"hey!" you try to turn in his grasp, but the way it tightens keeps you locked in place. rin laughs by your ear as you lean your head back with a pout. "it's the first time in, like, forever that we have time for this, and that's the treatment i get?"

rin gives your frame a squeeze again, paired with a chaste kiss pressed to the crook of your neck. you lean your head to the side, allowing more space, and it's almost muscle memory by this point - merely an instinct and unconscious thought that makes rin's heart jolt.

it has been a while, indeed, rin figures. you've been both way too busy with work to make way for the small things, pieces of your daily routines that in the end made the day feel this much better. now, he's not exactly sure how did all of... this become a regular routine for you two, but it has quickly turned out to be the very thing both his mind and body long for whenever it's time for a break.

maybe the lack of time was the cause of his annoyance spiking these past few days, eyes rolling upon the most minor inconveniences. he's never been the calmest type around the team, but it was truly best to keep your mouth around him lately. (if there has to be one person to ask about it, it's ryusei. as always.)

as rin inhales your scent, mixing with the faint citrus of the bubblebath and calming lavender the candle diffuses, he realizes that he's missed you.

long eyelashes flutter against your shoulder as he closes his eyes, hands starting to roam down your waist and grope their way to your hips where they finally settle.

"i missed you." rin admits, albeit to his own surprise - and it seems like yours, too, if the way your fingers flex on his knee is anything to go by. he noses at your neck and feels his shoulders finally loosen up. "missed this, i mean."

you shift in your seat slightly, back pressing against the firm planes of his chest even further, until you can nearly feel the steady thumping of his heart.

"me too." you say softly, one hand slipping to rest on his bicep instead while the other guides his other arm to wrap around your chest again. you squeeze it tight and turn your head to get a better look of rin's face. "it's not as fun without you anymore, yanno?"

rin must sense your gaze on him, cause as soon as you're done speaking, his head lifts from it's spot on your shoulder and turquoise eyes lock with yours. a small smile breaks across your face as you reach a hand up, pushing back the bangs that already start to stick to his forehead.

"you're telling me i'm fun?" the ravenette mumbles, corners of his lips pulling upwards when you go to mess with his hair.

your chest squeezes with adoration upon the sight - handsome, refined features on show, paired with the dearest look anyone could ever grace you with. sheepishly, you nuzzle your face against rin's neck and nod. "well- sometimes." you murmur and feel his throat vibrate with a laugh.

"took you long enough t' admit." rin snickers, straightening his legs a tad more as he leans back, until the water reaches shy past your collarbones. "you wanna tell me something else while we're at it, baby?" he taunts, head tipping down just slightly to steal a look at your face, still snugly fit in the crook between his neck and shoulder.

"mmhm, i just might." you hum, "i love you, dummy," you sigh, holding back an amused smile as you push yourself up. sitting up straight, you look back over your shoulder just in time to spot the very sight you've longed after for the past few days - teal eyes just barely hooded yet sparkling with so much affection, and a content smile to pair with.

you watch silently as rin rolls his shoulders back, arms moving to rest over the edge of the tub. it's been a little while since you've last seen his body this relaxed, lean muscles all loosened up and frame seemingly even more broad now as he rests.

"i love you, too," the man replies, feeling his smile widen upon noticing your lips curl up in a grin of your own as well. perhaps it's just these silly essential oils you've loaded the bath water with, or maybe it's the temperature and steam in general, cause there's a giddy feeling gnawing away at his chest and a loop pulling at his heart that makes it just a tad harder to breathe properly.

(it's the same sensation that only ever creeps up on him when he looks at you. love, rin thinks. he can voice it out all he wants, bare his heart for you countless times - but he's never getting used to how dizzy it makes him, searing hot in his veins and cotton-like in his head.)

a sense of serenity swirls around the room and mixes with the delicate lavender as silence falls over the both of you, other than the gentle fizz of bubbles and flicker of the candle. you hold rin's gaze as he breathes, chest in a steady rise and fall until he opens his mouth to speak - and you're surprised he's only ever asking for it now.

"wash my hair, please?" rin speaks - quietly and meekly so, as if you ever denied him the thing - and you roll your eyes, hand already reaching towards the stand to fetch the shampoo bottle as you smile, feeling so lovesick your chest hollows.

"thought you'd never ask."

[sunshineneedsaplacetokeephernsfw]

Curse Week - Roger

Day 18 | the Hunter's curse (enhanced hearing)

Kinktober masterlist

Gender-neutral reader (genitals not specified)

Word count: 950

18+, teasing, listening to reader mastrubating without consent, mutual mastrubation, minimal editing

You hadn’t been able to stop stealing glances at Roger since you started helping him. He mentioned he could use help with some of his experiments. The entire time you did your best to hide your stares.

“Your heartbeat’s getting real loud,” Roger said.

“I’m nervous about getting it wrong.” Your eyes avoided his.

He quickly chuckled. He leaned over you to reach for a book. It didn’t escape his notice how you tensed and your heart beat irregularly. He made a show of licking his fingers before flipping the pages. Your face flushed cutely and he smiled.

“You’re still really nervous there. Need some help?”

“What?”

Without another word, Roger got close to you and put his hands over yours to guide them to pour the liquid into the vial. He was nearly pressed up against you, just one more inch and you’d try to slap him. He could nearly feel the heat coming off of your body and face. Your breath hitched.

Your whole body was tense as he guided you to put the liquid back in its stand. He debated teasing you again.

“Well,” you started loudly, “I think I’m done here. I think that’s all the help you needed.” You squeezed your lips together into a thin line and squeezed your hands into fists at your side. “I’ll be off now.”

You pushed his chest to get some space to walk away. Your heart was beating louder.

“Aw, leaving already? I could use more of your help.” He teasingly got closer to wrap his arms around you. You quickly spun out of them.

“No thank you. I got other stuff to do.”

And you hurried out with your face flushed. Your stomps up the stone stairs were faster than usual. He could still hear your heartbeat. He laughed to himself.

Roger continued his work while listening to your racing heart. It was always fun how flustered he could get you. To think it was still beating this fast. It was actually nice to listen to while he worked. He followed your sound to your bedroom door and heard it opening and closing.

He was about to turn his focus away from the sound of your heartbeat when he heard a strained breath and the hasty rustle of clothes. His own breath stopped as he froze and strained to hear. He'd be called a pervert, but he wouldn't have been able to stop listening anyway. And he just wanted to confirm.

There was a click of teeth and a hiss. You were saying something under your breath, but too many sounds were omitted to guess what, other than a single “fuck”.

Soon enough a wet rubbing met his ears, sending a rush of blood to his groin.

There was a brief consideration of if he should keep working. But he knew he wouldn't be able to focus. It was one thing if it were any of the other Crown members. But it was you.

And you were the only heartbeat he heard in that room. Along with the wet swirling and your growing moans, muffled ever so slightly like you were biting your lip.

The sounds were small and subtle. Like you considered he might hear and tried to keep it as quiet as possible. The edges of his mouth curled up, as he imagined you so horny that you couldn't help but touch yourself despite being in hearing range.

He imagined the cute look on your face if you discovered he knew he turned you on. How your cheeks would puff out and you'd avoid his gaze. How he'd want to tilt your chin up so you would look at him.

It was his turn to suck a breath in. The thought making his pants much tighter than he thought it would. His hands curled on the table.

He bit his own lip and heard a breathless moan. One of his hands went to his bulge. He hissed as he tried to rub in circles to relieve himself. He couldn’t help himself and started undoing his belt.

Your breath hitched and his hand wrapped around himself. His hips jerked forward into it. His eyes closed and tried to pretend it was you, as he focused on all your noises. He tried to picture how you look, how you would look. Biting your lip and squirming and moaning just for him.

The wet sounds got faster and the bed creaked. He could tell you were close.

Your angry mumbling mixed with your labored breaths like a warning to him. He couldn't help but laugh. He twitched in his hand.

The noises coming from you grew more intense. He anticipated the sound of you cumming onto your hand and being unable to hold back the moans.

A strangled moan escaped your throat. Your voice went high and whispered… his name. He held his own breath. It was faint, but unmistakable.

His balls suddenly tightened and he busted. Cursing as it came out and his load squirted out. His legs shook ever so slightly. He clicked his tongue at himself and wondered when he'd let you have such an effect on him.

He came down and panted while you did the same. His hand on the table as he caught his breath and recovered. His eyes gazed down. His white cum splattered on the floor.

He sighed. He'd have to clean that up. But first, he lightly bit his lip and thought about you.

You wouldn’t know for sure if he noticed, and you would probably be too embarrassed to bring it up.

He didn't have to mention it unless you did. But he hoped you would.

[ihatesocialmedia45]

Chapter 4 "Homelander Versus"

@slytherinroyalty16 hello broseph! New chapter has dropped :o

The rain fell in lazy rivulets against your windowpane; drops collected and built in size, before growing heavy and falling down the glass in a great rush to the ground. You watched from your armchair, mug of tea in hand. The drizzle was a comforting ambience, you thought, watching the haze of the outdoors. Likely emblematic as well. You looked away.

It had been three days since you'd charged Homelander with Breaking and Entering; three days since the company-wide office party Abstein had thrown in honor of your catch. The whole ofice had been in uproar, singing your praises to the heavens and exalting your dedication to the job. Jackie had even joined in, grinning ear-to-ear all day long, the rosy tint to her cheeks unmistakble as she'd popped champagne, holding the bottle so that Todd from Accounting could catch the froth as it dribbled down the neck. If anybody questioned why, exactly, you'd been at the office at three am, they didn't let on - and why would they? This was major for the firm. Homelander had been the catch of the century.

And this? This was just the beginning.

Once this case was closed, and Homelander was locked into a Three Strikes Arrangement, the avalanche of reports filed against him would come tumbling down after - and his goose would be cooked. Stolz had years of data on him; bills that might curb his power suddenly locked in Committee; plane crashes, destruction of property, bribes, threats - and, most damning... the murders. Avalanches of them, all grisly, all pointing to motives ranging from petty revenge to silencing... and all left unexplained, and uninvestigated. Until now.

 But that, you thought, sipping your tea, depended on Vought, what they'd do next. Stan Edgar didn't get his reputation for nothing; you were more than willing to bet that he'd have at least a few tricks up his sleeve before arraignment. The sound of your phone startled you out of your reverie. Alicia. You sighed.

Perhaps you'd been... a bit too forthcoming, in the excitement of the catch. You'd promised to go out with her tonight, to celebrate... but now that you'd settled in, the thought of slipping into a dress and stumbling around drunk felt like more work than it was worth. You considered letting her go to voicemail and answering later, as if you'd misplaced your phone. The phone went silent - but before you could sigh in relief, it started again, your ringtone grating on your nerves.

You let it ring a good four times before picking up. Best to set the tone before the call started, you thought.  

"Are you still coming?" Alicia chirped, too loud. The sound of booming bass thrummed in the background. You sighed.

"Ugh... I don't know; it's raining out..." you mumbled. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, hand at the back of your neck, and scowled. 

This is pathetic, your reflection seemed to say. Just say you don't want to go.

Why does she need an explanation, you thought back. I'm her boss.

Well, she thinks you're her friend, because you've been too indulgent.

You want a night in? Earn it.

Alicia whined on the other line, and you turned your gaze upward, before the next line came to you.

"You know bars aren't really my scene... I feel bad rejecting the offers, but I just don't like them." 

"Oh," Alicia said. "All bars?"

Despite the victory, her tone, so small and sad, did make you feel a little guilty. You cleared your throat.

"How about... lunch tomorrow? I'll come to you! I'll bring Kava!"

"Kava?" Alicia repeated in a puppy-like voice. "Mmhm," you promised, smiling. At least she was easy to please.

"Alicia! Got your drink!" a voice called out. Alicia held the phone to her chest. 

"Alright! Here I come!"

The voice, muffled now, shouted something at her again.

"No... I don't think she's coming..."

The sounds of the bar, lively and energetic, stirred something in you; all the voices, the music and clinking of glasses painted a picture that felt so rich, so real... It was true - you didn't like bars. But staying in was starting to fel less and less like the retreat you'd initially thought it to be. You frowned.

Now you were starting to feel a bit left out. Staying in was your custom, your ritual... but they were making this night out seem so fun, your own night paling in comparison. But... you'd aready declined, wouldn't be convinced after the fact. If you went, it would be because you decided to - not like this. Very briefly, you considered rescinding your rejection - before rejecting the consideration itself.

"I'll let you go," you said instead, hanging up and pushing your phone into the cushion of your chair; that way, if it did ring again, you wouldn't hear... which wasn't outright ignoring a call, you thought. Just... neglecting to hear it.

And that was normal, non anti-social behavior. Lots of people did that. 

"Whatever," you muttered, walking to your bedroom. The rain pattered on.

There was no outing to distract you, true... but that didn't mean the night was lost. You padded into the bedroom, shutting off the light, and, reaching your hand in your dresser, fetched the bottle of wine you'd left to chill, uncorking it and taking a swig.  You looked into the mirror and winked. 

"Queen of the castle," you muttered wryly, taking another sip. Whatever.

You had other matters to attend to - and the bar would always be there. Tonight, you'd planned to treat yourself the way you usually did, after a job well done, in a way that exhilarated you more than any promises of a night out on the town ever could: Homelander Investigation. These nights were... special. Rewarding. You'd bring your laptop into bed, spray yourself with your best perfume and wear your favorite nightgown, and then, with your brightness scaled down... you'd search for information on him.  You were likely the reason the firm had such an extensive backlog on the Supe to begin with - possible birth records; his latest appearances; his order at the Vought Cafe - and that information couldn't be sought elsewhere, because Homelander never went to bars. 

But tonight, you had something else in mind. Something a bit more... in-depth. You spun in the mirror, admiring the way your gown fanned out around you, before flouncing into bed, laptop at the ready. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth.

Homelander court appearances

You combed through the articles, bored; most of them you'd already read. There had been...one this year, three in the year prior; one two years before that.. and these were the ones resulting from people able to catch him. There had to have been more, no doubt. Homelander was a busy man.

"What have you been up to..." you muttered, eyes narrowed as you clicked away. 

Five pages in, you hit your mark - something that you hadn't managed to find before. The article didn't matter much - not right now. You'd save it for later, for daytime hours. What you were looking for was...

"Aha."

His picture. 

"There you are..." 

And there he was; Homelander, at the court bench, broad-shouldered and self assured, the golden gleam of his eagles reflecting the sun behind him. He was flashing a smile at the camera, like the one he'd given you that night - the points of his grin too sharp, his eyes cold and dark. You felt your eyelid twitch.

"You smug fuck..." you grumbled, saving the picture, adding it to the collection.

This was... disgraceful, you thought, watching your hand navigate to the dreaded file you kept of all his appearances. To have so many pictures of him was a humiliation in itself. You had a job to do, granted, a case to crack; it wasn't as if you were some delusional fangirl. You needed the backlog; Abstein and Stolz needed the backlog. But still, the optics of this... you stowing away hundreds of his photos... made you squirm.

You weren't attracted to him - certainly not, you scoffed - weren't fooled by his act... you weren't even scared of him. And though you had the explanation of your job to keep this... dossier on file... there was something else that kept you invested, that you kept buried at the back of your mind, ensuring it would never see the light of day. You didn't want to know what it was; why you were so engrossed; why these little investigative bouts... called to you the way they did. 

Why... this had been the only thing that could get you off for months now. Why you didn't stop, despite the shame that engulfed you each time. 

You let out a gusty sigh, watching the slideshow with a half-lidded gaze, snaking one hand under the covers and tucking the comforter under your chin. Nobody had to know, at least. With the laptop covering your hand, and the darkness of the room as cover, it felt safe to continue, brow quirked as the images faded into each other.

Homelander smiling for the paparazzi, hand outstretched mid-wave.

Homelander sitting with a fist tucked under his chin.

Homelander, poised for flight, knees tucked in before he ascended.

"Fucking idiot..." you hissed, hand working steadily beneath the comforter. You closed your eyes and pushed the laptop away, rolling onto your stomach and raising your hips, fingers moving slowly against your clit in tight circles. The pleasure sickened you as it wound its way through your body; you ground down on your fingers with a whine that had you biting your lip. 

You turned your mind back to Homelander, the night you'd finally caught him at Abstein. The image you conjured in your mind was hazy - it had been dark - but that only added to the molten surge of heat rising through your core. You wandered slowly, eyes shut tight.

You remembered the shock of his cape as you spied him on the security camera. The ghotly whisper of your feet as you followed him. The slope of his back as he'd rifled through the Discovery Room.

What had he been doing there that night?

He'd looked so sure of himself, you thought, your breath coming in hot puffs now. Even after you'd caught him, red-handed, he'd still stood so tall - arrogant as he saluted you. Mocking, as he'd flown away, challenging you to catch him, detain him. Teach him.

"Fuck..." 

You moved faster, your fingers losing traction from the slickness pooling around them; it seeped down your thigh, hot as sin, quickly cooling to ice, as it rolled. You gasped.

He held the world in his fist, rattled it like prey in the jaws of a wolf - but in that moment, you had him. Really and truly. He might have been a wolf, terrorizing the pasture - but you were the hunter, rifle in hand.

Biting down on the pillow, you heard his voice in your mind, dark with rage, useless in the face of the camera.

"I said... 'who are you'," he'd growled. And he'd wanted to kill you, you knew... but there was nothing he could do - and, as long as this case went to trial, he'd never be able to do anything again. You choked out a gasp that felt obscene as it hit your ears, release hitting you forcefully, the sheets knotted in a vice grip between your fingers.  A shuddering exhale burst from your lips, hair wafted in the humid breeze.

You buried your head in your pillow, willing the images away, and sat up slowly, revolted at the glint of wetness between your thighs; you'd need a bath after this.  

Homelander's photo winked back at you from your screen, his eyes taunting. You slammed the laptop shut and stalked away.

"Look - the only reason I 'broke in' was because of Deep! He- he was terrified, practically shaking in his little boots! And he wouldn't tell me anything! Me! Can you imagine?!" Homelander crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, waiting for Madelyn to respond.

Madelyn took his hand, her eyes trained on his. "Yes, and that's very funny... but now, honey, you're indicted. And we've been trying to appeal for continuance, but I'll tell you... it's not looking good." Homelander sneered.

"What do you mean, 'not looking good'?  That's what we always do!" Madelyn sighed. Homelander turned away. He hated when she got like this - sympathetic. It felt like babying.

"Sweetie... the court isn't budging. They won't let us postpone the trial. We've tried everything... but you're just going to have to get in there, and clean up this mess." Homelander rocketed to his feet, throwing his head back. This was so unfair. This was so, so fucking unfair. He sputtered, scoffing and shaking his head, rapid-fire blinks making his eyebrows dance.

"Since when is it a crime, to defend your own?"

"When you fly down to a law firm in the dead of night, break in through the windows, and rifle through their Discovery Room..."

"But - I was right! Those creeps at Abstein are up to something!"

Madelyn patted the seat next to her, looking up at Homelander expectantly. He held his position, arms crossed. 

"Come on..." she cajoled, raising a brow. "Avoiding me isn't going to make you feel any better; you know that."

He deliberated for a second more, before sighing and retaking his place beside her, gingerly laying his head in her lap. She smiled down at him, raking her fingers gently through his hair, watching as he closed his eyes.

"You do understand why I did it, though... right?" his voice was small, Homelander thought, hating himself for asking. But he had to know - had to hear her say it. Madelyn hummed gently. 

"Of course I do," she murmured, smoothing his hair. Homelander melted into her lap, breathing in the scent of her perfume. 

"Well... okay," he conceded. "Because... I really didn't do it for no reason. He was so scared of that damn NDA that he wouldn't tell me anything! I had to go!"

"I know," she said softly. "You were just curious, is all."

"Exactly..." he muttered, letting the soothing sweep of her fingers lull him. He looked up at her after a moment, the beginning of a thought on his lips. Madelyn quirked a brow.

"What is it?" she asked. Homelander looked away.

"Oh, nothing. Just... when are you going to let me make this official?" Madelyn sighed, and immediately, Homelander rose from her lap. He leaned in, defensive.

"Why not?! You know... making me stay with Maeve is unfair. It's embarrassing to drag her along, when the whole world knows we both want out." Madelyn smirked, skeptical.

"Oh, you both want out? Is that it?" Homelander shot her a murderous glare. Madelyn raised her hands.

"Alright, point taken. But... it's just like I've said before: The Seven needs-"

"What about what I need, huh? Me!" Homelander took her hands in his. The gesture was something he'd picked up from her, something that swayed him when he felt rebellious. He looked into her eyes, the plea etched into his forehead.

"I thought you cared," he muttered, drawing back. She leaned in.

"Of course I do," she murmured. "I just... you know how important your image is to Vought. You can't just leave your girlfriend, a member of the Seven, for the Senior Vice President of Hero Management. That is not a good look!"

"Why do you care so much about what they think!"

"Why don't you? This is your brand, after all." 

Homelander ran his hands through his hair. "Y'know... that fallback of yours... It's getting old." He stepped closer to Madelyn and looked down into her. 

"Tell me how you really feel," he said lowly. Whether his tone was meant to be intimate or threatening, she couldn't tell. She pursed her lips, deliberating - and then made her move.

"I feel... hurt," she said, turning away from him to collect her bag from the couch. "Everything that I do... is for you. All of it - believe it or not." Homelander looked at her, eyes narrowed. That had not been the expected reaction. 

"I stay up on 86, dealing with those assholes... for you. I work overtime - for you." She was almost at the door, Homelander noted with worry.

"Wait!" he called. He curled his hand into a fist. Damn it. Madelyn raised a brow, turning toward him.

"Every talking point," Madelyn said slowly, hand lingering on the doorknob, "every appearance you make - even down to the fabric of your suit. It's all part of my plan, to make your life easier. You go through enough as it is... so why would I add to the stress, by embroiling you in a scandal? Especially now?" She opened it slightly, the sliver of outside glaring to his eyes.

Homelander furrowed his brow, looking away sharply before striding towards her, hand outstretched. "I know that," he said, voice softer. He took her free hand in his. There was still time to save this, Homelander thought, eyes locked on the way her hand curled around the knob. If he could just find the right combination of words - pleas, even... he could make her stay, make her take her hand off the doorknob and come back to the couch with him.

But the words wouldn't come - and the moment passed, breezing past him and through the opened door.

"You don't need to protect me," he said instead, trying to catch her eye. Madelyn looked beyond him.

"That's very easy to say, while you still have my protection."

She tightened her grip on the doorknob, swinging it open with an air of finality. "I'll be working late tonight. Don't wait up," she said, turning her back to him and exiting smoothly. Homelander watched her go, storm brewing in his eyes.

Your footsteps echoed in the night as you stalked on your path, hands buried in your pockets. But you refused to turn back now; a moment in the cold would do you good. You needed a break from your apartment; the sweat from your bedsheets still lingered in the air, you felt, even after your bath. And that damned picture of him still waited behind your eyelids, ready for you each time you closed your eyes. You gritted your teeth, and shouldered on against the cold. 

It was as if his presence all but permeated your home. He was on the billboard across the street from your apartment; on every other commercial and show in your house. Work buzzed with news about him - how close you all were to taking him down; how brilliant it had been that you'd been there, when you'd been. You took the praise in stride, though internally, you felt the vague stirrings of disgust, of unease.

You'd been there because you were staying late - researching him again. Where he'd show up next, and for how long. His connections. His patterns. You scoffed.

Had it been a stroke of luck, or misfortune, that he'd happened to show up that night? You couldn't be sure - because now, what had been a quietly simmering coal had become a fully fledged flame. It had been too much, perhaps to see him - to see him leave, when you'd caught him - and now the need to recapture him again burned you from within. 

But this would have to end, you thought, your smile cold as the air around you. He had set this fire, burnt you alive... but you would be extinguished soon enough - with his blood. You kept your head down, ruminating, until the worn sidewalk gave way to a new, paved walkway - and you raised your head. You were here.

You'd be hard-pressed to find your way inside Vought Tower, granted, especially considering your role in Homelander's indictment... but it wasn't as if the entire building was off-limits to the public. They had a coffee shop, a restaurant or two... it wouldn't be far-off if you went inside, and had a coffee. The baristas wouldn't know who you were. Shaking off the cold, you stepped inside, the chill leaving you at the door.

"Could I do... an Americano, please? Double shot, with caramel and cream?" you asked the barista. 

"Add in my usual, Jamie. Put it on my tab."

You froze. Homelander chuckled.

"Long way from your neck of the woods, aren't you?" he said leisurely, stepping past you to pay for the drinks. "And...  it's a little late to be showing up for a tour of the Tower." He turned to face you, mischief dancing in his eyes. "Naughty, naughty..." he chided, wagging his finger.

"It's far past your bedtime, I bet. Far past, well, anyone's bedtime... but especially yours. You've got a case to win; can't have you falling asleep in the court room, now, can we?"

You clenched your fists at your sides, brain firing off responses - each of them failing to move past your lips. 

"Oh, don't go cold on me now," Homelander teased. "You had so much to say the last time we met." You wrenched your gaze to his, trying to keep yourself in check.

"This isn't-"

"What it looks like?" Homelander grinned, taking the drinks from the bar. He held yours out to you, chuckling when you made no move to take it. He clicked his tongue, setting his cup down before taking your hand and uncurling it, curling your fingers around the cup before taking his again.

"I'm curious," he continued, sipping from his drink, watching you over the rim of the cup, "What do you think... it looks like, then?"

"Homelander -" you started, only to be interrupted by his laugh. He held up a hand, reveling in the moment.

"Me? That can't be right," he said, eyes dancing. "Because I'm exactly where I should be. I think it's you who's in the wrong here, sweetheart." 

"It's not a crime to enter Vought Tower during business hours!" you snapped, folding your arms around yourself. The drink was warm against your side. You pulled away, setting it on a nearby table. "And I don't want that anymore."

Homelander dropped his smile. "No..." he conceded. "But it is strange. You, the key witness, in a case against me... showing up to Vought, in the middle of the night... I could have Stan here in ten minutes. And then what would you do?"

He took a step closer, watching as you took a step back. "You know... you've made quite the mess for me, here at Vought. The court has been very insistent about pushing this case along... so insistent, in fact, that we were due for our little date a week from now."

"I didn't make any mess. You broke the law-"

"But now... I wonder what they'll have to say, in light of this information?" You blanched, despite yourself.

"What... information?" Homelander cocked his head.

"Well... that you've been stalking me, of course."

Your blood ran cold. 

"What are you talking about," you breathed. Homelander raised his eyebrows, giving you a grin.

"What a reaction," he said between laughter. "It must be true! Look at you - you're quaking!" He leaned in.

"And listen... to the little pitter patter of your heart."

You pushed hard against his chest, tried to shove him back - but he only laughed, amusement turning his smile nasty as he looked you over.

"Oh, stop that! You know better," he chided. He kept his position for a moment longer, before stepping back. You avoided his gaze.

"Anyway... I'm not here to stop you," he said, hands on his hips. You narrowed your eyes.

"Really!" he said. "You're out of line, no doubt... but you're also... out of moves."

"What makes you say that?" you asked, keeping your eyes on him. "You have no idea why I'm here. Maybe I've done what I came here to do." Homelander rolled his eyes.

"Maybe you have," he agreed. The wolfish grin returned. "But I doubt that. In fact, something tells me you're at quite the disadvantage here." He pulled up a chair and took a seat, waving you over. You deliberated, before joining stiffly.

"Good girl," he said. You shot him a glare, which he answered with a grin.

"So. Here's what's going to happen. I tell my people that we've got a stalker problem. We take that to the court, and whoops! Bye-bye, credibility! Or... you make a deal, and you run home safe."

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, digging your nails into your palms. 

"Fuck you," you spat. Homelander smiled, leaning in. You didn't have another choice but to listen, to take whatever deal he was proposing - but that didn't mean you had to lay down quietly. You jerked your head upward.

"I... am going to eviscerate you in court," you spoke slowly, savoring each word as they left your mouth. "Vought has no reason, whatsoever, to stall this case - and trying again will only make this harder for you. I suggest that you let this go, and let me leave - otherwise, it will get ugly." Homelander raised a brow, snorting.

"For you, maybe," he replied, leaning back. "Because, sweetie, here's the thing. That's not how leverage works. You're on my turf. You walked into my house. You lost the game; now... you play by my rules." Homelander eyed you from under his lashes.

"Abstein is a little law firm," he added. "Wouldn't take much to bankrupt you, if I really wanted to. You're lucky I feel like playing nice today."

"Just get to the point already," you snapped. "What's your deal." Homelander waved a hand at you.

"Somebody's impatient," he teased. He sat up now, hands resting on the table.

"My deal... is that we work together. You drop this silly case against me... and Vought extends a hand to the little guy. Your whole firm's schtick is standing up for the underdog, right?" He spread his arms out.

"That... sounds a little bit like hero's work... wouldn't you say?" You scoffed.

"You're far from being a hero," you muttered, crossing your arms. Your mind wheeled, searching for a way out of this mess.

"I'm saving you," he quipped, pointing a finger in your direction.

"And why is that," you said, glaring. 

"Well... it's obvious, isn't it?" Homelander winked. You looked at him, annoyed, waiting.

"You're one of my biggest fans."

That did it; you launched yourself from the seat, the clatter echoing in the empty dining area, and marched for the door. No matter how bad this was, there had to be a way out that didn't involve... this. The humiliation scalded your face, burning you even as you wrenched the door open and met the chill of the outside air. 

"You won't get a shot like this again!" Homelander called to you. Your hand stilled on the knob.

"Think about it," he continued. He rose from his place, bringing your drinks with you, and floated by your side. "If you walk, Vought won't pull any punches... and Abstein wouldn't hesitate to toss you. I mean - trying to stake me out? Like some amateur? Even you couldn't blame them if they cut you loose for that."

You seethed as his words washed over you, the bite of the cold making you shiver in place - though, deep inside, you recognized their truth. Homelander continued, watching the resolve fade from your eyes.

"We'll serve you up all the bad Supes you could ever dream of," he crooned, leaning down, whispering into your hair. "The PR from that alone? Would be more than you could muster up in a year's worth of 'investigating' ". You jerked away from him.

"I don't need your patronage," you muttered. Homelander chuckled.

"Oh, no?" he asked. "Because it looks like you might." He offered you your drink, waiting until you snatched it up. You grit your teeth, the deal swirling in your mind. Jackie would be furious; you were furious. But walking out now would only mean throwing away everything you'd worked for - whereas a strategic retreat would give you time to regroup. 

And, besides... it was like he'd said, as much as you hated to admit: Homelander had the leverage. 

"This doesn't mean I'm giving up," you muttered, clenching the cup in your hand. 

Homelander took a sip from his cup, smirking down at you. "Well, I hope not. This is the most fun I've had all year!" And with that, he knocked his cup gently against yours, and winked.

"Cheers!" he grinned, savoring the way your eye twitched in response. Soon, though, he dropped his smile, and the empty look was back. He stared you down coldly, the light vanished from his eyes. You fought back the shiver that trilled through you. 

"Now... you should be heading off," Homelander said, opening the door wider.

"I'll send for you when I want to meet again."

[midnight-mourning]

DCA Promptober Day 17: Found

I suggest reading Day 15 prior to reading this one, as they're connected. Do as you please though ^-^

Content warning: small injury mention

Word count: 1290

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

The staff hallways are darker and more difficult to navigate than you remember. Course, when you're trying to move as quickly and silently as possible, it doesn't make things easier that's for sure. Last you checked the time it was around midnight, right when your shift should have started. Maybe if you'd chosen to come in now instead of earlier, you wouldn't be stuck in your current situation. 

A loud screeching sound echoing down the hall makes you flinch, but you ignore it. You already know it's Moon in the vents, trying to scare you. And succeeding. 

He's too big to fit through the grates however. That much you're mostly sure of. So you keep moving so that he at least can track where you are and find the opportunity to corner you. 

You try to rack your brain for where Connor and Garcia might be. El Chip had been a lucky guess for Rhoades, and if either of them are injured like he is, was, chances are they aren't thinking straight. Which means you need to move faster. 

You're still processing all of this, you don't understand why this is happening, why Moon's doing this to you all. Last you checked, none of the guards had a grudge against any of the animatronics. You know you didn't. Especially not the Daycare Attendant. They were harmless! Or at least, you'd thought they were. 

But still, they might've been a bit unnerving, especially the yellow one, but you'd thought Moon was sweet despite his outward appearance. You'd chat every now and then on your shift. Briefly, sure, but you'd enjoyed it. And what he said back there, about tricks. You haven't done anything to trick him, not that you're aware of.

You don't know whether it's a blessing or a curse when your radio crackles to life.

A whispering voice is on the line, "H-hey. Anyone there? Anyone, still, a-alive?" 

Connor. 

"Yeah, yeah I'm here, Tom," You answer, quiet as you can be. 

There's a pause, then a groaned chuckle, "Damn, we'd all thought you'd slept in late. Could've been, fuck, spared the trouble."

You try to huddle into a doorway to help muffle your voice, "Don't tell me he got you too, Tommy. Thought you were a track star?"

You aren't sure if the joke lands at first, but you're desperate to try and soothe the kid in some way. 

"Ah, just barely. He got lucky; I wasn't warmed up yet. But wait, did you also manage to skate by?"

"I-" You bite your lip, and shake your head, "Yeah, yeah I did." There was no point in bogging him down about Rhoades, would just make things worse. 

Tommy says a quiet 'Fuck yeah!' before speaking to you directly again, "You somewhere safe? I think if we can make it to morning it'll be okay. But if we can find the others before then I think we'll be better off."

Your heart twists at that, but again, it's better he doesn't know. You'd rather not send the 19-year-old into a panic attack. 

"Not exactly, but-"

A loud, very close screech interrupts you. That was right above your head. You stay motionless, too afraid to turn around. 

He can't get to you, he can't get to you, he can't get to you-

Another screech, and then a ripping sound. 

Just twisting slightly, you're shocked to see a blue claw poking out from the vent along a large slash line. The claw disappears then reappears to cut a parallel gash to the other one. 

He's making an opening. 

You need to run. 

You bolt down the corridor, booking it to where you think there's an opening back out into the atrium. Connor says something over the radio you're pretty sure, but you can hardly think over the sound of your breathing. 

There's a clattering crash somewhere behind you, followed by the jingling of several bells. It makes you move that much faster.

You make turn after turn, struggling to not lose your way in the dark and not lose yourself to fear as you come to the horrifying realization that Moon is gaining on you.

You'd have thought his height would be deliberating in this enclosed space, but you thought wrong it seemed. 

You don't realize how close he is until a hand grazes your shoulder. 

You shriek, turning while running to defend yourself. At the same time, you miss that you were about to turn the corner and slam into the wall. Shaking your head, you quickly back into a nearby doorway, whipping out your taser and pointing at the bot looming over you. 

He stares down at you, unmoving save for the rotating of his faceplate. 

Is he buffering? What's he waiting on? What does he want?

"Hey, you cut out. Maybe it's the signal, hard to tell in this stupid place." Your eyes and Moon's snap to your walkie that lays abandoned on the floor beside you. 

Tommy speaks up again, "If you do hear this, I'm gonna try and make my way back to the security office. See if I can't get eyes on the others. Worth a shot at least."

You flick your eyes up to Moon as he starts to chuckle.

You snatch up the radio, "Tom stay where you are, it's not safe-" 

Suddenly you're no longer holding the black box. A blue hand now wraps around it as the naptime attendant glares down at you. 

He wags his finger, "Naughty, naughty. That's cheating."

You hope that Tom heard you. You hope to god he stays put. 

"What'd you say? Couldn't make it out."

Your heart drops. 

He says your name a few times before you can only watch with dread as Moon crushes the radio in his hand. It falls to the ground in several pieces.

You back further into the door behind you, shaking your head, "No. No, no, no. Please. Do whatever you want to me, just don't hurt the kid. Please, I'm begging you."

A curious twist of his faceplate. Then suddenly, he lurches down toward you, coming eye to eye. You whimper and close your eyes, waiting for the worse. 

Moon snickers.

There's a poke to your face and you make another noise, flinching as your squeeze your eyes shut tighter.

"Found you~" He giggles, "You're not very good at hiding, Little Star."

He's toying with you now. You dare to crack open an eye. 

Moon's gaze is thin crescents as he pokes you again, then pinches your lips between his fingers. With him being this close, you can see there's a purple static over his optics. 

You swallow, "I, I guess not."

"Tell you what," He tilts his head, "One more chance, hm?"

He releases you, standing tall.

"What, what about, Tom?"

Moon growls, then chuckles, "Twenty minutes this time. Make them count."

Then he's gone, and you're left alone in the dark.

Again.

You sit up, running a hand through your hair. He's giving you an out, a chance. But you refuse to take it, you're not leaving Connor to die. Not like you did with Rhoades. 

As you stand, you go to feel your shoulder for the injury that's surely there and your adrenaline just hasn't let you register yet.

Imagine your surprise when your hand makes contact with warm cotton. 

Huh. But you could've sworn-another head shake. You need to find Connor, the two of you need to find Garcia, and all three of you need to survive.

Moon can play his games; you have other plans.

And somewhere, rapidly moving through the Plex in search of an unsuspecting security guard, a bot's internal timer clicks down from twenty to nineteen.

Tick tock.

Make it count.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

so ummmm, it's gonna be a three-parter guys. I'm sorryyy, I'm just having a lot of fun with this storyline and have it like, all planned out and keep thinking i'll get to my stopping point sooner than I actually am. Not to worry, it'll be one of the next couple of days of the prompts. Speaking of prompts, here's my responses to the others if you haven't seen them, thanks for reading!

[not-krys]

[Repost] Deep in Thought - Abby & Mozart

Part of this set of WIP Wednesdays!

It's only recently occurred to me that Abby and Mozart are sort of birthday siblings (her's is the 24th of January, while Mozart's is the 27th), so in celebration of this realization, I wanted to write a little something for the two of them. Fun fact! Before deciding to want to make her an artist, for her initial concept, I had Abby be a singer instead, inspired by a threesome story in-game with Mozart and Jean. The idea fell through in the end, but I like to keep the Abby is a singer on the backburner of ideas for her and also why she and Mozart somewhat get along, even if it might just be in the background.

Raw, unedited writing down below. Abby is a lil self-deprecating as she has little confidence in herself and her thoughts will reflect that. Also my first time writing Mozart, so his character might be little off. I also copy-pasted the lyrics to the song Abby sings from a lyrics website and the song is in German, which is another language I don't speak, but they are available to look up if you want.

-----

He was behind me. He was behind me again! The silence from the music room should have been my tip that something was up, but I thought he'd given up by now!

"You." His cold voice startled me, my hands squeezing the poor broom handle to the point of choking, it felt like.

Slowly, very slowly, I turned around to face Mozart, his arms crossed and his elegant brows furrowed. I think even his mole was judging me with the way he was staring.

"Y-yes?" Why did my voice have to come out like that!?

"Music room. Now."

What have I done to deserve this!?

My shoulders shook, feebly holding up my broom taller.

"I-I have chores to-"

"Do them later." Mozart was firm! "Tell Sebastian that I needed you for something."

"Y-yes, sir." I said meekly.

Mozart turned on his heel and headed back into the music room. I followed behind him, trying to keep my movements as quiet as I could. He's told me before that he thought I was loud, and, not wanting to irritate him further, I did my best to be silent. It was easy on the carpeted floor of the hallway, but marble floor of the music room, with no rugs to muffle sound? I felt exposed in a different sort of way, the green walls even feeling intimidating.

Mozart sat at the piano bench, an elegant piece made of white wood and gold accents, flipping out his coat tails to sit more comfortably.

"Leave your broom by the door."

I nodded, setting my once close companion against the door's frame, cradling it with my hands.

"Come closer."

I shuffled closer to the piano, my steps unbearably loud in this space. Was my heart as loud in this room as it was in my ears, I wondered. It wouldn't be surprising if Mozart said I was being loud again and it was my own racing heart he was hearing.

"You were singing the other day while you were cleaning in the room next door to the music room."

He could hear that!?

"S-sorry if I disturbed-"

"It was a song I wrote. Long ago."

His fingers glided gracefully across the keys, playing a familiar melody.

"Y-yes. An Chloë. You wrote it inspired by the poem, right?"

"Correct." He continued to play, seeming to get lost in thought. "Where did you learn it?"

"My auntie." I started, but corrected myself. "Well, one of her previous girlfriends taught it to me when I was young. She always sang it beautifully and I wanted to learn it too, despite knowing no German then."

She was nice, from what I remember of her, Auntie's German girlfriend. Father didn't like her and often got into arguments with Auntie over her. I was really young at the time, so I don't remember exactly what became of her, but I didn't see her after a time and I remembered missing her when she went away.

"Sing it again."

"E-excuse me?!" Say what now?

"Sing it." He repeated, starting the melody over as if it was looping, it was that smooth of a transition.

"I-"

He glanced back my way, as if to say he's not repeating it a third time.

With a brief pause in the music to signal my cue, I took a breath and closed my eyes, praying that whatever came out didn't sound like a screeching cat.

"Wenn die Lieb' aus deinen blauen, Hellen, offnen Augen sieht…"

It was as if a spell was taking over me, remembering a simpler time with Auntie and her German girlfriend at the time. I felt calmer. I know I was butchering the German pronunciation, horribly so, I'm sure. Mozart didn't stop playing though, nor did he say anything to correct me. I tapped my fingers against my leg to keep time, to keep from intruding on the song any more than I already was.

When the song ended, the room was deathly silent.

Mozart, for the first time I've seen him doing it, closed the lid across the keys and stood up.

"Ugh, noisy."

I froze and bit my lip. He was the one who asked (okay, he demanded!) that I come with him here, so  what was the point in-

Then, I heard it.

Applause.

One set of hands at first, then two, three, four more. The more clapping I heard, the redder my cheeks became.

"You're all lurking." Mozart said, irritated. "Move."

I caught eyes with Le Comte standing in the doorway, along with Napoleon, Vincent, Theo, Arthur, Issac, Dazai, and Sebastian all gathered behind him. Le Comte was the last to stop his clapping.

"My, what a lovely performance." He said, his entrance allowing the others to come into the music room as well. I could see the ends of Leonardo's overcoat sleeves sitting just off of the door, while Jean was leaning against the far window with his arms crossed in the hallway.

"You did well, Nunuche." Napoleon squeezed my shoulder, smiling proudly.

"Well, who knew our little dove could sing like that?" Arthur tapped my other shoulder while Theo ruffled my hair.

With all of the compliments I was receiving, my desire to crawl into a pit and hide for eternity grew. Mozart huffed as he stood at the doorway.

"Should have shut the door." he grumbled as we walked down the hallway, kicking Leonardo's coat sleeve out of his way.

[hermesserpent-stuff]

(Accidental nephew AU) so, nwh home happens. Peter is erased from everyone’s mind. He reaches out to the sinister six, subtly cause he’s still ✨deeply traumatized and thinks everyone is better off which out him✨ who are now hitting very hard and going for kill shots like before.

He be delirious from blood loss and sleep deprivation and like the effects of not having a job or place to live with no record of your existence shows up at Montana’s apartment. Now they realize something’s off after he, tries to, drag himself away after they respectfully freak the fuck out. Montana being the holder of the singular brain cell, brings Pete into the bathroom and stitches him up, which triggers his memories. Or however else you want the memories to come back, maybe Pete manages to leave which causes them to investigate his identity yada yada cue the horror and fluff.

You can do whatever you want with this, this is a cool funky thought exercise so yeah, up to you. Sorry that this isn’t a west hope u don’t mind. I’m sorry I’m like so tired rn. Like. Sorry if I came off as rude or whatever, have a nice car ride!

lowkey, was just gonna just jot down thoughts but then it became a short. Whoops.So obviously the Mcu thing can’t happen the same way, but I vaguely recall Peter making a deal with a demon in a comic that the world would be save from like ending if his wife forgot him. So something similar happened here. No one rembers him. May died in whatever was ending the world that no one recalls. Before poisioned heartbeat for sure

And no! Not rude not at all!! Thank you!

Peter might be dying. Maybe. Ever since the world had forgotten him, everything had been so much worse. Criminals were worse than ever. At least, it felt that way because he knows they could be kind. And now they are trying to kill him again. He misses his uncles. He misses his aunt. He misses clean food and warmth. He misses Aunt May so bad it is a physical ache. He curls up on himself as he sits on a rooftop, stomach chewing at him.

His metabolism hates him. And so does his healing factor everything is so much slower to heal now and more and more scars decorate his skin. He silently chews on his lip. The sound of sirens has him moving despite the ache in his joints and the dirty bandages wrapped infected wounds. But his city needs him. And no one else could do what he could. He would have to force down the pain of not holding back for his uncles. Not his uncles. They don’t remember him. And that is the only way they are safe.

—

Bleeding out and starving are two of Peters least favorite hobbies that he is forced to participate in. The world swims as he stares at his empty first aid kit. He has to find something to wrap up his side. The burns across across his face make him feel half delirious. He stands and creeps out of the condemned building he had taken residence in.

As he moves, rain starts pounding down from the sky. A drumbeat of sorrow against his feverish skin. His fingers slip into his pocket and cling to his keys. Maybe… maybe they would be asleep. Maybe he could sneak in. The fever takes away all rationality as his feet walk a familiar path. Maybe he is just too stupidly desperate to keep going on. He might as well die at the hands of those he knows in a place he loves.

He feels bad that he bloodies the door with his hands as he shakily attempts to put the key in the lock. His fumbling is loud and his ears ring with every tink of metal on metal. He falls into the apartment when the door suddenly opens. He yelps as his decent to the floor is halted by an arm. Peter suddenly recalls this is a terrible idea and starts crying as Montana rights him on his feet.

“Kid?”

Peter sees just about everyone in the room beyond. All of his uncles minus Tombstone. And the weight of being alone for a month snaps his heart in twain. He curls into himself with a muffled sob.

“I’m sorry uncle Montana. I’ll go. I’m sorry. Sorry. Sorrysorrysorry.”

He’s failed. He was supposed to be okay on his own. To be able to make that needed sacrifice. Tears cut across his bruised face as all his uncles just stare. And then Montana straightens and tugs him toward the bathroom.

“Come on son. Nothin to be sorry for. Lets clean you up. Quen, grab some spare clothes outta my room. Dan, get me some ice.”

Peter is too out of it to think of potential ramifications as he is pulled into the bathroom. Montana pauses at the sight of the Spider-Man suit, but then keeps working, hands steady even as his eyes harden. Peter whimpers and cries, but does not try to fight or get away. He is so tired, and so hungry. He knaws on his lip and Montana gently chides him. He finds a spoon full of peanut butter replacing the nervous tick.

Montana leans back after Peter is wrapped and dressed and tilts his head.

“You know me. And have a key to my house little hero. I don’t give those out lightly.”

Peter pulls knees up to his chin. He does not respond to the question directly. All his words are for a man who does not exist anymore. For without memory, are people really the same?

“I missed you. And I knew I would. But I thought I could make it. Save the city and survive alone. But I can’t and I need you unle Montana. But you’re not here anymore. You said I’d always be welcome. But that’s not true. And it’s not your fault it’s not true. I just…”

His words leave him as he is pulled into a hug. He clings tight its his fingers as his nose takes in the smell of earth and metal. For a moment he pretends everything is as it once was.

“Kid… I’m sorry.”

He holds tighter, sure he is going to be sent out again.

“But if I told you were welcome and gave you a key, then your always welcome. Even if my memory is failing me. You need someone in your corner; ain’t right for you to be beaten down and have no body.”

Peter relaxes. Montana gives a gentle squeeze and then speaks again.

“Now, son. What’s your name?”

“Peter. Peter Parker.”

The sound of a distant chime and the smell of brimstone greet his senses and the hug becomes that much tighter.

“Peter! Oh Peter!”

Recognition laces his uncle’s tone. His hair is ruffled and he is pulled closer. He is safe. He is home.

[experthiese]

@dnangelic asked: ' lupin-san! ' lucky, lucky! in the abandoned tunnelway echoing the sounds of police sirens and helicopters, the shadows practically seems to spit the little red-headed boy out. the pen and blank card in his hand might make him seem like a manic journalist transcribing a legendary scoop, but that's obviously not the case given the way he holds both out to the other as they sprint, smaller legs still trained enough to keep up. it's taken careful consideration and all sorts of guesswork every moment between between the announcement of lupin's target until now, the drama of the heist, just to pin down these precious, fleeting seconds. all for the sake of --- ' u-um , an autograph! can i have one?! ' cheeks flush . he can't resist the apparent need to explain himself. ' there's a girl at my school who's kind of a kaitou-nut, and she wanted to collect all sorts of signatures and cards, ' meaning, this sort of endeavor hadn't even been for himself?! ' i --- i really wanted to grant her wish, and this seemed a little more polite than stealing a card of yours somehow, so, um --- !! ' all this talking has him gasping for breath, and he's pretty sure the end of the tunnel and his chance was close by. it was now or never! (not really, because he was a stubborn, absurd sort of boy, who no doubt would have planned another innocent, pestering appearance until he got what he wanted.) lupin above all should have known the operating rules of a phantom thief! ' --- please ?! '

His instinct is to say no. While Lupin loves—craves—the attention his heists bring him, he's never been interested in feeding into the media machine's need to churn out celebrities. Not once has he felt the need to make himself comfortable on the front pages of gossip magazines so poorly made that the ink rubs off on your fingers, nor does he intend to encourage the fans all too eager to push themselves into his presence (and, often, straight into the line of danger).

He's a thief, for crying out loud, not some vapid entity controlled by agents and managers and PR teams! Autographs, pictures, meet and greets... Those aren't things the great Lupin the Third engages with.

But as he looks down to the boy running beside him, valiantly keeping pace despite his subtle attempts to speed up and leave them behind, Lupin feels something in him start to give. Children have always been a bit of a soft spot, even moreso ones driven by pure naivete; so emboldened by their innocence that they'd approach a notorious criminal for the sake of completing a schoolmate's wish. It's cute, almost unbearably so, and his heart's not hardened enough to ignore it.

But actually completing the request is going to be easier said than done. The racket of police sirens and muffled instructions being yelled through a megaphone continues to echo around them, and if he stays in these tunnels for much longer he's sure to come face to face with Zenigata's forces barreling down both ends. Stopping for even a second will scupper his chances at a relatively smooth escape, but the boy's gasping hasn't escaped his notice either. Sprinting full pent for this long would be a challenge even for an adult's lungs, and it's impressive he's kept up as long as he has.

There is, as far as Lupin can see, only one solution.

❝ Lemme lose these guys first, and then we'll see about getting you that autograph. ❞

Daisuke is grabbed and hoisted up until Lupin can hold him. It's not ideal, exactly, but it at least allows him to speed up through the last stretch of tunnel and duck into the shadows awaiting him on the other side. Just as he thought, lines of police cars approach over the horizon to block the exit, and what looks to be a swarm of officers pour into the tunnel mere seconds after his exit from it. That wild goose chase might buy them a few minutes, but he hasn't seen Zenigata yet, and the old man's Lupin Sense™ is second to none. Unless he's angling for yet another short prison stay, he has to keep moving.

One hand rests gently (protectively) against the back of the boy's head. They'll be fine, so long as they tread carefully and stick to the shadows.

❝ Stay quiet and hold on to me. If they spot us, we'll need to make another run for it. ❞

[mxnaluv]

Requesting on anon since I'm a bit shy..

So for the cunning Cavalry Captain, Kaeya Alberich, could we see him in #5, #7, and #9 for NSFW? I feel like despite his pomp he'd crumble if you show him genuine affections. Especially within intimacy

Don't be shy!! I love all requests! And yess I can totally see Kaeya being shy whenever you show him any affection <3

Since it's three prompts, they probably won't be as long, but I will try my best!!

Kaeya NSFW Prompts

MDNI!!! 18+

Warnings: Sexual Themes, Blowjobs, Sexual Tension, Strong Language, Flustered Kaeya, Smut

GN!ReaderxKaeya

#5 "Go easy on me"

"Mmph" Kaeya moaned while covering his mouth. Y/N took their mouth off of Kaeya's cock, making a pop noise, "Don't be too loud Kaeya, or else someone might hear us in your office. You don't want anyone to hear how big of a whore you are, don't you?"

Kaeya nodded his head no before Y/N kissed his tip and then fucked their mouth with his cock. Kaeya's muffled moans and grunts gradually got louder as Y/n put his dick deeper into their throat. He couldn't help but to act out and be loud after he's been treated so well by Y/N.

"Please-" Kaeya whined. Y/N stopped and looked up at him with a smile, "Please what?" they mimicked.

Kaeya moved his hand and his voice shook as he spoke "P-Please, just go easy on me"

#7 "You want to touch my {blank?}"

Y/N woke up to see Kaeya buttoning up his shirt, and getting ready for work. They sat up and looked at Kaeya, wishing that he could stay at home with them for at least a day.

Kaeya looked over at them and smiled, "Good morning y/n. Is there any particular reason that you're staring at me today?" he teased. Y/N looked down at his shirt then looked back up at him, "Can I...touch your chest?"

Kaeya's face turned a deep red as he became flustered, "You want to touch my chest?"

"Can I?" Y/N asked. Kaeya stumbled over his words, "S-Sure." Y/N got up from the bed and stood before him. They lightly grazed their hand over his exposed chest. Kaeya's breath hitched and looked away from how shy he was.

Y/N pulled his face to look towards them, then kiss his lips softly before pulling away and walking towards the bed. Before Y/N could lie down, Kaeya grabbed them by their waist, turned them back around, and crashed his lips onto theirs.

Kaeya then broke away from the kiss then looked deep into their eyes while breathing heavily "I'm sure Jean wouldn't mind if I'm a little late today."

#9 Character(s) thoughts about you

Kaeya's late-night thoughts about you could range from how he can make you happy, maybe with gifts, or bringing you on adventures with him. But then his thoughts turn into how good you would look underneath him, or what noises you would make if he...

He usually tries to stop his thoughts before they go any further, but he often feels flustered whenever those thoughts come into his mind.

His thoughts about you are usually never impure until he sees how good you look wearing his clothes, or how good you look while fighting and out of breath. His thoughts start to wander into dangerous territory, but he never lets them go any further, unless...you want them to.

Kaeya would never think about you in that way till your ice cream date with him. You intentionally looked at him as you ate the ice cream slowly. A deep blush appeared on his face when he realized what you were doing. That's when the thoughts start up again. But he would NEVER let it go any farther than his thoughts on what it would look like if it was his cock instead of the ice cream.

Unless....

AN: I had a lot of fun writing this! Thank you again for the request! Also if you have sent a rq, I will get to them as soon as possible! I have many rq that I need to get to and I am trying my best to get to them all 😭😭. But if anyone has any questions about the prompts or about the requests, then feel free to dm me!

ANN: I will have a masterlist soon of all the fics i've done!

[genshinboys]

Thigh job with Genshin boys - Zhongli

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Fem reader x Zhongli

Knock-Knock-Knock

You are standing in front of the door to Zhongli’s office at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour. Upon knocking, you open the door and peek inside only to see the Archon seated at his desk and hunching over some documents. His form relaxes the moment his eyes cast upon your persona.

„Can I come in?” you ask politely knowing very well that Zhongli would never be capable of saying no to you.

He puts aside the pen that was previously tightly squeezed in the palm of his hands. Eyes glistening and his facial expression a tell-tale sign of excitement which he promptly attempts to hide going back to the customary for him calm facade.

Immovable as a rock and yet his world was shaken the moment you waltzed into it.

Zhongli doesn’t mind though and he revels in the way you made everything the Archon thought he knew to go to rack and ruin.

So, he finds himself inviting you and wreaking more havoc in his hitherto impassive and emotionless millenniums of existence.

„Oh, by all means, please do,” he responds courtly. He straightens up in his armchair gesturing to his lap.

You smile knowingly.

Zhongli but adores having you in his lap. The way your soft body fits in there is glorious and the lord of Geo could narrate hundreds of stories about the marvel of you being sat on his thigh tightly pressed into his sturdy physique.

It is his way of unwinding after a long day or taking a break from work. He would find solace and relaxation with you next to him. It becomes habitual and it just occurs naturally. When he sips his tea, scans through documents, reads a book or wants to tell you some of the stories from his past. You sit on his lap and everything falls into place.

He loves the control this setting gives him and the fact that he can easily do whatever he deems fit when your body is conveniently at his disposal.

And you wouldn’t say no. Whatever his intentions are.

So you come over to the handsome god and with a loud scoff unceremoniously land on his lap while wrapping your arms around his neck.

„What’s the matter my dearest?” he furrows his brows but the little crooked smile doesn’t escape your notice. Zhongli can’t help himself, he thinks that you’re just too adorable and pure for this world.

„Oh, Zhongli!” you cry out, „That little bastard Venti stood m-,”

He clears his throat and gives you a reprimanding glare, „Language my little girl.”

You roll your eyes at his antics and wiggle your butt successfully shifting your position so that your whole weight is now on Zhongli’s right thigh and your legs are hanging in the air on the other side of the armchair. He wraps a protective arm around your middle while his free hand starts caressing your uncovered leg, so nicely exposed by the skirt of your choice.

So once you feel all snug and comfortable you continue dramatically, „Zhongli, but he really stood me up! I needed his help with one commission and I found him as drunk as a skunk. He was so sloshed he fell asleep in the tavern and Kaeya had to escort him home!”

„Is that so?” he cocks an eyebrow but he isn’t surprised at all.

„Yes! I wasted so much time because of this motherf-,”

Zhongli shoots you another look of disapproval and you just smile apologetically.

„He’s never been good at holding his liquor, my Dear,” he states the obvious more preoccupied with the way the plump flesh of your thighs reddens when he squeezes it with his leather-clad hand. He allows himself to roam a bit higher and the skirt does little to prevent his movement.

„Dear,” he says as his lips approach your earlobe, „Have you by any chance forgotten to put on underwear yet again?”

You really love Zhongli’s voice. His low rumbles, deep and husky sounds from the back of his throat always give you goosebumps.

And so this time, you shudder in his embrace like a leaf in the wind.

„No, of course I didn’t,” you respond in your defence.

„Mind if I see?” he asks and pushes your skirt out of the way revealing your naked bum.

He clicks his tongue, feeling you up with his long fingers. The gloves he is wearing create nice friction as he strokes your skin.

„I might have forgotten after all,” you admit even if reluctantly.

Zhongli is a patient man. Throughout the centuries he has learned to remain cool and composed despite the most arduous and trying of times. He would have never guessed that this quality of his would so often come in handy when graced with your presence.

„Pray-tell my Dearest, so you did come here, parading around the streets of my city with no decency in your soul left, only to sit in my lap with your bare bottom?”

This question sounded more like an accusation and was rather rhetorical.

You shrug your shoulders for lack of any better excuse.

The archon takes a deep breath and digs his fingers into the meat of your ass.

„You enjoyed yourself last time, no?” you make a point to remind the lord of Geo of your last visit to his office.

„So vulgar,” he criticizes gazing down and marvelling how your smooth skin contrasts with the material of his black slacks. You would often stain them with your juices when the Archon opts for something more than just telling you stories with you in his lap.

„I trust you know what to do, Love,” he adds once again locking his eyes with yours and then kisses your forehead fondly.

You chuckle having no intentions to make the god wait any longer.

You let your hands slide down to his crotch and unbuckle the belt helping Zhongli get his erection out of the tight black slacks. At times like this, you would internally curse the Archon for his strict dress code but it can’t be helped. Zhongli is as stubborn as a mule when it comes to certain customs.

His cock springs free and you bite your lip openly admiring the ex-Archon. It never ceases to thrill you. His shaft is thick and painfully long with popping veins and a swollen tip. He is just so enormously big it intimidates you. You briefly wonder if it has anything to do with him being a half-dragon and you shudder at the thought mentally taking a note to ask him about that next time he places you in his lap.

Zhongli’s heartbeat quickens when you teasingly stroke his impressive girth, your lips finding his and you crash them together hungrily.

He hums in delight when you slide your thumb over the tip of his penis. You break the kiss and flash a cute grin at your immortal lover.

„I want to please you with my thighs,” you inform him matter-of-factly at which he nods somehow too quickly to match his typical indifferent attitude.

„You spoil me, my little one,” he praises in an erotic timbre and his eyes widen when you lift yourself from his lap and turn around.

„Hold my waist, will you?” you ask for some assistance placing your hands on both sides of the chair.

„Certainly, so,” he obliges.

So with some help on his side, you elevate your bum and reach for his hardened cock to delicately insert it between your warm-to-the-touch thighs. Experimentally, you lift yourself up and then push down letting his erection slide between your legs in a smooth motion. You make sure to smudge the leaking pre-cum all over his shaft so that the Archon doesn’t feel any discomfort.

„How does that feel Zhongli?” you ask glancing behind your back only to see his already fucked-out stare which makes your chest swell in adoration.

His lips are parted and eyes half-closed as he holds onto your waist the way you asked him to.

„Absolutely marvellous, my Dear. Please, do continue, hmm?” he encourages albeit struggles to reply.

You carry on stroking him like that, sometimes pressing your thighs a little tighter and he groans as quiet as he possibly can. Zhongli would despise being caught by Hu-Tao when you rub his cock so expertly.

The pace you decide to torture Zhongli with is sickeningly slow and he’s had enough of playing around for today.

You let out a muffled cried when the Archon grabs you even tighter and forces you down on his dick. He repeats the motion in an animalistic tempo taking pride in the way your ass bounces up and down in front of his eyes.

„Zhongli!” you plead as you feel your legs going numb.

„Bear with me a little longer, Love” he coos.

Your whole body hurts and your arms feel as if they were going to give out any moment.

Fortunately, Zhongli isn’t going to last much longer as the pleasure mixed with pain make him approach the brink he so much desires. With one final thrust and a guttural moan he releases and you can feel his hot load on the inner side of your thighs. Some drops of cum land on your lower belly and face. It’s so messy and you feel how your walls contract around nothing in feverish excitement.

He helps you go back to your previous position with his arms now tightly wrapped around your exhausted body. He enjoys the slight twitching of your weary muscles. He reaches for your chin and forces you to face him.

„Home?” you ask in a desperate plea for him to return the favour. Your body aching for his touch.

„Home,” Zhongli agrees, as indeed, the Archon is unable to turn down any of your wishes.

Other boys:

Albedo

Xiao

Diluc

Kaeya

Childe

Kazuha

[kiridarling]

𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐞𝐤𝐮, 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐨

𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔.

→ Okay. Izuku Midoriya? A sadist.

→ And you've been a brat all day, because he's been busy fighting crime as a newly debuted pro hero, and you can't help it if Izuku's new suit fits him a little too well.

→ And of course, the one day he finally has time to take you on a date you two go to the mall, only to be swarmed with thousands of Pro Hero Deku fans buzzing with requests for photo's and autographs and other bullshit and you just want to clobber them in the head and spit the ugly truth in their faces—that at the end of the day, their lovely Deku comes home to you, and sleeps next to you, and the fact that they can steal his attention away from you is absolutely outrageous. Blasphemy.

→ So naturally, you start acting up. You roll your eyes at the next fan who asks you to take the picture and you scoff at the next fan that announces their love. You pile them on, offense after offense, and by the time you get into the car, Izuku's practically vibrating with anger.

"Say one word and I'm bending you over the hood."

→ Oh.

→  Needless to say, you're squirming the whole ride; though you're unsure if it's from his words, the dead silence, or the tight grip Izuku has on your thigh but either way, the trip back home feels painfully long.

→ The second you two get through the door, he's cornering you into the living room and bending you over the arm of the couch without a second thought, big hands yanking your hips back so your ass sticks out just the way he likes it.

"Bratty doll...you wanted my attention that bad, huh?”

→ Izuku exaggerates every other word with a harsh spank that has you whimpering behind a bitten lip. Though eventually, he deems your muffled moans not enough and aggressively yanks your bottoms off,  stuffing his fingers into your mouth.

→ Once they're wet enough, he slides a finger in, (because no matter how angry he is, you’re still his baby). But once you're ready? It's game over.

→ You figured Izuku was going to be a tease about it, but once he sits you on his cock and doesn't move, it has you squirming in confusion. What the hell could he be waiting for?

"Awe, what's the matter, doll? Did you want me to move?"

→ The hold his hands have on your waist is tight enough that you can't even twitch your hips—and the grip only gets tighter the more you wiggle in protest. Izuku tuts, landing a slap to your bruised ass that makes one thing clear: You’re not moving.

→ The green-haired bastard turns on the tv, for fucks sake. And has the audacity to pretend like he's paying attention to whatever's on—because it's not like you're paying attention, too preoccupied with the cock in your guts. You can't squirm because something tells you that'll only lengthen the punishment you've been sentenced to, but by the end of the first episode, it's a little hard not to.

→ Izuku caves the second you start begging. Mostly because it was what he was waiting for, but also he's probably struggling worse than you while he watches you whimper and squirm in his lap.

“Fine, doll. Since you waited so patiently, I guess I can make you feel good.”

𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈.

→ 100% your idea

→ And he had absolutely no warning. The Bakusquad decided to hold a movie night in the common room on a random Saturday evening when the dorms were pretty much empty. Katsuki didn't even want to be down there in the first place, but after you winked so prettily and promised he'd get a treat if he came, he didn't grumble nearly as much.

→ But what he didn't know was that you meant right now.

→ Katsuki knew something was up the second you sat in his lap and asked Denki for a blanket—that's rarely your Bakusquad move night cuddle position, plus you're always saying how you never need a blanket because Katsuki runs so warm.

→ And he definitely knew something was up when you started grinding against him, not even ten minutes into whatever shitty action movie Denki and Eijirou convinced the group to watch this time. His hands rush to your hips because if Katsuki Bakugou is anything, he's not a goddamn exhibitionist.

"Oi, the fuck are you doing, dumbass? They're gonna fuckin' see."

→ But as always, you take his words with a grain of salt, already blindly fiddling with the buckle of his belt despite his threats (AKA, I'm gonna fuckin' kill you, you fuckin' heathen). The metal clinks for a second and both of you tense, but it seems no one hears it over the movie, so. You relax.

→ Katsuki does not.

→ You wait for a loud crash from the television speakers and you're sinking down on Katsuki's cock, his teeth tearing into your shoulder as he holds back a moan. Both of you let out a shaky breath when you bottom out.

"W-Well? You gonna fuckin' move or what?"

→ You shake your head.

"No? Fuck."

→ And honestly, all is well until about twenty minutes into the movie. At this point, Katsuki's semi-comatose, eyes half-lidded from the surprisingly peaceful warmth you're both encompassed in. But unfortunately, this peace is disturbed by a rude awakening that comes in the form of none other than Denki Kaminari.

→ All he does is mention how Katsuki looks much too out of it, owing it all to "y/n's juicy caboose," but it has your boyfriend practically rearing on his hind legs in fury either way.

→ In the middle of all the commotion, you take the opportunity to wiggle your hips a bit, rendering the majority of Katsuki's arguments repetitive and ineffective. The bickering blond's shut up once Mina calls for it, and Katsuki returns to whisper-yell threats in your ear again.

"Do you want us to get fuckin' caught? Huh? I ca—fuckin' hell—stop movin’!"

→ But you giggle, having a little too much fun with this. The death grip Katsuki has around your thigh implies he’s closer than you thought, and the moment the action in the movie starts to pick up again, so does the steady roll of your hips.

→ Katsuki practically whimpers into your ear, body shaking with restraint because he lacks the proper space to “put you in your place” or however he wants to put it. You know he’s teetering on the edge when he resorts to something Katsuki Bakugou never does—begging.

“Babe—babe c-c’mon please, I don’t wanna—”

→ Katsuki’s nails dig into your thigh and he shivers as he fills you up, bottom teeth digging into his swollen lip. His quiet moans push you off the edge as well, adding to the mess under the blanket as fake explosions emanate from the tv screen.

→ That was...something.

“I hate you so goddamn much.”

→ You snort, rolling your eyes at his overdramatic ass. But?

“...But that was the hottest sex of my fuckin’ life.”

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀.

→ You and Hanta definitely do this once a month. At least.

→ Getting high with Hanta as your boyfriend is probably one of your favorite things. He's got snacks, cool LED lights, a monitor that constantly plays animal planet while the speakers play lofi. It's an experience.

→ And of course, you two get horny—though sex is a little hard when you're feeling fuzzy. Hanta's a high-functioning stoner but frankly, you're not, and even he gets a little fumbly when it comes down to it. Cockwarming seemed like the only viable option.

→ Half of the time, it's not even that sexual. Watching otters chase each other with his back pressed up against yours as you bask in a familiar warmth that only comes from true human connection is nice. Feeling his lips place butterfly kisses against the column of your neck is nice. Just...being with Hanta is nice.

→ But tonight? Tonight it's definitely sexual.

"So warm, Princess. You know your body does things to me, don't you?"

→ You didn't, but the way he says it definitely makes you believe him, and so does the way he rubs his hands up and down your sides. Hanta bites into your neck and you stifle a moan, balancing yourself on his knees.

→ You jump when his hand ghosts your inner thigh, and he chuckles when you bite your lip, eyes trained on the hand moving between your legs.

"Like it when I rub you like that, Princess? Like it when I turn you into a messy little puddle in my arms, hmm?"

→ You whine and nod, chest shuddering with the threat of an impending orgasm. Hanta curses behind you, the hand holding you steadily by the waist tightening.

"Shit—keep clenching like that and you might make me cum, Princess."

→ Hanta huffs out a laugh but you can hear the genuine implication behind it, can feel it in the pant of his breath against your neck. The thought of making him cum from something so simple has you hurtling towards your orgasm at an alarming speed, nails digging into his forearm as the weight of your marijuana-laced orgasm hits you like a fucking freight train.

→ Hanta moans breathily, eyebrows knitting as his own orgasm catches him by surprise. His hips twitch and it almost sends you flying off his lap but somehow, you don't go tumbling—though you might owe that to the vice grip Hanta has on your hip.

→ You two come down, basking in the gentle blue of the ocean as the chatter from the Australian narrator about the Humpback whales and their baleen teeth fills the room. You move to get up but Hanta whines, hands keeping you still via your waist.

"Lemme stay inside for a bit...'S warm."

[a/n: thanks for stopping by angel, and let me know who you want to see next <3. see you soon!]

—ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴀɴ 𝟷𝟾+ ʙʟᴏɢ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅɴɪ

[giggly-squiggily]

If it's okay, can I request Lee Noelle and Ler Vanessa? It can be headcanons, a fic, or drabble, whatever you want. Maybe Vanessa is teasing Noelle while they're shopping for clothes and she finds out she's ticklish? I just think their sisterly relationship is really cute (I've never really sent in a request before so I'm sorry if I did something wrong or left something out)

Eee, my girlies! I love their dynamic so much! I’ve gotcha covered, anon! :D I mixed in a bit of Noelle x Asta because they’re too cute not to include! :D I hope you like it!

Noelle was in quite the predicament.

The Black Bulls were throwing a party to celebrate recent events, and the resident Water mage had nothing to wear.

Digging through the chess in her room, she tossed bundles of silk and glitter over her shoulder in hopes of finding something fitting for the event. Back home, finding the right outfit was easy- her nobility gave her access to a wide variety of dresses and gems, allowing her to stand out just as brightly as the rest of her siblings.

Granted, she wasn’t a fan of those dresses. Heavy and thick, tied with old painful memories of her siblings mocking her, the eyes that cut through the unbreathable fabric as they judged her for her inability to control her magic.

When she came to the hideout, she made sure to only bring lightweight, breathable dresses and outfits. Still finery, but nothing like what she was forced to wear back then.

That is where we find her now- struggling in search of something fitting the evening. It wasn’t anything major- she doubted anyone would care if she showed up in her usual outfit. It wasn’t them she was trying to impress.

It was Asta.

Short, dorky, obnoxious Asta.

The guy her heart wanted more than anything else.

She couldn’t tell you exactly when she fell- maybe it was when they first met. Maybe it was the warm hand he offered her that day after saving her life, not an ounce of judgment in those green eyes as he smiled. Maybe it was how ambitious he was, despite his reckless behavior. Maybe…it was just him.

And now here she was struggling to find a dress- something not too flashy but with just enough of an effect to make him pause and really see her.

And maybe…

Grabbing a stray dress, she buried her face in it to muffle a scream, shaking her head rapidly. No! No! Don’t even let that thought enter your mind- he’s Dorksta! He’s loud! He’s annoying! He…might never see her as anything.

The thought made her depressed. She let out another sigh.

“Whoa. Clothes on the ground, you’re sighing- the water jug by your bed is shaking-” Vanessa’s sudden voice cut through Noelle’s internal monologue, startling her so badly said jug began to tip. Hadn’t it been for Vanessa’s threads, the floor would be soaked- adding to the already existing mess of Noelle’s life. “What’s wrong, honey?” 

“I’m-” There was no lying. Not with Vanessa. Looking up at the older girl, Noelle started to stand, going for some composure. “I…I’m trying to decide on what to wear. Everything's…not right.” 

Vanessa only hummed, looking around the room. With a flick of her wrist, all the clothes retreated back to the chess, folded neatly as the lid closed. “I see. Well- that makes two of us.” Noelle blinked, and Vanessa smiled. “I spilled wine on my favorite dress, and I don’t have time to get it clean. You’re in need of a new outfit to impress a boy.” She laughed at the blush spreading over Noelle’s cheeks. “Let’s go shopping!”

“Right now?” The water mage could barely get out before Vanessa took her hand, pulling her out of the room and into the ever changing hallways of the hideout.

“Yes, now! The party starts later tonight! We’ve got to hurry before we’re left to our usual getup.” Vanessa winked, something playful in her eyes as they waltzed out the front door, her broom hovering and ready to go. “Ready to fly?”

Noelle didn’t hesitate, heart swelling. “Yes!”

~~~

Dress shopping turned out harder than expected.

“I don’t know…it just…” Noelle turned to look at herself in the mirror, brows furrowing at the dark blue dress flowing around her knees. It fit perfectly, and the color was rich like the ocean at twilight. It made her hair look like moonlight as it fell loose against the back, but still…something about it felt off.

“That’s alright, we can always try a different one.” Vanessa smiled from her spot nearby, her own dress a deep velvety black that made her look like a dark queen. Noelle loved it on her the instant she stepped out, sealing the deal for the older one.

“I suppose…” Vanessa was too kind to say it, but Noelle’s eyes caught the various rejected dresses piling up beside them in their dressing room. This was the sixth, she guessed? No luck at all. “Maybe I’ll just wear something from home. I’m sorry Vanessa, I feel like I’ve wasted your time.”

“What? Nonsense. I’m having a great time!” Vanessa stood up, her smile dropping into a look of concern at the tears filling the younger girl’s eyes. “Oh Noelle, don’t cry. It’s alright- we’ll find you something to wear.”

“I’m sorry.” She wiped at her face, feeling like a child. It was just a dress- she shouldn’t be so hung up on this. “I don’t know what’s wrong- I just…” She shook her head, more tears falling down her cheeks.

“Oh sweetheart.” Vanessa came over, hugging the other close as she ran her fingers through her hair. “I know it’s stressful. Trying to find the one thing that will make you feel good but also impress someone you care about.” She reached down and took Noelle’s face in hand, making her look up. “The important thing is the former. If you feel your best, the rest will follow. If there’s anything a boy like Asta likes, it’s seeing a girl like you shining brightly.”

“But I…I don’t feel my best.” Noelle admitted, pinching at the skirt. “I don’t know why- I just don’t.”

“Maybe it’s not the dress or how you look.” Vanessa thought out loud, tapping her chin. “Both you and it are stunning. Hmm…Got it! You know what a good dress needs? A smile.” The witch grinned. “A bright one that helps accentuate the natural beauty within and makes the whole look that much better. Come on, give it a try!”

“A smile…well, okay.” Noelle tried, pulling her lips up in what she hoped to be a convincing smile. It felt tight and wrong- she immediately let it fall. “It didn’t work.”

“That’s because you need the right motivation.” Vanessa was behind her. Before she could react- ten fingers were dancing along her sides, making her jump and squeal. “Here we go- come on; give me a real smile this time.”

“Ah! Ahehahahhahaha! Vanehehehehehehsahahahha!” The water mage tried to bat her hands away, nearly falling to her knees as Vanessa’s nails scratched along her lower ribs, keeping their focus along her waist. “Dohoohohn’t tihihihickle mehehehehe heheheheheere!”

“Not here? Okay, what about here?” Vanessa kept one hand at her waist while the other shot up to her upper ribs, earning a high pitched shriek. “Oo, is this a bad tickle spot for you, hon? What about here?” Her other hand came around to tickle her belly, making Noelle double over. “Aren’t you a cutie.”

“Plehahahahhase, Vanehahhahhhahahasshahahahahha!” Noelle cried, cheeks red and eyes squeezed shut with mirth. Giving up on trying to remain standing, her knees hit the floor as she curled her arms around her torso, giggles and laughs bouncing off the walls around them. God, this was embarrassing- surely someone was going to hear them.

Yet, she really didn’t mind it. Nor did she mind being tickled- it felt rather nice.

“Aww, whatcha doing down there, cutie pie?” Vanessa teased, kneeling beside her with devilish eyes. “Oh, I see what you want now.” Without much warning, Vanessa gently pushed her, grabbing a now exposed leg. “If I recall, you’re rather ticklish along…here.”

“No, VanessAHAHHHHHA!” Noelle shrieked with mirth as the pink haired witch squeezed her calf, her other hand coming up to scribble beneath her knee. “WAHAHHAHAIT NOT THEHEHHEHERE!”

“You know- I’ve always wondered why you wore those leg warmers.” Vanessa spoke with a smile, her touch just light enough to drive the younger girl crazy. “Very cute with your outfit, and effective in hiding your worst tickle spots? Clever girl.” She gave the front of Noelle’s knee a squeeze, nearly getting a kick to the chest. “Whoa, careful now!”

“STAHAHHAHAP IT PLEHAHHAHAHAHHAHSE!” Noelle cried out, face flushed and eyes wet with fresh tears. Her laughter was fading in and out, going near silent when Vanessa dragged her nails down the back of her calf.

“Hehe, alright.” Eventually, the older girl let her be, giggling as Noelle curled in herself like a cat, gasping for breath as she guarded her legs. “Feeling better?”

Noelle tried to glare, but the smile on Vanessa’s lips killed any real annoyance. Her body felt exhausted, but she no longer felt stressed. If anything, she felt relaxed. “I do…alot better, actually.” She sat up, smoothing out her dress. “Is it weird to say thanks?”

“Pfft! Not at all!” Vanessa laughed, reaching out and hugging the other once more. “If anything, I’m just happy to see you smiling again.” Noelle hugged her back, eyes misting over. Vanessa felt like such an older sister to her at that moment.

“Now- shall we keep searching? I think I might have found something while you were trying on that one dress.” Vanessa stood with a smile, gesturing for her to wait as she went to retrieve said outfit. Noelle wiped her face, the smile on her face no longer tight. God, she loved this team.

“Tada!” Vanessa walked back in, presenting the dress. Noelle gasped, a hand to her heart as she took it all in. “Whatcha think? Wanna try it on?”

“Yes…I’d like that very much.” Noelle nodded, standing as she took the garment.

Before long, she had the perfect outfit for the party.

~~~

“There you two are! Took you long enough to show!” Magna greeted them at the door, opening it wide. Beside him, Finral took them in, eyes lingering on Vanessa in speechless awe.

“The best dressed always show up fashionably late.” Vanessa smiled, reaching out and closing Finral’s mouth on her way in. “I’ll take you like the new look, Finral?”

“Love it. You look amazing. Both of you do.” He smiled at them, cheeks dusted as he watched Vanessa head inside. Noelle began to wonder if a wine stain really was the reason why Vanessa wanted a new dress.

“Well, don’t be a stranger- you live here too! Come on- we’ve got cake.” Luck ran up and took Noelle’s hands, pulling her in while she protested.

“Wait! I can get in on my own! You don’t need to-whoa!” She yelped upon crashing into Asta, the other’s cheeks coated in crumbs. “W-Watch it, dorksta!”

“Hehe, sorry Noelle! Luck got to you?” He smiled as he gave her space, eyes widening some. “Oh wow…”

Her dress was a pale blue with soft purple accents, the shirt bellowing at the waist. It was shorter in the front, the panels embroidered with white whirls to look like water. The sleeves were lace, reaching to her elbows before bellowing out to mid forearm. They also had the soft water like design on them.  She had her hair down, the long silver locks reaching her lower back- some curling over her shoulder.

“What, did something get on me?” She stammered, cheeks heating.

“Not at all, it’s just…you look really pretty.” He smiled, making her face flush more. “I like your dress.”

Before she could- she didn’t know; swat at him, call him dorksta, faint- Magna threw an arm over his shoulder, dragging him away and back to the party. “Asta! We’ve got potatoes!”

Hage potatoes. Your friend brought them over earlier” Yami called, making the shorter boy speed up, nearly dragging Magna with him. “Hage Potatoes? No way! Oh, be right back Noelle!” Asta called before sprinting to the table.

Noelle pressed her hands to her heart, cheeks red and eyes shimmering. He called her pretty. PRETTY. And he liked her dress.

“Thank you, Vanessa.” She breathed, making a note to send the witch the best wine she could find.

I hope this was good!

[aquamarinescarlet]

The Psychology of Us

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: ~3.5k

Warnings: mentions of smut (nothing explicit)

Summary: It seems like you’ll never get the answers you want, but little did you know…

Author’s note: This is probably my favorite story yet. It got a little steamier than I originally planned, but I think it turned out okay. I hope the explanation makes sense, it’s something I do use in real life so I thought it’d be fun to write about. Anyhow, thank you for everyone who read, and have fun with the last part :D

Taglist: @helloalycia @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @trikruismybitch @b0mbdotc0m @ima-gi--na-tion @cristin-rjd @arealearp @1-800-maximoff @zarriaza329

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

“I know, I know, I’ll be at your place at seven.” You said to Angie as soon as she reached you.

The hallway was packed, yet you were still able to notice her presence.

“About that,” she sounded unsure, “I came to tell you about this small gathering Pietro is doing at his place tonight, and I was wondering if you’d come with me?”

“So I can be a third wheel? No thank you.”

“He will have other friends over too, don’t worry.”

“Then why can’t you go by yourself?”

“Because I don’t know any of them and I don’t want to be there all by myself.” She reasoned.

“Just stick by Pietro and you’ll be fine.”

“Please!” She pleaded, giving you her best puppy eyes.

You weren’t opposed to the idea of going to Pietro’s house, a small gathering would be a nice change of pace from your usual Friday night parties. But your mind was in a different place right now and a party wasn’t exactly on your plans. You couldn’t say no to her though, maybe you could sneak out early, who knows.

“Fine, I’ll go.” You gave in.

She cheered, hugging you eagerly, and walked away before you could change your mind.

It was Friday again and you were still stuck on the girl and her puzzle. You’d seen her seven more times in the past two weeks. Now you had compulsively read eight books in the span of one month. Eight books all due to her, it was more than Diego reads in the same time.

Even your family was starting to question this sudden new hobby. Aalways keeping yourself locked in your room or with your nose deep down into a different book wasn’t normal.

Despite that, you were no closer to solving the mystery that was the girl from the library. She refused to give you her name when you asked her for it. She refused to explain the logic behind her recommendations. She just had fun watching you drown in frustration.

You were close to giving up, to start avoiding her until you forgot completely about the whole situation. But you enjoyed these moments. You were excited at the prospect of seeing her, not that you’d ever admit it out loud.

Of course, all this excitment died down the moment she started to mock you for nothing, with that annoying smirk painting those perfect stupid lips of hers, growing your desire to wipe it off of her.

There was something, though, that caught your attention, something about the books she recommended. You enjoyed them, you savoured every story, every plot, every character. Diego always tried to get you to read some of his favourite books and you gave up after a few pages. But not these ones, you liked them, and you had to figure out what kind of spell she used to make you like them so much.

“I think I’m going insane.” You muttered while staring at the ‘map’ you had created on your bedroom wall.

It contained post-its, notes, the title of all eight books and the answers that earned you each recommendation. A pathetic attempt to find a connection between this whole thing.

“You are getting too worked up on this, I mean, look at your wall,” Diego, who had been hanging out with you this afternoon, gestured towards it, “it looks like something right out of a detective movie.”

“It’s not that bad,” you said exasperatedly, “I just need to figure this out.”

“Okay, two things,” he put up both his index and middle finger, “first: it is that bad, it’s just a bunch of books; and second: why are you so desperate to figure this out?”

“I’m not desperate,” you argued.

“Yes, you are.” You heard him mumble.

“And aren’t you even a little bit curious?”

“Not that curious.”

“I just want to prove her wrong,” you explained.

“Because you care about what she thinks?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“No, I-”

“Look,” he interrupted, “I know you. I’ve known you for a long time. You have never been one to care about what other people think of you. So why her?”

“I-,” you were at a loss for words.

Why did you care? It bothered when she insulted you, even though you knew it wasn’t true, and you’ve never been bothered by such things before. It bothered that she knew nothing about you and still had the nerve to deem herself better than you, even though this was all the more reason to not care about her opinion at all.

Was it really a bother though? Or was that just an excuse? And if it is an excuse, then what were you excusing? Why were you still doing this? You’ve been dragging this out for a month. Why were you so keen on proving her wrong after all this time?

You don’t need to prove to her that you’re smart: you get good grades, you’re the captain of the football team, you even have a scholarship in one of the best colleges in the area. Of course she doesn’t know any of this, but that’s not enough motivation for you to spend a month trying to prove her she’s wrong about you.

For all you know that crazy scheme of hers to recommend books could be fake. She could just recommend books she likes and hide the reasons behind those questions. But then why did you enjoy those stories? And why would she put up a whole facade to recommend some books to a random stranger she met in a library?

“Do you like her?” Diego’s voice brought you out of your own thoughts.

The look you gave him was one of disbelief. You almost wanted to laugh at his words.

“Like her? How can I like someone who pisses me off so much?”

“Then why do you keep going back?”

“Why I- because- I- I’m curious.” You didn’t sound as confident as you wished. It wasn’t a lie. You were curious. But curiosity was not the only reason you kept going back, although you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

“I don’t believe you.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t know how to answer. Thankfully you didn’t have to when, with a quick glance at the clock, you were able to change the subject.

“We’re late.” You simply stated.

“For what?”

“I told Angie I was going to meet her at her place at seven,” you gestured towards the time, “it’s seven thirty.”

“I didn’t agree to this.”

“C’mon, please,” you pleaded, “it’s going to be a small, like, get together or something, and I know Angie will leave me alone at some point to makeout with her boyfriend.”

“Okay fine,” he gave in and you made a little celebratory dance, dragging him out of the house.

Since this was supposed to be casual and between friends, you didn’t waste any time at Angie’s, where you’d usually spend hours getting dressed and ready.

Pietro’s place wasn’t far, which you were slightly thankful for since Angie wouldn’t stop talking about him the whole ride. He’s such a good kisser. He’s so cute. Did you know he plays soccer? He looks so hot in his uniform… You love your friend, but that’s just too much.

As always you weren’t the first one’s, and by the amount of people it was far from a “small gathering between friends”. The apartment wasn’t small, but sure felt like it with the almost fifty people crammed in there.

You were greeted by Pietro himself, who offered you each a beer before pulling Angie in for a kiss, causing you and Diego to roll your eyes. You gladly took the beer, if you had to endure this, might as well have some alcohol to help.

Two beers later and your mind was no longer fixating on the girl-from-the-library problem. Instead you were having a friendly debate with some of Pietro’s friends about which college was the best, the typical rivalry. Having only Angie to back you up was making the whole thing harder.

“Hey Piet,” a tall blonde boy called out, interrupting the conversation, “is Wanda going to join us?”

“Doubtful, you know how she is…”

“Who’s Wanda?” Angie’s voice was laced with jealousy causing the boy to laugh dramatically, which only seemed to make her madder.

“She’s my sister, don’t worry,” he reassured her. It made sense, he had mentioned he lived with his twin sister.

You watched as he pulled Angie away from the group, probably to makeout, as you had predicted, and you looked at Diego, to stop him from commenting anything, only to find his place empty.

You left the group as well to search for him, and was surprised to find him shoving his tongue down some girl’s throat. You could’ve left them alone? Yes, you could. But did you? Of course not.

“Y’know,” you tapped on his shoulder, earning his attention, “when I bring you to a party so I can have someone when Angie left me, I expect you not to leave me as well.” You teased.

“Shut up.” He tried to sound serious, but the smirk gave it away.

“You owe me one.”

Feeling a sudden need to go to the bathroom, you let them be and went in search of one. You opened a door you thought led to a bathroom, but found yourself in a corridor which had other four doors that probably led to bedrooms, at least one must lead to a bathroom.

“Pietro, I already told you, keep that door closed!” You heard someone scream from one of them.

It wasn’t just anyone though. That was a voice that had been haunting you for a whole month now. Okay, haunting was an exaggeration, but still. You quickly closed the door, muffling the music and chatter.

As you rested your back against the wall, a surge of power took over you. The new information taking over all your thoughts. You had the upper hand now on this little game of hers. It was your turn to play.

Her door was easy to identify, being the only one with light seeping through the cracks, and you made no effort to be quiet or discreet when opening it.

She was sitting in her bed, long red hair loose over her shoulders, a book in hands. Her expression was soft despite the interruption, she hadn’t looked up, so she had no idea it was you who was standing there.

“What do you want Piet?” A mischievous smirk grew on your face.

“Wanda,” you uttered as if trying it on your tongue for the first time, earning the girl’s attention.

The shock that took over her features did wonders to your confidence.

“A beautiful name,” you continued, daring to take a few steps inside her room, “I see you favourite color is red,” you referred to the endless amount of details on her walls, shelves, bedsheets, all a different shade of red.

You walked further into the room, exploring everything in sight. She followed your every move with her eyes, too stunned to say anything. Were you crossing a line? Probably. Should you be invading her personal space like that, without a warning? Probably not. But she has been invading your personal space for weeks, so you couldn’t care less.

“Ah, you play the guitar,” you grazed your fingers over the instrument sitting on the corner of the room, “I didn’t think you had any talents other than insulting me for no reason.”

You were enjoying this too much. Your eyes landed on some pictures and notes clinging to a wall.

“Sokovia,” you said after reading one of the notes, “so you are Sokovian, that’s interesting.” Your gaze fell to her desk, a pile of textbooks stacked there. “Psychology,” you laughed, not because it was funny, but because it was going to piss her off even further, “you are more likely to drive your patients crazy than to actually help them.”

“How…,” you turned towards her, “did you…,”

“Get in here? Learn your name?” You offered some suggestions since she didn’t seem capable of finishing that sentence herself. “Pietro.” You simply stated and watched as her face went from stunned to mad.

“How do you know my brother?”

Was that jealousy you were sensing? Or was she just upset that he had told you stuff about her? You decided to play with it a little bit.

“He is a sweet boy isn’t he? So hot and so nice,” you teased and she advanced towards you, making you a little frightened, but not enough to back down, “it’s hard to believe you two share the same genes.”

Your face was mere inches from hers and you suddenly felt like the air was growing thick, making it hard to breathe. A feeling of warmth taking over your chest and stomach. In spite of all the discomfort, you managed to keep your composure.

“I so want to wipe that pretentious smirk off of your face right now,” she growled. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Why don’t you?” You challenged.

Football had given you fast reflexes (except for that particular event a few weeks ago), you were ready to catch her hand if she tried anything. Instead of her fist or her palm, you were met with her lips attacking yours furiously.

The kiss was needy, hungry, desperate even. Your hands made their way to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. It was a battle, a fight neither of you were willing to lose. Tongues fighting for dominance, teeth biting lips, jaw, neck, hands pulling on skin in such a way it would definitely leave marks.

Clothes fell to the floor as you backed her to her bed, pushing her onto the mattress, this feeling, a necessity for her, on the pit of your stomach growing ever more.

Safe to say your plans of leaving early were postponed. At some point during the night you had managed to find Diego and let him know you wouldn’t be needing a ride back home. Your disheveled state and red marks, which were already showing up on your neck, didn’t go unnoticed by him, but he didn’t have time to comment on it. You mentally dreaded the moment he would start with the questioning.

Some shifting on the bed caught your attention. Slowly opening your eyes, you were able to catch Wanda staring at you with a soft smile. Your back was facing her, so she didn’t know you were awake, but you could see her clearly from her bedroom mirror.

And what a sight it was.

“You’re staring.” You called out, and watched her face turn three shades redder out of embarrassment from being caught.

You turned around so you’re now facing her, although she wouldn’t meet your gaze.

“What’s on your mind?” She kept quiet. “Okay, wanna know what’s on my mind?” She nodded lightly. “Well, I’m thinking that I would have never, not in a million years, pegged you as being shy.” She tried to stifle a laugh while bringing her hand up to playfully hit you on the arm. “That’s more like it,” you teased.

“I’m not shy,” she defended.

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

“Because… “ she lost it mid sentence.

“... you’re shy and sweet, just like your brother said,” you recalled from the day you spent together in the arcade.

She hit you, yet again, on the arm, slightly harder this time, but not enough to hurt.

“Tell me this then,” you finally reached the topic that has been bugging you for weeks, “what was all this for? The mystery, the games?”

She fell silent, seemingly in deep thought and you got scared you had killed the moment.

“Okay, so maybe I’m a little shy,” she admitted and you celebrated internally while your face remained unfazed, “and that makes me scared of…”

“Talking to people?” You helped out, but she covered her face with her hands in embarrassment.

“Please, don’t laugh at me, I know it’s stupid-”

“It’s not,” you interrupted, uncovering her face, “go on.”

She took a deep breath before continuing.

“I’m scared of talking to people… especially people that I like.” Although it sounded like a confession, you weren’t exactly sure what it was about.

“So you liked me?” You asked in disbelief. “From the beginning?”

Her already red face was growing darker by the second.

“I had seen you before, with Diego, in the library, always complaining, always stating how boring it was,” she shook her hands in the air for the purpose of drama, “and it was annoying, but it was also cute and- and I always wanted to talk to you, but I never found courage to do it.”

To say you were shocked at the new information was an understatement. She liked you all this time? And you just thought she hated your guts for no reason? Wow, that’s precious.

“Okay, so…” you tried to say in the stunned state you found yourself, “how- why- the- why did you do all that then?”

“Because I had like, this sudden flow of confidence, and since you had this cocky personality I thought you would like someone who was the same, so I said what I said, and I did what I did and-”

“I started to hate you.” The way you acted when you first met must’ve hurt her.

“Exactly, and I thought I had screwed up completely, until you showed up again, and my stupid brain associated that to the idea that the way I had acted worked. So I kept it up. A persona, in a sense.”

“What were you planning to do then? Keep that act up forever?” The question made her slightly frustrated.

“I don’t know, I didn’t think that far, I just enjoyed your presence, even though you still seemed to hate my guts.” You laughed and moved closer to her, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“I did,” you whispered close to her ear, “I hated your guts, but I also enjoyed it, the games, the mystery, that’s why I kept coming back.”

“So it worked,” she said excitedly.

“It sort of did.” You stared into her green eyes, for a few seconds. “There’s something else in my mind too that I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“Ask away.”

“So… about the recommendations-”

“Oh my god,” she didn’t let you finish, “you haven’t figured that out yet?!” She exclaimed in disbelief, when she opened her mouth again you knew what was coming.

“Don’t say it.” You warned.

“You really are slow.” She said it anyways, a mischievous grin painting her lips.

“Damn, I hate you,” you said jokingly, unwrapping yourself from her and making a move to leave the bed.

She stopped you short, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and pulling you back, causing you to fall on the bed laughing hysterically.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I won’t say it anymore.”

She let you go and sat up and across from you.

“Good, so are you going to explain it to me or not?” You questioned and she rolled her eyes playfully. “And don’t you dare tell me there is no logic behind it, there has to be one.”

“Yes, there is a logic,” she mocked, “it’s quite simple actually, the ‘color’ is what sets the mood for the book.”

“How so?”

“Uhm, like, we associate colors with stuff, like black is associated with death and evil and white is associated with peace and purity,” you nodded, “it also works for feelings, associating those with colors, so when a person says a color I can pick a book that has elements that are associated with that color, or that causes a feeling that we associate with that color.” She explained.

“That explains the psychology major thing.” She seemed happy you remembered, even though it was mere hours ago.

“Basically,” she agreed, “so, ‘person’ is what defines the relationships that surround the main character, so either romances, friendships, families, strangers, y’know?”

“Yeah okay,” you tried to follow along.

“And ‘place’ is to decide how far from reality the story should be, if the person says a place that’s close to their home, they tend to prefer stuff closer to their comfort zone, so no fantasy or sci-fi, and vice-versa.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep,” she beamed a smile, “simple isn’t it?”

“Does it always work?”

“No, it’s a really subjective thing, the more I know the person the better, but sometimes it just doesn’t work.” She admitted. “It worked on you like a charm though,” she teased.

“That it did,” you couldn't deny. “Okay, so if I got it right, color sets the mood, right?”

“Right.”

“Then what is red associated with?” You looked around her room, filled with several details in red.

“Anger, love, passion-,” she stopped talking when she met your eyes, a mischievous smirk on your lips.

You slowly rose from your position and crawled forward, never losing her gaze. You quirked an eyebrow suggestively as you got closer. You sat on her lap, faces inches from another.

“Well, I can show you some passion.”

[monaisdark]

AHHHH! I loved your virgin shiggy post, I was wondering if you could make a part two with reader giving shigaraki a tit-fuck in an empty classroom, with degradation kink, and exhibition kink! I'm sorry if this too horny - Anon ♥♥

haha.. im back i guess. Its been a couple weeks but i have some time to start writing again :)) checking my inbox, i did NOT expect this many people wanting a pt2 to my virgin shiggy post. prolly my fault for holding it off for so long :/ so i made it longer than i planned but count this a thanks for 200+ followers!! <3 anyways i really need to catch up on my inbox but expect more from me !!

➨ paring — Virgin! (not anymore) Tomura Shigaraki x Fem! Bully! Reader

➨ warnings — Sub! Shigaraki, Dom! Reader, mommy kink, slight masturbation, humiliation, degradation, begging, exhibition, tit-fucking, hand-job, cum denial

PART 1

Shigaraki messed up. It’s been a week. A week since you cornered him in a room and took his virginity.

He still remembers what you told him when you left— “Take a shower tomorrow. Also wear a different top for god’s sake. If you do... I might let you touch me.” 

Shigaraki beat himself over for agreeing to it as soon as he got home. You were his bully. One of the people making his school experience even more unbearable than it already was.

Yet he completely was undone as soon as you placed your hands on him, and you knew it. He just didn’t know what you wanted.

Dick? No, you were pretty and popular— you could probably get some from more desirable guys. To bully him? Sure, you said mean things to him during the encounter but the bullying was always around your friends.

For a whole school week, he stayed home. Making up some bullshit to the school that he had the flu. Frankly, he was scared to go. How was he supposed to face you?

Did you tell anyone? Secretly record it? Was he currently the laughing stock of the entire school for begging to continue to fuck you?

But even away from school, you had an effect on him. He’s still a horny guy. Now, jerking off wasn’t the same anymore, not when he had some taste of pussy thanks to you.

Shigaraki would always end up thinking back to you, even with porn he couldn’t get you out of his head. His hands clamping around his cock weren’t the same as your pussy, same with the bodies of other women.

He found himself indulging into mommy kink porn, something he didn’t really get off from before you. Shigaraki pretend it was you talking to him, bouncing onto his lap and letting him touch you.

But after a bit— Shigaraki found it going no where, they weren’t you.

Cursing, he would always finish early. And not in a good way. In a way where he was left unsatisfied. Putting his painfully hard cock back into his sweats and trying to sleep his horny-ness away.

Shigaraki realized he needed you, you talking to him, you around his cock. Now, he regretted not sticking to his word. But he’ll make it up for you.

You were quite mad. Shigaraki hasn’t been to school since that day. How ungrateful, you literally let him put his dick in you and now he ghosts you in real life.

You fully expected him to be at school the next day with the way he begged you to stay, clean and ready for you. So imagine your annoyance in seeing him not show up for several days.

But today was different, the newly ex-virgin actually showed up. To your surprise, he still did more than you expected him to do despite being a week late.

Shigaraki had changed his hoodie to a whole new one, it looked recently bought. As well as his hair, looking more soft than greasy like it typically was. Though he didn’t style it, it still overhanging on his face.

Still, he definitely looked a lot better, not enough for others to notice but enough for you to smirk at your work.

Both of you didn’t interact with each other besides a few glances until lunch. You guys sat on completely different ends of the cafeteria, him sitting in a small corner table while you sat in a large one.

Shigaraki looked fidgety, meekly looking up every few minutes to watch you interact with your friends. He was waiting for school to end, planning to catch you at the same empty classroom you took his virginity in.

Though you had completely other plans.

“Hey, I’ll be right back.” You got up from your table, grabbing your bag from off the floor. “To?” One of your friends asked, not looking up from their phone.

“Some nerd, he’s gonna do my homework we got last period. Apparently, his parents found out he’s been doing our homework and now he's gotta do them during lunch. Gotta make sure they do it right.” You lied through your teeth, hoping they would just back off.

They didn’t look up, instead pulling their homework worksheet out of their binder with one hand, putting it in yours, “Get him to do mine.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the paper, “Yeah.” You walked away, crumbling the paper to throw it in the trash. You’ll just say you lost it. Not like they’ll do anything about it.

Narrowed eyes landed on Shigaraki, his eyes currently focused on his phone. You strudded your way to him, smirking to yourself.

Shigaraki almost jumped when he felt something brush against his leg. Looking up, he was met with you sitting down next to him.

“Hey.” You said, placing your bag on the table and putting your last period’s homework on the table.

“You’re good at chemistry, right?” You questioned, shifting through your bag for something to write with.

“...Well— I... um...—“ Shigaraki stuttered, unsure of what was currently going on.

“Great.” You pulled the phone out of his clammy hands, replacing it with a pencil. “...What?” He tilted his head, was this a joke? Did you completely forget about a week ago?

“Hm...? Well, get onto it.” You uttered him on, putting your chin in your hands, eyeing him. Reluctantly, he looked back to paper, beginning to work on it.

After around 5 minutes, you brushed against him even more, getting close to his side. “What does that say?” You pushed yourself further into his side, your chest touching his arms.

Shigaraki cursed himself for already becoming red, he pants tightening around his crotch as last week flashed into his head again.

“Um... m-mole is a unit of measur— Hmph!“ He held back a loud whine when your right hand traveled to his crotch.

“What— what are you doing?” He asked under his breath, holding back small whimpers as you palmed him, “Where have you been?” You questioned sternly, upset he kept you waiting.

“I’m sorry... I got sick.” He bluffed, it was too embarrassing to admit he was scared. With how he left you hanging, he expected people to be laughing at him the moment he stepped onto school grounds.

“Sick? A whole week?” You hummed, you could already tell he was lying. Still, you were proud that he even bothered to make it up to you by fixing himself up.

“With your diet of energy drinks and chips, I’m surprised you’re not dead.” You decided to let it go, he was just nervous to show up.

Yet you think he deserves a bit of punishment.

Shigaraki felt heavy as you teased the zipper of his jeans. He immediately tensed, “Wait— now..?” He saw you narrow your eyes, “Something wrong?”

“There’s people here!” He whispered yelled, flinching as he felt you unzip his jeans ever so slowly, trailing your finger along his exposed boxers.

“So? You’re just some loser in the corner, nobody will notice if you aren’t obvious.”

Shigaraki could already feel pre-cum form at his tip, staining his boxers a bit. You giggled a bit, feeling the dampness of his boxers. “Already?” Shigaraki shook his head, “I... I haven’t came since... that day.”

You laughed a bit louder than you expected to, good thing the cafeteria was already loud. “How sweet of you. Couldn’t get it on?”

Shigaraki focused his eyes on your paper, muffled moans caught at the back of his throat as you freed his cock from his boxers.

Now slowly pumping him, Shigaraki dropped the pen of the table. He wanted to do something with his hands, to touch you.

He moved his hand to your thigh, but of course, you didn’t allow him, “You’re too eager. Get back to work.” You ordered. Shigaraki was about to question you but you stopped him with stroking his cock faster.

Both of you continued this way for a bit, him answering questions with his shaky hands while you jerked him off.

Shigaraki could’ve sworn he felt eyes on him a couple of times, yet every time he looked up, nobody was even batting an eye in his direction.

He could feel his cock twitch at the excitement of being caught. How would they explain one of the most popular girls giving an outcast a hand-job under the table?

As he got to the last question— he was already drooling on the paper, mouth clenched shut to avoid moaning and panting to be let out.

You could tell he was about to cum, the writing on the paper progressively getting sloppier as time went on. “M-mommy...” Shigaraki whispered just enough for you to hear, “Hmm, you want to cum?”

He nodded furiously, he was extremely pent up and needed release. And just as he thought, you were the only one who can give it to him.

Shigaraki whimpered when you pulled away, looking up at the clock and collecting your stuff. “Then after school, room 204. Actually listen and show up when I tell you this time.”

You walked away just in time for the bell to go off, signifying that lunch was over. Leaving Shigaraki, once again, a mess.

Here he was again, feeling nostalgic as you walked into the empty classroom. Shigaraki easily grew again while anticipating this, the tent prominent in his jeans.

“Y’know, good job for showering and changing.” You gave him praise, Shigaraki turning red from your words. “This... this means I can touch you, right?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I actually keep promises.” He ignored the jab at him, it didn’t matter how mean you were— he was going to touch you finally.

Shigaraki awkwardly shuffled towards you, raising his hands up to look at you with wide eyes. He slowly paced a hand on your boobs, trying to see if this was just some test and you’ll get mad at him.

When he didn’t get anything back, he immediately started to dough on your clothed breast, cupping them. Then, he moved to unbutton your shirt, already seeing you thought ahead and took off your bra before coming here.

He fully took off your shirt, not wasting time on latching his mouth onto one of your nipples, both hands playing with your breasts. Shigaraki was basically humping your leg, sucking your nipples like a baby.

You giggled a bit, patting his head. He looked up at you with a clouded look, pure joy in his eyes as he finally got to touch you.

Looking back down at him, another idea popped up— you already took his virginity and gave him his first hand-job, whats another one of his firsts? “Shigaraki, do you want to feel really good?” He unlatched from your nipple, “I can be inside you?”

“No.” He frowned a bit, but perked up when you trailed your fingers on his boxers. “What if I put this,” You pointed at your boobs, “In between these?”

Shigaraki was already down, eagerly sitting on a desk while you got on your knees. He freed his cock, putting it in between your slick pushed together breasts, thanks to his sucking earlier.

You wasted no time on stroking it up and down with your breasts. He moaned feeling the softness of the valley between your chest, your breasts around his cock giving him warmth as you stimulated him.

Shigaraki was definitely feeling great, you even let him bend down and grab your breasts to control the speed of the tit-job.

Though, Shigaraki wanted more. You were giving him all these things, a hand-job, a tit-fuck. He’s been inside you once and he didn’t get to do what he wanted in the first place. To cum inside his mommy.

He feels a knot grow in his lower abdomen, but he doesn’t wanna cum yet. Instead, he pulled himself away from you, much to your confusion.

“What? You literally were about to cum and I was gonna let you!” You groaned, getting up as Shigaraki faced you.

“...Mommy, can I fuck you?”

“No, you didn’t come to school for a whole week. If you really wanted to you would have showed up.”

Shigaraki turned red, sputtering as he held onto your arm, “Please! I just want you cum inside you.” He whined, tears pricking at the chance of not getting to have sex with you after all this time.

You looked at him stoned faced as he begged, even falling to his knees dramatically to add to his desperation. “Fucking virgins, man.”

Shigaraki felt himself be pushed down, your skirt and panties on the floor. You straddled onto his length, moans filling the room quickly.

“Yes! Thank you, thank you, mommy!” Shigaraki thrusted his hips into yours, feeling even more over-joyed when he was allowed to touch your chest while you were on top of him this time.

Shigaraki desperately missed this, now he remembers why his hand didn’t compare to your tight pussy after trying to jerk off. He found his own rhythm quickly, muffled ‘mommy’s due to his mouth on your breasts.

“I’m doing this because you cleaned up, if you didn’t I would’ve left you to your own sad-ass devices already.” You lied, honestly, you hated the idea what he possibly was ignoring you by not showing up to school.

Even then, you’ve grown a bit found of him. His body, his expressions, his voice, everything really. It didn’t bother you as much when you saw his still messy hair, you were just glad to see him.

Though, you’d never admit it. Instead, it showed through the way you were tightening around his cock, panting as he moaned into and out your body. Shigaraki very quickly wrapped his arms around you, both of you on the edge.

“Fuck— Shigaraki. Cum, cum for mommy, okay?” You ordered, Shigaraki more than ready to fulfill it.

“Ah, thank you! Thank you, mommy! I’m gonna cum inside you!” Both of you rided out your highs, Shigaraki filling you so much it started to drip outside your full cunt.

He fell on top of you despite you initially being on top, you wanted to scold him but honestly couldn’t bring yourself to right now.

The room quieted down, the only words being exchanged were by Shigaraki softly muttering “Thank you, mommy.” into your neck

[cornfarm]

waves against the rocks

saiki kusuo x reader

word count: 2.0k

synopsis: you show saiki your powers. he’s unbearibly jealous, yet for the first time, he feels seen and understood by another person.

cws: mention of the reader having a bad family

genre: melancholic fluff

reader is gender neutral!

===================================================

notes:

greetings... i promise i’m working on cease and desist part 2 but i keep starting one shots;; I ALSO DECIDED TO CHANGE MY TEXT FORMAT... i yoinked all the capital letters away... it feels a bit more liberating

whenever i make my crazy op self insert oc, i always think about how i can make them a foil/double to the characters i like. for example my gintama s/i is also a traumatized war veteran. i thought like... wouldn’t it be fun to write the reader character as a direct foil AND double to saiki? they have everything he doesn’t, but he has a lot that they dont and it’s like,., mutual jealousy.

i also wanted to write saiki properly empathizing with someone. aiura and toritsuka are so fun because they both have different moral compasses with their powers and how they’d like to use them. however despite the fact theyre all psychics, saiki can’t really empathize with either of them.

i wanted to have saiki be excited about something, and feel truly seen. empathy is a very powerful thing.

i hope the “ability” i chose isn’t too cringe;;;

i can’t help but feel like i write saiki ooc so feedback would be super appreciated!

===================================================

perception. the way people are seen by others, the mental images and sour thoughts rooted in nothing but misconception. the falsafied persona of greatness, beauty, and kindness. perception.

you kept saiki afterschool. tugging at his sleeve, you quietly asked “i need to show you something, stay here for a few extra minutes?”. he refused you at first, but you stayed firm, “i need you to stay.” fierce. he decided to stay.

but you stood before saiki, right? were you there? he suddenly felt a bit weary, head pounding at the thought of you. your name, voice, scent, failing to find matches in his library of records. when he thought of you, his brain flickered through the faces and names of everyone else he knew.

you were a gap, a void, a sudden unconjurable memory. it was horrifying. but he quickly accepted it. the body circling behind of him was none of his concern, because there was nobody there. he supposes he should go home now. why was he standing alone in the classroom anyways?

firm hands land on his shoulders, warm, present. he remembers why he’s here.

“it’s not that i’m invisible, it’s just that your brain can’t recognize me, and refuses to acknolwedge me as a thing that exists.”

like a wave crashing against a rocky shore, the void is filled. your voice, your scent, your name, all slotted back into place in his mental library. he recognizes the hands on your shoulders as yours. 

a hand snakes around and pushes up his glasses, covering his eyes.

“it’s not about visibility, it’s perception. you are unable to percieve me as a living thing, or of anything of importance. that’s why you can’t read my thoughts, and that’s why you’re so quick to give up trying to recall me.”

he’s practically trembling- you have one power. it was simple, but it managed to find a loophole around practically all of his.

“that’s terrifying.”

“right?”

you take your hands away and step in front of him. he adjusts his glasses properly.

“were you born with it?”

you nod, “it caused me trouble when i was a kid. i almost got left at an airport,” you chuckle.

“does anyone else know?”

“i’ve tried to tell my parents but they don’t believe me. they called me a liar and delusional, so i decided to stop trying with them. nobody else knows, i’ve never told any of my past friends either. when i found out about your powers, i thought maybe someone would finally understand. that’s the only reason i wanted to tell you.”

your lip quivers, “you believe me, right?”

truth be told, saiki’s stunned. he wasn’t expecting someone like you to have such an abrasive ability. despite how reclusive and fittingly unnoticeable it is, it was certainly powerful.

he’s jealous. you were able to freely aquire something he wanted- privacy, but he does believe you, afterall he just watched you waltz around him, outside of his keen field of view. 

“yeah, i do.”

you smile, bright and wide- you’re nearly trembling. was being believed that big of a deal to you?

you take a step forward and embrace him, wrapping your arms around his torso as your head presses against his chest. he goes a bit stiff, and glances at the door. “hey, someone might walk in-”

“it’s fine.” you look up at him, meeting his eyes, and oh. your eyes are glimmering, shining greater than he’s ever seen them, “they won’t.”

burying your face back into him, he tenataively wraps his arms around your back. you continue, voice muffled, “’m sorry, you’re the first person who’s accepted me. i’m happy.”

the emotional explanation for your actions ease him a bit, “it’s fine.” he states back.

you finally pull away, and for a brief moment as you lose connection, you flicker out of his view, but you come back in again, placing your hand on his.

“actually, i can touch you while using my power without you being affected by them, but i’m manually using it on you right now.”

“if you touch someone while making sure they still can’t see you, what does that make them experience?” his voice is clear, a bit fierce in tone. you always had trouble reading saiki, but you could tell that this was interest. perhaps he was threatened, but he was certainly intrigued.

“they might whirl around and look who’s touching them and account it to a person around them, but if not, they might think they’re having sensory hallucinations. i can also talk to people, but because my voice doesn’t have any weight to it, it’s almost like a hypnotic suggestion.”

“so you can brainwash people?”

“not necessarily,” you let go of his hand, you must have released your power, your eyes are dark, “if i suggest something to someone and it’s something mild, they’re more likely to do it because it already falls into their line of thinking. if i suggest something bold, they might do it thinking it’s an impulsive thought.”

“most people won’t do extreme things, they’ll read those as intrusive thoughts. but sometimes people think my voice is the voice of god, or a passed on relative, and will do intense things regardless of their judgement. others have poor impulse control, and some are just batshit crazy.”

you sheepishly scratch your head, “but i don’t really like having that much control over people. i don’t want to use my powers to hurt anyone.”

“do you want to use them to help people?”

you pause. it seems you’ve thought about this quite a bit.

“well my powers can’t help people. they give me the ability to help people, but they can’t help people directly. i think it’s a matter of it i’m strong enough to help people.”

“are you?”

“would you hate me if i said no? of course i lend a hand to my friends when they need it, but i don’t think i’m strong enough to really make a difference. i want to live peacefully.”

you look down at your hands, “i wish i wasn’t born with it.”

saiki felt unnervingly softhearted. he struggled empathizing with his peers, but his heart pounded in solemn familiarity. “i don’t hate you for that, i’m the same. having the powers i do means i have the responsibility of keeping the world in peace. people would be jealous of me for the self-fulfilling purposes i could use my powers for, but i don’t want to use my powers to hurt people. i don’t want to help anyone either. i just want to be left alone.”

guilt. guilt was a disease, just like jealousy is. it eats at you from the inside, and creeps up at times least expected. it left both of you hollow and empty.

“i wish i didn’t have powers,” he continues, “i don’t think i’ve ever properly experienced life in the way i’m supposed to, like everyone else has. i’m envious of you, you’ve had a bit more normalcy than me.”

“i suppose we’re equally unhappy, then,” you smile at him. he had been staring out the window, but he turns to looks at you. you’re leaning on the door of the classroom, tilting your head, you ask him a silent “walk home with me?”. 

“i mean,” you begin, “i’ve missed out on a lot. i’ve always had trouble making friends- my powers made it difficult for people to remain interested in me. i’ve gotten pretty good at controlling them, pk academy has been really good to me, but it doesn’t heal the damage it’s caused me.”

your teeth gnaw at your lower lip, “your family is so supportive of you, they love you so much, it makes me angry. i wish i could say the same about mine.”

it wasn’t too empty in the school, but your footsteps were loud and clear, both you and saiki walking in sync. saiki didn’t really know what to say, so he stayed silent. 

sighing, you continue, “i don’t want to be alone, but it’s too easy to be reclusive when that’s where you’ve always been. if you live a life of isolation, making friends is scary and draining,” a grim smile forms on your face, as if you’re trying to comfort yourself.

but saiki does have to admit that the two of you have much more in common than he initially thought. he quietly thinks to himself, perhaps he could use your abilities.

“y/n,” he begins, eyes meeting yours, “will you do me a favor?”

“yeah, what is it?”

he doesn’t like being indebted to people, but he wants to test your limits. you don’t give him the chance to ask, “you want me to use my powers while we walk out together, don’t you.”

his mouth falls a bit open, lips parting, “how did you know?”.

you laugh, “you’re not the only one who can read minds,” and reach out to wrap a hand around his forearm. he raises a brow at you, seemingly amused by your comment. he expected you to take his hand again, but your firm grip on his arm was admitedly unexpected.

he felt his heart skip a beat.

“well? are you doing it?”

“yup, you won’t feel any different though.”

walking down the steps together, people passed the two of you, strangers, familiar faces, teachers. nobody noticed.

the two of you passed toritsuka at the steps, but he paid no mind. “you know,” saiki started, “when i use my invisibility power, that guy can still see me.” 

“can he?” you murmur, your voice a bit low. 

“if it’s easier, you can just think what you’d like to say to me, we can talk that way.”

you squint your eyes in concentration, “like this?” you think to yourself. 

“yeah.”

you smile. you continue to hold onto his arm as he changes his shoes. 

“that must be frustrating, that he can still see you.”

he nods. he supposes if toritsuka can’t see you, then aiura probably can’t track you- and him, down either. 

“hold onto my arm while i change mine.”

without breaking contact, he gently wraps his fingers around your wrist. you hastily change your shoes, and slide your hand a bit up, taking his in yours.

“is it neccesary to hold hands?” he asks. his expression was nearly deadpanned, but the slight crease in his brows communicated just enough. he felt sheepish, a bit lost.

“no, but it’s nice.” 

teruhashi stands idly at the exit, waiting, doing her best to gently shake off the boys that surrounded her.

“she’s looking for me.”

“is she? do you want to talk to her?”

“no.”

you pause. 

“is she the reason you asked me to do this for you?”

he nods.

you turn and head towards the gate, but not before waving a hand in front of her face. you take a deep breath, before exclaiming a loud “teruhashi!”. she whirls around, trying to find the source of the voice, looking rather bewildered.

letting out a hearty laugh, you grin up at him. a slight huff of air escapes his upturned lips.

the two of you slip past the front gate.

“but you owe me something in return, i don’t give out my labor for free!”

he sighs, “what would you like?”

“wait, really? i was joking, you don’t have to do anything for me!” you double down on your demands.

“you say that, but i know you’re secretly hoping i’ll treat you.”

“shit, i forgot you can read my mind. that’s so invasive.” you pout, “not fair!”

“it’s fine, i don’t like being indebted to people, and you did do me a favor like i asked, so i’ll take you somewhere.”

you look a bit nervous, “really? you’re sure?”

“just accept the offer before i revoke it.”

you twirl in a circle, letting go of his hand and hopping a few steps ahead of him. “you’re buying me a nice coffee then!” 

he lunges out to take it again.

“sure.”

and once more in sync, both of your hearts skip a beat.