#if i yawned around him he'd stick his finger down my throat

[macravishedbymactavish]

Your Graduation (Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader)

I hope this can be accepted as "It's the thought that counts" (plus the heavy symbolism since we met through your fics, ha)

Congrats on graduating today my (mostly platonic) hubs!!! @bloodonmyhands-1221

TW: Light innuendo (like one line - to be safe MDNI). No taglist on this one, it's a special occasion thing

Blog HQ

Yawning softly, you blinked hard and resumed reading the screen in front of you. Hoping some of the information would stick in your overtired brain. You wanted to get as much of your homework done as possible tonight, so you could spend the entire day tomorrow with Simon when he got home.

In hindsight, being curled up in one of his sweaters while you worked well into the night probably wasn't your smartest choice. The ocean of fabric warming your skin, the lingering memory of who it's rightful owner was warming your heart. Your brain being fried by the paragraphs in front of you.

"That looks far too intense for this late, pet" you jumped at the voice beside you. Head shooting over to be met with a familiar pair of eyes.

Simon.

"You're home?!" You laughed, laptop now shoved away as you launched yourself at him. Arms wrapped warmly around his neck as he pulled you tight into his chest. Pressing small kisses to your head as a hand rubbed over your back.

"I'm home. Got back to base about an hour ago, spending another night with you beats another night alone" He smiled, greatful to be home. "Am I interrupting you?"

Always mindful of you, and the most supportive partner in the world. He was in your corner every step of the way so far. From deciding on a major, applying for the courses, the late nights spent cramming. The failed tests to the passing with honors. He was there for it all.

Including all the times when you start drowning in your thoughts and forget which way was up. He'd pull you out and remind you to breathe.

"Staring at the screen won't make your grade show any faster" Simon whispered, arms wrapped around your waist as he laid beside you. Half watching whatever movie was playing on TV, half focusing on the anxious bouncing of your leg.

"If I don't get 60% on this at least, I fail the class" you snapped, 60% is nothing. Right?

"I guarantee you did better than just 60%, love" he reassured, pulling you into a laying position with him. "You are much better than 60%" he mumbled in your ear, pressing soft kisses down your neck. Letting his hands wander to the hem of your shirt. Your eyes slowly drifting shut, as you focused on the warmth of his mouth and hands; only to be interrupted by the screen in front of you refreshing.

Shoving Simon to the side momentarily you scanned the writing, looking for your grade. 97% on the final, 86% average in the class.

"Look!" You cheered, a wide small adorning your features. "97%!" You fell back, fist pumping the air. Ignoring the amused expression your fiancé was giving you (despite being cockblocked by grades). You were about to continue on with your excited chatter when you were cut off by a warm kiss. His hand now on the back of your neck, fingers woven through your hair as he mumbled against your mouth.

"Let me show you how proud I am"

So when he was deployed only a month before your graduation, he was devastated. Promising he'd do everything in his power to make it back in time. You only asked for him to turn in one piece.

"It's okay, I understand. Wouldn't be planning on marrying you if I didn't" you explained, forcing a smile as you spoke. Hoping the tears and tightness in your throat didn't give anything away.

"Still feel like shit that I can't be there though" He sighed through the phone, guilt gnawing at his concious. "As soon as I'm home we're doing something. Just you and me" the promise mended some of the cracks forming in your heart.

"Sushi, snuggles and sex the first night" you teased, listening to him groan softly. "Then whatever you have planned after"

"A woman after my own heart" He chuckled lowly, causing you to bite your lip.

"I've got to go, looks like things may be starting" You explained, pushing yourself from the corner you stood in. Watching as your classmates began lining up.

"You've got this love, I'm proud of you. I love you" You echoed his words back, biting back laughter as you heard yelling from the other end of the call. Screams of pride, acknowledgement and chaos from his found family team.

In hindsight, this day was supposed to be about 95% less nerve wracking. Nobody told you how nervous you get while up on stage in front of everyone.

You rubbed your hands against the gown at your sides, cursing to yourself for how sweaty they became. 2 people left to walk the stage before it was your turn. Taking a shaky breath in, you twisted the ring on your finger. A small reminder of the only thing missing today.

He would go through hell and high water to be here if he could. You reminded yourself. Opting to think about the phone call you had not even 2 hours ago, where he couldn't stop reminding you how proud he was. How much he loved you. How pissed he was at Price and Laswell for keeping him on a mission when he should be home cheering you on.

Your train of thought was derailed when you heard your name being called. Go time.

One step at a time, don't trip, don't fall, you-

"GOT THIS!" You heard a chorus of voices yell from the back. You turned your head momentarily, eyes drawn to the flailing limbs and cheers of encouragement.

They were here. He was here.

You gladly accepted your diploma, handshakes, and pictures with tears forming in your eyes. Now anxiously waiting for the end of the ceremony to see your fiancé and friends.

Throughout the rest of the speeches, and other students getting their moment in the spotlight you watched your group. Shooting you thumbs up, heart hands, massive smiles. Despite all the theatrics, you had a hard time taking your eyes off your shadow. Leaning against the wall, eyes filled with adoration, pride and love. A small smile permanently on his unmasked face. He made it.

"Our little graduate!" Soap called out, running toward you with Gaz on his heels. The two men bombarding you with a tight hug, knocking your cap off in the process.

"Watch it, boys" Kate lightly scolded, picking it off the ground before pulling you into a warm hug once you were released. Whispering a soft congratulations.

"I'll make this quick so I don't get my arm ripped off, but rather proud of you kid." Price pulled you close for a moment, knowing he was the last person inbetween you and your love.

"You made it" you squeaked out, looking over at Simon. Tears you kept at bay now returning, threatening the makeup you applied this morning.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, love" he smiled. "Get over here" he laughed, arms wide as he pulled you in close. Lips pressed to the side of your head as he held you tight against his chest. Tender words of how much he loves you, how proud he is of you, and how beautiful you looked mumbled against your skin.

Nothing in the world mattered, it was you and him. Basking in the excitement, and giddiness of your accomplishments. The two of you on your personal cloud nine.

"Wouldn't miss this day for the world, you've worked your arse off to get here. I'm so proud of my love"

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fluff

[godlizzza]

Holiday prompt: teenage danbert where herbert gets to spend christmas eve/morning with dan's family?

Herbert woke on Christmas morning with Dan's hair in his mouth. Wrinkling his nose, he eased back and spat the brown strands out, squinting at the pale light filtering in between the crack in the curtains and slicing across his face. He tried to sit up back Dan squeezed him tighter, arms locked around Herbert's waist and keeping him firmly pressed against the mattress. Herbert glanced down at him and saw Dan's mouth quirk up at the corners.

He finally opened his brown eyes to look up at Herbert and say, "Merry Christmas."

It was the same thing he'd said last night at the stroke of twelve. He'd pestered him into staying up until midnight purely to wish him a happy Christmas the second he could. Herbert had found him as trying then as he did now, but he couldn't fight the swell of fondness that rose in his chest. It was all such a Dan thing to do.

"Merry Christmas to you too," he mumbled back, poking Dan's nose and smirking at his subsequent scowl. "Sleep well? Or were you too excited thinking of Santa to get any shut eye?"

"I slept amazing," Dan replied haughtily. "But only because I had my human body pillow to keep me company."

He ducked his head down and burrowed into Herbert's chest, nuzzling his sternum hard. Herbert squirmed and shoved at his head, but Dan held firm, hands raking down Herbert's back and slipping dangerously close to his sides. Herbert instantly went stiff and grabbed Dan's wrists, halting his hands before his treacherous fingers could slip beneath the fabric of his shirt.

"Don't you tickle me," he gasped desperately. "If you do, I can't be held responsible for my reflexes."

Dan rolled his eyes but his smile was still soft and syrupy, sweetened with remnants of sleep still sticking to him. "You and your sensitive nerves..."

He gently leaned in and pressed his lips to Herbert's collarbone, where the neck of his shirt dipped low enough to expose the skin of his chest. Herbert shivered at the contact and felt Dan smile against his skin.

"Sooo sensitive," Dan went on in a whisper, trailing his lips higher and kissing Herbert's neck.

Herbert hummed somewhere in the back of his throat, his hands coming to rest on Dan's shoulders. The trouble with sharing a bed with Dan was that they always inevitably wound up here: with Dan's hands and lips and on him, pressing him into the mattress. Herbert didn't dislike it, but he did think Dan could perhaps work on not being so predictable. He was warm though. Positively toasty, in fact. The heat of his body wafted up between them, caged in by the plush comforter and forming a cocoon around them. Herbert's eyes slipped shut as Dan pressed a kiss beneath his jaw and he basked in that warmth.

They didn't have long to indulge, however, before a light rapping came at the door. Herbert opened his eyes to watch Dan blink over his shoulder towards the knocking.

"Danny, Herbert," came the chipper voice of Dan's mother, Leanne, "Are you two up yet?"

"Yeah, Mom," Dan grumbled, releasing his octopus-like grip on Herbert and sitting up. He yawned and stretched, his joints popping with the motion. He sleepily scratched at the light trail of hair dusting his stomach and smacked his lips a couple of times. "We're up."

"Oh, good!" she chirped. "I'm making eggs. Herbert, dear? How would you like yours?"

"Scrambled, please," Herbert replied, reaching for his glasses on the bedside table."

"You got it. See you two in a minute."

Leanne's voice disappeared as her footsteps grew distant, heading towards the stairs. There had been a time when she may have swung the door open with less prompting. After one particularly close call when she had nearly walked in on the two of them making out on top of the sheets, Dan had apparently concocted some story that Herbert was exceedingly private and paranoid about people walking into his room unannounced. Ever since, Leanne had gone out her way to deliberately knock and not enter until Dan gave her the go-ahead. Herbert liked her that much more for it. He couldn't imagine his own mother ever being so considerate.

He followed Dan out of the cosy bed with some regret. He'd never been much of one for Christmas, so a day spent laying beneath a pile of warm blankets sounded just as good a way to spend Christmas day than anything else he could think of. But the Christmas aspect had been what Dan was so excited to have Herbert over for, so he supposed their itinerary was to be more than simply lazing about.

"You're sure this is okay?" Herbert asked, tugging at his pajama shirt as he and Dan padded down the stairs.

Dan glanced over his shoulder, eyes flicking down to catch Herbert fiddling with his buttons, and a grin spread across his face. "Of course, it's okay. You don't need formal dress for this. It's Christmas morning, not dinner at the royal palace."

Herbert frowned but didn't fight him on it. If walking around in his plaid pajamas and socks was okay by the Cain household, he supposed that was fine. It still felt unnatural and odd though. Discomfort prickled up his spine, the irrational fear that his grandfather would spring out from behind a potted plant and accuse him of being a slob itched at the base of his skull. He ignored it though as he and Dan descended the stairs and were welcomed by the smell of frying eggs.

Leanne turned from the stove and gave them a warm smile as they entered the living room. She wore a pink Santa hat and an apron embroidered with a smiling snowman over her nightdress. She waved her spatula at them as Dan tugged Herbert over towards the glimmering Christmas tree.

His father, Scott, was down on his knees, lighting the fireplace. The chopped logs and kindling lit, the fire crackling to life in the hearth. He sat back and clapped his hands together, sending a shower of soot raining down from his palms, onto the carpet. He was also wearing his pajama bottoms, but had on a truly gaudy Christmas sweater, decorated little flashing bulbs. He smiled as Dan excitedly sat down by the stack of presents beneath the pine's green branches.

"Morning, boys," Scott greeted in his usual booming voice. "Merry Christmas."

"Thank you," Herbert replied, slowly sinking down to sit beside Dan on the plush rug. "Merry Christmas to you as well."

Dan paused in his ogling of the wrapped presents to shoot a little smile at Herbert. Herbert just glared right back, daring him to say something. He always gave him grief for being what he called 'overly polite' to his parents, but Herbert had no idea how he was supposed to talk to them otherwise. He certainly couldn't pal around with them in the casual way Dan did. That would be...obscene.

"Ready for breakfast?" Scott asked.

"Dad," Dan whined. "Can't we do the presents first?"

"Daniel Jonathan Cain," Leanne chided as she shuffled into the living room, patting down her apron. "You haven't changed since you were a baby." She shot a sparkling smile at Herbert and said, "I used to have to hide his presents in the attic. If I left them under the tree, he'd sneak them away to his room and open them early."

Dan pouted, a blush colouring his cheeks. "I did that one time."

"One time too many," Leanne corrected, then settled down on the arm of the sofa. "But I think we can put Dan out of his misery and do the presents first."

Dan pumped his fist and scrambled to grab the nearest parcel; a small box wrapped in green paper, tied off with a silver ribbon. He shredded the paper apart, flinging the scraps over his shoulders and tearing the box open to reveal a baseball. Herbert frowned slightly at this. Sure, Dan liked baseball, but didn't he have balls already? What did he need with one more? His thoughts were interrupted by Dan's loud gasp. He clutched the box tightly in his hands and brought it an inch from his nose, his eyes wide as he examined it.

"Is that-?" Dan stammered. "Dennis Eckersley?" He lowered the box and stared in wonderment at his dad, who just smiled knowingly back. "You got me a ball signed by Dennis Eckersley? How?"

"Got your Uncle Marv to go to charity auction event for me. Told him to get whatever was best. Soon as he told me he got that ball, I knew you'd love it," Scott replied with a chuckle.

"I do love it," Dan said, hugging the ball tight to his chest. "Thanks, Dad."

Scott clapped Dan on the shoulder and squeezed. Herbert watched the interaction, his eyes glued to where Scott's fingers dug into the fabric of Dan's sweatshirt. When was the last time his father had touched him? Shown him affection? Spoken to him at all? He couldn't remember. Probably not for a long time. After all, conversing with his son would hardly fit in with the busy schedule Grandfather had made for him.

Herbert watched the Cains open several more presents after that: Leanne got Scott a new lawnmower, Dan gave his parents a framed photo of the three of them on some vacation they'd all taken together, Scott got Leanne concert tickets to a band Herbert had never heard of before, and Dan opened several more presents from his parents and extended family. Herbert observed it all from his comfy spot on the floor. It seemed like a scene out of a holiday movie, full of smiles, looks of fondness, and family cheer. With the warmth of the fireplace and the scraps of torn wrapping paper at his feet, Herbert felt cosy in a way he never had on Christmas before. His Christmases were usually spent doing his summer homework from his room, watching the snow fall outside and wondering if his mother would force him to accompany her to a charity dinner.

"This one's for you, Herbert dear."

Herbert's reverie popped like a soap bubble as he came back to himself and blinked at the silver polka-dotted parcel Leanne was holding out to him. He took it without thinking, then frowned down at it in confusion.

"For me?"

"Yes, of course!" Leanne said, her hands knitted together on her lap. "I knew I had to get you something as soon as I knew you'd be spending Christmas with us. It's such a shame you can't be with your own family this year, but I hope you feel at home with us, all the same."

His parents were actually spending Christmas together for once, though it was in France, without Herbert. His father was there for business reasons, and his mother had insisted she come along, though that invitation had not been extended to their son. It suited Herbert just fine- no stuffy dinners to attend with his mother, spent being paraded and ordered to play little ditties on the piano- but Dan had been appalled when he'd told him.

"You can't spend Christmas alone," Dan had insisted.

"I won't be alone," Herbert had replied. "Colette will be there."

Dan had rolled his eyes at this. "Your maid doesn't count. No. No way. You're coming over to my house, no questions asked."

In the present, Herbert blinked at the three faces pointed his way. That uncomfortable itch was back, scraping at the nape of his neck. He had to look away, tugging at a thread on his elbow.

"Thank you, but, um. I didn't get you anything," he admitted, to which Leanne waved him off.

"Don't you worry about that. I just saw this and knew you had to have it."

"Yeah," Scott agreed, one arm around his wife's shoulders. "Go ahead, Champ. Open it up."

Herbert's eyes sought Dan, who gave him an encouraging nod. Herbert swallowed down against the dryness in his throat and did just that, peeling back the paper until a bright sweater revealed itself. He picked it up and held it out before him, the knitted wool rolling down to reveal the image woven into the fabric.

"Oh, Mom, that's great," Dan said.

"I know!" Leanne squealed, slapping Scott's leg. "Isn't it just perfect for him?"

In the middle of the green sweater was a picture of Albert Einstein wearing a Santa hat. A chain of what looked like gingerbread men holding hands was knitted into the hem of the sweater, making a ring around the waist. The cuffs were white with little atom symbols embroidered around the circumference.

"It might be a little big on you, Hon, but that's okay," Leanne said.

Dan knocked his knee against Herbert's and nodded at the garment. "Put it on," he urged.

Herbert, not knowing what else to do, wordlessly obeyed. He pulled the sweater over his head, taking care to not let the woolen strands get caught on his glasses. He threaded his arms through the sleeves then stared down at Einstein peering out from his chest. Leanne beamed, watching for his reaction.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

Herbert nodded, trailing his fingers along the soft wool. "Yes, thank you."

Leanne clapped her hands together excitedly. In that moment, she greatly resembled Dan getting ready to tear into some presents.

"I'm so glad," she sighed, pressing a hand over her breast. Then, with a click of her tongue, she rose to her feet, Scott's arm slipping from her shoulders. "Now, come along, you boys. Your eggs are getting cold."

"Yes, Maam," Scott grunted as he pushed himself from the sofa and followed after her.

He ruffled Dan's hair, earning him a cry of protest from his son, and patted Herbert's shoulder. Herbert stared at that hand on his shoulder, Scott's hand big and rough from a career spent toiling in gardens. His touch was there only for a moment, gone in a second, as though he hadn't even thought about the action at all. He paced after his wife, leaving Herbert and Dan alone by the tree.

Dan waited until his parents' voices grew faint as they entered the kitchen before turning to Herbert and speaking softly. "Well? How're you liking your first real Christmas morning?"

"Good," Herbert replied, fiddling with the hem of his sweater. "There are slightly less singing snowmen and elves than I'd anticipated, but this is still very nice."

Dan's eyebrows bumped up towards his hairline. "What kind of movies have you been watching? Without me?" When Herbert made a big show of shrugging innocently, Dan's expression broke into a grin and he ducked his chin down. Leaning forward, he murmured into Herbert's ear, "For what it's worth, I'm really happy your here. Everything's way better when you're around."

Herbert had to press his lips into a straight, hard line to keep them from doing something stupid, like tilting into a lopsided, lovesick smile. That's what being in love with Dan was like though: sickening.

"I'm glad too," was all he replied with, but Dan's smile didn't dim.

"After breakfast, we can go sledding," he said, then nodded at the window. "Look. It's snowing."

Herbert turned and saw that Dan was right. Some time since they'd woken up, snow had begun to gently fall from the sky, adding to the piles of chilly white clumps blanketing the ground. The outside world looked like a giant hand had coated everything with glittering frosting. Children were already racing out of their homes, padded in layers of coats and scarves, to build snowmen and throw snowballs at each other. Just watching them made draw his knees up to his chest and bask in the bubble of warmth that was the Cain living room.

Dan pressed a hand to Herbert's back as they both watched the neighbourhood children play. He could feel that Dan wanted to do more- hug or embrace him- but with his parents only in the next room, it was impossible. Herbert cherished that hand though, leaned back against Dan's touch, simply luxuriating in him being so near.

"That sounds like fun," Herbert said, and Dan laughed.

Maybe he could learn to love Christmas if he could spend them all like this.

#well. this got a little longer than i intended lol #hope you like it though! #teen danbert #danbert #glad i could get this out on christmas eve hehe #dan cain #herbert west #re-animator #reanimator #my fics #asks #writing prompt

[jungle-angel]

The One With The Inspection Sticker: Part 2 (Miles Miller x Reader)

Summary: Miles should have seriously considered a career in gynecology

Warnings: SMUT (18+ warnings apply), mentions of birth etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse

"There we go little guy, you're going with Mimi for a little bit," Miles said as he carefully placed tiny Baby Jesse into his mother's arms.

"You sure you're ok with me and your father taking him for a bit?" Kathy asked.

"He's gonna need his shots Momma," Miles answered. "And (y/n)'s on strict bedrest per your orders."

Kathy laughed a little. "Alright, alright," she said. "Your dad will have Benny for a little bit and I'll bring Jesse back as soon as we're done at the clinic. No funny business with (y/n), do you hear me?"

"Loud and clear Momma," Miles answered.

"Good, because the last thing we need is Jesse having an Irish twin," she chuckled.

Miles hugged his mother and kissed Jesse's forehead before letting them head for the truck parked just down the path. Thank God it hadn't snowed in a while. He'd be worried sick if something had happened to anyone in his family.

Back upstairs he went to your shared bedroom where you were sitting, propped up in bed, wide awake and eager to get up.

"You ok sweetpea?" Miles asked.

"Just waking up," you yawned, stretching a little.

Miles leaned in and kissed you sweetly. "Feel better?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed into the kiss. "Still a little sore though."

"Where's it hurting?"

"The downstairs area."

Miles smiled and bit his lip, a noticeable heat rising in his cheeks. "You want some help with it?"

You giggled a little. "Do you mind?"

"Not in the least sweetpea," Miles answered. "I'll be right back."

You waited patiently for Miles to come back, trying to ignore the soreness in your crotch. You loved your boys to the moon and back, but the both of them had left you a sore, aching mess on their way out.

"Alright Mrs. Miller, can the doctor have a look?" Miles asked, wiggling his eyebrows a little.

You laughed as you bent your legs upwards, Miles pushing back the skirt of your silky nightgown. You giggled a little as he shined his tiny handheld flashlight between your legs, himself unable to control the grin on his face. You wanted to smack him when you heard him pretending to make his voice echo into your hole.

"Will you stop?!" you laughed.

"Sorry sweetie, it's just a little wider than when you had Benny," he answered.

You groaned at your husband's smartass remark, fighting the urge to smack him on the back of the head.

But God were you in heaven when you felt Miles's hand massaging your sore pussy, manipulating every nerve, every muscle and every little fold in between. Your moans were what kept him going, even as he played with your clit and massaged the area around it.

"Oh God Miles," you groaned with relief. "I'm in fucking heaven."

Miles giggled a little bit, his finger ghosting over a particularly sensitive spot and eliciting a pleasurable groan from your throat.

"Wish you could stick your cock in me," you sighed.

"Ah ah," Miles warned you gently. "Not for at least six weeks my love."

You squeaked as he turned your aching pussy into a slick mess, Miles's fingers working their magic until you could no longer hold it in. You came right on his fingers, your hips pushing up just slightly, leaving Miles's fingers and most of his hand coated in your slickness.

"You did so good for me baby," Miles chuckled, leaning up to kiss you. "I'm proud of you."

You laughed as he kissed your cheeks, disappearing for just a minute to wash his hands and run you a hot bath. Miles helped you get as cleaned up as possible, helping you wash out your hair and every square inch of your body he could possibly reach.

"Felling better sweetpea?" he asked.

"Much better Miles," you replied, kissing him back. "Any chance you can give it another look tomorrow?"

"I wouldn't mind in the least," Miles chuckled.

#miles miller #miles miller x reader #bad times at the el royale

[potatothots]

Ruminating

Genre: Drama: dark!bucky barnes, winter soldier!Bucky barnes, enhanced!reader

Rating: Explicit - sex, talk of death

Pairings: bucky barnes x reader

Warnings: dark bucky, the winter soldier, sex, blow job (m recieving), bad thoughts, mentions of drug use, reader has powers (vague in what they are), talk of death (winter solider’s handiwork)

Summary: Bucky can’t help but let obsessive thoughts run through his mind at night. His girl helps him out.

Note - I'm not your guardian. You read what you want. I can't stop you. If you don't heed the warnings, too bad for you, not me.

I wrote it quick and tried to beta myself. Potatos aren’t the best at editing their own work.

Ruminating

Sometimes sex with his girl isn't about pleasure. It's about letting their minds shut off for a few moments. It's more akin to a drug high - not that it doesn't feel good, but that the pleasure is a side effect. 

Bucky remembers being drugged in Hydra. It wasn't always bad. When they experimented with some shit he wished he could get now, the euphoric feeling was enough to mellow him out. The thick, transparent liquid made him easier to handle, but left him lazy. To his dismay they stopped giving it to him. 

"Babe?" He hears his precious doll yawn out her worry. "We're safe here. You need sleep." 

She always knew him better than any other. That's why he had to keep her safe. She knew who he really was and accepted it without hesitation. She also lied to the faces of anyone who would question it. 

James Barnes was a killer. And he enjoyed it.

Going overseas in the war he thought he'd die. He would never see Steve again. Never feel the touch of some broad. 

Turns out the weight of a weapon in his hands was better than anything he knew. Even when Steve came to save them, he didn't care so long as he could watch someone's life be terminated via his hands. 

He felt his doll stir. She moved closer to him. Her head rested near his thigh. She let out a soft breath that tickled the hair there. 

"Your thinking is invading my ability to sleep." Her voice was muffled as she kissed his skin. 

He grunted in response. His attention fully on her now, he watched as she kissed across his skin. He was already hard thinking about the moments the life would drain from someone's eyes because of him. 

The world came to a halt when he felt her mouth on his cock. His hands flew to her hair. "Their eyes don't compare to yours." His fingers tightened around her silky locks. "They were always too weak to accept the truth. Fuck, doll-!" His mind goes fuzzy for a moment as she grabs his balls. 

He wonders if she knows he's speaking about the dead he's left in his wake. She knows he can't stop his thoughts at times like this. He tries to feel bad, knowing he only allows her in his head. Someone has to keep him calm. 

He pushes her further down on him. He can feel his dick hit the back of her throat, then slide beyond. She coughs. Gags when his hips snap up. He doesn't stop. She doesn't ask him to. 

He can feel her saliva mixed with his precum wet his thighs and the bed under him. He chases the mind numbing feeling by using her throat to stop the thoughts in his head. It hurts her, but he doesn't care. They give and take their sadistic natures equally. 

Her tiny hands squeeze his balls again. The blunt tips of her nails stings his sensitive skin. Her puffy, abused lips tighten around his cock as she gives him one last suck.  It's all he needs to cum. 

Some of it goes down her throat. Most falls out of her mouth and onto him. It's a mess of spit, cum, and tears all over the inside of his thighs, and his cock. It leaks down his balls and to the sweaty mess of the sheets under him. He lets her head go with a loud sigh of relief.

The running of the moisture that cools and sticks to his skin is all he can feel for a blissful moment. He's hazy. Nothing matters right now. 

He vaguely notices - because he notices everything she does - that she's taken her night shirt off and cleaned her face. She kisses him on the corner of his mouth, helping him lay down. He can feel the sticky mess under him, but he can't care. 

She rolls onto her side facing him. Her hand makes small circles on his skin until she passes back out. He can barely feel it. As if it's a ghost touching him. He feels foggy, dumb, and satisfied. He wonders if she did something beyond letting him fuck her mouth. 

He wonders if she'd do it again.

#dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barned x enhanced!reader #winter soldier x reader

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Steve's Sister - Eddie Munson X Female Reader

Title: Steve's Sister

Eddie Munson X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Steve (Mentioned), Dustin, and the rest of the Hellfire Club members (Mentioned)

WC: 898

Warnings: Steve is back in high school for the sake of the story, with slight suggestiveness, and slight angst

"Eddie, this is Steve's sister, Y/N. Y/N, this is Eddie, our Dungeon Master." Dustin introduced the two.

You smiled at Eddie, bringing out your hand to shake his. "It's nice to meet you, Eddie."

With a smug smirk on his face, Eddie gently took your hand in his, but instead of shaking it he brought it to his lips, placing a kiss on your knuckles. Your face red, you gaped at him for a few seconds before you were finally able to muster up some words. "Such a gentleman..."

He grinned back at you with deep brown eyes as he said, "I didn't know Steve had such a pretty sister."

You blushed, dropping your arm back to your side. "I usually stay out of the limelight unlike my brother."

Stuffing his hand in his black ripped jeans, Eddie couldn't wipe the smile off his face. "I don't know how I never noticed you before."

You shrugged, about to say something but Eddie continued.

"Do you want to join us for D&D?"

You bit your lip, nodding. "Yeah, that sounds fun."

Eddie's smile widened. "You play?"

You shrugged again, "Sort of, not as good as the kids are though."

Eddie chuckled and wrapped his arm around your shoulders before leading you and the kids down to the D&D room.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, stick with me. I'll show you the ropes."

ɤ ɤ ɤ

You sat next to Eddie, watching as the group of freshmen tried to outwit Eddie but with no luck. Eddie would fistbump the air when winning a small round, his other hand landing on your knee, or your hand in your lap. Leaning your head on his shoulder, you yawn softly. Eyes heavy with sleep as you rested your eyes

Dustin looked your way after a while, thinking you fell asleep. Eddie wrapped his arm around you, making sure you were comfortable. Dustin glared at Eddie and pointed a finger at him.

"Don’t get too comfortable, Eddie, she’s off limits." He spoke and Eddie furrowed his eyebrows.

"Oh? Why is that?"

Dustin lowered his voice, "She's Steve's sister, remember?"

Eddie blinked, looking back at you. "Yeah, and?"

Dustin sighed, frustrated. "He'd freak out."

You inhaled through your nose, this seemed to always happen when she was with any boy around her age. It was getting annoying. Breathing in Eddie's scent that coated his jacket, you sighed. "I don't care, Dustin." You mumbled softly, surprising the group and Eddie.

Eddie was quiet for a few moments before he asked, "What do you mean?"

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could get a word out, Dustin interrupted you.

"Because she's his little sister! He has a bat in the trunk of his car, you know." Dustin argued back.

“A bat in his car?”

You cut Eddie off. "Please, Dustin, just let it go."

Eddie placed his large hand over his chest. "Just because she’s Steve's sister doesn't mean I can't spend time with her."

You cleared your throat, gaining Dustin's attention. "I appreciate your concern, Dustin. But, I am my own person. I can see whomever I want. Steve doesn't control any aspect in my life." You huffed, crossing your arms. "And if he has anything to say, he can talk to me about it."

Dustin sighed and shook his head, “I’m just trying to warn you both, he won’t be happy.”

“I appreciate your concern, Dustin.” You spoke and Dusin nodded before they resumed the game.

Eddie shook his head, rubbing your thigh. "I'm sorry, Y/N." He apologized softly.

You shook your head, taking his hand in yours. "It's not your fault, Eddie."

Eddie squeezed your hand and gave you a soft kiss on your forehead. "I really shouldn't get Steve angry. I’m not worth it."

You smiled up at him, nuzzling your nose against his. "You are so worth it, Eds. I don’t care what Steve thinks. There is nothing he could ever say that would ever question my relationship with you.”

Eddie bit his lip to stop the tears in his eyes, he didn’t want to cry in front of the kids. His heart swelled with such love and admiration. Eddie just smiled, kissing your cheek quickly before letting you go and continuing the game.

ɤ ɤ ɤ

Placing your things in your locker, you were slightly started when arms wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you back into a firm chest. The sound of rattling buttons made you smile. 

Eddie spun you around, whispering, "Good morning, sweetheart."

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his deep brown eyes. "Good morning."

Eddie smiled before leaning in and kissing you, leaning his arm against the locker beside yours, effectively caging you in. As more people came flowing through the school doors, Eddie pulled away leaning against the locker beside yours.

“You know I don’t care what Steve says, right?” You tried to reassure Eddie, but he just nods.

“Of course, babe. Just don’t want you to be late for class.” He spoke with a smug grin, turning you around once more towards your class, tapping you on the butt to get you on your way.

Sighing, you walked to your class, glancing back at Eddie who smiled as he watched you go before pulling out a metal box and going to the forest behind the school.

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #cute #fluff #slight angst #steve's sister #Y/n harrington #stranger things s4 #protective dustin

[weepinglevi]

patience is a virtue

summary: college!au. all aged up. eren and reader continue with their sexual escapades. find part one here! warnings: 18+ minors dni. dirty text messages, dirty talk. dom!eren and bratty reader (i suppose?). throat fucking and semi-public sex. (no p in v tho) word count: around 3.5k A/N: i have a love/hate relationship with this eren ahaha, he's been ruling my brainrot ever since the last part so i hope you enjoy! there will be a part three eventually, so be on the lookout for that! enjoy your read and feedback is greatly appreciated! xx

you awake to your phone vibrating somewhere next to you. the hope of it only being a one-time occurrence quickly proven to be false as it just wouldn't stop. brr-brr. a second of silence. brr-brr. pause. brr-brr.

taking a mental note to never go to sleep again without turning off your phone, you roll over to your other side and try to ignore it. you could simply answer the texts, but that meant you'd have to open your eyes. and that whoever was texting you would win this weird battle you've just come up with in your head.

"if you don't pick up your goddamn phone, i'll smack you over the head with it," sasha groans from the other side of your shared dorm, words coming slurry with her tiredness.

brr-brr.

"i could also stick it up your ass, your decision," a pillow comes flying to your head, serving as enough of a warning for you to sit up in your bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

"quit moaning, i'll turn it off now," you yawn, feeling around your bed for your phone, "you never hear me complaining about the shit you do in the middle of the night."

"that's because my shit is funny and not fucking annoying," she scoffs, followed by a muted thump as she is sinking back down into her pillows. sasha's way of ending the conversation.

you find your phone half-tucked underneath your pillow, the display already lighting up again. someone is desperate for attention, you think to yourself and unlock your phone with an annoyed sigh. the messages were coming from an unknown number.

thinking about your wet pussy. this is eren, btw. historia gave me your number. i told her you wouldn't mind you don't mind, do you?

in a matter of seconds, your heart is beating in your throat once more, just like this afternoon in that godforsaken computer lab. ears growing hot at his words, you could almost imagine the sound of him laughing at you again. with trembling fingers, you scroll down further.

anyway, let's do it again sometime i told you. i'll never let you forget about how you moaned my name i'm also not forgetting about how badly i want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours, so it's a win-win see ya, then

staring down at your phone, you don't know if you should answer him. and even if you would answer his texts, what the hell should you say? "fucking bastard," the words escaping your mouth before even realizing that you'd better keep quiet. the only thing that could make this situation any worse was if sasha were to wake up again.

scratch that, you think as you see eren's new messages.

how badly do you want to suck my cock? you looked really hot today, covered in my cum what, you're shy again?

there are two ways this could go: either you stand up, put on some clothes, and then go to eren's dorm to let hell rain upon him - or simply mute your phone and ignore him. deciding to go with the latter, you lie back down and save his number as "fuckhead", a small grin forming on your face. if he wants to be childish, then you can be, too.

the display still lighting up at a steady pace, you have to fight the urge to open his other messages. to physically prevent yourself from grabbing your phone again, you put your hands between your thighs and sigh. what the hell have i gotten myself into?

"so, who am i gonna have to teach some manners today?", sasha asks in the morning, "because there are only two valid reasons for sending that many texts in the middle of the night," she sits up in her bed and bends over to reach for her phone, "either someone's dead or there's a food sale."

cringing at the thought of having to read the countless other messages eren has sent throughout the night, you try to laugh at her comment, "of course, when there's food involved, you're all for it."

"girl's gotta eat," she claims, thankfully being too distracted by something on her phone to notice your strange behavior, "i'm gonna be back later than usual today, connie wants me to be his wingman again."

starting to go off on a tangent about how connie should just get a dating app already, sasha's words become more of background noise to you. you want to know what he wrote. what he has in store for you. at the same time, you curse yourself out. you're turning into a headless chicken and all of it because of eren fucking yeager?

you nod here and there, offering her a "yes" at what you believe to be fitting moments, desperately hoping she doesn't catch up on your restlessness. all the while the two of you are getting ready for the day. this goes on for a few more minutes and you have no clue what she's talking about now, so you decide to grab your phone and stand up.

"i'm gonna go for a run around campus, you want coffee?" you blurt out, interrupting her monologue. the device in your hand feels as if it's burning through your skin. slipping into your trainers, you're already halfway out the room, her perplexed "uh- yes, please," being muffled by the door closing behind you.

it's still warm outside - not as hot as yesterday, but warm enough for you to be glad to have forgotten your cardigan earlier. you let out a deep breath, trying to clear your mind. even though you told sasha you'd be out for a run, you walk at a slow pace.

some people are already wandering around campus, most of them on their way to a lecture. at this time in the morning, everyone has their heads full with their own worries so no one notices you slowly making your way off-campus.

arriving at a little park surrounded by trees, you sit down on the bench farest off. you notice your heart fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird when pulling the phone out of your back pocket. fuck him, you think once again while typing in your code. fuck him for making me feel this way.

12 unread messages.

didn't seem all too shy when i had my hand wrapped around your throat no need to play hard to get when i already had you if that makes sense? haven't fucked you yet doesn't mean i won't get to fuck you

all you want is to feel appalled by these messages. to screenshot them and send them to the dean. maybe even to his mother. sickened with yourself though, you already feel the familiar warmth creeping up your body, curling up in your abdomen.

i know you want it, too how fucking needy you were for me getting yourself off in public to the thought of me maybe you can tell me what exactly you were thinking of? gonna make sure to let your dreams come true, princess

pet names? you clench your fist at the thought of eren leaning over you, breathing the word princess into your ear. you have an inkling that he'd say it mockingly; spitting it out whilst gathering your hair in a ponytail, arching your back forcefully, and slamming his length into you without mercy.

no. you hate pet names. at least, you've always hated them.

i'm gonna find out if you're ignoring me right now remember, you're not the best actress. fucking suck at it, actually wouldn't want to be punished now, would we?

his last message echoed in your head. still coming to terms with the fact of what happened yesterday, now you have to deal with a whole new revelation: eren yeager being a cocky motherfucker pushing all the right buttons for you. even though you want to blast his ass for this, the mere thought of him being near you again is too sweet of an imagination.

you want to play this game, too. for whatever reason keep on riding this high, and you just know that no one could do it quite as well as eren can. somehow you can only imagine taking him on this ride with you, no one else.

so, in that manner you decide to ignore his messages. if he's desperate enough to keep on sending them in the middle of the night, you're sure it won't be long until he sends another text. and it would give him enough reason to try and punish you, whatever that might entail – you're excited to find out. fucking nervous, too. but then again, who wouldn't be?

you stand up and put your phone in your back pocket, a sense of excitement surrounding your steps as you turn left to make your way to the nearest coffee shop.

"something tells me you're ignoring me," of course, the moment eren's voice comes up behind you, you fucking flinch like a little bird that's been scared away, "mostly because i've seen you reading the messages, but what do i know?"

you turn to see him clutching his heart dramatically, "don't play with my feelings like this," he swoons, bringing one hand to his forehead. he's laughing again, all white teeth and bright smiles – you realize this is the kind of eren you rarely get to see. not the cocky bastard he normally portrays; right now, he seems to be a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, just enjoying himself. still, you want to show him that you can play just as well as he can.

crossing your arms in front of your chest, you slightly raise a brow, trying your hardest to not look as nervous as you feel. it's a lost cause though because you can already feel the tips of your ears glowing with heat again. can't things go my way for once? just once? you think and chew the inside of your cheek. you felt so sure of yourself just moments ago. how the hell can he have this sort of effect on you?

suddenly, his whole demeanor changes. before, he seemed laid-back, entertained by the game he played with you. now he leans forward, hands in the pockets of his jacket and an almost cruel smile forming on his lips, "don't try to challenge me in this. you'll lose."

you know that you should feel frightened. terrified, even. he's looking like a lion preparing to jump the antelope, a sense of alarming calmness around him that's causing the small hairs on your neck to stand up. but alas, the way he's looking at you seems to have the same effect on you his scent has.

"i told you not to ignore me," eren says and takes a few steps closer to you, "yet here you are, doing it again." the chuckle leaving his lips a stark contrast to his stern gaze, still trained on you. somehow, you feel awfully small again - still not frightened, though. you stare right back at him, tilting your head slightly as if you wanted to say "so what?"

"are you seriously that desperate to be punished?"

better now than never, you think and once again place a courtly smile on your lips, "seems like it."

for a split second, you see eren's smug look turn into a genuine smile. realizing that you're up for his game, he lets out a smooth whistle, "you do surprise me."

"if you wouldn't always be so full of yourself, i'm sure you'd have recognized this sooner," you can feel the confidence growing in yourself again. clinging on to it, you take a step toward him, "i'm full of surprises."

"oh, yeah? i bet you are," from the corner of your eye, you can see him lifting his hand. before thinking twice about it, you bat it away, "i'm not one for public displays of affection."

oh, it is on– eren's smirk turns into a full-fledged grin as he takes a grip of your wrist, "you sure about that?" lifting your hand to his face, for a short moment you think he's going to suck on your fingers again. but all he does is place a faint kiss on the back of your hand, "didn't seem like it yesterday."

"you weren't supposed to see."

"but i'm so glad i did," he leans forward, the two of you standing so close you can feel his breath on your face, "or else we wouldn't have this kind of fun right now."

still having a hold of your hand, he lifts his other to your jaw, gently tracing his thumb across your lower lip, "you looked so pretty in your skirt yesterday."

taking a leap of faith, you grab his hand, holding it in place and letting your tongue run across the tip of his thumb before biting down playfully. there's a hiss and then eren pulls away and grabs your arm, "come with me."

finally, you think and let him guide you to wherever he wants, let's have some fun, then.

on your way out of the park, you pass jean and marco. even though they stand to greet eren, he just raises his hand whilst not breaking his pace, "gotta go, have an assignment to work on."

"never seen you that determined, but go off," jean laughs.

before you know it, you're inside one of the countless maintenance sheds. pushing you against the wall, eren's movements seem to become more and more erratic by the second. pinning your arms over your head, he's looking down at you, breathing heavily. "you have no idea what you just got yourself into," licking his lips, he chuckles.

"oh, but i think i actually do," you smile innocently, fucking glad to have found your normal self again. admittedly, eren threw you off your game since yesterday – but it's just going to play into your hands now. he won't see it coming until it's hitting him straight in the face; that you're just as messed up as he seems to be.

"then prove it," he breathes against your ear, "tell me how badly you want it."

the stuffy air inside the dimly lit shed doesn't help with keeping eren's scent away from you. being so close to him, looking up into his shadowed face and right into his dilated eyes; you're like putty in his hands. you try to move forward, to touch him in some way because you just know that he'll feel so good under your skin.

"now now, princess," he moves even closer, wedging you between himself and the wall, "how about we learn some patience, first?"

you nod, but then grind up against his thigh, hissing through your teeth, "i worry i'll be a real handful." you know you could very well move your hands, too – eren seems to still be testing the waters as to how far he can go with you. but with him actually letting you grind on him; you decide to play into his hands.

your breaths grow quicker as you keep on, pace becoming erratic. all you want is to get rid of your track pants – come to think of it, what you actually want is eren under you whilst you continuously bounce on his cock. you want to hear him call you princess and immediately after call you his little whore because that's exactly what you are.

eren has a little smile on his lips and you know you should ask yourself why – because you're doing exactly what he has forbidden you to do – but you're too far gone. the heat growing, you feel your knees buckle but he's holding you up; one hand now resting on your waist for support. you're so close –

and then he pulls away from you, nearly causing you to topple over. chest heaving, you place your hands on your knees for balance, "what the fuck was – "

"patience is a virtue," interrupting you with a laugh, but his voice heavy with lust, "thought i might give you a lesson you're ought to remember."

you look up to see eren palming his erection through his pants, standing about an arm's length away from you, "but i have to admit, hearing you getting yourself off is fucking hot."

biting your teeth together, you straighten up and take a step toward him – only for him to click his tongue in disapproval, "you're gonna stay right there," tugging at his pants he raises his eyebrow, "i told you what i want, get on your knees for me."

"the fuck i will," you spit out and make a move again, grasping for his waistband. but eren is quick to take a hold of your hand and pushes you back to the wall, "come on, now, princess," he chuckles but his eyes are concentrated at you, "you want this, don't you?". he's asking for permission, the thought feeling very comforting to you. and also, very excited for what's about to come.

"of course, i do," you answer him earnestly, resting the back of your head against the wall, "or else i wouldn't be here."

"fantastic," he breathes, a little smile playing in the corners of his mouth, "then get down on your knees," placing his hands on your shoulders, weighing you down, "i won't ask again."

the change of tone in his voice has you nodding, slowly sinking onto your knees, you're bursting in anticipation. one hand finally pulling down his pants, he runs his other through your hair, then down your jaw until it comes to rest on your chin.

thumbing at your lower lip, he groans "do i have to be careful?"

you just shake your head no. then you break away from his gaze, fixing your eyes on the bobbing cock in front of you. it's tip leaking with precum already, you remember how badly you wanted to lick it away yesterday.

taking his cock at its base, you bend forward and slide your tongue around its head. the salty taste sending shudders down your spine, you make sure to lift your eyes again once you prepare to take it all down your throat. your other hand snakes up to his balls, slightly tugging them which earns you a moan from eren, and fuck, you're so wet at the sound alone, you let go of his cock and slide one hand down to your own center.

he gathers your hair in one hand, taking the base of his throbbing cock in the other, "bet this is what you thought of yesterday," he slowly but surely pulls your head in closer, "of how i fuck the words right out of you."

bucking your hips into your own hand, you can do nothing but whimper at his words. because yes, this is exactly what you imagined. he's only halfway in and you're already struggling to breathe, but not wanting him to stop you hold your breath and push down even further; trying desperately not to moan.

the tears in your eyes causing your vision to be blurry, you attempt to blink them away.

"shit – ", he's pumping into you now, rubbing the tears from your cheeks and then placing both his hands on your head, "you're doing so well – "

getting lost in his words, the fear of being caught is so far away; you finally moan around his cock. saliva soaking the hem of his shirt, you can't seem to take his whole length, no matter how hard you try. you're a fucking mess under him and the thought alone is nearly sending you over the edge.

he's trying to pull away now and you know he's close, so you snake your hand around his hip, hoping this is enough of a sign to him that if he dared to cum anywhere else than down your throat, you'd bite him.

"you really – " his voice is hoarse, "fuck – this is fucking perfect," he moans as he comes to the realization. leaning his arm against the wall behind you, he's fucking himself into your mouth, his panting and the sound of your choking filling the room.

you close your eyes to blink the tears away again, but eren pulls on your hair, "no – look at me."

with this the knot in your belly explodes, leaving you holding on to eren's hip as you ride the waves of electricity that are running through your body like lava.

"such a good little whore – " he's gone as well, holding your head in place as he's pumping his load down your throat, leaving you no other option than to swallow – which you eagerly do. you feel his legs shaking under your hands.

once again, eren hands you his shirt to clean your face. this time, you take it with a smile, noting that, "i still have your other one."

"don't worry, i'll come get it sometime when sasha's away," the two of you know exactly what this means – neither of you are planning on this to be over anytime soon.

"i'll let you know, then," you nod and stand up, hoping you don't look as well-fucked as you feel, and make your way to the door, "she's gone most of the time."

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#eren yeager smut #eren x you #eren jaeger smut #eren x reader #aot smut #aot x you #snk smut #snk x you #aot fic #eren fic #college au #tw: semi public sex #nsfr #weepinglevi writes

[starks-hero]

I Remember All of Them

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky has a nightmare and it leads to a late night conversation.

Word Count: 2,029

Warnings: angst, mentions of canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol

You'd woken up to an empty bed. You had turned on your side and lazily run your hand along the mattress, hoping to find a broad chest or metal arm but instead being greeted with an empty space beside you.

Your feet met the cool floorboards as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood. You couldn't help but worry as you pulled on one of Bucky's shirts and left the room. You tried rationalising your thoughts despite your tired mind. Maybe he just couldn't sleep and went out on a run, he could have been in the bathroom, there were multiple harmless and simple possibilities. But the fear that it might just be something else, something bad, was enough to stir you from bed and go looking for him.

Your footsteps echoed in the hallway as you made your way to the kitchen and you sighed when you found Bucky sitting on a stool at the counter. Your relief melted away as you took in his appearance. He was hunched over the counter, arms crossed and hair dishevelled with what you recognised as a glass of scotch sitting idle in front of him. A weight set in your chest.

"Bucky," you said timidly and he jumped at your voice. He turned to you with a fearful expression, the metal of his arm whirling and clanking in defence as if he were ready for a fight. But when he realised it was you his tough, soldier facade fell away and he exhaled slowly. He didn't say anything, slumping further down in his chair as you joined him in the darkened room, not bothering to turn on the light.

You gingerly placed your hand against his shoulder and he almost unnoticeably flinched away. Your heart sank.

"Nightmare?" You asked and he nodded silently, hardened glare boring into the marble of the counter. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"Didn't want to scare you," he grumbled.

He didn't say anything else as you took a seat next to him, your hand slipping from his shoulder and resting against his bicep.

"You think when I wake up in the middle of the night and you're not there it's any less scary?"

Bucky sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. He glanced at you with tired eyes.

"I'm sorry."

He hadn't meant to worry you. When he'd woken up in a cold sweat with a scream dying in his throat and turned to find you sleeping peacefully beside him he felt panic swell in his chest. The nightmare wasn't any different than the rest of them. It felt just as real as the others. But it's what had happened in the dream, what he'd done, that filled him with the overwhelming urge to get away from you. His subconscious couldn't help but torture him further by replacing the image of his victim with you. And replacing their screams with your voice, begging him to stop.

"It's okay, baby." Your voice pulled him back and grounded him. "Why don't you tell me what happened," you coaxed gently and he immediately shook his head.

"Don't want to."

"Bucky-"

"I can't," he said quickly, his voice sharp. He swallowed and shook his head and you noticed the tears building in his eyes. Gently, you slowly ran your hand up his arm and brushed it through his hair. He exhaled frailly.

"Why not?"

It was quiet for a moment as Bucky wrung his hands. His gaze lingered on the intricate workings of the vibranuim for a few seconds more before he closed the prosthetic hand into a loose fist.

"I don't want to lose you," he admitted quietly. His voice was barely above a whisper and he refused to look at you as you listened attentively, comfortingly rubbing his back. He felt his chest grow tighter as everything else fell past his parted lips all at once. "You're all I have. You're the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time and I can't risk losing you. I can't."

Your expression saddened as Bucky hid his face in his hands. You carefully wrapped an arm around him and pulled him into your side and he went willingly, flesh arm wrapping around your neck. You shushed him gently and his aching muscles relaxed against you. Horrifying images from his nightmare flashed to the forefront of his mind but he did his best to dismiss them as he clutched onto you tighter.

"You won't lose me, Bucky. I'm not going anywhere." You pulled back slightly and cupped his face with your free hand, your thumb tracing his cheek. "Your past doesn't scare me. I promised you that I'd stick by you no matter what happens and I meant it. You don't have to hide from me, Buck."

Your hand fell from his cheek and gently rested against his forearm and he did his best to focus on your touch. He took a deep breath as he sat up and cleared his throat.

"When I have them they feel so real it's like I'm reliving it. They're not just nightmares, they're memories. And I remember all of it." He said quietly, eyes not leaving the counter. He felt his stomach tie itself in a knot and an uncomfortable weight setting in on his chest. Yet he willed himself to keep going.

"Tonight it was a mission in Germany, sometime during the eighties. A hydra intel agent had gone rough and they sent me to take care of him. Hydra couldn't afford to have any loose ends so it was my job to tie them all up. I eliminated the target like I was supposed to but-"

He hesitated and inhaled sharply. He was fidgeting anxiously, his fingers tapping relentlessly against the counter. His hand was itching to reach out and take the glass of liquor still sat in front of him. If anything just to feel something other than the pain in his chest. But he with-held the urge. He knew it wouldn't help, but telling you would.

"A young couple saw. Jesus, they were just kids." His voice broke. "But I had my orders. No witnesses. So, I killed them."

Tears pricked his eyes and he found it difficult to hold them at bay. A lump was forming in his throat and he felt moments away from breaking.

"I killed them."

He gritted his teeth as he grappled with himself and the tears began to fall. The nightmare had been among the worst he'd had in months. He'd learned to find a certain peace in some, knowing those he killed were bad, corrupt people who had hurt others. But this time that wasn't the case. They were innocent and young and had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. They could have had a life together. Bucky couldn't help but think how if it had not been for him then they could have been married with children, grandchildren by now. But they weren't. Their lives had been cut short by him.

You stood and pulled him into a gentle embrace as a quiet sob left his lips. Your hand ran through his hair as he rested his head against your stomach. Still seated, his arms encircled your waist.

You let him cry as he held onto you like a lifeline. Only when the tears had stopped and his voice had been reduced to a hoarse whimper did his grip ease ever so slightly. You pulled away and sat back down facing him. His expression was blank as he glanced at his hands, pale cheeks still stained by tears and his eyes red and puffy.

You reached up and gingerly brushed away the tears still clung to his cheek with the pad of your thumb.

"Bucky," you tried timidly but he didn't look at you. "Baby, listen to me."

He sighed and brokenly lifted his head. The vulnerability in his eyes made your heart ache. You kept your tone soft and reassuring.

"What happened wasn't your fault. You didn't have a choice. You're just as much of a victim as they were. Hydra killed those people. Hydra created him, the winter soldier. And he's not you, Bucky. He never was."

With a tired shake of his head, Bucky huffed.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I know you." You answered simply and Bucky's expression softened. "I know the real you. I know you don't like it when people call you James because it makes you feel old. I know that you love reading books and drinking green tea. And I know that even though you say you're not a people person you're really good with kids."

Bucky's brows creased and his lip trembled slightly as he looked to you and hung on to each and every one of your words. You smiled, tenderly tracing his jaw with your hand and he sighed, leaning into your touch.

"You're not a killer, Bucky. Don't blame yourself for something you had no control over. And don't compare yourself to the people who forced you to do it."

Your words hit home and Bucky found himself standing from his seat and pulling you to his chest before his mind could completely catch up with him. He held you tightly, composure threatening to slip away again but this time for a completely different reason. You softly uttered words of comfort as he pressed you to his chest.

"I love you," you said quietly after a moment and you heard, or rather you felt, Bucky chuckle quietly.

"Sometimes I can't help but wonder why."

His hands didn't leave the small of your back as you pulled away just enough to look up at him. Your reassuring smile sent a wave of warmth through him.

"Because you're a better man than you give yourself credit for. And because you're kind-hearted, strong, sweet, brave. I could go on forever. You're a hero, Bucky, and a good man. Whether your mind lets you believe it yet or not."

Sighing with a teary smile, Bucky pulled you closer and pressed a kiss to your temple. You felt the tension slowly melt from his shoulders and tensed muscles. As if a weight had been lifted from his burdened mind.

I love you too." He mumbled against your forehead and you hummed quietly, nuzzling into him. You stood together in shared silence for a few minutes, or maybe more, neither of you were counting. The chill gradually making its way up your spine and nipping at your exposed skin, along with the growing urge to yawn was the only thing that caused you to pull away and break the serenity of the moment. It was still pretty early and a few more hour in bed sounded ideal. You both needed it.

As you pulled away from the warmth of Bucky's embrace your eyes landed on the counter and you heard Bucky quietly sigh beside you.

"I didn't drink any," he explained, motioning to the untouched glass of scotch sitting on the counter top.

You smiled sadly and leaned up to kiss his cheek. He was always so hard on himself. Sometimes he seemed to forget he was only human.

"Don't worry about it, it's okay." You said comfortingly and he let his head fall gently against your shoulder. "Let's get back to bed, hm? We don't have to sleep if you don't want to. You can just rest and we can talk a little more?"

Bucky smiled against you. "I'd like that." A gentle kiss was placed to your shoulder. "Sounds perfect."

You gently caught Bucky's hand as you both left the kitchen and trudged back towards your shared room. The covers and sheets had grown cold as you crawled back into bed but Bucky didn't mind. He didn't mind at all. Certainly not as you lay beside him, his head coming to rest against your shoulder as your hand worked its way through his dishevelled hair. The nightmares were nothing but a thing of the past as he closed his eyes and sighed. He was home, safe and not alone.

tag list: @miraclesoflove​ @bakerstreethound​ @nahthanks​ @doozywoozy​ @the-queer-dungeoneer​ @kealohilani-tepsie

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #tfatws x reader #bucky fanfic #I was supposed to post this last weekend but decided to wait until after the content freeze

[aceofspadegrass]

Get Sick? Break in!

Characters: Niragi Suguru, Chishiya Shuntaro

Genre: Just a sickfic, I guess. Chishiya's just taking care of a sick Niragi, who is a huge grumpy pants.

1.5k words

Nobody asked for this, I just got bored and decided to write Sick Niragi and Chishiya pretty much breaking into his house just to care for his sick butt then leave.

Of course he'd get sick on a rainy day. At least he didn't have plans, but it sucked that he was sick anyways. He rolls over in bed, pulling the blanket closer to him as he breathed through his mouth, his nose completely and utterly stuffed. He didn't even have the energy to grab any medication, and he didn't exactly live with anybody.

So, here he was, suffering by himself.

At least nobody would take pity on him.

Niragi sneezes, grabbing a slowly diminishing box of tissues and blowing his nose hard. He tosses the dirty tissue into the trash bin that thankfully sat within reach of the man, Niragi curling back under the covers. He might as well attempt to sleep off the sickness. Nothing else he could do.

----

Niragi wakes up to the feeling of a wet rag on his forehead, and his entire body burning. He whines under his breath, tiredly blinking as he kicks off the blanket in irritation. He tries to reach up for the towel, but something stops him, and it's then when Niragi spots the blotch of white kneeling near him, and Niragi squints, his eyes refocusing themselves to the smug looking bastard known as Chishiya. He growls a little, Chishiya calmly staring back.

" How did you get in.....?" Niragi's voice was raspy, but still usable. Chishiya just slowly blinks and pulls Niragi's hand away from his forehead.

" Your friend down the hall let me."

Damn it Last Boss. Damn it all.

" Fuck."

" Hey now, at least someone came to check up on you." Chishiya glances at the blanket, and pulls it back up around Niragi. " Stay under the covers, you'll make yourself worse."

Niragi sticks his tongue out. " You're not my mom."

" I sure hope not, because they raised a bitch."

" You take that back-" Niragi tries to yell, but that strains his throat too much and he starts to cough, Chishiya backing away so he didn't get coughed on. Niragi wished he would, make him suffer with him.

Chishiya just watches him suffer, Niragi groaning and tugging at the blanket, eyes shut. " Can you leave now?"

" See, I would, but now that you asked, now I don't feel like it." Chishiya says with an air of arrogance that Niragi wanted to shoot in the face, but he was a little incapacitated. So he opts to just bury himself in the blankets and attempt to sleep again.

Surprisingly, it works.

Unsurprisingly though, it doesn't last long. He wakes up again an hour later, and just starts coughing again, cringing at how heavy and thick they felt. Niragi grumbles and clings to the blanket, the wet rag at least helping a little bit. Not much, though, but it was better than nothing. He feels a finger poke his cheek, and he cracks an eye open as he looks up at a white blob, immediately scowling.

" Here, take some medicine." Chishiya says, and Niragi can make out a glass of water and what might be a napkin, Niragi grunting as he sits up a little and squints. Sitting on the napkin was two pills, Niragi glancing up at Chishiya for a second. Chishiya doesn't move, Niragi looking at the pills again.

" What do you want."

" Hm?"

" Why are you doing this to me? What motive do you have?" Niragi squints at Chishiya, who kept that same smug look he always had.

" I have no motive. Just felt obligated to make you look less like a drenched sewer rat."

Niragi grumbles, but he swipes up the pills, taking them into his mouth. Chishiya wordlessly hands him the glass of water, Niragi taking a few sips of the chilled drink to wash it down, then a few more to feel the cold wash through his hot body. Chishiya watches him without a word, even when Niragi sets the now empty glass down and curls up under the blanket again. Just barely, Niragi could see Chishiya just standing there, and he glares at the male.

" Leave."

" I'll be on your couch then." Chishiya walks away, Niragi calling after him as best as he could.

" I meant out of my house, you underdeveloped mozzarella!"

Chishiya just waves, and he disappears out of sight, Niragi just grumbling some more. He's not sure of how much time passes, just the slow silence and occasional sniffles coming from himself. He grumbles, and attempts sleep for the third time. However, it escaped him this time, so he had suffer for as long as he had to. He groans under the blanket, the headache getting worse and worse and foggier and foggier.

Chishiya comes back a little later, or at least a white blob did, and Niragi could've sworn the illness got worse somehow, despite taking medication. He just remains curled up under the covers and attempting sleep, breathing through his mouth.

Through the haze, Niragi could barely make out the sound of ceramic hitting wood, and the blanket as tugged away a little, letting in fresh cold air. Niragi involuntarily shivers, muttering and attempting to tug it back up. It fails though, and Niragi squint-glares at the white blob.

" Hi. I made soup." Chishiya says, and clinks a spoon against the bowl. " Now, are you gonna help yourself, or do you want to be fed like a little kid?"

" Fuck off, Chishiya."

Chishiya lowly chuckles, that damn laugh that made Niragi mad and his head hurt even more, Niragi squeezing his eyes shut. Still, when he opens his eyes again, Chishiya is still standing there, just staring down at him with nothing behind those eyes.

" Didn't you hear me? I said-"

" Oh, I heard you. But my name isn't an answer, so......"

Niragi just glares at him, his head just pounding. Like hell was he about to be fed by this box dye bitch. He determinedly attempts to sit up, and Chishiya offers him zero help as bit by bit he manages to get into a sitting position. Niragi huffs, and Chishiya at least carefully hands him the bowl, making sure to balance it well enough on top of the blanket that remained on Niragi's lap so it didn't burn his core. The spoon was already sitting there, innocently. Niragi couldn't smell it at all, but he could feel it. It looked like chicken noodle, some standard soup for the sick. He didn't remember having any chicken noodle though, Niragi taking the spoon and swirling the bits around the broth a few times.

Chishiya doesn't say a word, just standing there and watching, waiting. After way too long, Niragi finally takes a spoonful and sips at it. It tasted exactly as he expected, but somehow under this sick spell it felt like the best damn thing he has ever tasted. So he took another spoonful, this one with a piece of shredded chicken and a carrot peacefully sitting within the broth, and he takes that too. It was soft, yet not mushy at all. A satisfying soup. He lets out a hum of satisfaction. He looks up at Chishiya again, and he almost didn't want to even praise him, but he end up swallowing his overflowing pride, even for a mere second.

" Thanks. It doesn't taste like ass."

Chishiya just hums, hands tucked in his pockets as he continues to stand there. Niragi blinks, then scowls. He looks away and back at the warm and comforting meal, eating as much as he could take in.

Niragi doesn't remember when he ended up eating it all, and he yawns. The soup warmed his core in a good, heavenly way, and he sets the bowl on the bedside table. He barely realizes that Chishiya left at some point, but Niragi didn't care at that point either, crawling back under the covers as his tiredness overtook him, Niragi snoring away 'til morning.

When he wakes up again to a clearer nose and less of a migraine, enough that Niragi felt comfortable enough to leave the comfort of his bed, he shuffled around his house, checking to see whether Chishiya had touched anything he wasn't supposed to. However, as far as Niragi could see, nothing was out of place at all, except for a single note on the benchtop of his kitchen and a lack of dishes. Niragi picks it up, squinting at the tiny handwriting.

' Feel better. It gets boring when you're not being annoying and on the move. And make sure to retake the medication. I put it back in the cabinet, third bottle on the left.- 🐈'

Niragi blinks, then huffs a little, the paper crinkling under his fingertips. " You little......" He throws the paper back down, even though he fills a new cup up with water and the bottle of medication that Chishiya probably used. " How dare you come in, do all this 'care' shit, then just disappear. Absolutely rude and pathetic. Didn't even stay to make sure I didn't die in my sleep-" He mutters to himself, taking the appropriate amount.

Still, somewhere buried in him, he was a little thankful he even showed up in the first place.

#aib #alice in borderland #aib fanfic #alice in borderland fanfic #chishiya shuntaro #niragi suguru #niragi x chishiya #chishiya x niragi #niragi pretends he hates the attention but he probably enjoys it #why did chishiya break into the house in the first place? #who knows #this doesn't exactly take place at the Beach at all #chishiya's a med student #he probably at least attempts to be a good one #niragi is an angry noodle #chishiya don't break into people's houses to play doctor you goof-

[krreader]

BTS reacting to another idol flirting with you when you come and visit them.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts ; monsta x ; exo ; nct ; kard ; seventeen ; super junior ; got7 warnings: language genre: fluff ; crack  word count: 1.7k+

a/n: I’m always scared with these kind of requests that they’re repetitive because I’ve done requests like these before. But I do hope that it’s still fun to read and that you like it ♥

kim seokjin

Jin and you had your anniversary today. However, an idol can't exactly postpone a performance because of a reason such as this one, especially when no fan even knew he was in a relationship in the first place.

You understood, though. You had known what you'd get yourself into the moment you two agreed to turn this into something serious and so you weren't angry at him for doing his job. You had simply agreed that you'd pick him up from the show and then you'd either go and have dinner or drive over to his apartment to cook together, depending on how tired he was.

You must have come a little early though, because when Jin walked out of their dressing room, all ready to go, he found you standing in the hallway talking to Jooheon.

“No, don't be ridiculous. Get your things, I'm driving you there.”

“You're the best and I love you,” Jooheon kissed your cheek, then ran into his dressing room to get his things.

And well, Jin had seen this and stared at you with an open mouth, not quite believing what he had just witnessed, especially the nonchalant look that you had on your face threw him off.

“What? He wants to call someone to pick him up, the address is on our way, we'll just drop him off.”

“And he couldn't say that to you like any other normal human being? He had to say I love you and... kiss your cheek?”

“He’s like family. Jooheon loves you like an older brother. Do you really think he'd ever do something to risk that relationship?”

Probably not.

And when Jooheon walked back out and you three walked to your car, Jin asked: “It's not your apartment. Where are you going?”

“Ah.. it’s.. my girlfriend, hyung.”

No reason to be jealous. None. 

min yoongi

“You're finally awake,” Hoseok laughed when Yoongi opened his eyes and slowly sat up, brushing his hands over his face, “(Y/N) stopped by. But since you were asleep, she wandered off.”

“Where to?” he asked with a yawn.

“Don't know. She said something about needing to see Baekhyun.”

Oh boy, despite the lack of sleep due to him having worked his ass off all night long, he sprinted out of the make-up room in search of you, until he found you talking in an empty hallway with Baekhyun.

“I'm not messing around,” he chuckled, “I'm telling the truth.”

“You're an idiot,” you shook your head, but there was a smile on your face.

“Am I interrupting?” Yoongi stood between you two and since you hadn't exactly been far away from each other, he now suddenly stood very close to Baekhyun.

“Ah, Yoongi,” Baekhyun chuckled a little uncomfortably and took a step back, “We were just.. I mean, we just..-” he cleared his throat, turning around to nothing but emptiness, “Ah, those are my guys. I better get back. Nice talking to you, (Y/N).”

Despite Yoongi being younger, Baekhyun knew when to step back. This must have looked like something it really wasn’t, but from someone that had just walked in, he understood why Yoongi didn’t like what he saw.

“He keeps doing that. They keep doing that. Why do they keep doing that,” Yoongi muttered mostly to himself, then grabbed your hand and interlinked your fingers with his, “You’re mine.”

You giggled a little at how possessive he suddenly became. 

jung hoseok

Hoseok had only left for like five minutes, but when he came back, he found you in deep conversation with Yuta, talking about, what sounded to him like, Yuta asking you to come to Japan with him, because he could easily show you around.

Who did that?

Who asked someone who was in a relationship to go on vacation with him? That wasn’t cool. 

“She's good,” Hoseok interrupted, before Yuta could speak more on it, “We've already planned our next vacations. Japan isn't on the list unfortunately. But thank you for the offer.”

He didn't give him another chance to speak, only waited until Yuta was gone to turn around.

“You just made a fool out of yourself, Hoseok.”

“Because I don't want some guy to take my girlfriend to his home country?”

“Because I asked him if he could make me a list of things that we could do. Japan might not be on our list, but I wanted to add it as a surprise for you,” you shrugged, “Now you ruined it and I doubt he's ever going to talk to me again, because everyone in this industry has too much respect for you. So good job, buddy. Your jealousy once again clouded your judgment.”

He felt like the biggest fucking idiot on the planet.

kim namjoon

This is exactly why Namjoon didn't like taking you to award shows with him.

In a world where everyone was so special, the one that wasn't an idol, but also wasn't a staff member, was the most interesting person in the room. So naturally, everyone was drawn to you. What were you doing here? Who were you with? Where were you from? 

And then there were those who didn't know that you were in a relationship with Namjoon and they just outright asked questions like: Are you still single? Do you want to go out with me?

And unfortunately, tonight was no different.

“I just think it's nice to see someone else who speaks English like me,” Matthew from KARD grinned at you with a little more than simple curiosity in his eyes.

Namjoon saw that little spark and he crossed the room in an instant.

“I don't think it's that special. There are many people here who speak English well, like..-”

“Like her boyfriend,” Namjoon smiled, even though that smile didn't reach his eye. And he didn't want to start trouble here, he actually really liked Matthew and he knew he was older so he wanted to be respectful. So he ended up excusing you two and pulled you away from him, since that seemed to be the best and easiest option to get out of the conversation.

“Jealous, are we?”

“Of him?” Namjoon snorted, squeezing your butt once he was sure that nobody was looking, “I know I don't have to be jealous of anyone, sweetheart.”

His actions told a different story though.

park jimin

Jimin had been so excited about today.

He had practiced so hard for this performance, was ready to show it to his fans and everyone else that was here at this show and to top it all off, you had managed to get a day off and could watch him perform live for the first time in a very long time.

So Jimin walked up on that stage and showed everyone that he was indeed one of the world's most talented singers and dancers, only to walk off stage to find you not beaming at him like he had hoped, but instead, talking with a few guys from Seventeen.

“You're so sweet,” was the first thing Jimin heard you say to the youngest of the group, Dino blushing from ear to ear.

No, this was definitely not what he had hoped, nor wanted.

He was jealous, also a little bit disappointed, but mostly jealous. That is why he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, despite all the sweat.

All of the Seventeen members immediately bowed, almost all scurrying off as soon as he appeared, except for Dino, who lingered a little longer.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he smiled happily at you, then he ran after his members.

You looked up, grinning when you found your boyfriend glaring so hard that if he had laser beam powers, he would glare holes into Dino's back.

“You don't have to be jealous. He told me that he was a fan of my writing style and how I'm the only author he reads articles from nowadays,” Jimin relaxed instantly, but there was still the matter of you not..- “And also, you were fantastic up on that stage. I'm so proud of you, baby.”

Oh, well, in that case.

kim taehyung

Taehyung often felt like you going to award shows with him was kind of pointless, since he was either out watching others perform, or performing himself. He didn't have a lot of time to spend backstage.

But today, they had a really special performance and a rather long one that he wanted you to witness live, especially because he had hyped it up so much beforehand.

Performance in itself was good, but when he walked out and into the green room, he found you at a table with Super Junior members.

“I just think it's really interesting, why you chose him, I mean.”

Taehyung's jealousy flared up to the ceiling and he was about to waltz in there and tell them to leave you alone, despite them being so much older and more experienced, but he was glad that he stopped in his tracks before he did.

“He was there for me when I needed him most, despite him being so busy. We were friends before we became partners and I don't think anyone knows me as good as he does. I'm dating my soulmate, it's as easy as that.”

You shut them up the right way and Taehyung just watched with a soft smile, once again realizing how lucky he was.

jeon jeongguk

The moment that Jeongguk saw you talking to BamBam and Yugyeom, he made his way over and put his hands on your shoulders, beginning to massage them.

“Can you not flirt with my girlfriend please?”

“We just asked her why she didn't pick one of us, but you. We're more handsome than you ever could be,” BamBam teased.

“They actually just asked what cologne you were using today, because you smelled fantastic.”

“Wow, you're such a traitor,” Yugyeom got up, sticking out his tongue before leaving you and Jeongguk on your own.

Jeongguk grinned and leaned down to kiss your cheek, whispering a soft: “I love you,” into your ear.

Dream team.

#bts imagine #bts reactions #bts x reader #bts #bangtan #bangtan reaction #bangtan boys #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #bangtan sonyeondan #reader #bangtan x reader #bangtan boys x reader #requests

[elriel-oblivion]

WHO'S READY FOR SOME HARDCORE NSFW 🔥😈

Ashes from the Deep

Part IV

--

Just kidding! 😅

Lol, sorrynotsorry for that fake intro haha, but here's part four for real 😅 Thanks to everyone who read/liked/commented on/reblogged the last part, I really do appreciate all your support 😊🥰🥰

Shoutout to @julesherondalex again for finding one of my fave paragraphs ☺️☺️ I think I only have one fave line this time 😅 And thanks to all who comment their own faves!! I really like seeing what you like in each piece - and it def helps me gauge what kinda writing/literary techniques work and engage people the most 😊😊

I hope nobody's disappointed by this part lol, I really enjoyed writing it in tandem with the previous one 😅

Word count: 4.1K. Lemme know if you'd like to be tagged/removed

I've also finally posted all four parts to AO3 if anyone prefers to read there 😊

Ashes from the Deep

Part IV

--

The water falling from the jug to Azriel’s head was the only sound in the bathroom. His hair absorbed the water, darkening to a midnight gleam. A thin breeze entered the room, and now without a blanket, Elain's exposed arms prickled with goosebumps.

Elain plunged a hand into his hair, breaking the mud between her fingertips. A quiet breath passed through his mouth and the corners of her lips rose.

She rubbed his scalp, coaxing as much dirt to the surface as she could before guiding another jug of water through his hair. Some of the mud drained away, some clods of sediment sticking to the basin. She poured over a final jug and stained water trickled into the drain. The warmth of the water tickled through her skin, replacing the cold from outside.

‘Is that nice?’ she asked, brushing the water through his hair with both hands.

His body seemed to relax, one foot sliding forward a little. ‘It is,’ he said thickly. He cleared his throat.

Her fingers continued to gently work at his head, and when sure his hair was completely wet, she ran the bar of soap under the tap. Soft lavender entered her nose and she inhaled deeply. That calm scent loosened her own muscles; this could be as much a session of serenity for her as she hoped it'd be for Azriel.

So long as she held taut the chain on her heart.

Soap foaming, she immersed her hands back into his thick hair, forming a lather. The lavender smell intensified, a wave of tranquility sweeping over her. She blinked slowly, as though her mind were wading through water.

Another sigh from him drew her attention back to his head. She needed to focus on this task; for Azriel, she could stay awake a little longer, especially since she’d already started.

Her fingertips massaged his skull, pressing a little deeper at the base where knots had a tendency to form. Elain moved her own neck, a sharp stab sparking at the top of her spine.

She hadn’t mentioned it to anybody yet – didn’t even know if she would – but her visions had been so feverish the past fortnight. Sleep felt like a luxury as she tossed and turned with psychedelic madness flashing behind her eyes. A turquoise expanse of sparkling ocean, birds shaped from sunset, glittering gowns in every shade, and a too-wide smile with pointed teeth were just a few of the recurring images attacking her every night.

Bathing before bed wasn't helpful. She'd hoped the calming scents of the herbs she'd found would be enough to pacify her mind and lull her to sleep. So far, there was no positive result beyond a loosening of her muscles. At least some of those herbs relieved the intensity of the dark circles round her eyes.

Mellow darkness, however, was a true reprieve, one which she found in her garden in those quiet evening hours, when the sky, having bled through its saturated sunset, was awash with deep muted blues.

As if she’d summoned it, a similar darkness manifested around Azriel’s body, swirling thickest about his head like a black cloud. His shadows rose like vapour, tendrils reaching out and twining about him.

Elain’s hands were hidden among those dark whorls, and they whispered on her skin in cool caresses. She leaned over his head and said, ‘Azriel?’

His eyes flicked open. ‘Huh?’

There was something boyish and confused in the way he blinked and she laughed lightly. ‘Your shadows are sort of hiding your head.’

He turned his head an inch or two. ‘Sorry,’ he said, and those shadows began sweeping over each other, wisps kissing her as Azriel pulled them in.

Elain’s hands were stationary until those shadows were completely reeled in, a faint frown on Azriel’s face. Sorrow lurked there, perhaps that he couldn’t be cocooned in that safe space.

Guilt coated the chain around her heart.

‘Don’t be,’ she murmured. Did he hear the shame in her voice? She hoped not; he should be resting, not worrying about Elain’s feelings. ‘You can close your eyes again.’

He did, but not before she caught a shadow lingering behind his eyes. Were they a glimpse into the shadows he leashed within himself, or were they a reflection of something darker, more sinister, perhaps?

That guilt began to cut into her heart now, icy claws digging. Cold squeezed her chest, a cold unrelated to the outside breeze breathing over her skin. How could she think Azriel was sinister? After the countless times he’d reached out to comfort her, be with her, listen to her – and the sincere light she saw in his eyes. Even the hope Rhysand had spoken of that day of the last battle in the war. The hope whose meaning he'd learnt from Azriel, learnt to experience from Azriel.

No, it was absurd. Yes, Azriel was a warrior and yes, he’d killed people. Possibly worse, she didn’t know. But those shadows she knew with certainty weren’t formed from the darkness of nightmares and malevolence and all things wicked.

They were a darkness of safety and security, of nights spent in a loved one’s arms. When a child sought their parent; when an adult sought their partner. They were the darkness found deep underground, where the earth was pure and things grew. Where life grew.

And just like his shadows, he too was not crafted from unholiness. There was unrelenting virtue glowing in him, burning whatever taint touched his darkness. She’d seen it in his eyes when he’d found her at the Hybern camp, when he alone had armed her with his own dagger at that later battle – and then run straight into the thick of it without Truth-Teller.

She didn’t know what she would’ve done if he hadn’t survived while she held his blade.

So when his shadows leaked out again, wrapping him in twining vines and wisps, she said nothing. Simply continued to work in that lovely lavender soap, giving as much care as she could. He deserved it.

She poured jug after jug of warm water over his head, wading her fingers through his locks to wash out the soap. Within a minute or two, the water was running clear. She yawned and dried her hands on a fresh towel.

‘Az, you can lift your head now.’

The guilt relented a little, icy claws releasing. A cold still filled the space left behind. But before the warmth of his presence, his existence, could balm her heart as it often did, she froze. His shadows parted to reveal a tear slipping from his eye. Just a single tear but so abrupt it was jarring on the shadowsinger’s face.

‘Azriel?’

He was unresponsive. His breathing was regular, body relaxed in a state of sleep. Except for that tear. What was he dreaming of?

She raised her hand to his face but let it hover in the air. Would this wake him? Would he even be fine knowing Elain had seen him cry?

She touched the tear anyway, placed a knuckle right beneath it. The tear slipped onto her hand and she wiped off the trace left on his face.

Azriel stirred, voice raw as he said, ‘Mother?’

Mother – was she what, who he dreamt of? There was such a childlike insecurity in his tone that Elain’s heart squeezed. She moved her hand back a little when her own voice sounded wispy. ‘No, it’s Elain.’

His eyes opened, gaze darting around the room. There was a small crease in his brow as he blinked away whatever haze remained from his dreams. The shadows dissipated.

Confusion limned his features in the few seconds it took him to fully awaken. Did he know he cried? That she’d wiped off his tear? No, that wouldn’t be okay. Elain had to distract him, if that were even possible for a spymaster.

Sometimes his title overwhelmed her. Sometimes she found security in it; did he see things he didn’t want to on his travels? Did he have access to a wealth of information he didn’t initially understand, just as Elain didn’t comprehend her visions without further probing?

‘I asked you to lift your head but you’d fallen asleep,’ she said. ‘I didn’t want to wake you, but we should dry your hair before you really go to sleep. Especially if you’ll be going outside again. Although I would ask you to consider taking a guest room.’

That frown deepened for a second before he smoothed out his face. ‘Right.’ He sat straight, and Elain set a hand under his head as he stiffly pulled it up. He rotated his neck a bit, water dripping off his sodden hair, sliding down his face.

She placed the towel over his head, patting it across his scalp. Some strands escaped to hang over his forehead, so she pulled them back, ruffling the towel through his hair. All the while, he watched her, but she busied herself with the water that glistened on his neck. Anything to avoid his eyes.

Then he dropped his head – from tiredness or something else, she didn’t know – so she took the opportunity to dry the back more. Drying his hair took more effort than washing, he just had so much hair. The small towel quickly became damp so she continued with the one round his neck, and a short while later, deemed his hair dry enough. Still wet but not sodden, so she combed her fingers through it, smoothing out the tips that stuck out. She left both towels on her bathtub, touching a knuckle to one of the trailing plants sitting on a stool nearby.

She heard the chair scrape across the floor, Azriel rising, so she laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Wait. I want to clean your face, too.’

The idea of having to look at his face for however long it took to clean sent a thrill through her and she woke a little more. The chain on her heart slipped from her control a little and she leashed it back. Her chest tightened as she grabbed a cloth and ran it under the tap. She knelt next to him, honing in on that giant gash on his cheekbone. She touched the cloth to his face.

He winced and her hand stilled. ‘Sorry.’

A small smile graced his face, and he said, ‘Don’t be.’

She recognised the words from earlier and breathed a laugh. ‘That cut does look very bad, though. I think I’ll have to clean it with alcohol too.’

‘Let’s crack open that wine then.’

Something sultry laced his voice, the chain in her chest slipping again. The metal warmed and Elain fiddled with her grip. She let out a shaky laugh. ‘Not tonight, Azriel.’

Goodness. A late night wine session with Azriel. There was heat in her cheeks and she didn’t know how to tone it down. It was even worse with his face so near hers. He’d see it all. Her face warmed further, and it was only the dirt and blood on his that reminded her he was in no position to be drinking the night away. Not with fatigue so clear on his features and in his posture.

And not with Elain. That toed a line she didn't deserve to cross.

So she gave focus only to his skin, wiping the cloth across his face. Once most of the mud and blood was off, she rinsed the cloth, then wiped him down again. He turned his head and as his eyes fixed squarely on her, the chain heated further. She tried to grip it elsewhere, but every link was as hot. It wasn’t uncomfortable – quite pleasant, actually – but she was sure it would be soon enough if she didn’t move now. The cool air sweeping into the bathroom did nothing to help. If he would just stop looking into her –

Elain abruptly stood and on a whim went to close the window. Maybe he'd think she was cold, though she'd regret trapping the air when it was stifling here soon.

She moved to the cupboard by the door, her back to him. She took a deep breath, taking her time to pull out a bottle of alcohol, in pouring a few drops of it onto a clean cloth. The distance between them was refreshing. The chain didn’t cool, not with Azriel still so close in the same room, but at least it didn’t warm any more. Elain took a moment to readjust her grasp and pull it again.

She composed herself and knelt beside him. The alcohol’s scent permeated the air and her own nerves bristled. ‘This’ll hurt.’

His smile was slight. ‘It’s all right.’

She bit the inside of her cheek and touched the cloth to the wound. His jaw clamped like a vice and she lightened her touch, the cloth barely kissing his skin.

This wasn’t the right way. She needed to clean that wound, regardless of what pain it’d inflict. It'd be temporary, the sting. So she pressed the cloth harder, dabbing it across his cheekbone.

His features were stonelike at the contact. Did pain ever become easier to bear? Would the prick of a thorn be less painful in a decade than it was now?

If Azriel’s face was anything to go by, she guessed no. Perhaps some pain couldn’t be learnt; perhaps the body never fully digested pain.

Perhaps she'd never fully recover from the desolation in the Cauldron.

‘Are you all right, Azriel?’ Her voice was so quiet, like she didn’t want to flare the hurt any further.

‘I’m all right. Are you all right, Elain?’

‘I’m fine.’

He wasn’t all right and nor was she, but neither was willing to broach that right now. There was so much to him she didn’t yet know. What was it that shadowed his eyes so often? What darkness clouded his mind before he fell asleep? In due time, she’d learn, but that human impatience, the sense that there was never enough time, threatened to run her tongue.

Time stretched out before her. She’d learn. He was her friend, she just needed to give him time to teach her the workings of his soul. And in return, she would bare hers too.

Neither said a word as she pressed the alcohol into every wound, cleaning his cheekbone and temple, a scratch across his jaw. She stared at the graze there for a few seconds. She’d ask Madja for some calendula oil later; that would speed the healing process.

She sighed as she washed the cloth. Something had loosened the chain, but it wasn’t a sudden unravelling. It’d just been gradual and she hadn’t noticed, one link falling back at a time. Her heart expanded. There was torment in Azriel’s posture, on his face, and it hurt. It hurt that Elain couldn’t do anything for him besides give basic medicines for his body.

But he was more than just a physical form. He had a heart and a soul, both so tight with whatever misery lurked in his past, and she couldn’t do anything about that. For all the light she saw in the world, all the places of brightness, there was ten times as much darkness, ten times as many nooks and crannies where gloom and wretchedness dwelt. What good was the light if it didn’t burn away the shade over everyone’s souls?

She spent more time washing the cloth than necessary.

The chair creaked. ‘You can talk to me, Elain, whenever you need.’

The chain slipped again, Elain’s fingers grappling for those final links. It hurt so much that he was willing to give so much. Her smile was too bright as she turned and said, ‘I know.’

He stood. His gaze was so direct on her that she only held one chainlink now. Just one link remained in her hand, one link between her and the release of a beast she hadn't yet had the courage to face.

The link heated. Her muscles loosened and her hands fumbled with the tap, the cloth falling from limp fingers.

He would realise. He would know what she was thinking and feeling if she didn’t get a grip on herself, on that final chainlink. So she turned her body to face his and cleared her throat. ‘We should go downstairs to the fireplace. It’ll be warmer there.’ For his damp hair, of course.

No matter that whatever cool air remained in the room did nothing to tame her heat.

His hand was cold on her wrist, a shiver tracking her bones, and colder still were the shadows that swept them up and into the living room. Good, there was much more space here. Her feet hit the floor and she bent to place three logs in the hearth.

Moonlight glinted on the steel she struck against the flint but the metal didn’t spark the way she’d seen it do when everybody else lit a fire. She tried again, Azriel silent beside her. This was pitiful. She swiped the steel a couple more times, and a spark finally appeared.

It was too silent here. ‘Those shadows are quite convenient at times, aren’t they?’ she said.

He breathed a laugh. ‘They can be.’

She let the spark catch on the cloth resting on the hearth and threw it onto the logs, a blaze finally blooming. She doubted anybody else took that long to start a fire. Heat bathed her legs.

Elain didn’t know what to make of the lack of judgement she found on his face when she stood. Though, it was common with him, how honestly he looked at her. She shouldn’t be surprised. Save Nuala and Cerridwen, he was perhaps the only one who didn’t view her as a naive fool, a child. None of the others said it, but she saw it in their eyes, that patronising glimmer.

He was leaning against the mantelpiece with a forearm, one leg crossed over the other, the portrait of casual elegance. It wasn't often she got to see him looking so relaxed. Then again, he was tired.

Her eyes met his. ‘Just a few minutes now and we’ll be warm.’

His eyes were soft; he didn’t say anything. Just kept looking at her. Into her.

The air warmed. That was a quick few minutes.

Just the flames. Of course it was the flames. Anything else would be ridiculous.

The wound on his cheekbone was an angry red in the dim light. ‘I think you’ll need a bandage for that wound.’ Some herbs would be prudent too.

‘I’ll be fine without it,’ he said.

She pleaded for interference from something, anything. ‘It’s quite deep.’

‘Not a match for my Illyrian healing.’ The smirk that followed sent a hot spark down her skin. The chain now burned and she lost her grip on it completely, that leash uncoiling and slipping down, down, down into the abyss of her core. Her heart swelled like a dragon inhaling a mighty breath.

She needed a distraction from his achingly stunning face. The wings behind him were not a reprieve at all. Especially not after what she'd overheard about them. Certain people tended to forget she was in the room and had heightened hearing when they talked about the sensitivities of the Illyrian wings.

Her face heated and her heart throbbed against her chest. How improper these thoughts were. The air was stifling now. Perhaps they should've stayed in the bathroom. Even the weak chill of night air would be better than this. She wished she could have shadows to cool her down like Azriel did. Or to hide in. She'd seen him do that plenty of times.

His wings rustled and he straightened, coming off the mantelpiece. His eyes were glazed, somehow even more stunning than they were outside earlier. The fire highlighted the grey brown storm swirling in his gaze while streaks of emerald glistened like the veins on leaves in the height of summer.

It felt like the height of summer too in this heat.

He frowned. She cleared her throat of the pocket of air lodged there.

'Oh.' A bead of sweat glinted on his temple, right above the gash there. The sting that would ensue was an unnecessary pain, so she reached up to wipe it away.

As her finger touched his skin, above the crackle of the flames, a loud thudding beat entered her ears. Azriel caught her wrist and a small gasp left her lips.

His eyes smouldered, that thunderstorm churning in the dim light. His heartbeat. It was his heartbeat she heard. It ran and ran, crescendoeing like a drum before the climax of a song.

Was the shadowsinger feeling the same as she? Did his heart yearn to touch hers too?

It was unbearable, the alternative. Unbearable but probable.

Her voice was thick, with longing, with desire, with anguish all entangled when she spoke, 'I can hear your heartbeat.'

He said nothing. If he truly didn't reciprocate -

She almost couldn't continue but pushed out, 'And it's a beautiful sound.'

That song in his heartbeat finally climaxed, a thunder of sound pounding the air.

'You're beautiful, too,' he breathed.

Her own pulse throbbed, heartbeat echoing in her throat. Tears blurred her vision of him. She blinked them away; she wanted to truly see every inch of his wonderful face.

His breathing lightened.

As did hers.

He was a mirror, Azriel. He saw her; he saw what she hid from everyone else, clear as day. It was his eyes that told. His words, too, in that smooth voice, free of condescension.

And now no mouth had ever looked so inviting.

And maybe this was okay. This fondness, this attachment she'd developed for him. It wasn't a sudden spark - childish and unquestioned. This had been building for a while now. Months. Maybe even since the first year she'd met him. And maybe it was improper and she was a lady, but perhaps it went beyond expectation. If her sisters could give themselves wholly to their love, then so could she.

Love. It was exhilarating, liberating to open up that well inside her. To no longer have that chain leashing her heart.

And because she knew he'd not make another move, she whispered, 'Are you going to kiss me?'

The fire hissed as a log tumbled further into the hearth. Shadows smoked behind his eyes. 'Only if you want me to.'

Without a doubt, she wanted this. There was a certainty, a clarity in her bones that sang high and free. It whistled through her marrow and glided into her blood, awakening her soul. She was not a child. She could want this. She could have this.

'Yes.'

A frown marred his face and her heart dropped. His eyes were now a hurricane, darkened like night descended over them. Torment was etched in the line of his brows, in the flicker of his jaw as it ground together.

He was afraid. Of hurting her. Ruining her. She'd seen the way he always glimpsed his hands, glancing away with revulsion in his eyes. He thought he was a disgrace, a savage.

But how could that be? How could this male, this male of honour, loyalty and charm think so little of himself? He was better than any male she could've had the pleasure of knowing.

'I know what you're thinking,' she said, 'and I want you to know I trust you, Azriel. You will do me no harm. You couldn't.'

His eyes shuttered as he lowered them, brows still furrowed. He still held her wrist, so, pulling his arm with her, she reached out and stroked his brow with her thumb. She rubbed back and forth in gentle motions until that crease was gone, and he exhaled slowly.

'I trust you, Azriel. So kiss me.'

The moody veil of night lifted from his eyes, the tempest calming to a glistening haze. His heart still pounded, so wondrously loud as he leaned down, his free hand settling against her cheek. He was unhurried, tentative.

It was agonising. Worse still, he paused with an inch of space between their lips. His night-chilled air and cedar scent blended with the smoke and wood of the fire, seductive as it crept into her skin and twined around her bones like ribbons of mist round pillars.

With shadows flickering over his face, and the light so sultry beside them, his eyes were alluring. She'd never let herself notice that before. 'Kiss me,' she said faintly.

Elain didn't breathe as his lips touched hers.

__

Feedback's welcomed, thanks for reading 😊

@illyrian-lover-flower @julesherondalex @nooriee @mis-lil-red @verifiefangirl @tswaney17 @a-happybird @thewayshedreamed @sleeping-and-books @thefangirlofhp @januarystears @courtofjurdan @ladylochan

#elain archeron #Azriel #elriel #elain x azriel #acotar #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses

[ask-voreganronpa-boys]

"Ryota…cmon it's 4am…you need to sleep already…" you groan tiredly as you wipe your eyes. You had been up with your partner since yesterday and he hadn't taken a break yet. And without help from the imposter to lay him down, you were left alone to try and coax him to sleep, though haven't been successful in the slightest. He was just too focused on his work. You understood that he was determined to finish and strongly connected to his ongoing project, but staying up multiple nights in a row was just…insane. Especially since he hadn't eaten anything in a while either. Needless to say, you were worried

"B-but I have to get this done, Y/N…I can't just stop now! N-not when I'm this close!" The brunette retorts quickly, eyes still steadily focused on the screen in front of him, hand still quickly moving like the wind. It seemed nothing was going to distract him…

You sigh and look at the phone on the far side of the desk. The imposter had given you two their number before they left for a few days. They said to text them if Ryota or you were in trouble. You figured tonight would be one of those nights. You grunt and get up, ducking under Ryota's arm, and got to the other side of the desk. You unlock the phone with ease and clicked over to the messages. It didn't take you long to send a text to the imposter and didn't take much longer for a text back saying they were on the way. You sigh and look back at your partner. You crawl back over, maybe you could get his attention this way? You crawl onto his tablet and grab his wrist, "Ryota please go lay down!" You plead to him

"Wh-wha!? Y/N get off my tablet!!" He squeaks out in surprise, grabbing you from the back of your shirt and lifted you off his tablet, and set you down on the table, "I-I told you I can't sleep! I'm sorry Y/N but I can't take a break—" his worried rant was cut short by a soft groan coming from the boys' skinny abdomen, causing him to hug his gut in pain

"Mitarai!" You call to him in fear. You grit your teeth, "You have to eat something! Please! You haven't eaten in days!" You plead and run back over to him, "I'm worried about you!!" You frown, "e-eat…eat me if you have to…" you look down. You were willing to do anything for him…even if it meant something like this…

"Mmn…wh-WHAT!? WHY WOULD YOU—" he was cut off by another sharp pain in his gut. He would whimper sadly. He lays his head on the desk and turned his head to look at you, "mmn…I…I can't d-do that…you'll get h-hurt…" he was almost close to tears. Everything was now building up and now that you asked him of such a thing…

"Dear…you're not going to hurt me…I trust you…I just want to help you…" you frown and lay your hands on his nose, "my darling, just trust me…please…" you plead to him and kiss his nose. You reach up to wipe his tears away, "I'll be fine…you need to eat…" you sigh shakily

He sniffs sadly but takes your words into consideration. After a while, he nods. "O-o-okay…I-I trust you…" he sniffs and sits up. He shakily reached down to pick you up, holding you in shakey, cupped hands. "P-please…please be safe…" he frowns and nuzzled your belly with his nose, causing you to softly giggle in return. He sighs nervously and sits completely up, "s-so…do I just…put you in my mouth?" He asks with a soft gulp

You take a deep breath and nod, holding your hands in your lap. You had to admit, you were nervous. Even though you were the one to suggest this, you were nervous. You gulp and look up into his pale gold eyes, "y-yeah…just like i-if you were eating something just…minus the chewing part!" You laugh nervously.

"A-as long as you're sure…" he'd take a deep breath, the warm air washing over you, soon you would be enveloped by it. He gulps and sticks his tongue out, deciding to taste test you first. He honestly had no clue of what to do. His tongue slipped out of his lips and slowly slid across your form. A chill went down his spine at the taste. "w-woah! y-you...you taste so sweet!" he was shocked honestly.

You couldn't help but squeak and shutter at the deep lick. It was…just a strange feeling…the feeling of being treated as a mere piece of food…you had to admit…it felt wonderful. "D-did I really?" You ask slowly, wiping the spit away from your eyes. You could feel your cheeks flush as you looked up at him, he sharing the same complexion. "I-I uh…I guess i-it's time h-huh?" You nervously smile up at him

"Y-yeah! I-I guess! I just hope you'll be okay with this…" he sighs shakily. "Well, alright then…bottoms up?" He laughs nervously before bringing you above his head and allowed you to slide carefully into his awaiting maw. His mouth already salivated just by the mere taste of you. His mouth shut behind you once you slid in entirely. "Mmmn!!" He let's out a shocked noise of delight. "Mmf! Oh man! So s-sweet!" He said around you, though quite muffled.

"W-woah!" You squeak as you slide into the artists mouth. It was unusually comforting in there. The tongue below you was nice and soft, and it was like a hug from all angles. You giggle at his little awes, but as much as yoh would like to take time to register this moment, the world around you shifted backwards. You slid to the back of his throat and was gulped down like some piece of candy. It wasn't all that bad though…in fact, it was amazing! Or at least that's what you thought of it that is. Being pushed down and down, further into your lover, hearing his booming heartbeat, and slowly traversing into a pale green section…it was pure bliss! There's no way a lover could get any closer to their partner! Soon enough you fell into a small chamber. It was small but you assumed it would be bigger…seeing as it was Mitarai's stomach. But you guessed it made sense, seeing as he hadn't eaten much of anything lately.

He burps softly into his hand and released another sound of awe. You felt the walls indent around you, that being him rubbing his stomach. "A-are you okay in there?" You could hear his voice ask nervously.

"Y-yes dear I'm fine!" You kinda giggle back. Sitting up, you push back on the indents where his fingers were. This was truly fascinating. You yawn, "dear? Please…get some sleep soon, yeah? That's what I'm about to do." You say, with full certainty that the imposter would be here soon to put Mitarai to bed. You lay down. You trusted him enough to sleep in such a usually dangerous organ. Soon enough, you close your eyes and start to rest. "Mmn…goodnight my dear…I love you…" you yawn

"O-oh! I-I'll try to! Sleep well o-okay!" He quickly says before noticing your drowsiness. He was baffled at how you could possibly fall asleep in such a place. "I…I love you too…" a small smile pulled on his lips as he said this.

"Goodnight"

#v.ore #vorganronpa #danganronpa: goodbye despair #ryota mitarai

[hirokari]

↠ plaster

pairing: jungmo x reader

tags: high school!au, play!au, clumsy!Reader, fluff

warnings: minor explicit language

— “um... does anyone know where i can find a plaster?” 

a/n:  ha! its a miracle! she’s updated with an imagine! :P n e ways i think my plan is too update with an imagine once every 1-2 months...? my writer’s block is horrible :’(

Senior year.

The year everyone had been dreading, just one more step until they're out of this hell hole. And yet, what seems like the most relieving thing in the world, it takes one play, one role to mess it up for him.

His brown irises skim through the pinned papers on the school's pinboard, hoping for his name to turn out in the 'extras' parts. But the more he scans fir his name, the more his stomach drops.

Until he'd found his name.

Jungmo groans, the tips of his eyes dropping in sync with his grimacing lips. His fist hits the wall hard, startling one of his classmates.

"Hey, what's up man... oh, you got the role lead! Bro, that's awesome!"

It doesn't help the fact that everyone's congratulating him for something he clearly didn't intentionally aim for. He'd actually slacked his audition, but maybe that's what got him the spoiled prince's role.

"A-Ah, please, it's... not that great." He stammers, rather out of frustration more than humbleness. He rubs the back of his neck in s repeated, eager matter, the endless praises ticking him off even more.

~

"Aw, come on, Mogu! Embrace the prince in you!" Minhee emphasizes into his mic, followed by a fit of immature cackling from himself and Woobin. Jungmo clicks his tongue of annoyance, "This senior play can suck my a-"

"Cheer up, Jungmo. You're the center of attention-"

"That's just it! Sure, I'd like the fame and stuff, but for a stupid prince role? Come on, dude. No thanks."

Jungmo sighs out of exasperation, slouching further into his seat. He mutters a curse followed by the younger's name, cracking a smirk when Minhee doesn't bother to hide his whimper mixed with the sound of him shuffling against his bed sheets.

"Right, my guys, I'm heading out. I'm tired from all this fame," He concludes with a yawn, stretching his arms in front of himself, nodding in content when he hears his bone sockets pop (or crack, if you say it like that).

"Alright, g'night, princey." Minhee snickers. Woobin chuckles, "Yeah, lights out for you, your highness."

Jungmo mumbles a few sleepy slurs under his breath, clearing his throat as he disconnects from the FaceTime. He's so frustrated that he'd clicked a button one too many times, and his phone lags aren't helping.

Tomorrow's rehearsals are going to be hell.

~

"Is this okay?" A girl— who Jungmo had just realized was looking at him suggestively— mumbles lowly, her voice probably raspy on purpose as she measures his waist down with a measuring tape. She licks her lips and nibbles on the bottom one, but it really looks like she's trying to find the stuck piece of broccoli between her teeth with her tongue.

He gulps thickly, finding the situation not to his liking. "...it's not okay?" He answers rather in a questioning tone. She laughs, obviously not taking his answer seriously and resting her hand to his chest, "You're really funny."

He's had enough. He's uncomfortable, and really, really hot in this stuffy room with other people in the play who wouldn't care about his sticky situation. He's close to slapping this girl. That is, until the door opens slowly.

Jungmo's attention strays from the attempting girl to whoever had just come in, realizing that from the door was the only natural light that illuminates in the room. He ceiling lights make him sleepy, maybe because of how boring and dull it was.

Seeing the first ray on sunlight since a while caused him to squint when it shone directly at his eyes, the air now smelling grassy from the field directly outside the dusty storage room the students had (for some reason) voted to measure for costumes in.

"Um... does anyone know where I can find a plaster?" You ask softly, but loud enough to catch everyone's attention. It's quiet for a brief moment, and you panic internally, as if you'd just interrupted a starved wolf's meal.

But one of your classmates wave over for you, to which you scurry over to with a relieved sigh.

Jungmo's eyes couldn't leave your figure. He admired the nice taste in clothes you've spent all morning picking out, and your messy hair tied into a lazy style. He watched you wrap on the plaster around your finger, your tongue sticking out a little out of habit.

He doesn't know why, he really doesn't, but it makes him smile, seeing you struggle with the sticky side of the plaster.

"Hey," Jungmo finally says to the previous suggestive girl, and he fights down the urge to just cringe when she bats her lashes at him while purring out a response. He gestures his head towards your direction, "do you know who that is?"

"Oh, the clutz kid? Don't even bother-- she's lame, and always clumsy with herself." The girl rolls her eyes, twirling the ends of her hair. "She's came in for another plaster— She's clearly only pricking herself for some attention while making the play fits."

She makes the play's outfits? By hand?

Jungmo's impressed, and intrigued. He won't let this chance slip.

~

  "Craaap," You hiss out, leaning your head back against the wall. It's the fifth time you've hurt yourself with the same needle. Yui snickers, "Should I get you another coke?"

"What? Why coke?" "...well, I'm getting coke, you want some?" "...yes please. I'll go look for some plasters... again."

She nods with a playful hum, dashing off to the vending machine all the way across the building. Sucking on the sweet, metallic tasting fluid from your finger, you slowly stand up, mentally preparing yourself for another trip for plasters.

That is-- until a sudden voice calls out a 'hey,'.

Turning around, your brows ride up in surprise when you see a tall boy clad in a black hoodie leaning on the wall you had been sitting against.

"Yeah?" You answer quietly, retracting your finger from your lips. The boy reaches up to scratch the back of his head with one hand as the other rummages into his hoodie's pouch.

"Well, uh, I noticed you were looking for some plasters a while ago, and um... figured you were clumsy. So I got you a pack," He reaches out, and you see a box of plasters.

Your chest tightens at his thoughtful actions. Stranger or not, he sure knew how to swoon people-- or at least, you.

"O-Oh! So it's obvious I'm pretty messy, huh?" You jest, accepting the box from his hand. He shrugs, "Eh, who isn't? Messy is good sometimes, right?"

"Right," You repeat, tearing the box open slowly. You spot more crimson seeping from your skin, which causes you to grab a plaster in a hurried matter.

Now, five minutes later, here you are back on the floor next to the kind boy who had bought you the pack of plasters.

"Thank you, by the way." You turn to him, a smile gracing your lips. The side of his lips quirks up, "Don't mention it, uh... I didn't catch your name."

"Y/N."

You extend a palm, and he grins at the amount of plasters it's covered in.

"Jungmo."

He envelopes your hand in his bigger one, a firm shake being the first step to a great connection.

#koo jungmo #cravity #cravity imagines #kang minhee #seo woobin #cravity x reader #jungmo imagines #park serim #allen ma #song hyeongjun #kim taeyoung #ahn seongmin #ham wonjin #produce x 101 #x1

[katsukikitten]

A/N DAY TWO!!! Please enjoy the dramatics requested by @alwayslost123

"I'm...I have..." Words are lost to you as you attempt to break the terrible news to your best friend. Scarlet eyes rest on you patiently while rage lies just beneath the surface. Ready to tear apart whomever is making your vision blur.

Your hear aches as realization washes over you, that you'll never be able to call him your own. You damn yourself for being too fucking scared to ever admit to him that you liked him.

Hell at this point loved him. He helped you all through UA and even now he helps you with your training although you had given up hero work.

Your mind tortures you with flashes of the two of you laughing, of him pinning you to the ground something different flashing in his eyes as he leans closer but suddenly changes his mind.

Maybe you were never meant to call him yours.

Tears fall from your cheeks in fat droplets as you try but fail to wipe them away.

"I...I'm sorry Bakugou. I..." Sturdy arms wrap around tightly as you sob into his chest. Breathing in that intoxicating caramel smell that normally soothes you but today it is bitter sweet.

Today could be the last time that you smell it. You push him away, swallowing down the lump in your throat and furiously wiping at your tears. You force your voice to come out even as you steel yourself for his reaction.

"I'm getting married to Todoroki in a few months." You watch him turn rigid as he let's the information sink in. He grits his teeth until it hurts as he stares at you. When he doesn't speak you go on, "It's been arranged."

"But you don't even love him!" He explodes, fingers popping even as they grip against the concrete of the roof top to the brownstone townhouse you bought.

"I...." You swallow again, "We are compatible for making strong grade quirks."

You let your hand catch aflame as crimson eyes watch blue and red fire lick at your fingers. Flame that has guided him through dark times, flame that had fed his fuel to want something more.

Something he will not allow himself to have.

He grits his teeth again, pearly whites threatening to break before he sucks his teeth.

"So you're going to do nothing?" Silence stretches between the two of you as the stars wink overhead, the moon yawning in the black sky.

"It will make Father happy." Bakugou sucks his teeth to your response before glares at you.

"Then don't come crying to me." He stands, jumping from the third story.

"Bakugou! Wait!" Your vision blurs once more as you watch his strong back walk into the night, his ash blonde head never looking back.

Days of silence pass between the two of you causing severe chest pains on your side. You half wonder if he ever really cared for you or if what you saw in his eyes was your own desperate attempt to feel something.

To feel loved.

Placing your phone screen down you sigh deeply. Watching your microwaved meal for one spin endlessly before your phone chimes. Excitement grips your heart as you reach for your phone. Praying to Kamisama for it to be a message from Katsuki. Instead your heart shatters in your chest when you read a message from your father.

*"You're moving in with Todoroki tomorrow. A crew will be by to pack your stuff up and transport it. Your house will be on the market shortly."*

You scream sending your phone through the drywall of your bedroom as it soars through another wall before cracking into glittering shards agaisnt the exposed brick in the living room.

Bluish red flame engulfs you and your bed, eating away at everything around you as nothing bring you joy anymore.

Your white bed spread quickly becomes blackened as it is swallowed whole and spit out in ash, flames moving into its next food source licking up the walls. Bubbling paint, distorting photos of your graduating class. Of a candid shot of you and Bakugou arm and arm laughing after training.

Before long the whole building is enveloped in the hot kiss of your quirk, as the bed frame finally buckles from your weight and succumbs to ash.

Even your clothes specially designed around your dangerous quirk begin to catch from the heat alone but still you do not move. Like an ember fueling the fire you sit still mourning over the fact that you cannot burn by your own flame.

Ice soars in large waves into your home or what's left of it as two toned eyes search endlessly. Sending more ice in attempt to cool the flame only to be melted and evaporated. More ice is plunged towards the fire until it is contained, flame frozen in time as an iceberg decorates where your couch once was. Frantic eyes find you shortly before emotion twists his handsome face.

It looks as if his heart is breaking in two. Funny you didn't think his heart was anything but frozen solid.

Still he approaches, sitting among the ash across from you as he brushes away some of your hair.

"I know this is hard....." He sighs out, words failing him as they always do, "But I will never force myself upon you. I will always be faithful to you and should you wish we could never have children. But please...."

He swallows down some more smoke before sending ice to surround you two. Beads of sweat collect on half of his body as the ice drips pure water onto your soot covered and deeply charred hardwoods.

"Lets get through this together." He offers you his hand then and in that moment as you watch his hair dampen sticking to his forehead you wonder.

Would it be so hard to love him?

Todoroki has always been kind to you, helpful and even now knows the right thing to say.

*"So you're going to do nothing?"*

Harsh words echo in your head again encouraging you to reach for what is now your future.

But what Bakugou doesn't understand is that there is no defying your father.

Days turn into weeks and living with Todoroki isn't so unpleasant. He cooks you meals, holds the door open for you. He helps you with your studies and even draws the bath for you first. He picked out a stunning ring that fits your personality of hellish fire. A diamond that blinded you when he opened the block box asking sheepishly if you would marry him.

As if you had a choice.

But he did try to make you feel as if it was.

Things could still go right between you too considering the wedding was now only two days away. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have children with him, he was attentive to your needs. He would surely be even more so for his offspring right?

His hero work would have him gone often but you did prefer your alone time. Like tonight you're curled up on the couch reading as the late morning yawns into early afternoon.

A harsh knock comes at your door as you sigh. Damning your father for telling the wedding coordinator where you two lived. She had been bothering you nonstop about nonsensical items, like the color of your silverware as if you cared that fucking much about this.

If you had it your way you would have just eloped!

Actually if you had it your way there would be no wedding at all. But you can never have it your way as long as that man lives.

"Priscilla please I don't care what color it is just pi..." You shout as you yank open the thick wooden door, you quickly notice a man dressed in black standing on your stoop "Bakugou?!"

"Run away with me." He says grabbing onto your wrist. Ready to yank you out of that house with only the clothes on your back. If you came with him he'd buy you whatever the fuck you wanted, "I've got a job lined up in America. The plane leaves tonight."

"Katsuki...The wedding is two days away! My father wants..." You start but he turns on you, vein popping in his head as his age old temper begins to show, fingers gripping onto your biceps tightly.

"I don't give a fuck what your father wants or what Todoroki wants!" He shouts, "What do you want?!"

When you don't answer his voice softens with his grip, palms sliding down to your elbows.

"What do *you* want?" He asks exasperated, your vision swims as it all sinks in.

Was he fucking serious? Running away with him after he hadn't spoken a word to you in almost three months.

After he stomped on your already broken heart, now he wanted to do something? Wanted to try to fix it?

Tears well in your eyes as you look between two burning scarlet orbs.

"Katsuki...I can't do this." You rip from his grip and slink back into your new house slamming the door on your happiness forever.

💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💎💎💎💎💎💍💍💍💍

Delicate hands place a veil into your hair, turning you into something you're not entirely ready for.

"You're a gorgeous bride." Your mother sighs as she places her hands onto your donned in white shoulders. You blink furiously to keep your eyes from over flowing.

"Your Father and I had an arranged marriage. Look how we turned out." She smiles at your reflection as you fight to keep from full on sobbing.

Yes look how the two of you turned out, hardly speaking to one another even as they raised you.

Despite all of that there was hope for you and Todoroki, eventually you could have been happy until an angry ash blonde showed up and for what?

Priscilla burts through the doors to the little bride suite.

"Show time!!!" She sings ushering yourself and your mother through the door.

Your palms become clammy as your heart accelerates, spying Todoroki through your veil. You walk to the beat of the music as you march down the aisle, past hundreds of people. Cameras flash capturing your long train and tight boddess. Somehow you make it to the altar only to realize that Shota looks more handsome up close, blushing slightly as you do. Stunned into silence by your beauty alone.

"We are gathered here today...." The officiant starts and you loose track as you stare into heterochromatic eyes.

"If anyone objects speak now or forever hold your piece." Silence falls over the room as the officiant waits.

As if anyone would ever dare to get in the way of your Father's plans.

Suddenly a boom rings out over head, screaming erupts as something fall from the ceiling.

Your heart stops in your chest as you watch the dust clear, leaving a silhouette of a popping hot man.

He points to the officiant, explosions the only sound echoing in the marbled hall.

"NO. I OBJECT WHATEVER THE FUCK I HAVE TO SAY. HE DOESN'T LOVE HER!" His explosions stop before he points to himself, " I DO! AND SHE DOESN'T LOVE HIM!!"

A collective gasp falls over the guests as your cheeks burn, silently thankful that he was here.

That he came back.

His breath comes out in ragged and wrath filled as he shouts.

"SHE LOVES ME!"

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou katsuki #todoroki x reader #bnha todoroki #bnha drama #bnha kacchan #bnha fic #bnha au #kitten valnetines day event! #bnha valentine #valentine #valnetines day event #valentine's day #katsuki bakugo #bnha katsuki #katsuki x reader #mha bakugou #bnha fluff #katsuki bakugou #bakugo katsuki x reader

[noire-pandora]

I’ve joined another writing event but this time on Twitter and this is my take on the first prompt “Campfire”, where Elluin and Varric have a heart-to-heart conversation about the burden of responsibility.  Also on my AO3.

Words: 2002

Warnings: none. 

A shiver rippled over Varric's skin at the sudden gust of cold wind, the dying small campfire failing to keep him warm. He sighed, wondering why he agreed to stay with the Inquisition, the long trips through woods, mountains and plains exhausting him. In moments like this, when the lack of comfort affected his morale, he wished he was back in Kirkwall with Hawke and her friends, enjoying a cold beer at the tavern and making up stories. Instead, he stood on a wood log, his butt still hurting from the long hours of riding, his stiff back begging him for a hot bath and a massage. His clothes weren't fit for the long days of travel, his cotton shirts and pants doing little to protect him against the capricious weather.

He huffed, shoving a stick in the fire, hoping it would bring it back to life, but he only succeeded in putting it off. "Great," he mumbled, crossing his arms before his chest, his warm breath fogging in the air. "I'll freeze until someone wakes up. Why is it so damn cold?"

He raised his eyes to watch the sky in an attempt to forget about the situation he found himself in, only to be greeted by the sight of the Breach, swirling and twisting above them like a silent threat, ready to swallow the whole world. Instead of making him feel better, the hair on the nape of his neck rose, and his muscles spasmed as if readying him to flee from a dangerous enemy before it got the change to attack him.

His lips slightly parted, his fingernails digging into the log as fear slowly crawled into his mind. How were they supposed to close it when none of them had any idea how it happened? When the only one who barely understood it was a suspicious elf who came out of nowhere, offering his help? The fate of the world stood on the shoulders of a few heretics who got dragged into this mess, with little to no support from the ones who should have dealt with it. His breath hitched in his throat at those thoughts, anxiety hovering above him.

The noise of the tent's flap opening startled him, and he almost jumped in place. He swiftly turned in the direction of the sound, curious to see who woke up this early in the morning.

The Herald left the tent yawning and scratching her wild curly hair. He frowned, noticing the unusual dark circles surrounding her eyes and the tiredness written on her face. Exhaustion shrouded her, and it slowly turned her from the laid back, always ready to joke elf to a snappy person, ready to fight at the slightest misunderstanding. This sudden change worried him, for it wasn't the first time he saw this transformation.

"Morning, Sparks," he greeted her with a broad smile on his face.  

She acknowledged his comment with a tilt of her head and continued her morning routine, stretching her arms and legs until her joints stopped popping. After a few more minutes of light exercises, she finally joined him, creasing her nose at the cold, half-burned wood. With a swift flick of her hand, the fire took shape again, dancing lively and consuming the wood in a few seconds.

"You don't need wood to keep it burning?" he asked, leaning forwards and outstretching his arms to warm his palms over the fire.

"No," she shrugged, flicking her wrist again, the fire blazing even brighter. She sat on a log next to him to warm herself. "I don't need any wood to sustain it. As long as I have mana, it will burn."

He hummed, cocking his eyebrow at her explanation. Magical explanations always confused him and brought even more questions to his mind.  In the end, it only mattered that the fire slowly warmed him, and the mage casting the spell was on his side.

"You're up early," he spoke as casually as he could after a few minutes of sitting in total silence.

She shrugged, wiggling her fingers, the campfire slithering in the rhythm of her hand movements. "Yeah. It happens."

"Been happening to you often. Are you getting enough sleep?"

She eyed him, pursing her lips into a thin line. "Are you monitoring my health? I thought Solas was supposed to do that."

He shuffled his legs uneasy, sensing the hint of annoyance in her voice. "Chuckles isn't the only one who's worried for you."

"Worried for me? Why?"

"You've been acting strange lately, randomly snapping at us. Just wondering if you're alright."

Her nostrils flared, and the fire suddenly sizzled, its flames growing bigger. He quickly pulled his arms back, raising an eyebrow at her. "See! This is what I mean."

"I'm sorry!" she apologised, squeezing her fingers into a fist and hiding them in the pockets of her trousers. "Are you all right?"

He waved his hand in dismissal, shaking his head at her. "It's fine. You didn't hurt me. But something's going on with you."

She ran one hand through her curls, a finger getting stuck into a hair knot. She yanked on it, her jaw tensing. With another yank, she released her finger only to clasp her hands in her lap. When she spoke again, he could hear the tension in her voice. "I haven't got enough sleep lately. "

"Nightmares?"

She nodded. "Yes. How did you know?"

He gave her a small, sad smile, stretching his hands again as the flames shrunk to a safe level. He stared at it, his eyes glassy with the memories of the past. "I've seen this look before, Sparks. You're not the only one hunted by nightmares. How bad is it?"

She stared into the fire, her eyebrows furrowed into a deep crease. "Bad. I've had them for almost two weeks. I barely get enough sleep to function at day."

He contemplated her face, noticing how the bags under her eyes turned purple, the whites of her eyes bloodshot and how her usually rose cheeks caught a sickly pallor, a few spider veins showing through the paleness of her cheek.

"I think Chuckles can help you with this since he's the expert in the Fade and the stuff you mages dream at night."

She snorted, glancing at him. "And how do you know that?"

"I've heard a few of your conversations. Can't he do a spell to drive your nightmare away?"

She bit on her lower lip. "I think so, yes. But I'm not going to ask for his help."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Look, I know you two have your differences, but you're not looking that good, Sparks. And he can help you. He won't say no to you."

A few months ago, this suggestion would have gained him a huff from the Herald, but now she nodded solemnly, without commenting on how annoying Solas was. He found it amusing how quickly they became friends, and he had a hunch this friendship might slowly turn into something else.

"We've solved our differences, Varric," she confirmed, staring down at her feet, deep in thought. "I  know he'd help me. I just don't want to burden him with my problems."

He admired Lavellan's stubbornness and eagerness to stick to her moral ideas, but, at this moment, he had to suppress his need to roll his eyes at her comment.

"You won't burden him. It's his duty to take care of you. You hold the key to the safety of this world in your hand. You have to stay healthy, or else we're doomed."

She straightened her back, a frown pulling at the corners of her mouth. "So my health matters only because I'm bearing the Mark. Is that what you're trying to say?"

He sighed deeply and scowled at her knowing very well she tried to change the subject by bringing this up. "No. But your health is affected by this Mark, and we're here to help you."

"Well, I don't need your help," she barked, the fire blazing strongly again but, this time, her outburst did not impress him.

He spread his arms wide, drawing in a long breath, readying himself for the confrontation. "Look, Sparks. I get it. You don't like to talk about your feelings. You've been dealing with stuff alone since you left your Clan. But those things were simple, compared with what you have to do now. You're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. You need someone to talk with."

"No. I don't," she fumed, rubbing her temples, her skin turning red under her fingers. "I can deal with this alone."

He threw his hands up in frustration at her words, "No, you can't. Your fears won't let you sleep, and you need to talk about this. Before the bitterness and anger take control of you."

He could hear his blood pumping, her stubbornness giving him a headache. He took a deep breath in again to calm himself, but his heart still banged against his chest.

She jolted to her feet, balling her hands into fists. "Why do you care anyway? Isn't it like my lack of sleep is hurting you."

The question finally brought an end to his patience, and he found himself shouting, all of his worries making themselves heard." "Because one day, your anger will explode, and you will hurt everyone around you!"

She opened her mouth to speak, but no word came. She dropped back on the log, bowing her head. When she spoke again, her voice quivered. "I...would never think of hurting any of you."

His anger immediately dispersed, hearing the pain in her voice. He felt ashamed by his outburst, but the thought of her succumbing to her rage and fears made him realise he was right. He made the mistake of acting gently and carefully with Anders when he noticed the changes in him but never pushed him to seek help. He promised himself he won't make that mistake ever again, even if it meant shouting at the ones he cared about.

He reached for her shoulder, and she jerked under his touch but relaxed as he gave her a squeeze. She kept her head down, avoiding his eyes.

"I know, Sparks, I know," he spoke again, this time his voice softening, and he hoped she understood how much he cared about her and her well-being. And not only because she wore that cursed Mark but because he saw her as a friend. "But if you let your anger and fear build-up, it will happen. I've already seen that once. I don't want you to end up like that."

"You really think I should talk with Solas?” she asked, her voice just a whisper. She fidgeted with the rim of her blouse, wrapping it around her fingers.

"Yes. And if he won't help you, I'm here if you need to talk. I can't take your nightmares away, but I can listen. You're not alone."

When looked at him again, he saw tears forming at the corner of her eyes, but she quickly raised her hand and wiped them away. "I'll speak with Solas later. Thank you."

"It's fine, Sparks. Sometimes it's easy to forget others care about us.”

She rubbed her nose, sniffing loudly. "Kids learn only when you shout at them, right?"

He chuckled softly and released her shoulder. "Right."

They sat in silence for a few seconds, and before he could say anything, she got up again, but this time, her face showed no signs of anger. "I'll go get some wood for the fire."

He nodded at her, relief washing over him. "All right. I'll stay here."

She hummed in acknowledgement and strolled towards the forest. He watched her as she dragged her feet through the dust, head down, shoulders slumped, and he shook his head. He did the right thing by staying with the Inquisition because even heroes need a friendly shoulder to cry on.

#writing prompt #storiesofthedas #elluin lavellan #varric #campfire #noire writes #dragon age #dragon age fanfic #**×**

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Fifty-One

Table of Content or Part Fifty

Wattpad

Word count: 4.6K

Warning(s): explicit language, drug abuse, minor sexual situations, violence

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My stomach aches with laughter as Duff delivers his punchline of his joke, my hands coming up to cover my mouth as I try to chew my fried mozzarella stick and he takes a sip of his beer, laughing as I snort, which only causes me to laugh even harder, until the both of us are laughing possibly the ugliest anyone has ever laughed, and I'm discarding my food into a napkin because I'm laughing too hard to try to chew it.

My eyes are watering, and thin tears roll down my cheeks.

We finally calm down, seeing people glaring at us for being so loud, but we ignore them.

"That was pretty good." I give him credit where credit is due, shifting in my seat a little and taking in a sharp breath as my sore thigh takes notice of the movement.

"Are you okay?" He asks me and I nod.

"It's still sore." I tell him, trying not to take notice of the expression on his face that flashes for a split second.

Nobody could understand why the hell I went right back home when I got out of the hospital like Nikki hadn't put my life in serious danger.

It wasn't like Nikki had intentionally shot at me. He didnt know what the hell I was and just kicked into to survival mode.

I didn't see the big deal in staying with him.

Tommy, Vince and Mick didn't even know what really happened. Doc had told them the same thing he told me to tell the press: I dropped Nikki's gun on accident, while trying to move it, and it went off and caught me.

He didn't want them to know the truth because they were working on the new album, and he didn't want to "create conflict" within the group.

So the only people that knew the truth aside from Fred, Doc and Nikki, was Duff, Slash, Steven, Izzy and Axl.

It wasn't long after that, that Axl informed me he wrote "You're Crazy" about me as a joke, but realized he was pretty right to write it because, in his words, "you staying with the crackhead heroin junkie that already treats you like shit, then fucking shot you, just solidifies my theory that you're actually, medically, out of your mind, and your insanity isn't just 'to be determined' anymore" and I asked him if he "wanted to be the pot or the kettle?"

The irony of him--out of all people--calling anybody else "crazy" was beyond me.

Thirty-two years later and he still dedicates the song to me every time they play it live.

After we're done eating our Sunday lunch, we pay and head to my car, slowly, because I'm limping and Duff's walking slow so he doesn't leave me.

"So, I kinda did something for your late birthday present." He informs me out of nowhere and I raise my brows.

"What do you mean?" I ask, fumbling to get my keys from my purse, shielding my eyes from the harsh sun in my face as we head to the parking lot.

"Mandy and I broke up." He states and I raise my brows.

"...You broke up with your girlfriend as my birthday present?" I'm confused and he chuckles it off.

"No!" He nervously rubs at the back of his neck. "She broke up with me, actually, but that's not what your present is."

"She broke up with you? Are you okay?" I ask.

"It's a girl, Viv. There's plenty more decent girls to choose from when I'm ready to be in a relationship again." He shrugs.

"Did she tell you why she was breaking things off?" I question.

"Just needed space or time or something like that, I don't know. I was kinda drunk when she called to tell me."

"She broke up with you over a phone call?" I raise my voice, my nostrils flaring.

"Viv, chill out." He let's out with a laugh, nudging me with his arm. "You haven't let me explain the good part of this."

"Well then explain." I clear my throat and he rubs his lips together.

"I talked to Nikki last night 'cause he and Tommy came around to hangout with us for a little while." He explains.

"Mhm?"

"I mentioned the fact that you were kinda getting back into dancing and he said he'd been meaning to ask me about it because you'd told him about Mandy letting you use their rehearsal space to dance."

"She didn't even know I was using it, you just sneak me in whenever she's not there. Well, at least, you did. I'm assuming she got the key back from you."

"You're not letting me finish." He points out and I roll my eyes and sigh.

"Okay. I'm listening."

"Nikki and I conspired together, and I'm buying the place from Mandy, and Nikki is going to pay for any renovations and cleaning up it probably definitely needs."

I stop walking, my face falling, unable to say anything.

"So...happy birthday?" He cautiously finishes, not able to gauge how I'm gonna react.

I just start crying.

"I-I'm sorry, if you didn't want that we can--"

"--I'm not crying because I'm upset, I'm crying because I'm happy." I tell him, wiping my running mascara.

"Viv." He smiles a little, and I hug him to me, my arms around him tightly as I squeeze my eyes closed.

"Thank you." I mumble to him and he kisses at my hair for a second.

"Happy birthday."

I knew on Nikki's part it was an attempt to apologize without actually saying "I'm sorry for shooting you" because if he said "I'm sorry" it would mean admitting he was wrong and I was right about his drug use.

And Vivian could never be right about anyone over-doing it with their bad habits.

I shut the front door, slipping my kitten heels off by the door before I calmly step through the house to get to our bedroom so I can change from my church dress.

Nikki's passed out in our bed. I've gotten to where I have to wake him up and get him to bed or just sleep next to him in the closet.

I accidentally rolled over and stabbed myself with one of his used needles a few nights ago so I've been praying he's been using clean needles and isn't going to transfer anything weird to me.

I change clothes and get into our bed, watching him sleep, at least I think he's asleep.

"How was church?" He asks me, keeping his liner smudged eyes shut and I run the tip of my finger over his bare chest.

"It was good." I reply. "It ran late again today." I lie, not wanting him to find out about Duff and I eating lunch again.

"Oh." He yawns, turning over to face me and I get a little closer to him, hooking my leg around his hip and he grins softly, resting his hand on the curve of my back.

"So, Zutaut called again." I tell him and he sighs out.

"Nope." He sits up and I untangle from him, rolling my eyes as I follow him into the bathroom.

"You didn't even let me finish." I argue, crossing my arms and leaning against the doorway as he puts the toilet seat up to pee.

"I don't need to let you finish. This is the second time he's called in the three days and you told me the first time he called he was wondering if I'd be up to produce your friends' album."

"I love how they're strictly just my friends as soon they inconvenience you. Which I don't even consider this an inconvenience."

"Then what is it, Viv?" He flushes the toilet and steps to the shower to turn it on.

"An opportunity to actually listen to our--'our' meaning 'your's, too'--friends' music. And help them get it put down on an album that actually stays true to their sound instead of trying to add all the extra bull crap that everyone else that's wanted to produce them, has done." I state as he gets his clothes off and gets into the shower.

"What's in it for me?" He asks over the sound of the water.

"Um, the satisfaction of helping a hungry band reach their dreams and share their music? Also helping them get money because once the kids see the album is produced by Nikki Sixx they're gonna buy it because they trust your opinion on good rock music?" I suggest hopefully.

"I want blowjobs." He cuts through the sentimental atmosphere I created in my mind surrounding friendship and dedication, and I glare at the shower as my face drops from it's smile into an unamused expression. "Like, on-command blowjobs. Anytime, anywhere."

"You want me to drop to my knees the second you snap your fingers? Ha!" I scoff.

"Then I'm not even gonna consider producing them."

"Oh my goodness gracious, fine!" I give up, letting out a heavy sigh. "For how long?"

"Um, until I come?"

"No, I mean over what duration of time do I have to sacrifice the wellbeing of my jaw for your disgusting and degrading satisfaction?"

"Until you get arthritic to the point of not being able to get down that low without throwing a joint out of place." He says and I raise a brow, yanking the shower open.

"I am not gonna be in my fifties getting on my knees every time you want some head." I state and he laughs.

"If I have to give you on-command BJs, you have to go down on me on-command."

"You don't even have to tell me to eat you out, I'll gladly do it without the say-so." He says as he shapes his lathered hair straight up with his hands and I have to keep myself from laughing at his childishness. "And can you close that, It's kinda nippley out there." He motions outside of the shower and I shake my head a little before pinning my hair off of my shoulders with a hair clip on our counter and start pulling my clothes off.

I get in with him and he smirks.

"Am I in trouble?" He asks and I raise my brows before reaching my hands up to squish down on his hair that he's got perfectly sculpted upward with shampoo. "No, Viv!" He tries to protect it, laughing loudly.

Tom Zutaut had pressed at me to convince Nikki to at least consider producing "Appetite for Destruction."

Everyone that was interested in Guns N' Roses wanted to alter their music or add unnecessary elements to their signature raw sound. He knew Nikki advocated for people not compromising on what they want, especially with their music, and knew he would never try to produce the album the way he wanted it, but the way the band wanted it.

The only problem there was in the plan...

I roll my eyes as Nikki takes a bump of coke to try to pull himself out of his heroin induced stupor as I fall back in the seat across from him in the limousine, wiping my smudged lipstick from around my mouth, panting, hot and bothered because he started something and couldn't get his prick up to finish it.

Oh, the joys of body function inhibiting drugs.

"Okay, c'mon." He says as he takes a deep breath.

I get back on him to straddle his lap, my hands pulling my dress up my hips and pushing my panties aside while he rubs at himself.

It doesn't seem like he's getting any harder, and the mood is ruined.

"Babe, it's okay." I sigh out, calmly, although I'm frustrated.

"Fuck." He curses, just as irritated, his boot harshly kicking the edge of the seats across from us, his fingers grasping at his hair.

I fix my panties back and move off of him, smoothing my dress back down as he tucks himself back into his pants and laces them back up.

"I'm sorry, Viv." He turns his head to the side to look at me while he's leaning his head back.

"It's fine." I assure him. "Not like I need to be putting that much pressure on my thigh anyway." I add and the atmosphere in the car immediately tenses up.

He doesn't reply, putting his shades on to prepare for the flashing cameras bound to find us.

He despises the press.

I don't blame him.

Once we get stopped, Nikki's opening the door, tightly grasping at my hand.

"Nikki! Nikki!" They all seem to be shouting, followed by questions such as, "you guys working on the album?", "what are some songs we can expect on the new album?", "when are you releasing a new record?", "is it true you went to rehab for heroin?", "are you still on drugs?"

"Vivian, there's pregnancy rumors, do you know who, in the band, is the father?" Someone shouts and I ignore them, keeping my head down and my eyes closed, letting Nikki cut through the reporters and get us into the venue to meet Tom and let Nikki experience his first official Guns N' Roses show.

...Nikki hated it.

He was ready to leave only two songs in and showed absolutely no interest in spending his time producing them.

He wouldn't even really pin point what exactly he didn't like about their music or their playing, he just didn't like it.

He admits now that he was so fucked up that night, in particular, that he wouldn't have known what was good music if it hit him in the face.

I figured that might have been the case since he was the first one to put in for Guns N' Roses to join Mötley Crüe on the "Girls, Girls, Girls" tour and advocate for their music.

His mood swings gave me whiplash.

"What do you think so far?" Tom asks Nikki as Nikki takes a sip of his drink.

"I don't see the fuss." He states, and Tom and I exchange looks, confused.

"W-What?" I ask, furrowing my brows. "Are you kidding me?"

"Did I stutter?"

"W--C'mon, Nikki, you haven't even heard some of their other stuff. These kids have the potential to be extraordinary, they're almost there. You can't just write them off like this."

"I'm not writing anybody off. They're my friends and I dig their enthusiasm but I can barely find the time to work on our own album, let alone produce someone else's and they're not striking me enough to make me want to sacrifice more of my time to produce them."

"Baby, if you would just give them a chan--"

"--Viv, I said 'no'." He sternly scolds me and tears swell up in my eyes because I could have sworn Nikki would have really liked their music.

"I'll be right back." I tell them, stepping to the bathroom to dry my tears.

At the time I thought Nikki was just being an asshole.

He didn't tell me he didn't want to produce them because he wouldn't have done the kind of job they deserved for their talent on their debut album.

He wanted to do right by them, and that meant staying as far away from their music as possible.

He didn't tell anyone that because that would have been him admitting he had a problem.

"Lose the nasty attitude, Vivian." Nikki orders as I stomp into our house while he shuts the front door behind him, locking it.

"Why? You gonna toss me aside, too?" I hiss, taking my jacket off and throwing my purse onto the coffee table, crossing my arms.

"Will you just drop it? It's not like there aren't thousands of producers that would love to help them out." He takes his jacket off, tossing it to the couch.

"What is wrong with their music? Is it their sound, their personality, their--"

"--Vivian, I said 'drop it'!" He barks.

"I have every right to be angry, Nikki! You clearly might not give a fuck about them but they are my friends--who I know good and damn well have immense talent and there's even some of it that's yet to be untapped--and I just wanted you to give them an actual shot at achieving the thing all of them have worked their asses off for and dreamed about since they were kids!" I throw my hands up.

"I'm done talking about this." He states, stepping to our bedroom.

"I'm not!" I take my heel off and throw it as hard as I can at his head.

It hits the back of his hair and he stops in his tracks.

"Tom said it himself, and you heard him: Guns N' Roses will be the biggest rock n roll band in the world if they just get someone behind them that can guide them to where they need to be!" I ball my fists up at my sides, digging my nails into my palms.

Nikki just slowly turns to face me, his eyes wild, his breathing labored, and a out of line theory sprouts in my mind, but the way he's been acting lately it won't surprise me if it's true.

"Is that why you won't help them?" I ask him, cutting my eyes. "Because they're possibly going to dethrone Mötley Crüe?"

The fact that I'm insinuating he gives a fuck about bullshit "competition", especially in regards to his friends, just infuriates him more. I see it in his eyes.

He just turns back around and goes to our bedroom, slamming the door shut.

I roll my jaw, my eyes drifting to the beautiful display of his gold and platinum records on the wall beside the hallway that leads to guest bedrooms.

My skin of my knuckles is splitting open when my fist collides with the glass of the "Shout at the Devil" Gold award.

Platinum's next.

Just before I'm going for "Too Fast for Love", Nikki's screaming from our bedroom doorway, Jack Daniel's in hand.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" He shouts and I just shoot him a glare before taking the "Too Fast for Love" plaque off the wall. "Put the fucking plaque down Vivian." Nikki orders, stepping closer to me.

"Produce their album." I demand, acting as if I'm going to drop it.

"Put. It. Down. Vivian."

"Or what? You'll shoot me again?" I taunt him and he grinds his teeth. "Produce their album." I repeat.

"Go to hell, crazy bitch." He snaps.

"You go first!" I holler back, hurling the award at the wall and it crashes into another plaque and they both shatter to pieces.

I turn around just in time to see Nikki pouring Jack all over my Bible that he'd plucked from the coffee table, just before pulling his lighter out.

"Stop!" I shriek, rushing to him.

I'm too late, though, and he's lighting it up and throwing it into the empty fire place just as I make it to him.

A God-awful feeling of dread fills me as Sikki looks very proud of himself.

I can't even look at him right now.

Walking to the kitchen to wash my bleeding hand off and get it wrapped up, I start to think a mile a minute.

My heart clenches in my chest as tears line my lashes.

How predictable of Nikki Sixx to burn a fucking Bible just to piss off a christian who's had said Bible since childhood...but it somehow shocks me that he'd do it to me, I guess.

I glance down at my wedding ring.

I've noticed it feels more and more like a weight with every argument he and I have.

Our entire relationship was just an open body of water that, that freaking ring was dragging me deeper and deeper in to.

The pressure was starting to get painful and I needed air.

My finger tips tug at my wedding ring and I leave it on the kitchen counter before I'm walking to our bedroom-- while he's still in the living room-- locking the door and heading to the closet, quickly gathering every lick of heroin, coke, and pills before going to our bathroom and flushing all of it, all the while Nikki's banging his fist against our bedroom door.

I hear a loud crash, and realize he kicked the door in.

"Vivian!" He screams as I'm giving the final flush to the last bindle, opening the bathroom door.

He's pushing me aside rather roughly and stomping to the toilet as the sound of the tank refilling with water let's him know what I've been doing.

"What did you do?!" He seethes at me, finger in my face, eyes shot, five o'clock shadow framing his gritted teeth.

And I just turn around with the intention of getting my shoes back on and leaving.

His hand is catching in my hair and yanking me back to him.

"Nikki, fuck off!"

"Don't fucking walk away from me!" He yells.

"I should have walked away from you six years ago!" I exclaim, tears of anger rolling down my cheeks.

This gets his attention because he's letting me go, an obvious expression of hurt on his face.

"I should have never slept with you. I should have never dated you. I should have never told you I'd marry you and I never should have taken vows to love and honor and protect someone who can't even get off of drugs long enough to love and honor and protect me." I sniffle and he blinks at me slowly as if holding back on his emotions.

"Then walk the fuck away." He hisses at me, rolling his jaw.

I left.

Nikki called Vanity.

And I went to find Duff.

I shut my car door before making my way into the Seventh Veil, running a hand through my hair as music blares through the speakers.

I glance around, hoping they're here because I've been up and down the strip and they've been nowhere to be found.

My prayers are answered when I look to see the massive fluff of blonde hair and I walk over to the table where Duff, Izzy, Steven, and Slash are, yanking a chair from a neighboring table and sitting with them.

They give me weird looks, Steven glancing around to check for Nikki or any of the other guys, before exchanging looks with Duff and Slash while Izzy seems unphased, his eyes on the same thing mine are on: the dancer on stage.

"Um...Viv?" Steven asks me cautiously and I side eye him.

"Yeah." I mumble.

"Uh, a-are you here alone?" He asks.

"Yep."

"Do you like strippers or something?" Slash asks me next.

"Nope."

"Did Nikki piss you off?" Duff's next.

"Yep."

"Is your hand alright?" Steven motion's to my hand that's got a scabbed over, bloody cut over the top of it.

"Shh, guys, she has to keep a clear mind so she can properly construct her plan to ask the dancers if they've accepted Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior." Izzy sarcastically puts in and I cut my eyes at him as he takes another drag of his cigarette.

"Talk all your shit, Stradlin. Just gives me more motivation to curate ideas to make your life harder."

"Your existence in itself makes my life harder." He scoffs.

"Good that means I'm fulfilling one of the purposes God gave me for my life."

"Is your other purpose getting your husband so heated he throws you out of the house?"

"Oh, I'm sorry." I pretend to feel sorry, poking my lip out a little. "I forget I can't be upset with Nikki around you because you get bothered at the thought of anyone being upset with your gothic, heroin hounding, drug buddy because you're kindred spirits that have bonded over being tortured artists."

"Oh, go read your Bible." He tells me.

"Can't. Nikki set it on fire." I shoot back and Duff chokes on his drink.

"He what?" Duff asks me, like he's trying to contain a little anger over it.

"So we can expect the Sixxes to get a divorce?" Izzy asks me, clearly joking, and I shake my head.

"No, he's just being a junked-out prick." I mumble, crossing my arms.

"Do you wanna get your anger out by aggressively throwing our money?" Steven asks and I blink.

"I'll go politely put the money on the edge of the stage." I say and Duff finishes his drink, setting the glass face down.

"Alright, let's get outta here." He tells me with a sigh, standing up. "We'll see you guys later."

"Alright, man." Izzy nods. "Viv." He adds.

"Izzy." I reply.

"Bye, Viv." Steven and Slash both say and I smile a little.

"Bye, guys."

I follow Duff out of the club, and he nearly trips coming out, causing me to grab at his hand and arm to try to help him keep balanced, and a few flashes go off, signaling paparazzi and I audibly groan as they move in.

My hand shields my eyes as my other hand holds tightly to Duff's arm as asinine questions are thrown at me but I ignore them.

The bastards got a good enough shot at just the right second--with me holding onto Duff with both of my hands, the two of us sharing wide smiles because we were laughing over him nearly tripping to the ground--that it definitely came across as "a picture's worth a thousand words" but the only words told by that picture was that we were a little more than friends...and that's what the headline spun it up as by the time it landed in Nikki's hands.

The argument it led to sparked the birth of "You're All I Need", delivered by the vocals of Vince, from the demented mind of Sikki Nixx himself.

"Where'd you park?" Duff asks me in my ear over the sound of photography and strangers talking at us, and I tug him into direction of my car that's parked down the street against the curb.

"Welp that's something I'm gonna get to explain to Nikki." I state as soon as we get into my car.

"He knows nothing's happening." He replies, laughing it off.

"Yeah, right." I say under my breath, as I start heading down the road. "Where to?" I ask, stopping at a stop light.

"Oh, I don't know I was just trying to keep you from swinging on Izzy." He admits with a chuckle and I shake my head a little.

"I'd never hit Izzy. Axl, definitely, Izzy, no. He's my favorite."

"Izzy's your favorite? How'd that happen? You two are, like, polar opposites." He asks me with an amused smile.

"He agrees that Sid probably killed Nancy." I inform him and he throws his head back and let's out a frustrated, but humorous, groan.

After finally deciding to just get milk-shakes, we sit in a corner booth of Denny's and once we get out orders, Duff's clearing his throat.

"So, I saw you guys at the show earlier."

He tells me and I raise my brows, sipping at my strawberry milkshake. "You didn't tell us you were coming, we could've told them to take you guys backstage."

"We weren't able to stay very long afterwards...Nikki just wanted to see you guys play together live." I explain.

"Oh." He nods, before asking the dreaded question: "what did he think?"

"He digs you guys." I lie, giving a little smile.

The guys never knew Nikki was approached to produce the album, each of them found out later.

I think they're secretly glad he never touched "Appetite for Destruction."

That album would have been an absolute train wreck under his junkie guidance, just like everything else that Nikki seemed to be apart of in 1987.

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction #gateway drug

[hoardofhyperfixations]

Powerful Chapter 9: Prince

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

Warnings: homophobia, use of the word f*ggot as a slur, Remus being Remus so it gets kinda ick

Pairings: Mostly Dukeceit, hints of prinxiety, background Logicality for this chapter

Summary: Remus joins the party! Use "Flirt" on Dee? *Yes *No

Notes: Congrats to @paranovigilant for guessing Remus' power correctly! He's...not subtle with how he uses it.

Loud shrieks filled the air, which caused a crooked grin to spread across his face.

Remus surveyed his brother's friends; Patton was still there in all his good-two-shoes-ness, and was that Logan Trams?

If he remembered correctly, that was the guy Patton wanted to bone.

There was a guy with dark eyeshadow under his eyes and was leaning into Roman, and another with curly brown hair, mismatched blue and green eyes, and a large burn mark taking up the left half of his face.

Ooo, he looks fun!

"Remus!" Roman hissed. "How the hell did you get in?"

"The normal way?" Remus scoffed, green eyes never leaving the scarred boy.

He was cute.

"I was just down by the door." Eyeshadow-dude said, looking confused. The cute guy nodded in agreement, apparently thinking Remus had meant walking through the front door like an absolute cowardly loser of a person.

"No, stupid, I climbed through the window. Geez, Ro, why are your friends so dumb?" Remus stretched his arms, yawning.

"You climbed through my window?" Logan demanded.

"Ugh." Roman groaned, rubbing his face. Remus grinned. "Guys, this is my brother, Remus. He's...well..."

"Hi, Remus!" Patton waved, used to his shenanigans already so he was unaffected. Remus waved back.

"Hi, puppy!" He chirped back, sticking out his tongue out at him and showing off his tongue piercing.

Logan narrowed his eyes in response but said nothing.

Ooo, drama much? Someone's jealous.

"I'm Logan Trams." Logan introduced.

"So I've heard." Remus winked at Patton.

"Does everyone here just automatically know who I am or something?" Logan huffed.

"Virgil." Eyeshadow-dude moved on, completely ignoring Logan. "Uh, nice to meet you, I guess…"

"Raccoon." Remus nodded thoughtfully.

"..." Cute-scar-guy said nothing. Remus frowned.

"Aren't you gonna introduce yourself?" They met eyes for a moment.

"Dee." He blurted, cutting eye contact quickly. "I, um, like your hair."

"Aw, thanks!" Remus beamed. "I like your scar!"

Dee frowned but said nothing in reply.

"Hey, Rem, maybe not the best thing to say." Roman elbowed him in the ribs.

"You guys are all so boring!" Remus whined, pouting a bit and kicking his feet up on Logan's lap. "So, what exactly are we talking about? Mutilation, hopefully?"

-

Remus plopped down beside Dee at lunch, directly across from his brother, who he promptly kicked under the table for no reasons other than he could and he wanted to.

"Hey, double D." He said, nudging Dee lightly with his arm. "What's up?"

Dee looked...surprised? Why would he be surprised?

"What? You look like you saw a ghost or somethin'." He smirked, resting his elbow on Dee's shoulder for fun.

"Oh, um, I'm fine." Dee muttered. "I just, uh, don't get asked that a lot."

Remus licked Dee's scar in response.

Dee squeaked a bit, leaning away and flushing bright red all the way up to the tips of his ears.

"What the hell?"

"You taste like salt."

"That's called sweat."

"Ah. Fun fact: dolphins have sex for pleasure, but they don't get sweaty!"

"Thank you for that vital information." Dee answered, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Wow, now that was a good look for him.

Remus definitely wanted to get in his pants.

Dee went back to picking at the school lunch. Remus looked at it and pulled a face, over dramatically gagging. Even he knew it was nasty.

Looks like rat vomit with blood and boogers and shi-

He set down his neon green lunch box with a black outline of a clicker villain's mustache on it.

"Fuck that," Remus nudged Dee, "you can eat some of my lunch. That looks like when you throw a guinea pig up into the air but the ceiling fan catches it and hurls it against the wall full force and hits a cockroach on the way down."

This is how you flirt, right?

He'd have to ask Roman later.

"Oh." Dee said softly. "Thank you. I like your lunch box."

"Thanks! I like your ass!"

"Oh…"

-

As it turned out, Remus had a few classes with Dee.

Which was perfect, especially gym since he got to check him out in the changing room.

And apparently Dee had the same train of thought since he was almost 100% staring at Remus when he took off his puke green t-shirt.

"Eyes up here, Big D." Remus teased, even though Dee was a decent amount shorter than him. The boy next to Dee made a face and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'faggot'.

Ah.

Remus narrowed his eyes.

Is that a walking piece of shit I see?

The boy shoved past Dee.

It is!

"Hey!" Remus jogged over and tapped W.P.O.S. Boy on the shoulder, grinning as his bare fingers made direct contact with the other's skin.

Perfect.

"What do you want?"

"Oh, nevermind. I thought you were someone else." Remus lied through his teeth, turning back around and pulling on his black tank top and green shorts. Dee had already changed, and damn if Remus wasn't going to admire his ass in those black shorts.

He had other things to do at the moment, sauntering out the locker room door after the boy. He waited impatiently for Dee to come out as well, quiet as ever, before he snapped his fingers and the boy's eyes turned the same shade of forest green as his own.

This will be fun.

"PENIS!" He shouted as he stood up straight. "VAGINA! ASSHOLE! FUCK! PUSSY! I'M A HOMOPHOBIC PIECE OF SHIT!" He twirled and danced like a ballerina with a broken foot who had her eyes gouged out and stuffed down her throat. Remus kept his hand hidden as it guided the boy's movements. "I HAVE A TINY, TINY, MINISCULE PENIS! FUCK! SHI-"

"Rodney!"

"SHIIIIIIIIT!" The boy, Rodney exclaimed one last time before blinking hard and slouching, eyes returning to brown. "I-"

"Rodney, to the principal's office right now!" Mr. Orick snapped, writing Rodney a pass quickly and handing it to him.

Dee was covering his mouth to stifle a snorting laugh, which Remus considered a huge success.

"Geez, I wonder what his deal was." Remus said, admiring his sloppily painted black nails. They were already chipping.

"I don't know, but he seemed like a jerk anyway." Dee said, messing with the gloves he'd kept on. That was pretty weird.

"Why do you have those gloves on?" Dee tensed. Remus didn't really notice. "They're cool! But why?"

"I don't...wanna talk about it-"

"Why not? Oh, are they burnt like your face? Are they all crispy and black like overcooked French fries? Do they look like burnt pans? Or twigs from a forest fire?" Remus continued, looking up at the ceiling as he rambled on, thinking up different ways burnt up fingers could look. "Or maybe they're all red and bubbly, like-"

"Remus." Dee hissed, glaring at him. "That's enough." He scooted away, looking away. Was he uncomfortable?

Remus frowned.

Was it something he said? Did he do something wrong?

He lifted his arm and sniffed his armpit.

No, he'd actually showered today--and with soap!--so the smell wasn't it.

At least not this time.

"Sorry?"

"..." Back to the quiet? The silence Remus so desperately hated?

Oh, blood coated booger teeth! And things were going so well.

So much for flirting...

Powerful Taglist: @sea-blue-child @ab-artist @freepaperie081 @soft-transboy @zamoradraw @beach-fan @nerdy-as-heck @cute-anxious-kitten @imjustawibba @theangstking @the-dumbster @theunoriginaldaisy @romansleftshoulderpad @what-a-catch-joe @clcloudsh @fuck-the-sushi @sevenstevearmy @soul-of-a-vixen @paranovigilant

#powers au #powerful #dukeceit #the trash talks #ignore the trash #the trash writes #old posts