#to the good olde favorites with a new flame

[anniilaugh]

If I’ve crawled out of a 6y long art block hell for zosan you know it’s hitting me Real

#zosan #sanzo #sanji #zoro #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #one piece #anniinart #art #sketches #how does one draw again??? :’’D #it’s nice #let me cook #sleeping zoro has no business to be so cute #gay panic sanji is a good sanji #and I’d kill for smol sanji #let him call zeff dad #it’s nice to have an obsession again #to the good olde favorites with a new flame #I love these idiots

[indigovigilance]

Jimbriel, Satan, the Book of Life, and what it means for Crowley

Acknowledging that what we know so far about the Book of Life from various characters is highly suspect, I'm going to posit to you that Beelzebub is actually the true authority on the Book of Life, and that they bookend Season 2 with very important (and hopefully accurate) information about the Book of Life. With that in mind, let's take Beezlebub's S2E1 description and see how it fits with other canon evidence:

But what does it mean to have never existed in the Good Omens universe? For that, let us look to Satan.

From in-show canon, we know that Adam was able to retroactively change Satan's status as his father to not his father:

Adam altered reality, although Crowley, Aziraphale, the other celestials, and even Adam himself remember those events from a timeline that supposedly has been erased:

But Crowley nonetheless confirms that this is reality now. Satan was never Adam's father.

Additionally, though not technically in-show canon, we know from Notorious NRG that once Satan became Lucifer, this erased Lucifer from existence in the GO universe:

And Crowley's monologue in the bar drives it home; even though Lucifer no longer exists, Crowley still remembers him, and some key events that they were involved in together.

But a more dramatic portrayal of erasure is found in our favorite Good Omens himbo, Jimbo. In the trial of Gabriel, the Metatron makes direct allusion to the fact that Gabriel will no longer be Gabriel after his demotion:

Not "your memory of your time as the supreme archangel will be erased," no, it's:

Your memory of your time as Gabriel will be erased.

Whether he means to or not, Aziraphale reinforces this characterization of memory-loss-as-new-identity:

This can be taken simply as a safety measure, but Jimbo doesn't understand it that way and we see throughout the remainder of the season that Aziraphale is very consistent about calling his unexpected guest "Jim," even correcting Crowley when they're speaking privately and it wouldn't blow his cover to call him Gabriel:

But the final word on memory and identity, especially as they pertain to Jimbriel, again comes from our Lord of the Flies, Beelzebub:

All your you is your memories.

Altogether we see that there is significant in-show canon to support a theory that memory is inextricably linked with identity, and that when memory is removed, identity is so drastically changed that the name of the entity must also change... and the person who existed before, with that former name, exists no longer; it is as if they never had.

(But, as we see in the case of Gabriel, they can be restored.)

I told you in the title that this post was about the Book of Life: it is. Everything discussed here about memory and identity must necessarily characterize how the Book of Life operates, at least with respect to erasure. When someone is erased, they don't vanish, but they are so changed it is as if a new person has taken the place of the old, the way Jim took the place of Gabriel, until he got his memories back. But we can surmise that when someone is erased from the Book of Life, their memories aren't conveniently stored in a TARDIS/Ru Paul fly for later recovery. The memories may not be gone, but I'm going to guess that they would be extremely difficult (or impossible) to retrieve.

What this means for Crowley:

I think we need to give this scene a lot more credit for telling us how this universe works. Surface level, it reads as "you don't understand my trauma, and how I've been changed by it." Which is a very valid interpretation. But we can dig deeper and see that, given everything else we know about celestial beings losing their memories, names, and identities, Crowley is alluding to something far more horrific than just the scars left by flaming swords and halo-grenades.

These are the scars of a lobotomy. Something was taken from him, and he is aware of it.

He knows that his memory has been tampered with. Various people (Furfur, Saraqael) tell him that they recognize him, and of things they've done together. He has no recollection of them, but instead of getting agitated, he brushes it off and ignores it. This lack of questions from the guy who questions everything tells us that he already has the answers; not the memories, but the knowledge of why he doesn't have them.

Furthermore, when he's trying to get Jim to remember the something bad and Jim says it hurts, Crowley says:

I know. Do it anyway.

How does Crowley know that it hurts, to try to recall memories that have been taken out of your head?

Because he's been through it.

He has tried to remember, and some memories, like working on the Horsehead Nebula with Saraqael or monkeying around with Furfur, weren't worth the pain. Or perhaps it was pain on top of pain to remember what he had lost.

It is an especial testament to the cruelty of Heaven that he remembers going into battle, but not the bonds he formed with his friends. He remembers a million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulfur, but not the work he did on the Horsehead Nebula, a thing that brought him joy.

And now, the person he loves most in the world, his only refuge from the terror of his empty nightmares, from his malignant and creeping sense of unease that something is missing, has gone back to that place where his identity was so horribly violated that he lost his name.

How will our hero cope?

If you liked this meta, you will almost certainly like my meta on Continuity Errors.

For my thoughts on who Crowley may have been before the fall, go here.

For my thoughts on how this pertains to Metatron, go here.

As I continue to produce metas related to this theory, you'll be able to find them all here.

#good omens #good omens 2 #book of life #good omens meta #aziraphale #crowley #gabriel #ineffable husbands #ineffable bureaucracy #beelzebub #ivoc #erasure theory

[minispidey]

04: Barbie and the Giftshopist.

Steven Grant x f!bimbo!reader. previous part. series masterlist.

04. Breaking into a museum with Barbie!

warnings: breaking and entering??? none really.

note: italics are the boys in headspace talking ❤️

As usual, it was as if you and Steven were in sync: showering, preparing, and dressing up at the same time before walking towards your doors and opening them in unison.

"Steven!" you smiled brightly at him as you stepped out of your flat and locked it "Okay! I got our whole afternoon to dinner planned out. I made a list~"

"Alright." he laughs "What's first?"

You crumpled the paper and threw it behind you "Shopping." you grabbed his arm and pulled him into the elevator fast.

You drove to the nearest furniture shop and practically dragged Steven inside "Come on! You need a proper table. Just because it's doe-able doesn't mean it's good enough."

"I don't got the money, love."

"Who said you're paying?"

Steven was a moth to a flame. He loved the clear difference between you and him. You were this big ball of energy, a magnet pulling him in. You were a bit of a ditz, but you had an incredible job and lifestyle, and he was just a giftshopist.

Maybe he doesn't deserve you.

"Alright. No more self-sabotaging. Just enjoy your date." Marc said from the headspace, groaning.

"I'm trying." he mumbled. Steven watches you look at different dining tables, knocking and asking for other colors and types of wood.

"Gosh… I've always wanted one like that," he whispered to himself "A little too expensive, though. I could never ask you to–"

"Stevie, come on!" you giggled.

You went further into the back where there wasn't any staff and settled on an oak table "I think this is it!" you lifted yourself and sat on it, letting your slip-on heels fall with two clicks.

"Alright. It's-" Steven's eyes widened at the price "...pricey."

"It's my treat, Stevie. Consider it uh... a gift! To commemorate our date and many more to come, I hope?"

He blushes, nodding "Yeah! Of course." he sets his hand on the table, beside your thigh "Maybe, you know... dinner one of these nights? I'll cook you something."

"Smooth. Don't forget to breathe." Jake chuckled.

You started giggling "I can't say no to that. Totally! I didn't know you can cook."

"You can't." Marc sighs.

"Yeah, I can." Steven took his hand off the table and knelt in front of you taking your heels "What else do you have planned in that list of yours? Anything you wanna do's fine with me."

"Well, Vogue released an article for the top most romantic dates and one of them is at a museum! Which I would personally enjoy, but you already work there." you shrugged "How about we shop until my ankles bruise and top it off with dinner?"

"Woah there, love. Wouldn't want to ruin your shoes now, would you?" he joked as he slipped your heels on your feet.

"Gosh, you're so right! I should buy a new pair to replace these ones!"

It looked brand new to Steven which puzzled him for a second.

"Let's go pay— well, I'll pay— and I'll have it delivered tomorrow." you grab his hand and hop off the table, walking back to the front of the store and placing your credit card down "Put it in my card. We'll take the one in the back."

He watched you with a faint, incredulous smile as the cashier took the card and rang it up. You were a madwoman, a sweet, generous madwoman, and he was in love.

It wasn’t even that the table was expensive, though it was— it was that you’d do this for him that meant so much.

In fact… this wasn’t just his favorite date. It was one of his favorite moments he could remember.

What an enchanting woman you were.

The two of you stopped by a bookstore, dragging him inside. The comforting smell of the books relaxed you and you began to read the titles of the ones lined up on the shelves. One looked old and intrigued you. You took it out and smelled the pages, making Steven smile.

He wandered off on his own, spotting a couple of classic novels before stopping in front of the Egyptology area. Steven checks out a few books, skimming through the pages before the old shopkeep coughs and points at a no reading sign.

"Sorry." Steven closes the book before setting it down. You found him and took his hand, heading deeper into the shop "I wanna look for something."

"Something?"

"Classic. Also one of the reasons why I love romance."

"What's this mysterious book?" he chuckled.

"Pride and Prejudice." you smiled "A prideful shy arrogant man with bad social skills and a prejudiced independent young woman fall in love. The best enemies to lovers book to exist. But then again I didn't read it yet, I watched the movie and the series..."

"Really? Maybe I'll watch it some other day."

"Totally! So, Egyptian history books again?"

"Research. I donated off some of my books from the pile we made last week so I can get new ones. I promise I won't get more than five." he laughs, holding up three books he picked.

"Aw, good for you!"

You placed his purchased books into the back of your car and drove off with him "There were a couple'a Pride and Prejudice books back there. Why'd you didn't get one?"

"Well," you let out a sigh "I wanted to get like, the original one. As in, original release."

"Original release? When was it released?"

"Eighteen–thirteen I think."

Steven stops to think "Love, that book was published over two–hundred years ago."

"And?"

"I don't think you'd be-" he stops himself "Maybe you'll get lucky next time."

"I hope so!" you turn your head towards him "I've been wanting it for so long! Ever since I watched Kiera Knightley, I was never the same! That was love and I refuse to read Pride and Prejudice unless it's the original one."

Steven was worried when you took your eyes off the road and held on to the wheel "Careful!"

"Oops! Sorry~" you giggled as you turned your head back "We should go on a walk to the restaurant! Maybe just a few minutes away."

"We could." he nodded "I'm just worried about your shoes. Are you sure you want to walk on cobblestones in heels, love?"

"I'll be fine! It would be so romantic and-"

"-totes not amazing!" you whimpered while you sat down outside the restaurant and Steven was kneeling down to try and fix your heels.

You two finished eating your dinners and you were still mopey about your pretty pink heels "These were the cutest kitten heels I had and I forgot these were Tommy! It's so hard to find these."

"Sorry, love. I should've stopped you harder." Steven looked up at you.

"No, Stevie. It's fine. I'm the one who insisted on having a romantic walk." you sighed "Can you get the car?"

After a few minutes, he (Jake) managed to drive the car to the restaurant where you waited and he switched to Steven before getting out of the driver's seat. You got up before tripping down because of your broken heel.

"Love, are you alright?" Steven helps you up and slip off your heels.

"I'm okay..." you took your broken heels and opened the trunk of your car, tossing it in before taking out your emergency pink fluffy slippers.

You both entered the car and drove away. It was a quiet drive as you stared straight ahead with a frown, no sign of your usually happy and cheery self present.

Steven thought he ruined it. He should've helped you with the date but instead, he just laid back and let you do whatever. He felt bad. He shouldn't, but he did. Even Marc is trying to tell him the heel wasn't his fault.

"I'm sorry, Stevie... I just wanted to have a really romantic and nice night and my heels ruined it..." you broke the silence a minute later.

"It's alright, love. You don't need to apologize. I enjoyed it anyways. All I really wanted was to be by your side..."

Your eyes lit up and the car slows down in the empty road "Really?"

"We don't even need to go out with a grand plan. Honestly, dates aren't my thing and I'm not good at it. But the times we just hang around in my flat are romantic to me." he smiled at you "Home-cooked dinner, a movie, and you."

You smiled back at him and you realized that he was the perfect man for you. You didn't want to let him go.

"What was that article again— oh, top best dates, right? A museum. Do you still want to go?"

You checked the time "Are you sure it's still open? It's already 10:43..."

"It will be." Steven held up a keychain. You kept staring at the key and he knew you didn't get it "We're gonna break in— well, not break in. I have the key, so. Not breaking in. Besides, I work there."

"Oh my gosh, Stevie!" you cover your mouth, smiling "Isn't this like, totes illegal?"

"Not if we don't get caught."

"Who are you and what did you do to Steven?" Jake laughed from the headspace. Steven ignored his comment and looked at you in the eyes.

"You know what? We've been doing what I want this whole time. Let's do it!" you drove off quickly, excited because of the idea. Steven was happy to see you smile again, and he was sure about his idea.

You parked away from the museum itself and both of you snuck to the door, Steven opening the locks with his keys. He opened it a bit and let you in. He shuts the door immediately and the museum is dark, but it amazes you.

You could still see the artifacts with the moonlight peeking in through the windows. You walked around and smiled as Steven talked about some of the artifacts in the Egypt gallery "And you work at the gift shop? Gosh. You could be a tour guide or something..."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. Totes!" your voice echoed throughout the room "I mean, you should totally apply for it or something. Those books are paying off real well."

Before he knew it, hours passed and you sat in front of a statue, making you curious "Who's this?"

"That's a Caryatid. She was a pillar used to support a roof." Steven looks at it and sits next to you "Caryatid is Greek for maidens of Caryae. She's one of six maidens, the Caryatids of Erechtheion."

"Six?" you turn to him "Where's the other five?"

"Athens from what I remember."

"While she's the only one here in London?" you stared sadly at the statue again "That's so sad... she has sisters and she hasn't been with them for god knows how long... it's so sad..."

Steven looked at you and nodded "It is..." his heart was crushed after understanding what you meant. But it did make his heart skip a beat when you cared for a statue.

"You know, if I had to steal one and give it back, would want to give her back..." you whispered, touching the base with your hand.

After that night, you didn't see Steven for two weeks. You were worried but didn't want to overstep your boundaries.

Was your date really that bad?

You missed having to step outside and see his face every day. It made you a little depressed too. It was yet another morning without Steven's greetings and you picked up the newspaper from outside your door before walking to your bed and opening it up to read the latest news.

As you were about to take a sip of your morning drink, you dropped it by accident upon seeing the article.

The Homecoming Triumph: Athens Welcomes the 6th Caryatid Statue.

UP NEXT: what happened to steven in the last two weeks?!

tags: @red-hydra @monsterroonio @pastelpinkpilatesprincess @letmehavemyfictionalmen @uncle-eggy @superduckmilkshake @3zae-zae3

#moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant smut #moon knight system #x bimbo!reader #bimbo reader #x bimbo reader #marc spector smut #jake lockley smut #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #oscar isaac

[jester-lover]

Dorm Leaders with a Girlfriend who wears Suits

Warnings: fluff, very flustered boys, insecurity (not from the reader), talks of gender roles/identity, whoever reads this is so cool, reader is so hot and confident (did I mention she’s so hot)

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle has grown up in a certain structure, men lead, women follow, women lead, sons follow

When he sees you, dressed to the nines, not a care for the stares of others; something in him snapped

Head over heels

Considering his rule following tendencies, he is immensely attracted to the rebellious flair of a woman in a suit

You tend to notice him staring at you whenever you wear your male uniform

You always wink at him, reminding him you can see him too

Strawberry Riddle

“Um- well I wasn’t staring! It’s just- you look really pretty…”

Leona Kingscholar

Yes.

PLEASE.

His familial structure is very matriarchal, so seeing you, a confident woman just hits something in his soul

Bro, if you wear the male uniform, he will (politely) ask you to model the Savannaclaw uniform

If you do he’s literally on one knee

Girlfriend? I think you mean WIFE

Also he’s a lil afraid of you considering your confidence, you have a lot of power over people

Trying so hard to be all suave and cool and still such a sucker for you it’s funny

“Woah. I didn’t think anyone could make it work better than me.”

Azul Ashengrotto

He definitely thought you were a competitor at first

Who else would have such smooth banter, such playful glances, than an enemy trying to hinder his business!!

You definitely ask him out because he’s so in his own head, when you do, it’s like the wires in his brain connect finally

Also has a staring problem, the way that you walk with complete confidence, absolute disregard for anyone who speaks ill of you; he dreams of being like that

You lovelovelove pulling him in by his tie for a kiss, because he definitely places his hands on your shoulders all startled

“That lipstick suits you… What?! You think it’ll suit me too?! Don’t just s-say things like that!”

Kalim Al-Asim

Wowie!

This is the best combo ever, smiley pretty boy and a woman with endless personality

He literally buys you anything you want, new suit? Down. Makeup perfectly matching a new suit? Amazing! New shoes with a new suit? Take his credit card!

Kalim literally wants you to have anything you could possibly desire, so

Will buy both of you matching suits for galas and other occasions, and if anyone has the GALL to look down in you for your clothes, he’ll just leave along with you.

The public disgrace that would happen to that person for insulting the s/o of a member of the affluent Al-Asim family would be TREMENDOUS

“You look absolutely radiant. We look so cool!”

Vil Shoenheit

Masculine Wife, Feminine Husband.

He is so down you don’t even get it.

You help him out of the car? It’s trending on magicam in seconds.

Put your coat on a puddle so he can walk past without damaging his shoes? The paparazzi is loving it.

He adores your dynamic, the confidence you have matched his, and it contrasts with the opposite fashion you wear

“Dearest, the rose pinned to your lapel is a perfect match for the color of my overcoat, we will look stunning!”

Idia Shroud

404 error

Idia saw you once and he literally froze on the spot, you walked around like you owned the school!

The crisp edges of your suit reminded him of the butler from one of his favorite anime, so he was immediately nervous to talk to you

When you start dating, he begins to wonder what cosplays you would look good in,

Spy, demon butler, vampire princess, the possibilities are endless with your androgynous fashion

This one time, you took off your blazer, so you just wore a button up and slacks, and you looked so domestic, so old Hollywood beautiful, he burst into red flames

“I can’t believe you settled for someone like me. WHAT-what??! Stop calling me handsome! You really mean it? Wow…I- “

Malleus Draconia

Malleus loves this so much

The sheer power you exude, walking into every room and demanding attention, feminine mixed with masculine creating beauty beyond mankind

He’s obviously obsessed

On your nightly walks, he notes how you choose to take off the blazer in preference of a cardigan, he loves looking at little changes in your wardrobe

Mal is an old being, he’s seen fashion evolve, but I love to think he enjoys 40s/50s era fashion, the way that you choose to portray that style, he loves even more

As you grow more comfortable around one another, more affectionate, malleus will enjoy fixing your tie and buttoning your vests, small acts of domesticity feel so meaningful

He is another who will buy you expensive clothes, his future queen deserves the best

“My love, your tie is crooked. Perhaps you simply wanted me to fix it hm? Such a sly move…”

Welcome back to J sucks at dialogue and cries over pretty women.

But honestly I wrote this bc I want to feel more confident, and I want you to feel more confident!!!! I see a good amount of insecure reader posts, which are very good and comforting! But I would love to see more confident reader inserts. Thanks for reading, women in suits are amazing, and goodbye.

#female reader #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #fem!reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x female reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim #kalim al asim x reader #vil shoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #women in suits #twst x reader #twst dorm leaders #twst dorm heads #twisted wonderland #twst #twst headcanons #headcanons #fluff

[easy-there-leftovers]

I See You, Darling (4)

[Astarion x reader] A little longer than usual, I hope that’s fine for all of you :,DDD I didn't want to cram too much into the post though, so the segment at the end might be continued in full detail, or maybe not! Let's see.|Word count: 2.9k.|

Content Warnings: Mentions of cooking, handling knives, blood, allusions to sex, a few ooc characters, reader being a dumbass and wahtnot.

Part 3 here!!

Masterlist here!!

A party is being held at the camp in the heroes’ honor, which greets you with a lively crowd that you’ll hopefully meet again soon. And with a gathering this large, you’re bound to garner attention. But with a constitution as poor as yours from the night before, a round of drinks is the last thing you want. 

Alternatively: A bloodless human tries to balance respectfully participating in a drinking party, while also not drinking at all. 

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

The sun rises, the warmth of its rays gently waking you in the absence of the campfire’s flames. The soft chirping of the birds greet you a good morning as your eyes slowly open, ready to greet the day as a new opportunity arises.

Is what would have happened in a more idyllic scenario. Instead, you bolt awake with a pounding headache, worse than any hangover could possibly feel like, and quickly rush to get up. By the sheer brightness of the light that burns your newly opened corneas, it is far later than when you usually wake. And breakfast still hasn’t been made. 

“Well, good morning sleepy head.” One of your companions, Gale, says as he fixes his belongings. Readying himself for the skirmish that was about to take hold later on in the day.

“I’m very  sorry for waking up late. It won’t happen again.” You bow your head low for a moment before he waves you off.

“Oh come now, we all have our off days. Besides, I think the rest would agree with me when I say what you made for us last night was more than enough to last us ‘til morning.” His statement is punctuated by the lively sounds of the others training. Ready and well rested for whatever may come.

You look around. None have seemed to mind your temporary absence, so you endeavor to double check with everyone leaving and ensure that they had a sound strategy with the necessary materials and weapons should there be a need for failsafes. You remind them of certain notes that some of them have informed you about but failed to share with the rest of the group. 

‘While goblins typically go down faster than other opponents, they have no sense of honor nor pride which gives way for them the opportunity to use more underhanded tactics. But they also aren’t very bright, so you can convince the others to let them infiltrate the camp and eradicate them from the inside out.’

As the rest disperse, finalize their plans and check their supplies, your favorite character approaches you much like he usually does every morning. Only this time, you see that he looks very pleased. A more vibrant spark in his eyes as he opens his mouth to speak.

“Thank goodness you’ve finally woken up.” He looks at you, in the same way an old friend of yours would when they’re seconds away from telling a joke. 

The look fades soon enough though as he breathes out. You wonder if it’s because the joke isn't funny anymore, or if he never had a punchline to begin with.

“You looked a little ill last night, but you’ve certainly recovered.” Recovered isn’t the word you would use to describe your current state of feeling almost half dead, but you don’t bother correcting the details.

“And you look particularly vibrant today, Astarion.” The itch of your neck intensifies as you return a pointed look at him as he frowns.

“Oh, of course! Now, don’t be so upset. I will admit that I got a little carried away, I apologize.” He pauses. The frown remains on his face for a while before it is erased with his usual expression of confidence. 

“But let’s not fall out over this.” He moves to stand closer to you, taking your hand to his as he nears it to his lips as he continues. 

“We need each other.” 

And whether its done purposefully or not, you see his fangs peek out from his mouth and a shiver courses through your body.

You slip your hand out of his own in a panic and interject. 

“I know that much already, and I trust you not to let what happened last night happen again. I also apologize for not noticing sooner and dealing with the situation better.” You hold your head down a bit to apologize but quickly meet his gaze gain. “But I do need to know what we’ll have to feed you from now on.”

The look of confusion, and perhaps even shock that was once swimming in his eyes dissipates before you can notice them when he swears upon his resolve. “No innocents, you have my word. After all, you know what I am now. I can fight with all my weapons–” He grins, allowing you a clearer view than what you had earlier. “Teeth included.”

“And if I happen to drain the occasional bandit during a fight, what's the harm? They’re just as dead.” He makes a very compelling argument, at least to your standards.

You sigh, satisfied for now. You’re confident that none of your party members would end up at the mercy of his fangs, and you’re more than sure they would be able to overpower him more than your attempts did. But the same sentiment cannot be shared for possibly important, plot driving, characters that you might meet later on.

So you propose something to strengthen your trust that the unlikely will stay the unlikely.

“Look, I’m–” You breathe in, almost as if you're trying to suck back whatever courage washed over you back in as you steeled yourself for what you were about to say next.

“I’m not against you feeding from me, but!” You punctuate the last syllable as you see his grin growing wider. “We need to discuss things beforehand. No prowling over me while waiting for me to wake up or to sink your teeth into.”

The proposal greatly delights him, as is evident in his response. “Of course! That sounds eminently reasonable. I shall wait patiently until you suggest we… dine together. But until then: no more late-night surprises. You have my word on that.” 

After that, he makes a joke about feeling ‘peckish already,’ and quickly gathers the rest of the party to leave on their adventure.

You promise them a feast when they came back as the victors that they are. What you forgot, after what felt like weeks in the real world, was the crowd that would come filtering in to celebrate their heroes’ achievements as well.

————————————

When you saw the tieflings from the grove traveling alongside your companions, you knew they had come to celebrate. And you blanched at the thought of the provisions they’d be seeking to pair with their drinking. It’s been so long since you went through this event, and you no longer recall if they even ate anything during the party.

You look at your bubbling cauldron–– a bigger one as you had anticipated a few acquaintances accompanying them–– but you wager that at least a little extra things to nibble on won’t hurt to have. You still have quite the amount of camp supplies in the trunk, but you keep it reserved for the camp’s use only. So you smile at your returning comrades and alert the others that stayed behind for your reason to leave and that they can begin eating dinner. 

While others told you it wasn’t necessary, the rest just nodded with a smile and yelled that they’d wait for you to return. You return quite too quickly though, all the while informing them why you’re keeping the communal chest in your tent as you spy the child that tried to steal and swindle the group a few days prior approaching with the rest.

They have a laugh and you quickly proceed with your plan to find at least a few consumable berries and nuts or seeds to accompany the drinks later on. 

But foraging for said consumables near dark is a choice not for the faint-hearted. You came to realize this when you heard the low grumble of a large animal, thankfully far from your form. You turn to look behind you, taking great care to do so as slowly as possible so as to not alert the mysterious creature.

In the clearing, you spot a rather dark looking bear and you feel a cold sweat begin to form on your temple. Hands, growing wet in the dangerous situation you’ve placed yourself in. This wasn’t the same as being drained to death by a vampire, that, you could at least reason with. But a wild animal? With your lack of magical prowess and lesser knowledge of connecting with nature and the wild, you would be finished if it were to follow you.

The small pouch of nuts and wild berries stayed holstered on your waist, but the bear’s eyes that were previously low on the ground are now trained on you. Almost as if it were caught doing something it wasn’t supposed to be. 

You freeze. You forgot what the basic policy was around brown or black bears and therefore couldn’t do much about your current predicament. There shouldn’t be a bear around this area, not unless they had traveled from far away, or that this bear was one of your future companions.

And while the latter isn’t impossible, you most certainly did not want to gamble your life on a possibility. So you tried to compose yourself, returned the gaze of the bear with a shaky and careful nod, and turned back to return to camp. Figuring that the amount of tidbits you gathered would have to suffice.

 When you return, the company you shared seems to be in high spirits. Some more than others. But conversation was plentiful and you smiled as the tieflings cheered for your comrades. You quickly got to work and began to chop the nuts into thinner pieces. Something you learned to make the appearance of something look more abundant than it really is.

While you were chopping away unfortunately, you nick your finger along the way and silently curse. Unfortunate, but not an unforeseeable outcome given the booming drums of the bard that plays oh so nicely with your bloodless state. You quickly, but neatly, arrange the provisions on two small platters, and position them near the larger gatherings. 

“Flitting around like a hummingbird as always, I see.” A familiar, but not immediately recognizable voice greets you as you pass them. You turn and you see an unexpected acquaintance with a bottle in their hand and an incredibly charming grin.

“Dammon! How lucky of me to run into you.” You genuinely were elated to see him. You didn’t see much of him later on in the game, and being able to interact with him beyond the opportunities given to you was certainly nice.

“I could say the same. Though you’re as lively as you usually are.” There’s no malice in his tone, only an innocent observation, yet you feel embarrassed to have been seen scuttling about like a bug.

“I– promise I’m more organized. I just didn’t expect us to be having any guests.” He takes notice of how you push your fingers into your palms repetitively, a small action that soothes you.

“I think you’ve done more than a fine job already. The celebration is for you all, and it was us who planned to come and might’ve put your friends on the spot.” He later takes notice of the cut on your finger as well.

“Speaking of,” He gingerly grasps your hand, looking to you for permission, but you’re too confused to respond with anything he can understand. “Shouldn’t you be taking it easy for the night? You’ve done enough. And if what happened at the grove tells me anything about you, I’m sure they’ll survive even if you settle. Just for a bit.” 

He leads you nearer to the water and produces a small washcloth to clean a bit of your finger as you respond. “The grove? They did that on their own. I just um, take notes.” You sit on a fallen tree, your head still fuzzy, as you observe his crouched form. Inspecting the cut as he cleans it. 

A curious interaction. Not one that you’d expect from an non-romanceable NPC, but an interesting one nonetheless. And it would seem that someone had found it equally as interesting, if the way he scrutinizes you had anything to do about it.

He chuckles in turn. “If modesty is how you like to live, then I won’t impose.” He smiles and gets up as you continue your conversation. You don’t recall if the tiefling has ever had this much screen time, but his voice is rather lovely so you don’t complain about it.

You end up discussing quite a bit, but you focus on what can be done about your party. Specifically Karlach as you worry for the future and you’d like to have answers for her when he isn’t around during your journey. He doesn’t have much idea of what else can be done, but he does mention that he should have something by the time you meet him again in Baldur’s Gate.

You do remember that you might meet him a lot sooner, but you don’t mention it explicitly. You do, however, advise him to be extra careful around the oxen as they can be rather unpredictable this time of year.

As you continue, you notice his eyes flit up every now and then. Like something was catching his attention ever so often. You ask him about it and he actually laughs at your genuine inquiry. “It looks like I was wrong. Your friend there looks like he’d like his turn for your company.”

You turn around and you don’t immediately eye anyone looking in your direction. You were never the subtle type, so you looked around, blatantly searching for someone. It was a bit odd to see.

Your eyes do eventually train on his, but he doesn’t necessarily look like he wants to talk to you. Sure, he’s scowling away, though that’s not out of the ordinary at all. Besides, he has a bottle of something that you hope is helping him relax.

Still, perhaps Dammon saw something you didn’t so you politely thank him for his company and excuse yourself.

You greet the others that regard you as you walk past them. Declining the offers to drink and excusing yourself politely when you were asked to stay a bit. 

As you approach him, a tiefling tries to strike up a conversation with him. With a bored look, he dismisses them and turns to look at you. He takes a sip, sneers, and begins his rant now that you’re situated in front of him.

“I hate it. This is awful.” 

“The…wine?” He looks at you as if he should be mad, but a hint of amusement surfaces past the expression anyway. 

“There’s that, but I’m talking about the tieflings. We killed some goblins to save the others. The tally of lives didn’t change much. But what do I get for my hard work? A pat on the head, and vinegar for wine.” He looks down the neck of the bottle, swirling its contents before handing it out for you to take.

You look at the bottle, then him, warily. Modern alcohol is already a wonder to you, and this medieval mead could only do so much worse. Still, you take the bottle, and take a very small sip.

It’s a heavy, rich, red. Dry and sharp. You make a small sound of shock as you keep the liquid in your mouth. Offering him an awkward smile and a nod as you do.

“Ugh, see what I mean? Awful.” 

“All I want is a little fun. Is that so much to ask?” You would think that after an entire day of fighting whatever was out there he’d be tired. Apparently not. 

You sigh, ready to reprimand him and that he should just enjoy the night, but you stop when you feel his unburdened hand reach out to you. Eyes, boring into your own as he propositions you.

You’re here. Face in the grasp of a character you’ve longed to romance with what little time you’ve had away from your scholarly pursuits. Yet meeting him in strange, yet not all too unfamiliar, territory stirs uncertainty within you. Because while he doesn't have a knife at your throat like he did when your character first met him, it certainly does evoke the same sentiment.

‘To, “make me his”, is that right?’ While the idea is tempting, that statement alone can have various interpretations. And you didn’t want to hedge your bets on the one that made your heart race for all the wrong reasons.

Thankfully, he releases his hold on your visage. Only the gods know how much his touch alone can influence you, and you struggle to stand upright.

“I’m– very,-- truly, sorry, but don’t you think you have the wrong person? I mean,” You gesture to yourself with both hands, a cut visible from the labor in the few hours prior to the large festivities going on.. “Uh…in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly in a position to make any um, lucrative offers.” 

 He looks at you, a familiar expression graces his face. He leans his weight on one leg, and you struggle to recognize what his body language is conveying. This is one of those instances you wished you had the dice roll mechanic of the game at your disposal. 

“Why, that hardly matters, darling. What matters is that you’re here.” He takes a sip from his bottle, the very same that he allowed you to partake from moments prior. Only this time, without the sneer at the aftertaste as he continues.

“But then again, what’s a sinner to do when faced with the very embodiment of chastity?” A smile graces his face, but it’s one that is all too perfect. As if he’s rehearsed the same song and dance enough to save him lifetimes.

“Let’s wait until things quieten down. Once the others are asleep we’ll find each other.” 

You have no idea what to expect. Well, you do, but you’re not very sure if this is necessary. You’ll just have to find a way to continue the story without having to go through with this. For now, at least. 

“We’ll see about that, Astarion.” 

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Thank you to @rey26, @shyminnie07, @lynnloveshobi, @iggee-rose, @automnepoet, @tiannamortis, @aoirohi, @sarkara211, @jane-3043, @h3110-dar1in9, @h3ll0k1ttyl0ver333, @mimziethealien, @squichymochi, @sharabay, @furblrwurblr, @dork-of-the-universe, @thedevilssinner, @fuckalrighty, @queenofthespacesquids, @perseny, @goldenplutus, @h4nluv, @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer, @auszimbo, @maruichio, @iamsexytrash, @craig-mywifeisdead-boone, @grimissleepy, @fandomsfanman, @bitchyzombienacho, @r1kk, @ancuninstar, @izuoyarmin, @gracemisconduct, @kiinokochii, @marina-and-the-memes, and @life-is-hard-m8 for asking to be tagged!!

#astarion ancunin x reader #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #astarion x mc #aware!astarion #baldur's gate 3 x reader #astarion x you #bg3 x reader #bg3 x reader isekai(?) #possibly also a Dammon x reader? #slight!! #Slight Dammon x reader

[kingtomura]

Deja Vu | 2 | The Girl Who Cried Wolf

summary: Your best friend died years ago. He went up in flames until there was nothing left — so why does it feel like you can still see him sometimes? content: touya todoroki x female reader, childhood friends au, reader has a quirk, time skipping, flashbacks, fluff, heavy angst, soft touya, hurt/comfort, tragedy, virginity loss, vaginal fingering, piv, smut with feelings, mdni wc: 9.2k | Prev | Chapter 3 | m. list | read on ao3

You’ve never been good at hide-and-seek. 

“Touya,” you yell into the crisp air of the forest, “this isn’t funny!” You’ve been at this for what feels like forever and it’s just not working. 

You can’t find him. 

The wind was chilling you to the bone and it was almost dinner time. This was becoming more and more pointless as the minutes ticked by. You just wanted to find him so you both could go eat. 

“Okay, well if you’re not gonna come out then I don’t wanna play anymore!” You shout, fully ready to turn tail and get out of there. 

You hear a groan from the bushes and Touya emerges, his hair now white on one side and red on the other. 

“You’re no fun.” He chides. “What are you gonna do when you have to find a villain?”

“I’ll find them, of course! But not on an empty stomach.” You huff, just glad that he’s stopped messing around and you can both head back now. 

You are both six years old and Touya’s passion for becoming the number one hero burns brighter each passing day. You can only imagine what the coming years will be like.

Touya stood up fully, brushing the residual snow from his pants, forever unbothered by the cold. “Right… whatever you say.” 

In that moment your stomach growls and Touya raises a brow.

Frustration makes itself known again as you stomp your foot in the white snow, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “We were at this for so long! I’m tired. And cold.”

“You’re always cold.” He muses, walking towards you and taking your hand. 

You shrug, ducking your nose into your scarf to avoid being called Rudolph again, as Touya loves to do. Instead, you try to focus on the warmth of his hand in yours. “And you’re always warm.”

Touya hums, leading you both back to his home that was nearby. His mother promised to make Udon tonight and it was all you could think about. 

“You know, you haven't said much about your new baby brother.” You start, tilting your head to get a better look at him, he always seemed more tense when going towards the home.

His tense features smooth out at the mention of his new sibling, brows softening and a smile sliding onto his face. “Oh, yeah. Well he doesn’t do much yet. He can’t talk or anything. He’s trying, but he’s kind of a potato.”

The comment makes you laugh, and you watch as fresh, new snowflakes make their way down from the sky, landing in Touya’s hair and your jacket. It’s at this moment you decide that winter is your favorite season. 

The way Touya squeezes your hand brings you back to the present, the warmth making your heart dance. “But, I can't wait until he does talk. I bet he’ll be pretty cool.”

“Yeah, I think so, too.” You agree, “But you have to make sure you set a good example for him. Or else he’ll be the cool brother, you know.”

Touya scoffs, brows furrowing in irritation that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I know that! I’m always cool…”

You mutter a soft sure as your best friend’s home comes into view. 

Udon was so close, you could almost taste it. 

“Race you there!” Touya shouts, dropping your hand and taking off, effectively leaving you in the dust.

“Hey!” You try to catch up, but the headstart he had over you was too great, and you end up last — much to your dismay. Touya was already inside and kicking his shoes off by the time you made it in. “You cheated!”

The boy only shrugs, removing his coat and putting it away, “If you wanna be a hero you have to always be alert, that’s what dad says anyway.”

You follow suit, kicking off your shoes and jacket, and running to greet his mother. It was perfect timing, you noted, as Rei had only just begun placing piping hot bowls of Udon down at the table for all of you. 

“Hi, Fuyumi!” You greet watching her emerge from further into the home. She returns with a wave, taking her place at the table. 

There was no time to waste as you dig into the soup, enjoying the way it warmed your insides from the cool air outside.

“And where have you two been all day?” Rei questions, tone neutral and patient. It’s at this moment you notice the overheated head of the household was not present for dinner. It's something you cannot say that you mind, given how tense the air is when the man does come around. 

“We were out playing hide and seek.” Touya supplied through a mouthful of noodles.

Rei looks skeptical, resting her chin on her hand as she watched her son. “Just playing hide and seek, Touya? No extra training?” 

The boy stops, watching his mother before taking a sip of his water, “Maybe a little bit of training…”

“Touya.”

“What?” He asks, growing aggravated at the woman's pestering. You could only watch as the interaction went on, trying to enjoy your Udon as best you could. 

“I told you not to push yourself today. It’s already hard enough to get your father to give you an off day, at least enjoy it by not overdoing it.”

“I wasn’t overdoing it! It’s fine, okay?” His frustration is growing and you begin to shift in your seat, unsettled by the conversation. It wasn’t the first time Rei had scolded Touya about quirk training, but it always ended the same — no progress on the topic being made. 

Rei sighs, the stresses of her day to day beginning to catch up with her. “I just don’t want you to overdo it. I want you to enjoy being a child too, Touya. Just have fun sometimes.”

“But I do have fun — all the time!” 

She’s tired, you can tell by the bags lining her eyes and the unkept status of her hair. Your mom looks like this too, on the days her job runs over and she has to come home late. Maybe all moms look this way, you ponder as you down the rest of your soup. 

“Listen, I know you want to get stronger, but you’ve been turning up hurt more often than not. At least hold off until the doctor's appointment.” 

You watch as Touyas brows scrunch and his lips turn down in a frown. You know that look very well. He's upset. “What? That’s dumb! I won’t be the best if I let a few burns stop me.”

“Touya…” Rei looks like Touya, you realize in this moment, a near carbon copy of her son the way her features mirror his own. “It’s just for a little while, okay? Not forever.”

He scoffs, done with the conversation and Rei only looks on. “Whatever.”

That’s the end of the conversation, sending dinner into a deep silence with tension crowding the air. 

By the end of dinner, you are more than ready to head to bed, quick to finish your nightly duties and prepare for bed. 

You try to bite back a yawn as you slide the door to the bedroom open, it is futile and you feel the tears pull at the corners of your eyes — signaling that it was time for bed. 

Touya was already clad in his pajamas and currently rolling out the extra futon for you to sleep on. It was a soft white and blue and you wasted no time getting under the blankets.

“Hey, don’t go to sleep yet.” Your best friend whined, arms crossed and judging stare watching you make yourself comfortable. 

You sit up, meeting his eyes with a raised brow. “‘M not. Just getting comfy.” 

“Yeah, sure.” He stops, dropping his eyes to his lap, lost in thought. “Do you think she was right?”

“Hm? Who?”

Touya sucks his teeth, eye roll not directed at you, but his frustration. “My mom. When she said that I train too much.”

“Oh,” you didn’t think so. You were sure how much Touya trained with his father, but you knew it was never anything extensive when it was only you two together. There was no way that was considered too much. “No, I don't think you do.”

He smiles, and you feel like you’ve made the right call. “Good! I just want to be strong. I don’t see why she doesn’t get that. She says I'll end up hurting myself. But when I get burned it’s only a little bit.”

“Yeah, when I use my quirk too much my head will start to hurt really bad and my nose bleeds a little, but it goes away after a while.” You bring a hand to your nose, thankful there was no metallic smell lingering from the last time you used your quirk. 

“The burns go away too! I knew you would understand.” He smiles, and then focuses on you, tone serious. “Hey, let's make a promise, then.” 

This piques your interest. “What kind of promise?”

“That we’ll both keep trying to get strong. We can look after each other so we won't push too hard. Promise?” He holds out his fist with his pinky extended. His eyes are vivid within the dark room, the cerulean blue filled with a boyish determination that makes your mind rush and your heart flutter. 

It's so quiet, the hushed whispers between you two make this feel more like a secret than a promise, and maybe in some ways it is. A secret that binds you both to each other, one that is in its own a safety net and a comfort when you need it most. 

You reach back, interlocking his pinky with yours. “I promise.”

He brings it forward, pulling you towards him just a little. Touya kisses the exposed part of your pinky, and you bring his closer to do the same.

The deal was sealed. Promise made.

The sound of footsteps pulled you both from your steely gaze and towards the door. Touya's eyes widened, knowing you both were not supposed to be awake at this hour. You lock eyes and both duck down, covering yourselves with the blankets and feigning sleep.

It was just in time as the door to the room slid open, a wandering Rei glancing around the now still room. She stood there for a moment — muttering about how she could have sworn she heard voices — before turning to leave, door sliding shut and footsteps trailing back to her side of the home. 

Both you and Touya tried as best you could to keep your snickers and laughs down, even going as far as slapping a hand over his mouth and yours to silence the noises. Only once there were no more sounds of footsteps did you release your hold on him, bringing an index finger to your mouth to shush him further. 

“Okay,” Touya whispered into the quiet of the room, his voice carrying despite the honest effort to be silent, “we have to go to bed, for real this time.”

“Yeah.” You nod, trying your best to bite back a smile. You were sure the both of you were the only two people awake in the world right now. No one else but you, him in the pale moonlight — with the stars tagging along, sneaking into the space and lighting up the dim room, eavesdropping on your hushed laughs and promises. 

“Goodnight,” he breathes, no more than a whisper.

“Goodnight, Touya.”

—--------------------

You wake with a start, body sitting straight up in bed as your chest heaved. Your eyes darted left and right but all you could see was the familiar posters along the walls of your bedroom. 

Your bedroom?

“Oh, I see you’re awake.” 

Your head snaps to the voice, honey sweet and always familiar. Your mother stood at your door, leaning against the dark wood of the doorframe and giving you a look that made a pit form in your stomach. You clench the cotton of your bed's comforter, the fabric anchoring you to the room.

“You’ve been out for a while.” She continues when she realizes you won’t speak. And what could you say? That you chased your dead best friend in the forest and overused your quirk to catch him? It sounds ridiculous. 

So, you bring the words to your mouth and try to give her a response. Even if it’s a small, insignificant one. 

“Have I?” The words feel dry and heavy on your tongue, like you haven’t spoken in days. Maybe you haven’t. 

Your mother nods, taking your response as consent to come further into your room. Her steps are soft, as if any loud noise would scare you off or make you shut down. It’s hard to look away from her worried gaze, so you don’t. 

You watch as she makes her way over, sitting down on your bed and the look she gives you makes your chest ache.

The somber aura in her eyes brings you no comfort.

“What were you doing out there?” She skips to the point, not wasting another minute. It’s like the question has been running through her head for a while now. 

Your eyes fall to your fists clutching the bedsheets. 

What could you say?

“I…” You swallow, the worst she could do was not believe you. “I saw something in the forest.”

Your mother shifts on the bed, turning to look at you head on. “What did you see?”

There was no way she wouldn’t think you were crazy, but you had to try. 

“Touya. I swear I saw him.” Your eyes meet hers and you wished they hadn’t. The look of sorrow is now replaced with something much worse. Pity. 

“Sweetie…” 

You inhale, tears blurring your vision and you knew this would happen. “Don’t! It was him — I know it was.” 

“I'm not saying it wasn’t.” She defends, bringing a hand up in surrender. “I’m just worried about you. You know what the doctors told you about your quirk.”

The quirk. You didn’t even think about that. 

Too caught up in the possibility of seeing Touya again. 

Your mother sighs, “You’ve been out for three days. Three. You can’t blame me for being worried about you — or upset.”

And you don’t. 

Three days is a long time. You reach a hand up, taking note of the bandages wrapped around your head. You’re not even sure how you ended up back in your room. 

“Just… Remember what the doctors said.” And you do remember! But it was an emergency. One that you couldn’t risk letting pass you by. She speaks again, her voice stern. “I don’t want to lose you.”

You sit there in silence, taking her words in. The heavy tears on your lower lids fall, dampening the blanket in droplets. 

“It’s around that time of year again, I know. I’m so sorry you’re going through this. As a mother I wish I could protect you from this kind of hurt.” She stops, voice wavering as her own eyes grew glossy. “But it’s also why I can’t risk losing you either.”

You want to say something, anything to make her stop. It’s not the same. 

“I don’t doubt that you saw something, but I want you to understand that it was late at night, and you’re still grieving.” 

Your jaw is starting to ache from how hard you’re clenching your teeth — fury below the surface of your frustration. 

Of course she doesn’t believe you. 

Why would you be foolish enough to think she would? 

She sighs, the lecture coming to an end. “Don’t destroy yourself for this, okay?” Your mother reaches out and covers your exposed hand with her own. It takes everything in you not to snatch it away. 

“Promise me, please.”

You meet her eyes, the sorrow swimming in them makes you feel like you’re drowning, so you do the only thing you can think of — you nod, and agree. 

“I promise.” 

And you do. It won’t destroy you to find out the truth. You’ll be okay and intact. No promises will be broken, not again. 

You go out to the forest that night. Even though your head is still wrapped in bandages and you get dizzy if you turn your head a little too fast — you still go. You have to.

It’s eating you up and you have to be sure you weren't hallucinating. 

Your mother has been keeping a close eye on you. She’s so worried, not only about your physical health but your mental health as well. And you don’t blame her. To have her only daughter fall out in the forest and wake up claiming to see her dead best friend? It’s worrisome, but you know better.

You wave the flashlight in your hand, backtracking your steps in the forest. 

It's fruitless, due to the fresh fallen snow and lack of footprints. But that doesn’t deter you. You know he was here, he had to be.

After what felt like an hour of a search, you decide to turn back, knowing there would be no point as the snowfall increased. It would eventually make things harder to see and you would rather not get stuck in a snowstorm. 

Fuyumi won’t say it out loud but she is worried about you. 

She’s worried you have finally gone off the deep end and you are too far gone to be brought back to shore. 

“Fuyumi, I know what I saw. It was him — I swear!” You pleaded, knowing how you must sound.

She knows how much you love Touya, and how devastated you were, but what she doesn’t understand is what you mean when you say you saw him. 

Her eyes were filled with sadness and …pity. The same pity that’s been haunting you for days now. “I believe you saw something. I don’t want to shut you down, it’s just… I know how your quirk is. I know what happens if you overuse it. It could have been in your mind right before you went out.” 

You scoff in shock, eyes wide and disbelieving of what you’re hearing. Of all people you thought Fuyumi would understand, or at least hear you out. 

She doesn't understand. She wouldn’t understand. 

You shake your head, eyes downcast as you fight the familiar burn of tears in your eyes, muttering under your breath, “I know what I saw.” 

Those were his eyes. It was his nose and his hair. It was Touya. 

This doesn’t stop her from trying to comfort you, bringing that familiar hand to your shoulder and giving it a squeeze. What would usually feel like a comfort is now a vice, suffocating you as you drown is the reality around you.

No one will believe a word you say.

“Maybe,” she starts, words careful and gentle, knowing you were as fragile as glass, ready to shatter at any sudden movement. “Maybe Touya is watching over you in some way. Like a guardian angel.”

The warm tears fall now, unable to be held back by your crumbling will. 

“I know how hard it is, really, I do. But I want you to know that you’re not alone, okay?” You can feel Fuyumi’s gaze on you, silently pleading for you to look up, look at her, but you won't. You can’t. You know what you saw and it doesn’t matter if anyone believes you. 

You would never stop looking for Touya. 

Fuyumi lets you go and it feels like you can breathe again. She has become such a good friend over the years, second best to Touya, but it’s not the same. 

You go to stand, having had enough of crying for one week and she stops you. 

“Wait, I don’t want you to go! At least stay for dinner with us. Does your mom work late tonight?”

You nod, she usually does on Fridays. 

“Then it’s settled. Stay over, let's watch movies or something.” She falters, eyes to the floor as she bites her bottom lip, “I don’t want to be alone, either.”

Something in your heart tugs and you agree, moving to join her once more in the living room. 

Fuyumi may not understand, but she was still your close friend. “Okay, but I get to choose the movie, though.”

And she smiles.

For now, you would be okay. 

—----------------------

“It’s so stupid!” 

There’s a flash of fire and a tree goes up in flames. Touya is upset. 

“It’s just not fair.”

“I know…” You drag, hating when he got this way. “But it’s what they told me.” 

“That means we can’t be heroes together anymore!”

The wave of sadness you feel makes your head hurt and eyes water. “I know… I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, they told me I had to stop training, too. Dad said he wouldn’t do it anymore because I hurt myself. You know what I say to that? Who cares! We can be strong if we want to. It's not fair.”

You know it’s not fair.

You are seven years old when the doctors tell you that you cannot continue to use your quirk. 

Telekinesis is not only rare, but it is dangerous. Not just to you, but to others around you. The doctors were very clear about what would happen if you lost control or if you overexerted yourself. 

The consequences could be devastating. 

But quirks are such an important part of one’s life and for them to tell you to just not use them? It’s unheard of. 

It also doesn’t help that Touya has another sibling on the way. One that his father is eerily excited about. 

“Do you remember our promise?” He asks, pulling you from your thoughts. 

You nod, knowing the promise is something you could never forget. 

“Well, I think it's more important than ever now. If they dont want us to do it, then we just shouldn’t tell them.” There is a determined purpose in his voice as he turns to face you, committed eyes meeting yours.

“I don’t know, Touya. That sounds like lying.”

“It’s not if you don’t say anything.” He insists, tone even. 

Your gaze falls to the ground, watching as the wind blows the leaves along the snow. It’s like their own secret dance. Your promise is beginning to feel more like a secret dance as well.

“Look,” Touya starts, walking towards you and capturing your attention once more, “I swear, if anything happens, I’ll just say I did it.” 

You shake your head, brows furrowed in confusion and fists clenched, “No! Then you would get in trouble, and what if we can’t hang out anymore? We can be in this together, Touya.” 

He smiles, soft and sweet. Your dedication relaxes him more than he thought it would. 

His warm hands are on your face again, warming your cheeks and the butterflies that have been living in your stomach go wild again. You absently wonder if you should tell your mother about it. 

“Your nose is all red again, Rudolph.” He says before bringing you closer and brushing his nose against yours.

You were sure if your face got any warmer you would probably explode. 

Touya carries on, walking away from you and further into the forest. You trail behind, even though you knew this part of it well, you still didn’t want to run the risk of getting lost. 

“Where are we going?” Your voice carries in this part of the woods, and it sounds more like a shout. 

“I found this cool spot the other day! Let me show you.”

Confident as always, Touya trails through and you speed up to chase him. 

Now you're sure your face is red, but he doesn't mention it again. 

“It’s down here.” Touya points and there’s a drop to get to the area. 

It only takes a jump and he lands on his feet — he makes it look so easy, but you know he’s probably gotten a lot of practice and put himself in positions more dangerous than this. 

There’s that doubt in the forefront of your mind again, the fear that makes you hesitate. “I don’t like heights, Touya.” 

“It’s okay! C’mon, I’ll catch you. It’s just a little further.” He’s reassuring as he holds out his arms. 

Always fearless Touya. 

You trust him, and it’s all you can think as you close your eyes and give yourself a little running start and then jump. 

There’s a ringing in your ears again and you don’t feel his arms right away, instead you feel light. As light as a feather as you drift down to the ground. 

The lack of impact makes the fear ebb away as you open your eyes. There’s Touya, arms out and waiting as he watches you with widened eyes filled with wonder. 

You’ve somehow activated your quirk and slowed your own fall. You absently think that it almost feels kind of fun, the way you softly land in Touya’s waiting arms. 

“Whoa,” he starts, eyes never leaving yours. “You looked like an angel or something.”

You don’t know why, but the comparison makes your cheeks flush as you fight for a way to respond. 

Nothing comes to mind and you only bite down a smile. You’ve never tried something like that before with your quirk and the excitement makes your fear fade away. 

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Me either,” you shrug. It’s new to you too, and you weren’t against trying it again. 

“Well, c'mon, let’s go before it gets dark.” And he’s taking off, pulling you along with him by the hand. The wind is chilly but it doesn’t completely cool you. Touya keeps you warm, from the outside by his hand and from the inside with his words. Maybe there was more to his fire quirk than you thought. 

“Don’t run so fast, Touya!”

He laughs, but slows down for you, looking back and flashing a smile, “Whatever you say, angel.” 

—-------------

It’s the end of March and spring is on the way. 

The snow melting, the rain clouds are rolling their way in, readying to greet April and bring life to the incoming May flowers, and your mother—

“We need them by tonight!” She yells through the phone and it’s enough to make you hold the device far away from your ear. 

“I heard you the first time, mom.” You sigh, looking around again for the small shop and making your way towards it. “I’ll have all the stuff by then. The party will be fine, I promise.” 

Tonight is your father’s big homecoming day from overseas. He’s been working away from home for eight months now and your mother has decided to throw him a welcome home party at the last minute. He will be here by tonight and so will the guests — if you finish in time everything will go according to plan. 

“I just want everything to be perfect.” Her voice presses and you hum in response. You know how she wants things to be, but your father isn’t picky. He’s the most easy going man you know and if there’s a hiccup here and there, well, you’re sure he won't mind. 

“Okay, mom.” You start, grabbing your items and making your way to the checkout line. “I’m about to check out now, so I’ll let you know when I'm on the way home.”

She sighs on the other end, but lets you go, not before fully explaining why she needs the banners and streamers in a certain color and you cut her off, hanging up and checking out. 

It's been a few months since the incident in the forest and you’ve given up trying to make anyone see your point of view. They all thought you were hallucinating, but you knew better. You saw Touya. There was nothing they could say or do to make you think otherwise. 

You heave a sigh and continue your walk through the town thinking of the countless decorations you will undoubtedly have to help your mother hang for the night. It gives you something to do, but god, last minute events were not your favorite. 

There aren’t as many people out and about this time of day and you're thankful. It’s almost peaceful, the way you can weave through the sparse crowd and get lost in your own thoughts. 

Until you see it.

It makes you stop in your tracks, heart beating so loud in your chest you could feel it pulsing in your ears. 

White hair and blue eyes.

You take a few hurried steps to the alley you know you saw the figure go into. 

He was wearing an oversized black hoodie with the hood pulled up, but you knew the moment he turned and his eyes met yours. Touya. 

Without a second thought you dropped the bags you were holding and ran after him. He was halfway through the window of an abandoned building when you made down the alley, but was swift as he jumped through it. There was no doubt Touya was fast, but you wouldn’t let him get away. Not this time. 

You follow him, jumping through the same window and chasing as he maneuvers through the dusty dilapidated building. It’s hard to catch your breath and you are sure you’re running on pure adrenaline now, but none of that matters. 

All that matters now is that you aren’t crazy. It was broad daylight when you locked eyes. You know Touya is alive.

“Touya, wait!” You barely register the tears running down your face as you run, but you dont care to wipe them away. Why would he run from you? Why would he hide from you? There are so many questions that you need answered. “Stop!” 

He takes a left turn and you follow, before seeing him dip right and it’s getting harder and harder to keep up. After the last incident you refuse to use your quirk. Not unless you wanted to ruin your chances and pass out again. 

At one point you lose him completely, but there is no outlet in the dusty room you’ve cornered him in. He has to be hiding somewhere. 

“Touya, please! If that’s you,” you yell out, voice hoarse from emotion, “please, come back. Talk to me.” You’re looking around the dark room, walking further in and searching for something, anything that shows his presence. 

You make the mistake of having your back to the door, the only exit in the room and Touya darts out, passing you and making it back into the main part of the building. 

You curse before hurrying behind him, but it was too late. All you could see was him hopping the window and landing on his feet below. It was too high for you to follow so you only grip the window pane, tears of frustration running down your cheeks as you watched him run.

“What about our promise?” You yell, wondering if your words could reach him.

There’s a sick feeling forming in your gut and you try to pull yourself together — wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt and the sobs shook your body. You had a party to prepare for and you couldn’t keep playing this game of back and forth.

Your mother gives you an earful when you arrive home much later than you were supposed to, but she was so focused on getting your father’s welcome home party together that she let you off the hook easily.

As long as you helped her hang the decorations. 

There is a tense air around the both of you and you know your mother is hesitating asking. You aren't sure if it’s to save you the trouble of a pointless conversation or if she is just tired of hearing about it. 

You decide not to tell her of your latest meeting. Brushing off any odd stares and worried glances with excuses of being tired. It was not wise to tell anyone what you saw. They would only think of you as the girl who cried wolf.

When your father made it home you knew he could tell something was off with you by just one look alone. 

He participated in the socializing and games until the crowd died down and people began to leave. You had called it a night long ago and made your way to your room, headphones on and catching up on homework. 

There was a knock loud enough to hear through the headphones, making you remove one and causing you to turn and see your father standing at the door. 

“Yes?” You ask, unsure what he could want at this hour.

He gives you a small smile, one as gentle and kind as you've always known him to be, and asks to come in — taking a seat on your bed while you close the book at your desk.

“I wanted to talk.” He started, watching as you removed the headphones from your head completely and gave him your undivided attention, sure that this would be about what’s been going on lately. 

“Have you started looking for colleges?”

The question surprises you, and you shake your head. You should start looking soon, since you turn seventeen soon and only have one year left, but it hasn’t been your main priority. “No, I haven’t.”

He only smiles, eyes crinkling shut as he waves off your worried expression, “It’s fine! I actually had an alternative for you. It’s something I've been looking into during the business trip.”

Your interest is officially piqued as you urge him to continue. 

“Well, I’m sure you know this, but you have a pretty rare quirk.” He starts, tone leveled, “I’ve been working on research studies and there’s somewhere I found that would love to have you intern and learn more about it.”

You tilt your head. “You want me to be a guinea pig?”

“No!” Your father laughs, already knowing how it would sound. “No, not that at all. I want to understand your quirk better, and for you to understand it better. I think it would be good for you. A chance to grow.”

To grow. You narrow your eyes at the words, starting to understand what he was getting at. “So you’ve heard.”

“I did. And before you get upset — I believe you. I will always believe you, and that's why I want you to do this." His words make your eyes widen and he continues. “It’s in a small town a little further away, but the internship comes with your own apartment and a stipend for food. Your mother and I will still support you, of course...”

You hold a hand up to stop him, “wait, how far away is the town?”

Your father rubs the back of his neck, an anxious habit he’s had as long as you could remember. “About four hours from here.”

“Four hours?” Your voice is louder than you meant for it to be but you can't help it, standing to your feet in disbelief. 

“It’s such a good opportunity for you, honey. This town… has too many memories. It’ll help you grow. At least tell me you’ll consider it?”

It feels like hours before you speak again, the stunned feeling hijacking your body. But you do respond, you owe him that much. 

“Alright, I’ll think about it.” You give, taking your seat at your desk again. It feels like your mind is swimming, but you had to at least mull it over. 

“Thank you,” your father stands and hugs you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before exiting your room. “I promise it won't be so bad. Goodnight, honey, I love you.”

You only nod in response. Maybe getting away would be good for you. 

The first day you find a gift it is raining outside.

You stumble up to your front doorstep, closing your umbrella and shaking off the excess water.  

“What the…” You reach down to pick up the little box, and turn it over to examine it. Maybe your mother got something delivered. 

The thought follows you into the home as you pull off your raincoat and rainboots, making your way to the kitchen where your mother had started on dinner.

“Oh, welcome home.” She greets, stirring the pot of soup and eyeing the box in your hand. “What do you have there?”

Your brows furrow as you take a seat at the table. “I thought you would know. It’s not for you?”

“Nope.” 

The response only makes your brows furrow more as you search for maybe a name or any indication that it was delivered to the wrong place. 

“You should open it.” Your mother pipes up and you shrug, ripping the paper and opening the box. 

You drop the box the moment you see the item. 

There was no way.

“What? What's the matter?” Your mother questions, her eyes filled with worry as she reaches for the box.

You snatch it away from her and dart off to your room, supplying her with an excuse about how you don’t feel well before locking yourself in your bedroom. 

The box held a golden locket inside of it. It was in the shape of a heart and you were terrified to open it and see what lay inside of it. You decide that the suspense would be too much and open it anyway — the photo makes your breath hitch.

It was you and Touya. 

You, with your bright eyes and happy smile and Touya, half white and half red hair looking at you as you hug him, cheeks pressed together. 

There was no denying it now. Touya was alive and he was hiding from you. 

Maybe he’s watching over you — like a guardian angel. Fuyumi’s voice rang in your head as you fought the tears blurring your vision. 

Why would he send you this and not talk to you?

All of it made your head spin as you thought of the countless reasons and possibilities. You didn't bother to wipe the tears from your eyes as they rolled down your cheeks. Only opting to lay down in your bed, holding the locket close to your chest as you stared at the ceiling above. 

It made no sense. Touya could trust you, so why would he hide from you?

Unless he didn’t want to be found.

The next gifts come in different forms and sizes, ranging from your favorite snack to cute cards. 

Always something small but never with a note or handwriting. It was almost like he truly didn’t want to be found. 

And maybe he didn’t. 

It’s scary at first, receiving random gifts and items from someone who might as well be a ghost, but as the months went on you grew used to it and even began to expect it at some point. 

Now you knew you could rest easy knowing that Touya was alive and maybe, just maybe he was waiting on the right moment to come out. You would trust him.

It also doesn’t take long for you to come to a decision with your fathers offer. 

It’s an amazing opportunity and you should take advantage of that while you can. You tell him as much and you could feel his excitement through the phone call. He was away on business again, but he would handle most of the heavy lifting, all you had to do was apply and wait on your offer once you graduate. 

There was just one thing you had to do before you left. 

—--------------------

You are eighteen years old when you leave Musutafu.

By this time you couldn’t take it anymore. Either Touya had gotten better at hiding or he knew you would be leaving soon, but there was nothing else from him — and there hadn’t been for months. At this point it felt like glimpses of the past haunting you. Every part of the city reminded you of him and of your childhood together. 

Fuyumi was upset to see you go, but she understood. 

You still believed, deep down, she thought you were losing your mind. 

You needed this though – needed a getaway. The ghost of Touya was holding you down, holding you back. 

Even though the gifts stopped coming months ago. 

She is kind as she hugs you and waves you off, knowing that one main reason for your company in her home was to visit Touya’s shrine. She does not stop you, does not ask questions — not after the time she mentioned how you didn’t bring him up as often. 

There was no need to. You only told her that you’ve moved past that and you knew Touya was watching over you, a small smile on your face as you touched the locket dangling from your neck. Fuyumi didn’t bring the topic up again.

Today is the day you leave. You had waited and waited for any sign of Touya again, but there was nothing. So you took matters into your own hands, making a little bag of gifts and a card that held the new updates to your life and address.

It was a long shot, but it was a chance you had to take.

Once you finished, it didn't take long to make your way back home, gathering your things as your parents insisted on driving you to the train stop. With your mother buzzing around you like a bee, making sure everything was perfect before you went off on your own. 

The idea of new beginnings had begun to feel a little more welcomed.

Your new apartment is small. 

It is small and cozy and just enough for you. It’s a comfortable one bedroom place and you can only imagine all the ways you will decorate the space. 

The town is also cozy and quaint – one that is reminiscent of old fairy tales, but a lot less magical. You can't help but sigh at the mundane routine you’ve fallen into since you’ve arrived. A nice walk from your apartment to the research lab, and from the research lab to your home. Since it’s summer there aren't many researchers on campus, so you have more than enough time to explore the parks and stores. 

One week turns into two and then two weeks turn into a month. You’ve gotten used to the small town and the people that live there. It's become relaxing and the new routine has eased your nerves. Maybe your father was right about needing a change.

But no matter what you do, you cannot stop thinking about Touya. 

The thought of leaving him is heavy, but when you touch your locket, you know it is for the best.

Everything changes on a Thursday night. 

It’s a normal night, one where there is no need to go to the lab, so you hang around in the apartment — setting up cozy lights and posters from home. It’s beginning to come together more and more everyday, and you decided to end it all with a simple and easy meal. One that you could mindlessly eat while watching a movie. 

It's a foolproof plan, really. 

You’re stirring the pot of noodles, humming a tune when you hear the knocks at your door. It is dark outside, and you haven’t made enough friends to warrant visitors, so the idea of a guest at this hour sends alarms ringing in your mind.

You grip the wooden spoon tight as you take cautious steps to your door, knowing that if it came down to it you would be more than ready to whack whoever trespassed. 

“Who is it?” You call out, loud enough for the intruder to hear, but get no response. 

At this point you are sure it was just your imagination and you turn, ready to get back to your noodles, when the knocks sound throughout the apartment again.

Frustrating is the only thought on your mind as you stomp towards your front door, ready to give whoever was on the other side of it a piece of your mind for interrupting your peaceful night with this bullshit—

The door swings open and your words die on your tongue.

Cerulean blue looks down at you and you were right — he has gotten taller.

“Hey, angel.”

You couldn’t believe your eyes. You wouldn’t believe your eyes because if you did you would see Touya, your childhood best friend Touya on your doorstep. Real and in the flesh, hair white as snow and eyes worn with fatigue. 

“Can I come in?” He asks and you are shellshocked, only stepping to the side as your eyes follow his every move. 

This was a moment you thought of for years after your first encounter in the forest, and for him to be here, with you. It didn’t feel real.

“Touya,” you gasp, voice low as if being any louder would wake you from this dream you must be having.

“I know.” His eyes are downcast with a sorrow you’ve never seen in him before, “I.. have a lot I want to tell you.”

It’s at that moment that the timer for your ramen goes off, startling you both and sending you rushing to the kitchen. You offer him a seat and insist that you’ve made enough for the both of you. 

There was so much you needed to discuss, so much to catch up on.  You didn’t know where to start. 

The little table you use to eat on is small, but perfect for the two of you, you realize as you set both bowls down and hand him a set of metal chopsticks. 

Your heart was in overdrive as you ran through thousands of things to ask, millions of unspoken words to say. You’ve imagined this moment in your head for years. Time and time again you’ve thought of what you would say to him, what you would do if you ever saw him again. 

Now the opportunity has presented itself and all you can manage is a wide eyed look as you both quietly eat your ramen. 

Surreal. 

This moment feels surreal and you’re sure that if you make any sudden movements or ask any loud questions, that it would be gone. Touya would be gone, disappearing in an instant and leaving you alone in your apartment. 

He speaks first, saving you the trouble of searching for words. “The food was good.” 

His voice sounds scratchy, like it hasn’t been used in years and you can't help but wonder why. 

“Thank you.” It’s all you can manage to get out, stunned to your core and desperately searching for words. 

You go to stand, taking the empty bowls with you to the kitchen and Touya follows suit, trailing behind in the small space of the apartment and you are hyper aware of his presence. 

You can feel the warmth of his body even when he is steps away from you. It radiates and blankets you in feelings you haven’t felt in years. 

As you place the bowls in the sink you can’t help but wonder where should you go from here. It’s a thought that plagues you as you grip the edge of the sink, fists tight and head hung low while you brace yourself to turn around, to face the reality of the truth standing right behind you—

You do it. You turn and it’s not a dream. It’s not your imagination, you conclude as you look into Touya's eyes, blue and familiar. Eyes you would know anywhere. 

His hair is snow white, the last color you saw it as before he—

“You kept it.” His eyes drop to the golden locket around your neck, a small smile pulling at his features. 

“Of course I did.” You’re firm, bringing two fingers up to brush against it, the cool feeling bringing you comfort over the last few years. 

His gaze seems far away as he zeros in on your locket, “I was worried you wouldn’t, after the last time we—“

“Don’t.” You cut him off, words sharp. “Don’t talk about it. Not tonight.”

You don’t know what you’re doing or where your mind is going as you take a step forward. He’s so different, yet so familiar and you can’t help but reach your hand up to brush over the newly faded scars along his cheek. 

Touya leans into the touch, closing his eyes and allowing you to feel. 

When he opens them again you get that feeling in your chest that always pulls at you and for the first time, you can finally place a word to the feeling. 

“I’m sorry,” you stammer, vision blurring with tears as you fight for your words, “I’m sorry I didn’t—“

Touya stops you, crashing his lips into yours and effectively silencing your racing thoughts. It’s warm and he’s so close, you wish you could pull him closer but you settle for this, allowing the tears to freely roll down your cheeks. 

When he pulls away there is only the smallest distance between you two. Noses so close they are almost touching. 

“I don’t care about any of that,” his eyes are so focused on yours, it feels like he’s put you in a trance. “I’m the one who should be apologizing, anyway.”

Before you could even shake your head, tell him no it’s the other way around, he’s pulling you back into a kiss, one so soft and so gentle you feel as though his lips were made for yours. 

It presses on, your hands finding his hair, soft and fluffy as you’ve always known it, while his hands hold your waist, pulling you in and keeping you close. 

This is not your first kiss, and it’s not Touya's either. You both decided at around eleven years old that you would try to emulate your parents and see what the fuss was about. Surely enough, you didn’t think you did it right because there was nothing. No sparks, no fireworks — just lips pressed together. 

You were both too young at the time, you now realize as you wrap your arms around Touya's neck, tilting your head and deepening the kiss. Way too young to realize that love is not fairytales and fireworks. 

Love is slow, it is steady and it is this — right here, right now, kissing your best friend in your tiny apartment kitchen. 

It’s perfect, you think as you both make your way to the bedroom, Touya trailing behind you for once as you lead him through the space. Hushed laughs and soft smiles dance together as you fall onto the bed. 

He is above you, and you wonder how you could have ever lived without his presence. The thought makes you sick. 

“I love you.” And it’s not your lips that moved, not your voice. It’s Touya, as he looks down at you, cheeks flushed and breathing heavy. “I never stopped loving you.”

“Touya…” Your heart swells and it’s then you feel it. The droplets of tears, falling from his eyes and onto your cheeks. They were as warm as he had always been and you waste no time pulling him down into another kiss — pulling away only enough to press your foreheads together. “I’ve always loved you.”

And you have. Even in death you loved him, nothing could take that love away from you. 

The next kiss is hungry, teeth and tongues clashing in a rush as you both fought to remove your clothes. You have regretted all the things that went unsaid, the actions that went undone and you were both not going to waste any of this new time you had been given. 

You feel one of Touya's fingers prod your entrance and the hesitation reminds you that you’re both inexperienced. New to the world of sex, but forever patient. You could guide each other, you decide as you gasp when he slowly slips a finger inside, slick coating the digit and making the press easier. 

Touya watches you with heavy lidded eyes as he pumps the digit, causing you to whine at the pressure. He pulls out soon after, searching for your sensitive bundle of nerves and giving a sly smirk when you moan at the touch. He’s found it and wastes no time rubbing circles, slow at first to get a feel of what makes you tick, but gaining more confidence as he goes on. 

There was a pressure beginning to build in your lower abdomen and it made you pull him close, thighs tensing as you squeeze your eyes shut. 

“Close?” His voice is a whisper beside your ear.

You only nod, unable to give him a verbal answer as your pleasure builds. 

You can feel his smile as he turns his head, cheeks brushing against yours. “Let go for me, I’ve got you.” 

And you do. 

You let go of the tension and allow your body to fall into the pleasure of your climax— gasping as it washed over you in waves, sending shocks of pleasure radiating through your body. 

“Fuck,” Touya moans above you as he works you through it, only moving to line up with your entrance once you’ve come down from your high. 

The press of it makes your breath hitch, but when you look up into Touya’s eyes you feel safe. 

“Tell me if you want to stop, okay?” And you nod, trusting him to be soft and slow. 

He’s nervous, too, and you can tell by the way his brows furrowed in focus. He doesn’t want to mess up your first time, but nothing could ruin this moment. Not even the twinge of pain you feel as the head of Touya’s cock pushes past your entrance, the tight muscles constricting against the intrusion. 

You reach out, hands finding balance against his back as he pressed on, muttering words of comfort to you and ebbing away the pain. 

It doesn’t take long before the pain has been washed away and replaced with the blossoming buzz of pleasure, Touya's hips having a steady pace as he begins to gain more momentum. 

The pleasure is quickly building again and you tell him as much, crying out when he snaps his hips at a particular angle and sends a flash of bliss up your spine. 

“Fuck, Touya, there! Right there,” you cry and he catches on instantly. He’s always been a fast learner. 

The angle he has is perfect as he brushes against the soft spot inside you over and over again, making your thighs shake and toes curl in pleasure as you meet your end once again. The feeling settles deep in your bones as the warmth of it spreads throughout your body like a warm blanket. 

Touya isn’t far behind, if his erratic pace was anything to go by. You could only watch in awe as he chased his high, with his brows furrowed and eyes tightly shut. You fall more in love as you feel his hips stutter and then stall, his white hot seed filling you from the inside and making you shudder. 

It was a new feeling that you believed you could get addicted to if you weren’t careful. 

But none of that mattered right now, because Touya was leaning down, pressing a kiss to your lips and you knew that right here, right now was the most important.

Everything else would have to wait until tomorrow.

#dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #touya x reader #dabi smut #mha x reader #my works #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #dabi x you #touya todoroki x you

[hardly-an-escape]

Stormy Weather, or: Outside, the Wind (Inside, the Light) | Dream/Hob | 1600 words | Rated T

tags: I recently spent an evening without power therefore I must put the blorbos in a Situation, love confessions, first kiss, getting together, power outages, Hob Gadling throughout history, gratuitious use of mildly accurate Middle English

The wind tears around London like a living thing, a wild animal, a predator, intent on the hunt. It chases birds into their nests and people into their homes, moans around corners and rattles shutters, sending piles of leaves whirling into miniature hurricanes and whipping branches into a frenzy, sharpening its claws on roof tiles and telephone poles.

Except in Hob Gadling’s flat.

The New Inn, and the cozy home above it, is in one of those old buildings that’s actually been loved and maintained – thanks in no small part to Hob’s own care and attention. The walls are thick and strong, the roof is solid. The shutters may rattle, but the windows are double-pane; the curtains and carpets are warm and soft, and no drafts encroach on the sanctity of his living room, where Hob and Lord Morpheus, King of Dreams, are having a movie night.

It’s part of Hob’s concerted effort to introduce the Prince of Stories to the stories he’d missed during his imprisonment. Tonight it’s Blade Runner – the final cut, of course – which isn’t necessarily one of Hob’s personal favorites, but seemed to fit the stormy, rainy vibes of the weather. They’re installed on the couch, with hot chocolate and wine and snacks, which Dream has deigned to pick at. Harrison Ford is eating noodles and wandering through wet, moodily-lit streets. The wind is howling outside, but they’re safe and warm and surrounded by soft things and life is about as good, Hob thinks, as it ever gets these days.

And then his lights flicker. Once, twice; there is the impression of a sort of electrical last gasp, and the room is plunged into darkness.

The wind whips and the shutters rattle. A volley of rain spits itself against the windows.

“Bugger,” says Hob.

Dream says nothing, merely brings his wineglass – which had already been cradled in one elegant hand – to his lips.

“Hang on,” says Hob. “I’ve got some candles around here somewhere.”

He gropes his way to the kitchen. In one drawer he unearths some beeswax tapers and several tea lights, which he arranges on a plate. He rummages in one of the deeper cabinets and makes a triumphant noise as he discovers his prize behind disused mugs and a fondue set from the 1980s: a pair of old-fashioned brass candlesticks equipped with round reflectors, highly polished to catch the light and bounce it back out into the darkness.

“You are remarkably well-prepared for an event such as this,” says Dream, as Hob lights his various prizes and returns to the living room with his hands full of flickering flames.

“Well, you know,” Hob demurs. “When it comes down to it, I’ve lived a lot more of my life without electricity than with it.” He arranges the tea lights on the coffee table and sets the brass candlesticks on a nearby bookshelf. “You never really get out of the habit of preparing for the worst. Although I will say, these beeswax ones beat the hell out of the old tallow jobbies we had when I was young. Got ‘em from a local bloke who keeps bees not half a mile away, isn’t that cool? A beekeeper in the middle of London. There, now,” he says, and having arranged the lights to his satisfaction he plops himself back down on the sofa.

Outside, the wind wails. The lack of lamps on the empty street below and the gentle candlelight within make the night seem even darker, and turn Hob’s living room into something even softer and cozier than it already is.

Dream’s face, in the flickering candles, seems even more otherworldly than usual; and Hob, for his part, truly looks as though he belongs in another century. The very shape of his face has changed, somehow, into something older; taking on a new appearance in the candlelight the way a man’s tongue might curl differently around the syllables of another language.

“I miss it, sometimes,” he says lowly. “This kind of world. Before the wires and the phones and the cars. It was… quieter.”

“You speak often of your delight in change and progress. Do you truly long for your past lives?” asks Dream.

“Yes and no,” answers Hob. “Some things are better now, no question. Antibiotics, wouldn’t want to live without those again. Vaccines and X-rays and chemotherapy and antidepressants – almost all the medical stuff. Mass transportation. Cars and planes have never been safer. Honestly, I’ve never understood the people who moan about the olden days and oh, life was simpler back then. Don’t they know how many people died? How many kids? Because they caught a cold or fell out of a tree or had a case of the runs that lasted a little too long?”

He leans forward to adjust one of the candles, which is dripping unevenly, and when he sags back into the couch there is just the hint of a frown between his strong brows.

“And yet…” he says, staring into the flames, voice quiet. “Nights like this. I do sometimes think…”

Hob trails off for a long moment.

“There was a rhythm to life, back then,” he says finally. “You counted hours by the church bells and days by the tasks that needed done. And there was so much that needed to be done… cows milked and fields planted and clothes knitted or mended. And it was all so important, so… necessary. Regimented. But in the in between time – Christ! your time wast thine.” As he speaks, his voice has slipped into an older register: his Rs grown rounder, his vowels longer, curling from his mouth to mingle with the candlesmoke hovering over his coffee table. “I remember fair hours as a lad, even into my manhood, of which I spent lyende in th’ fields, watching ants in th’ grass. And later, too, we’d hie us to bed with the sonne, the fire banked in the hearth. An’ it happen that if we awakened before dawn, ’twas a simple thing to pass the time in simple ways, be it in prayer or in pleasure…”

The innuendo in his words is clear, but Hob is not looking at Dream; his eyes are unfocused as he stares into the middle distance, revisiting the past via candlelight. Until one of the wicks lets out a small pop, and flares, and he shakes himself, coming back to the present.

“God, sorry,” he says, voice back in the 21st century. “Woolgathering. I’ll go on for an age, me. More wine?”

But Dream’s eyes have also gone unfocused, his lips parted slightly, chest rising and falling with unnecessary breaths as he stares – no, gazes – at Hob. He, too, must shake himself into the present moment at Hob’s offer of more wine. He silently holds out his glass.

“May I ask you a personal question?” Dream says.

“Anything. You know that.”

Dream pauses. Sips. Outside, the sound of the wind has not abated; has grown, if anything, even more dramatic. There is the muffled sound of branches scraping against the side of the building.

“Why,” asks Dream finally, “do you pretend to yourself that you do not want me?”

Hob chokes. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Why do you pretend thus to me?” Dream pursues. “Who has known you longer than any being on this planet or any other; who can know your innermost dreams?”

“What do you mean, other planets?” Hob demands. And then: “Have you been peeking at my dreams?”

“I need not peek, as you put it, to see the truth of the matter. It is writ plain on your face and in your every word and deed. I merely wonder why this truth has hovered before us for over six hundred years and you have yet to press your suit. Do you doubt, after all this time, my affection for you? Do you find me – unworthy?”

Dream sounds, impossibly, almost uncertain. Even vulnerable. Hob sighs heavily and leans forward, elbows on his knees and face in his hands.

“I – God. Dream,” he stammers. “Yes, Christ, I am full of doubts. You stormed away from me when I implied you might be lonely, I… I have never, once, thought I had a suit to press at all. What on earth has brought this on? Now, of all times?”

“I do not know,” Dream murmurs. “Perhaps… this darkness is working on me, as well. Perhaps I am as susceptible to candlelight and nostalgia as the next anthropomorphic personification.”

He smiles, a little quirk of the mouth that contains worlds, and Hob leans over, listing helplessly into Dream’s space as the tapers flicker.

“Fuck,” he whispers, pressing their foreheads together, turning his head to butt his cheekbone against the sharp line of Dream’s nose. “Art thou rēal? Speak you treue?”

“Aye, my Hob,” answers Dream. “Min herte is treue and bilongeth to you.”

A sob catches in the back of Hob’s throat at the words. “Fuck,” he whispers again, “Dream, I’m yours. I am. I always have been. My Dream, min sweven, my leof. Alwei, allesweis…”

Their mouths find each other, then, finally, lip against lip and breath against breath. They kiss for a long, long moment, desperate and hungry and soft all at once, as outside the wind howls coldly around the corners of the New Inn, and inside the light cast by Hob’s candles bathes their whole little world in a cozy glow.

“Take me to bed,” murmurs Dream against Hob’s mouth. “Make me your lover. Show me how you pass the time by candlelight, and in darkness.”

“Oh, darling. Dearheart,” Hob answers. “Nothing in this world or any world past could make me happier.”

And he suits his actions to his words.

#my writing #the sandman #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #a needlessly complicated title for a truly simple little fic #I've already written this basic premise so many times AND I'LL DO IT AGAIN #the archaic English Hob uses in this fic is based on the most cursory googling #just tell yourself it's all over the place because historically English is.... all over the place #my unpopular opinion is that I think Blade Runner is overrated and yes I will project my opinions onto fictional characters #as usual this started in one place and went in another direction entirely #may post on AO3 tomorrow if the spirit so moves me

[senp1i]

Hey I asked for the previous yunjin fic and I have another for a male reader x her it’s like when all of them go to New York reader takes yunjin to his home town of Boston and they have dinner with his parents and after they go back to a hotel in New York and have a bath together then have fluffy sex thank you

It had been a whirlwind few weeks for LE SSERAFIM promoting their latest comeback album all across Asia with their tour ‘FLAME RISES’, And even flying around the States for their abroad schedules. Though the girls were energized seeing their international fans, the grueling schedule was starting to take its toll.

One evening after wrapping up their final work day for the week in New York City, Yunjin collapsed exhausted on one of the couches of her and her members hotel suite.

"I don't know how much more I can take, unnie," she murmured to the leader of Lesserafim,

Kim Chaewon, who patted her back in a way she hoped was soothing, even though she's just as tired, if not more.

As the two groupmates are relaxing on the couch, Yunjin's phone suddenly lit up with a text from her boyfriend Y/N, who had come to several of the group's shows to support his girl.

"Wanna get away for some R&R this weekend? My parent's want to meet you" He wrote.

Yunjin perked up at the thought of seeing Y/N and the chance to recharge. "Unnie, do you think the company would let me take a couple days off if I went with Y/N to visit his family?" She asked Chaewon with pleading puppy eyes.

to which Chaewon smiled knowingly. "I think after this week, you've earned a little break. Let me talk to the managers."

A few hours later, everything was approved. Yunjin excitedly called Y/N to share the good news and make plans to fly out to Boston together the next day to meet his parents.

On the flight, Yunjin dozed contentedly against Y/N's shoulder for the entirety of the hour long flight, already feeling some of her tiredness disappear in her boyfriend’s comforting presence.

Touching down in Boston, Y/N drove quietly as the radio played a random tune while Yunjin finished her nap a little longer. Pulling up outside his family home, Yunjin took a deep breath, suddenly nervous as she walked up to the front door,

But all her worries vanished the moment she was pulled into a warm hug by Y/N's mother,

"Welcome, welcome! It's so nice to finally meet our son's girlfriend. I've heard so much about you!" She says genuinely.

And more into the night over a much needed home-cooked meal, Yunjin charmed Y/N's parents with stories of LE SSERAFIM and her own fun from her opera days. She was touched by their warm hospitality, feeling instantly at ease.

Later, curled up on the sofa, Yunjin sighed contentedly in Y/N's arms. "Thank you for bringing me here babe. This is for real what I needed to recharge."

Y/N pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Anything for you, babe."

But as the night deepened, Yunjin began to feel the effects of her long travels catching up to her. "I think it's time we turned in, what do you say?" Y/N smiled down at her tired form nestled against his chest.

"Mom set you up in the guest room, but you're welcome to bunk with me if you'd like."

Truth be told, the idea of curling up beside Y/N under cozy blankets was far more appealing than sleeping alone.

"I'd like that," Yunjin replied softly. Hand in hand they made their way upstairs, Y/N pointing out family photos, his goofy smiles and random shots along the walls before reaching the door to his childhood bedroom.

The house had a vibe that was uniquely Y/N. Football posters and vinyl's lined the walls, knickknacks all over the place on the shelves.

She smiled to see photos of the two of them mixed with pictures of his past, of him growing up, of him playing and yada yada.

Stepping inside, Yunjin ran her hand along the old, scratched wood of his desk, imagining a younger Y/N hunched over doing homework.

The bed was neatly made, with his favorite colored sheets and 3 pillows, almost inviting her to lay on it.

Y/N watched her explore with adoring eyes, always loving being able to share parts of himself with her. "It's not a lot, but it's home i guess," he says with a shrug and a chuckle.

Yunjin turned to him, cupping his face in her hands. "It tells me so much about the great man my boyfriend is. I feel like I know you even better coming here."

Leaning in, their lips met in a soft kiss filled with care, trust and understanding.

Breaking the kiss reluctantly, Yunjin moved to unpack a few items from her bag as Y/N changed into his sleep clothes.

The familiar routine of her nightly routine brought her comfort. Sliding under the covers, she sighed contentedly as Y/N's arm curled around her slim waist, drawing her close against the solid planes of his body. Their breaths and heartbeats syncing as sleep takes over them from the long journey of the day

Sunlight was filtering through the curtains when Yunjin woke up the next morning. For a moment she was disoriented, not recognizing where she was. Then the memories of the previous day flooded back mixed with a rush of gratitude and happiness.

Rolling over, she saw Y/N still sleeping peacefully beside her. His features soft and slacking in sleep, lips slightly ajar as he snored softly.

Reaching out, Yunjin gently brushed back a lock of hair from his forehead, letting her fingers linger tracing the lines of his cheekbone, the curve of his lips.

Sensing her touch, Y/N began to stir, blinking awake to smile warmly up at her. "Good morning, beautiful," he murmured in a sleep-husky, velvety voice that sent a jolt through her spine.

Leaning in, their lips met in a lazy kiss conveying all the love and affection they felt.

As the kiss deepened, getting sloppier, Yunjin felt the familiar pulls of desire stirring in her abdomen.

It had been too long since they'd fucked, both of their schedules keeping them way too busy.

Y/N seemed to sense her rising horniness, as his hands began to roam with confidence over her curvy body still under the blanket and her sleep clothes.

A soft sigh escaped Yunjin's lips feeling his hands, her body arching into his on its own, wanting more contact.

Y/N took the invitation, flipping himself and her so she was under him, without breaking their kiss.

Through the fabric of her clothes, she could feel his morning wood pressing against her thigh, stirring a fresh wave of horniness in her.

Breaking the kiss breathlessly and swollen, Yunjin looked up at Y/N with lusty eyes. "Fuck me," she said, her own voice raspy.

That was all the initiative Y/N needed as he dunked in kissing her again, tongue sliding through her parted lips as his hands moved in tandem, taking her clothes off.

Yunjin shivered as the cold morning air touched her bare legs, tits and arms, nipples hardening to peaks.

She helped take his own clothes off, eager as fuck to feel his muscles against her.

At last as his boxer got tossed across the room, Yunjin wrapped her legs around his waist, while grabbing his dick and inserting it inside her dripping cunt.

Both moaning at finally joining after so long without sex, Y/N stayed still, blissed out feeling her tight, dripping hole clench his dick so snugly even after taking him a billion times.

Under him, Yunjin squirmed, impatient for him to fuck her stupid. "Please… fucking move," she begged, raking her nails down his back encouragingly.

With a hum in response, Y/N started to rock his hips in a slow, deep pace still a bit hazy having just woken up.

Lost in the feeling, they moved together lazily.

Yunjin met Y/N pump for pump, taking him fully to the hilt and clenching tighter with each thrust. The slapping of his balls hitting her ass mingled with their moans filled his small room.

Y/N began to redouble his efforts, picking up pace as his hips snap powerfully as he chased his and Yunjin's orgasm.

Reaching down, his fingers started rubbing Yunjin's clit in circles. That was all it took to break her, back arching off the mattress as jolts after jolts wracked her body.

Her walls clenching vice-like around Y/N's dick still pounding her into his mattress relentlessly, pulling his own orgasm from him with a groan.

Ropes after ropes of hot semen spurt inside her, painting Yunjin's inner walls white, as he fucked her through the aftershocks together, in a blissed out haze.

Collapsing in a sweaty, tired mess, they took a few moments to catch their breaths.

Yunjin turned her head lazily to press a kiss to Y/N's sweaty shoulder, murmuring lovey dovey shit. And him responding with a lazy dopey smile, eyes crinkling in the corners.

"That was fucking amazing. I missed being with you like this so much," Y/N mumbled sighing, as he ran his fingers up and down Yunjin's side.

She hummed in agreement, snuggling closer against his chest listening to the frantic thumps of his heartbeat slowly returning to normal. His arms encircled her holding her close.

Yunjin stretched luxuriously in the bed against his chest, enjoying the post-sex glow before reality set back in.

Glancing at Y/N beside her, having rolled off, she smiled at his messed up, lazy look. "Not a bad way to start the day, huh?" she teased, tracing idle patterns on his chest, As he chuckles.

But the spell is broken as A knock and his mom's muffled voice reminded them of breakfast waiting, "Kids, you up? Breakfast is ready whenever you are,"

Yunjin's stomach rumbled in agreement. "Food does sound good. And your Mom's cooking is no joke," she whispered to Y/N grinning,

"We'll be down in a bit, mom, thanks!" Y/N called back chuckling as he pats Yunjin's flat stomach after hearing the rumble, before rolling from the bed to begin gathering their clothes.

Over a hearty breakfast of pancakes, eggs, bacon and fruits, Yunjin chatted animatedly with his parents about their plans for the day.

"I was hoping to show Yunjin around some of my favorite spots, maybe catch a Sox game if the timing works out?" Y/N said with a mouthful of pancakes.

His dad grinned. "Take my car, it'll be easier than public transports with your schedule. And here, take some cash - I insist on treating my future daughter-in-law to a nice lunch out." he says passing car keys and some cash to Y/N.

Yunjin ducked her head, cheeks warming at the endearing term, far beyond grateful for the way Y/N's family welcomed her since the start of yesterday to now.

"Thank you so much for your generosity and hospitality Mr. and Mrs L/N," she said with a smile as Y/N's hand found hers under the table, giving her a gentle squeeze.

Once the breakfast came to an end, Yunjin and Y/N set off to explore the city Y/N grew up in.

Their first stop was the harbor, which was filled seagulls and fishing boats, not to mention the crowds of people.

Yunjin leaned over the railing to take it all in, breathing in the sea air, genuinely feeling the refreshment after months of being shut indoors and traveling to buildings, stadiums and back.

"It's so peaceful here," she murmured with a contented sigh.

Y/N slipped his arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her temple. "This is nice huh? I used to come here to…. Think, relax, play, u name it." He says with a slight laugh as he tilts his head and looks at her

Turning in his arms, Yunjin smiled up at her loving boyfriend "Yeah? It really is nice.. Thank you, like really.. you know, for sharing your special places with me." She says, and the response she gets in the smile Y/N gives her more than any word he could’ve said.

And then as the time goes their next stop happens to be walking through the Boston Commons, taking in the leaves and families enjoying their afternoon.

Yunjin spotted a street performer juggling and doing tricks, laughing, she turns to Y/N,

"You'd give him a run for his money," she teased Y/N, who makes a faux hurt face, "puhlease, my juggling skills are elite, thank you very much."

As they continued on, Yunjin spotted a food truck selling crepes. "Ooh, can we try one? I'm starving." She says dramatically,

Making Y/N chuckle, "Sureee, Go pick the flavors." After paying, they stroll around, finding a bench to eat, while feeding each other bites and laughing at the mess they're making.

Yunjin savored these carefree moments away from the pressures of being an idol, the constant scrutiny and the lack of privacy, just enjoying life with the person she loved and adored.

Soon Their afternoon started winding down, with catching the last bit of a Red Sox game from the box seats courtesy of Y/N's dad's connections, and of course Yunjin’s status,

Yunjin cheered alongside the loud and roaring Boston fans, completely entertained by the atmosphere.

As the sun began to set, Y/N drove them to a hole in the wall near the waters.

Over plates of pasta, garlic bread and red wine, they talked about everything and nothing at the same time, laughing and joking like a bunch of tweens.

And after finishing their food, they wandered through the Public Garden, pausing to admire the swans gliding thru the waters. Under one of the trees, with little to no people nearby,

Y/N turns to Yunjin, taking her hands in his, and softly kissing her palm.

"Thank you for coming here with me babe, for letting me share this part of myself, even though you have this insane schedule to follow, " He says with a chuckle,

“I mean it really, I love you” he murmurs, leaning in and kissing her, soft and gentle.

And as the night grew colder they finally, got back in the car and headed home, fingers laced together on top of the console as Y/N drove them back to his childhood home,

but all too soon their little weekend getaway was coming to an end, Y/N and Yunjin’s flight being at midnight to fly back to New York,

Yunjin bids a sad goodbye to Y/N's parents, promising to visit again soon. His mom hugs her tight. "You're always welcome here, sweetheart."

In the car on the way to the airport, Yunjin rests her head on Y/N's shoulder. "Thank you for the best weekend. I really needed this."

Y/N kisses the top of her head. "I'm glad. I'll miss you."

At the airport, they linger in a hug. "I booked a suite at your hotel in New York. Want to come over after we land?" Y/N asks.

Yunjin smiles. "I'd love that."

They fly back to JFK, taking an Uber straight to the hotel.

There, Y/N checks into the lavish suite as Yunjin texts her manager and her members that she'll be with Y/N for the night.

Inside the suite, Yunjin sighs. "This place is amazing." she says, as She wraps her arms around Y/N's waist from behind, resting her head against his back. "Thank you for doing this."

Y/N turns in her arms, caressing her cheek. "You deserve to relax, Want to take a bath?"

In the massive bathroom, Y/N runs warm water into the jacuzzi tub as Yunjin lights candles and dumps bath bombs into it.

They undress slowly, giving each other gentle kisses.

Once Naked, Yunjin sinks into the bubbles, leaning back against Y/N's bare chest with a relaxed hum as his arms wrap around her. "This is perfect," she murmurs.

They soak in silence, Y/N occasionally pressing kisses to Yunjin's neck and shoulders.

His hands slide lazily over her skin, rememorizing her curves.

Yunjin turns her head to meet Y/N's lips in a deep kiss.

His hands move to cup her tits, thumbs teasing her nipples until she's whimpering into his mouth.

"Y/N…" she says his name breathlessly.

She reaches back to grasp his growing dick, stroking him to his full length.

Y/N groans, biting her shoulder gently as his fingers find her clit.

She gasps at the contact, grinding into his hand and pushing back against his hard on. "Please, I need you inside me…"

Y/N lifts her wihtout a sweat out of the tub, laying her on the plush bathmat.

He settles between her thighs, kissing down her body lazily until his tongue replaces his thumb, lapping at her slcik pussy lips.

Yunjin cries out, raking her fingers through his hair to hold him against her as the tension coils tighter.

When she orgasms, her back arches off the tiles, Y/N laps up her nectar like a starving man.

Once her orgasm subsides, Y/N positions himself at her pussy.

"Look at me," he murmurs, pushing in slowly inch by inch until he's fully sheathed.

Yunjin moans at the fullness, locking eyes with Y/N's dark gaze. "You feel so good daddy," she whimpers, wrapping her legs around his waist.

Y/N sets a deep, lazy pace.

Balls slapping against her ass as their breaths mingle in between their kisses. Yunjin runs her nails down his back, urging him faster.

He hooks her leg over his shoulder for a new angle, immediately finding her g-spot inside her that makes colors burst behind her eyelids.

"There, don't stop, Y/N!" she screams,

Her walls start fluttering around him as another orgasm starts building.

Y/N pounds into her relentlessly, chasing his own release.

"cum for me," he rumbles in her ear, "Cum for daddy jen" he says shattering her with a squeaky moan,

The grip of her walls draw Y/N's orgasm from him and he spills spurts of semen inside her with a groan.

They lay on the bathmat still connected as their frantic heartbeats slow down, sharing lazy kisses.

Y/N brushes the damp hair from Yunjin's forehead. "You're so fucking pretty."

She smiles in response, scratching his cheek softly, "That was perfect, baby"

After finally getting off the floor and dressing into the plush robes, Y/N orders a feast of food from the room service - sushi, steak, pasta, sweets, champagne, you name it.

They feed each other bites between kisses, playfully stealing food from each other's plates.

Later, curled half naked on bed with the remains of their meal, Yunjin traces patterns on Y/N's chest. "I don't want this night to end," she murmurs sadly.

Y/N presses a kiss to her forehead, smirking "One more round before sleep?"

Yunjin grins, straddling his hips. She takes him in her hand, stroking his flaccid dick to its full length ,

Before sinking down slowly as they moan in unison. Bracing her hands on his chest, she sets a steady rhythm, eyes closed.

Under her, Y/N watches her ride him, his hands roam her curves, rubbing and pinching her nipples.

When he feels her walls start fluttering around him, Y/N sits up to take one nipple in his mouth.

His suckling sends Yunjin over the edge for the third time this night with a cry, walls clenching down on him.

With a pleased hum, Y/N starts bouncing her on his dick holding her hips before following her over the edge.

As his dick grows soft again, Yunjin collapses against his chest as they kiss through eachothers aftershocks.

Y/N lays down onto the pillows, Yunjin still on him as he pulls the blankets over their tired, sweaty bodies.

"I love you so much," he whispers, nuzzling her neck.

Yunjin's eyes are already shut as she sighs contentedly. "Love you too."

In each other's arms, surrounded by the mixed heady scents of their orgasms and sweat, they slip into a nice, much needed sleep.

a- honestly how the fuck do people write so many words? jesus this took me two whole weeks, well in my defense i barely got time to write each day cause of training but holy hell, this is like w/c: 3300 maybe, anyway, i hope you enjoy man and reqs are open but i doubt i'll post consecutively

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #reader insert #idol x male reader #idol x reader #lesserafim smut #yunjin smut #male reader #kpop #kpop fanfic male reader #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop gg smut #Yunjin #HuhYunjin #jennifer huh #huh yunjin #Yunjin smut #le sserafim #Le sserafim smut #Male reader

[v-ternus]

pebis 8=D

pebis you say? boy do i got a treat for you

// The new ghoul was certainly… something, and he’s sure clueless to what he does to a certain earth ghoul //

Corruption kink, praise, size kink (if you squint) and a nice handy in the common room for you to indulge in :)

Aeon loved his new pack, loved the way they took him and Aurora in so quickly. He especially loved the way they shared parts of themselves— Rain taught him how to swim, Cumulus and Cirrus spent a day watching the sky and clouds with him, showing him how you could tell storms were coming in. Probably the most nerve wracking of all, Dew showed him how to build up the campfires when they wanted to enjoy the cooler summer nights outdoors. Fires hurt, he had murmured when his hand got a little too close to the growing flames. He got to learn the word burn that day.

Besides the accidents with fires and forgetting that he can't breathe underwater, (thanks Rain), his favorite thing was what Mountain had to show him. 

He would’ve guessed that he’d show him the gardens around the abbey, or even take him for a walk through the forest that borders the land– something with his element, like the others had done. Instead, Mountain had led him into the common space one day and told him to get comfortable on the couch. He did as he was told, put himself down with his legs crossed under him and found a blanket to put down on his lap. Mountain was still in front of the TV when he heard a beep and quiet whirring. 

“It’s a console,” Mountain said, and Aeon could only give him a dumbfounded look. “This one’s a PS4, Swiss has an Xbox. You play videogames on them.” 

Aeon chirped, mumbled ok as Mountain started up Spiderman before handing him the controller. Mountain had shown him all the controls, taught him how to swing through New York and be the ‘friendly neighborhood Spiderman’.

Ever since that day, it's become their thing. Every Tuesday after they’ve finished their chores, they’ll play one of the handful of games that sit by the TV. Some days they pick a shooter, or maybe an RPG, sometimes even an old school player versus player. Whatever it is, Aeon always has fun, and Mountain always gets a kick out of watching his bug like eyes that stay trained on the colorful screen.

Today was no exception. Mountain already had Call of Duty started up as Aeon finished his work. 

“Zombies?” Aeon asked as he walked in and dumped himself onto the free space next to Mountain on the couch. Mountain didn't answer, didn't need to. He just picked the mode and handed Aeon his controller. Their afternoons were always easy like this, with little words spoken besides when they were deciding on a game. 

Besides the groaning undead and hellfire sounds of bullets and grenades, they were quiet, both lost in the world. 

Until they weren't. 

Between rounds, when no shots were echoing through the room, Aeon could hear it. 

Mountain’s little coughs, muffled groans and heavy breaths. 

“You ok Mount?” He asked before the next hoard of zombies came around, only giving a passing glance out of his peripheral. He should’ve known then, when Mountain took awhile to offer a noncommittal grunt. Yeah, —m good.

It only got worse from there. The earth ghoul seemed more and more restless with each round. He kept rearranging himself, tugging on his pants, stretching his legs. 

The new ghoul had had enough. He quit the game, quickly before Mountain could realize, set his controller on the table and turned to face him. 

“Come on,” he whined, drawing out the words like a child. “Tell me.”

Mountain sighed heavily as he set his controller down and rested his arms on his knees, hunching himself over the tent in his pants that’s been quickly growing ever since they started. 

He keeps his eyes trained to the floor, knowing that fully taking the little ghoul in would have him aching for friction. With a wave of his hand, he finally breaks the silence, “—m hard.”

He can feel Aeon’s questioning gaze on him, like it’s burning a hole through his body. The words are too slurred, mumbled dismissively. He knows Aeon didnt hear him, so much to his dismay, he repeats himself. 

“Im hard,” he says, clearly this time, finally finding the strength to look at Aeon— what a mistake. He takes in the sly tilt of his head, swallows up the look on his face. He can see the gears turning behind the soft lilac eyes that still feel like they’re staring daggers. 

“Hard?”

“Hard.” Mountain mouths through gritted teeth, growing harder as the seconds go by. He’s sure he’d find a sticky mess right over his tip if he looked down. 

“An erection. Stiffy. A hard on, if you will.”

The words float in the air, heard, but not understood. Once Mountain realizes, shame washes over him. Mountain shouldn't be enjoying this the way he is. 

“What does it mean?” The innocence all but knocks the air out of his lungs, and so does the notion of explaining an erection. Where does he start? What words can describe it?

Oh yeah. It just happens because all I can think about is the way my fingers could touch if I grabbed you by the waist. My dick starts to ache when a sliver of your skin shows as you reach for something on the table. No biggie really. 

“It uhhhhh… happens when I'm attracted to someone.” Worst fucking choice of words ever. Literally anything else would’ve been better. But he’s thinking with his other head now, there’s no room for anything more coherent— what’s said is said. 

“Attracted?” Satan below this ghoul was going to kill him. He’s gotta be playing dumb, right?

“Yeah, attracted,” He tries to breathe, tries to put his urges to the side. “Means I like them.”

Aeon moves closer to Mountain, till his knees are pressed to his outer thigh. He sits back on his haunches and rests his hands palm side down on his legs. His excitement is palpable, Mountain can almost taste it. 

“Does that mean you like me?” His voice pitches up, animated and fun. Mountain can only nod. He should use his words, lie and tell him no, but he cant figure out why his tongue wont move. Regardless, the answer had Aeon sporting a wide grin, he’s got pride written across his features. Mountain likes me! His inner voice cheers. 

“Then I can help you, right?”

Oh the doe eyed innocence. Too kind for his own good. He shouldnt ruin him. Not like this. But he’s too sweet. Mountain has no choice, he cant help it. 

“Yeah, want me to show you how?” Aeon nods enthusiastically and Mountain finally relaxes and leans back onto the couch, spreading his legs just so. His problem is obvious now, pressed up tight against the seam of his boxers, pre leaking through and darkening the light wash of his jeans. Aching to have Aeon’s pretty hands wrapped around him. 

“I need help pulling it out bug,” he feigns incompetence as he stretches his arms over the arm and back of the couch. 

“Undo my pants for me,” he says gently. Aeon reaches over and gets to work, moving deft fingers over stiff denim. Its weird undoing pants from this angle, and Mountain is loving the struggle. 

“Pull my boxers down,” Obedient as the day he was summoned, Aeon follows. He hooks a finger under the waistband and slowly pulls down and out of the way, just enough for Mountain’s dick to spring out and curve against his stomach. The pre that smears onto his shirt is a problem for later. 

Mountain finally gives himself relief, wraps his hand around the base and holds gently. It's just enough to take the edge off. He looks at Aeon who’s fixed on the way his hand holds his cock. 

“Give me your hand little one,” he takes Aeon hand in his free hand and laces their fingers together, his hand almost covering Aeon’s entirely with the way its spread across the back. 

“Ready?” He asks, as if Aeon is the one that needs to be ready. Mountain thinks he might cum the second he brings their hands down. 

He was dangerously close to his prediction, the little warmth from his hand against his aching cock was better than he could have imagined. It had his stomach in knots faster than he’d like to admit. 

Stilling himself, he drags their hands along slowly, wanting to savor each touch, twisting over the ruddy tip that’s been leaking pre. 

“It’s sticky,” Aeon remarks the first time his fingers glide over Mountain’s slit. It’s cute really, the way he remarks so simply.  

“Yeah bug, it’s cause you’re making it feel really good.” A pit of guilt brews in Mountain’s gut, he shouldn't be doing this, not when the ghoul is so fresh, but it’s not his fault Aeon always eyes him up. It’s certainly not his fault the little ghoul has him chubbing up in his pants whenever he’s around. 

“I can do it on my own I think.” Aeon looks at Mountain with a slight smile, and Mountain answers by just taking his hands away. Wordless, easy, just like their regular Tuesday afternoons. 

He watches in awe as another slight hand wraps itself around him and strokes just as slow as before. Any other day he’d be upset with the teasing, but today? He’ll let the young ghoul do as he pleases, he is just learning after all.

Unknowing as he is, he’s doing well, very well. He knows how tight to squeeze, knows that Mountain loves to have mean fingers press into the spot right under the head, as if by magic. Maybe it is, he thinks, but Mountain sets that thought aside for later. 

He’s never fought this hard to not cum. He doesnt want it to be over, no matter how much he aches and throbs. The only things he lets free are the sweet sounds that are being drawn out of him. Aeon responds with hums, and before long, he’s purring, rumbling in his chest. 

“Do you like touching it, little one?” He studies the focused look on Aeon’s face. 

“I think so… I can feel it moving.” Moving, Mountain laughs, knowing his cock has been twitching in Aeon’s soft grip for what feels like hours. Each time he looks down, he feels himself throb with the way his hand barely covers half of his length. 

“It feels very good bug. You’re doing so well, being so helpful.” He chokes on the last syllable as Aeon thumbs at the slit, letting a string of pre stretch as he pulls away. There’s more now, slick dripping down onto his pants. He could practically hear everyone’s teasing if any of them came waltzing into the common room. 

Almost wetter than a water ghoul Mounty, all ‘cause the new ghoul has his hands on you.

Dirty Mountain, ruining our new summon like this. What would Papa think?”

Letting Aeon get you like this for all of us to see? Doesnt take much to undo you sprout. 

The thoughts get him too close to the edge, the fire growing in his gut burning too hot. He’s not going to last much longer at this rate. His eyes drift shut as he tries to pull himself back from plummeting to his finish. 

“Mount, why is it bigger?” 

Oh whatever peace he found is quickly washed away. Mountain peels his head off of the couch to look at Aeon, before letting his eyes drift down. 

“This…” Aeon’s voice trails off as he cups the base of Mountain’s cock where his knot is starting to form. “Bigger”

Fuck. It's not something he thought he’d ever have to say out loud. He’s not even at his fullest yet, and it's already filling Aeon’s hands. He tries to not think about how good it’ll feel when he squeezes it, but he can’t help but thrust up into the pressure that threatens to push him over the edge.

“Its my knot. Helps me stay inside, helps me stay close when I like someone.” The words arent perfect ,not by a longshot, they barely scratch the surface of what it is, but it seems good enough for Aeon who just hums as he keeps working his hands over Mountain's cock. 

“Would you like to knot me?” That’s it. 

“Someday little one,” he doesnt mean for it, but it comes out ragged, louder and harsher than before. He swears he sees worry, maybe even fear splash across Aeon’s face. He wears it so well. 

To hell with drawing this out, he thinks, he needs to finish. Desperately wanting to paint his spend on the fingers that hold him so tenderly, he finds the words to get Aeon just how he needs him.

“Help me with this first hmm?” Aeon nods as Mountain reaches for him and gets him to straddle his legs. He wraps his hands Aeon’s and fucks into their grip, twitching as Aeon squeezes on the down strokes. 

“Keep going just like that,”

“Watch it, watch how good you’re doing” He’s rambling and he doesnt care. He needs it now, worse than ever. He brings a hand up and cradles Aeon’s face, dragging his slick covered thumb across flush skin. He looks at him like he hung the stars. Mindlessly, he leans forward for a kiss, its soft and slow. He can tell Aeon doesnt know what to do, but it just makes it that much more enticing. 

“Put your hands around my knot little one, hold it nice and tight for me. Can you do that?” 

“I’ll try,” he mumbles against Mountain’s lips. His hands find their way around the growing base of Mountain’s dick and squeezes, just like he said. He watches as a hand keeps stroking, making wet noises as another pays special attention to the head, and before long, white ropes of Mountain’s cum coats their fingers and drips down his length

Mountain cums with a sharp breath. He’s sure he blacked out with the way his ears are ringing. As if by magic again, he can feel Aeon tightening and loosening his grip, milking him dry, making sure to get everything he has to give. 

“Good boy, Aeon” he says as he throws his head back, breathless and floaty, leaving the curve of his neck open to the ghoul in his lap. Curious, Aeon drags his tongue up the damp skin and groans at the taste of Mountain. If Mountain wasn't already sitting, the feeling would've had him dropping to the floor. 

“Can I taste it?” Aeon asks as he holds his messy fingers up between them, wet with pre and striped with cum. 

Mountain goes stupid and gives a quick grunt. Yes please, he practically screams the words in his head. He feels his dick pitifully try and fill out again as Aeon mouths at his fingers, sucking the cum off and taking in the heady taste of Mountain. 

Mountain watches as Aeon swallows him down.

“Salty”

#the band ghost #mountain #aeon #phantom #earth ghoul #nameless ghouls #quintessence ghoul #vee answers #vee writes #mountain x phantom #mountain x aeon #mountain ghoul

[whiteeyes-is-a-mad-scientist]

oc intro

week has started off rough cause I got bit by a dog and my leg now hurts and has a nasty bruise 💔 so why not chat about some of my wof ocs. Fair warning there will be alot of older art 💀 prepare

princess jojoba, sandwing, she/her

Jojoba I'd one of many siblings and in no way near the throne, thus she is carefree. She's also mama's favorite and they spend time together often. when not with her mother she is off watching races across the dunes and trading within markets. While Jojoba is outgoing and joyful she is haunted by the fact one of her sisters will kill their mother for the throne. She doesn't want to loose her mother and she knows she'll never very whoever does it the same.

art status: oldish ref needs redone

Forestfire, skywing, he/him

Forestfire is a rather large firescales skywing. When he was born rumors and fear spread quickly. His parents paid an animus to make a rope, unable to be burned or broken, and tied it around their sons jaws to keep him from using his fire. They thought if he never used fire that the internal flame would just burn out and he'd become "normal". The rope did the opposite causing his flames to burn stronger and break through his scales to find some relief. The poor boy was then banished into the mountain and locked up for good. Forestfire now waits within the mountain growing angrier by the day waiting for a group of pseudo prophecy dragonets to stumble their way in and release him.

Art status: old ref, needs redo and will probably be removing the front horn it's a bit too hivewing

BASE: Joy ang lines from the book

Fossil, mudwing, he/him

Fossil is a lost mudwing trying to find his family. He doesn't remember them but just has that gut feeling something is wrong. He is well liked within the mudwing villages and he drifts from troop to troop, feeling loved but not exactly fitting in

Art status: needs drawn ref

Wolfsbane, leafwing, he/him

A hired hand, will do anything for money kinda guy. He looks pretty intimidating so he hasn't really had to get violent on many of his jobs. Thinking of sticking this guy into my other mind au story

Art status: old-ish art, would like to give new ref but doesn't not need one immediately

Queen Sonne and Queen sunset, skywing and silkwing, both she/her

Two queens I made for an rp a long time ago that sadly didn't work out. They do have full refs but they are on bases rn and need redone.

Queen sonne of the skywings is an older more serious queen, she is known for being harsh and no nonsense.

Queen sunset of the silkwings is a very young queen. She was her mothers only daughter and her mother sadly passed early. Sunset is under constant pressure from a group of nobles each trying to dictate laws to their own interest. Sunset is currently trying to find her voice and looks up to queen Sonne a lot.

So there's a handful of my own ocs ❤️ some need to to be reworked and refs re drawn but I still love them

#wings of fire #wings of fire oc #wof ocs #wof

[ginnsbaker]

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (1/?)

Summary: Sequel to In Flames I Sleep Soundly; After the divorce, Wanda refuses to give you up. 

Chapter word count: 5k+

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Masturbation

Author’s Note: So... this AU wouldn’t leave me. For my new readers, you don’t have to read the first installment . This can be read as a standalone. Title is based on lyrics of “This Love” by Taylor Swift

AO3 | Masterlist

Taglist: @blackluthxr | @esposadejoyhuerta​

Next Chapter: Two

One

It’s not a god damn funeral, Wanda thinks as she stares at her black outfit.

With a huff, she makes the quick decision to reach for the zipper near the curve of where her spine becomes her head, and then pulls it down so hastily it gets out of track and refuses to budge further than her waist.

Shit, Wanda curses under her breath, wiggling her arms from its sleeves, which isn’t exactly difficult given her recent weight loss. At first she tries to shimmy her body out of the dress, but she only succeeds in getting stuck further and sweating under her pits. Unfortunately the weight loss didn’t happen around her middle, and she also couldn’t get it to move upwards and over her head. The options are to either fix the zipper or destroy the dress. Wanda picks the latter.

Grabbing a pair of scissors, she starts to frantically cut through the silky material. Her heart races as she terrorizes the dress with fervor–grunting Sokovian words she’s surprised she still remembers–until the dress pools at her feet in tatters. Wanda feels her energy depleted after, and she crawls on the bed to lie face down, on her stomach. 

To some degree, her recent outbursts are gradually becoming a concern, especially since she’s back in her old Manhattan neighborhood. The smallest, most insignificant things tick her off, and a densely populated city like New York is filled with them.

Like last week, when she was shopping at Trader Joe’s, and someone kept hitting her backside with their cart while waiting at the counter. 

“I swear to god, if you don’t lay the fuck off–” Wanda’s ears burned when she looked over her shoulder and saw a frail, old woman who looked like she didn't have many years left in her. 

“I’m sorry.” Wanda croaked out and then pressed her lips in a straight hard line. 

“Oh, it’s alright. We all have bad days. But sweetheart,” The old woman warmly smiled at her and then leaned closer as if to share a secret. “You need to get laid.” She added like she’s giving some age-old, archaic advice. 

Wanda’s smile in return was pasty, and she hurried to remove almost half of the stuff(not without receiving a dirty look from an employee who had to put them all back) in her basket so she could leave the counter as soon as possible. 

The mysterious universe had a dark sense of humor. It was sex that brought her to this manic-depressive, freak-out-at-a-grocery-store behavior, and to be told by a stranger that she needed more of it was just the icing on top of this tremendous fuckery of a year she’s had. 

Wanda turns on her back and closes her eyes for a minute. She doesn’t even know why she’s wasted an hour of choosing what to wear for the day she gets legally separated from you. And yet she couldn’t help but give an extra effort to look good for you. All she knows is the days she gets to see you are rare. She can count on one hand the times you’ve met since that fateful lunch at the diner back in Westview. She needs to look her best in these opportunities. 

She needs to look her best, and hopes you’d notice.

Glancing back at her wide-open wardrobe, that’s when she spots it. Hiding in the furthermost end of her rack, is a decade-old sundress she’s kept all this time. 

The memory rises unbidden to her mind, before she could stop it. 

It was the dress she wore on her first date with you. She recalls picking it specifically because it’s green. She wanted it to match her eyes–your favorite part of her body. It made you gape. It made you go almost stupid with want, forgetting the way to the restaurant where you made reservations because you wouldn’t stop staring at her. 

By the end of that night though, the dress was lost somewhere along the trip from the door to the bedroom.

“Aren’t we moving too fast?” You whispered against her swollen lips, breaking the kiss while your hands roamed all over her shaking frame. Wanda merely moaned and put her lips to your neck, kissing every inch of available skin to her. 

You’ve known each other for years. It didn’t feel like you were moving too fast. Rather, it was a culmination of sorts–seemingly platonic hugs that lasted just a tad longer than they should, the way your eyes always found each other in a crowded room, kisses on the cheek that came too close to the mouth. And not to mention, the other people you’ve both dated in those times of being more than friends but less than lovers. 

The pace was actually agonizingly slow. A slow burn that had put all other slow burns to shame.

You directed Wanda back to your mouth and the kiss that ignited again is its own kind of sex. God, she never really understood the fuzz about making out because her sexual experiences in the past didn’t really pay much attention to foreplay. For a while, she was simply content with the sliding of lips and tongues. But then you dropped to the floor and began pulling down her soaked thong, while your dilated eyes never left hers.

Wanda’s breath hitched at seeing you fall to your knees and gaze at her with incomparable reverence. How could you worship her when you yourself were so achingly beautiful?

She needed you to touch her soon or she’d go crazy. “Please.”

Her panties only made it past one ankle before you dove in to taste her for the first time. 

Wanda of the present comes at the ghost sensation of your tongue against her throbbing clit. In truth, it’s just her fingers that brought her to climax while she kneels at the center of her bed, her ruined underwear down past her thighs. She bucks her hips a couple of more times before falling back to the mattress, spent. 

That old lady was right. An orgasm does help.

-

The divorce is final. 

Today, she signed away any legal right she has as your partner. As for everyone else in the meeting room, it’s just another ordinary day to dissolve a marriage.

Wanda’s wearing the sundress that sort of accidentally gave her release this morning. You keep looking at her, no wonder trying to figure out why the dress looks so familiar. And Wanda can’t look at you straight in the eye without blushing. 

You came in with your ever reliable back-up: Natasha. Now that you’re no longer married to her, Wanda’s insecurities about the true nature of your relationship with Natasha has come up to the surface. The way Natasha would pat your back and ask you if you’re alright. The way she’d ask you if you’d like something to drink. The way she also knows you take your coffee black with three teaspoons of brown sugar.

The way she’s just always there. 

It annoys her enough that you said Natasha was your person, because then what was she to you? The title of soulmate triumphs over wife, and Wanda wants to be both. She wants all the titles. 

Well, maybe not all. She definitely doesn’t want to be called your ex-wife. But she’ll accept the reality for your sake. She wasn’t lying when she’d said she’ll give you everything you want, even if it puts her on the sidelines.

“Hey, do you want to get coffee?” Wanda breaks the spell of silence that lasted some five minutes when your lawyers and Natasha left the room to give you two a moment. 

She immediately wants to take back her words when you look at her  incredulously like she had grown another head on her lithe, sagged shoulders. 

“Seriously?” you say, and spitefully chuckle. 

Wanda says nothing, just resorts to quietly admiring you in a skirt suit she’s never seen you wear before. In the short time you’ve both been separated, she’s noticed little changes of yours that makes her homesick for you. You will wear new clothes and shoes, get a new haircut, try a new hobby, walk a certain way, and then all these changes will pile up until you become this inconceivable stranger. Still beautiful–but a stranger nonetheless. She knows the consequences of her actions are harder on you, but maybe, just maybe, it’s equally hard for her too. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” you sigh, despondent. “Maybe for you it’s not, but today is the worst day of my life, Wanda. Or second. Or third. I don’t know. There’s so many of them recently, but this is definitely in the top three. I just want to be alone.” 

Wanda will never get used to the way you’re now just either angry or tired of dealing with her. She’s afraid to reassess the odds of getting you back and finding out it’s worse than zero. 

“Right,” Wanda says, looking down at her feet. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You hum in response.

“It is, you know?” Wanda says.

You shoot her a quizzical look. 

“It’s hard for me too,” Wanda clarifies. “I spent all morning picking out what to wear and getting all dolled-up, in desperate hopes you’d–you’d change your mind at the last minute.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel bad, or–”

“No,” Wanda cuts in in panic. Somehow she keeps saying the wrong things. “It’s hard for me. Because it’s the end for our marriage when all I want is to be with you right now.”

You avert your gaze and nod solemnly at her as if you understood. 

Do you?

Do you, perhaps, feel the same way? Or is she the only one still in love?

“I’m sorry for being a jerk,” you say, eyes downcast still refusing to meet her eyes. “I know it’s unfair for me to act like I’m the only one who’s hurting. I just–I’m tired of being angry and sad and lost all the time. And it doesn’t exactly help when you’re around. For once, I want to feel something else and I need to be alone to figure it out.”

I want to move on from you, is what Wanda thinks you really want to say and her eyes well up. This time, she prays you don’t glance her way. She might just break down right in front of you if you do. She’s never known this kind of desolation. And she only has herself to blame. 

For once, she’s thankful for Natasha’s presence when she interrupts the moment, asking if you’re ready to leave.

“I am.” you tell Natasha. You get up and round the long table to approach Wanda. She could no longer stop the tears from falling when she felt you place your hand softly on her shoulder. The touch is so featherlight, it may as well just be her imagination. 

“Thank you for giving me the best years of my life. Goodbye, Wanda.”

The pain that racks her entire body causes her to visibly shake. She has no idea how she’s still alive at this point. Not for the first time, she desperately wishes for a do-over. But the clock only moves forward, and it’s still moving to take you away. 

Maybe time will also be the one to bring you back someday.

-

Two Months Later

Wanda hasn’t seen you since the divorce. Not once. Nor has she heard from you at all. While you didn’t downright reject her when she had told you that she’d try to get you back, her unanswered texts and unreturned calls should be more than enough to tell her otherwise. 

Her only consolation is that you haven’t blocked her number yet. A few days after she last saw you, she texted to remind you to pick up the last of your things she has in possession. Natasha showed up at her door the very next morning, which confirms you still get her texts. The items are inconsequential in nature, but Wanda had the hardest time putting them in a box. 

She spent an unnecessary amount of time arranging your hardbound books alphabetically (“It’s just not the same, but a Kindle user would never understand.” you’d explain to her whenever you’d shop for more) and cleaning each protector of your small collection of Funko toys (“A dozen more of those and you won’t have space left in your side of the cabinet. What does that leave you with?” Wanda would reprimand you after seeing a shopping bag full of them in the trunk of the car. “Happiness.” you’d reply with a sheepish grin).

She smiled contritely after she had sealed the package; how ironic that she terribly missed the things about you she’s the least fond of. It’s as if the grieving doesn’t have an end. And if she had known you’d send Natasha to retrieve them, she wouldn’t have given them away. She wanted to keep them–wants to keep more of you as much as possible. Wanda wouldn’t call herself a masochist though. Not really. 

Because it’s not over yet. It will take as long as it needs to, and it won’t matter. Patience is her utmost virtue. 

And Wanda believes you feel the same, because there are midnights where her phone would ring from an unknown number. She’d answer and listen to shaky, shallow breaths for a minute before the person on the other line ends the call. It couldn’t be anyone else but you, could it? These moments are always hazy, however, muddled by wine and prescription pills. But Wanda swears they happen. 

The days aren’t so bleak when she pretends she’s still your wife, and you’re just in some faraway place–like a soldier that has gone to war, she’s left to count the days until she’s in your arms again. She goes about her routine as she’s always done when the two of you were still together; go for a run in the mornings, have eggs and toast for breakfast, and then walk Sparky in the afternoon. Her evenings, excruciating and long, are the loneliest hours. Sleep won’t come easy to her, if it comes at all. Her heart mostly breaks as well for Sparky, who still waits by the door around the time you used to arrive home from work. He’d patiently wait there until Wanda would call for him, or fall asleep in the exact same spot. And it’s not like she can talk to him and explain why you won’t come home. All Wanda can do is wait for Sparky to forget this learned behavior or forget you.

So, for the past two months, she’s been taking it one day at a time. It’s now the only way she knows how to survive. It’s working so far, she muses, as she stands before the proof of it while carrying Sparky under her arm, right in the middle of a quiet street in Queens. 

Wanda had loaned the capital for the business right after the divorce papers were signed, and when she got the alimony from it, it was more than enough to pay back the loan in full and still for some change.

She wanted to create something out of what she had destroyed. 

And that’s how the borough’s first Sokovian café came to be. Or at least will come to be when the renovations are finally completed. She can’t see much through the scaffolding that is still in place, but she can make out what it would look like once it’s officially open to the public.

Her contractor and fellow Sokovian migrant, Mr. Jacobs spots her from where he is installing the signage. “Ms. Maximoff!”

Wanda smiles up at him, brushing her bangs away from her sight. The haircut is recent and she kind of regrets it. “Is everything okay around here?”

“I believe so. There’s still some electrical stuff to finish, but I’m confident we’ll be done before your opening.” he tells Wanda.

Sparky starts squirming against Wanda’s hold. “Is it okay to come inside or should I come back another day?” Wanda asks.

“Of course. I had my boys clear out the area and install the A/C last night, so you should be comfortable.”

Perfect. She’s yet to test out the oven she ordered, and there are some new recipes she’d like to try. 

“And Ms. Maximoff?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t worry, this place is going to do great. They’re gonna love you and our culture.”

A feeling of warmth spreads through Wanda’s chest. “Thank you, Mr. Jacobs.” He gives her a salute before going back to work.

Wanda’s not ready for the emotion that consumes her when she steps inside her new café. She puts Sparky down on the hardwood flooring, and his nose immediately gets to work, sniffing every corner of the room he could find–which isn’t all that long to cover for a regular-sized Jack Russell Terrier like him. The rented space is relatively small, so Wanda had to be smart with its interior design; a long bench stretches from the open kitchen and counter to about two feet from the entrance, spanning two round dining tables that could sit two people at a time; by the window wall facing the street, is a high top table with two chairs. At most, three staff(including her) could fit in the open kitchen, along with a single espresso machine and a wall oven. All in all, the café can accommodate about six customers dining in at a time, which is why she’s hoping she’d do better with take-outs. 

Wanda did all the decorations herself, top to bottom. The floral ceilings are a combination of autumn colors–your favorite season–and pendant lights subtly drop from them to emit a faint, yellow glow. The polished concrete wall of the dining area gives it an industrial vibe, while red brick tiles clad the panels of the kitchen area. For the finishing touches, Wanda decided to place a variety of potted plants in every corner of the room. 

Standing at the center of it all, Wanda feels a sense of pride and fulfillment–something that seemed implausible to her just a few months before.

"Best coffee in the world. Maybe you should start a café business." You’d joke sometimes whenever she makes you coffee in the morning.

A shadow passes over her eyes as she looks out the window. Needless to say, there’s only one thing missing in it. The person she wants next to her when all her dreams come true.

You.

–

Pietro finishes a whole batch of white chocolate macadamia cookies by himself. Wanda’s twin brother flew in last weekend, a rare occurrence since she only sees him once a year at most. He’d be home in the holidays for dinner, and be gone the following day. He lives with a suitcase, and never stays in a city for longer than two weeks. Wanda wasn’t expecting he’d visit her after she broke the news of her divorce, knowing he had gone through the same ordeal twice already without fuss. Apparently, it’s a run-of-the-mill life event for her brother, and it almost did not make it to their bimonthly check-in calls. 

“You’re gonna have to pay me for those.” Wanda tells him. She’s crouched on the floor, feeding Sparky strips of dried meat as she takes a break between baking and practicing her Youtube-acquired skill of Latte Art.

“I thought it’s a welcome home gift.” Pietro says, licking off the crumbs from his fingers. With the bleach in his hair extending to his medium stubbles, their resemblance is close to nonexistent. 

“You earn ten times more than I do in a year.”

“So? What is family for if not free food?”

“It’s $52 dollars.” Wanda says.

Pietro hands her a hundred dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

Wanda smirks at him, pocketing the money in her apron. “I intended to.” She passes him a napkin, and gestures at his chin. He waves her off in a pompous manner, and instead, goes to the back of the shop to clean himself up. She didn’t think it’s possible to both know and not know someone at the same time. To look at them and see who they are versus who you think they’re supposed to be. In terms of money and status, he is miles ahead of Wanda, but perhaps at the cost of being unable to find the brother she shared her childhood with in Sokovia. Wanda’s not sure if he still exists beneath the layers of branded suits and expensive perfumes, she just knows she misses him terribly. 

“Second Chances,” Pietro proclaims as he returns a minute later, waving his hands wildly with an imitation of a fanfare. “A little corny if you ask me.”

“Well, I’m not asking you,” Wanda contends and then proceeds to scrub the empty tray that Pietro left in the wake of his cookie binge. “It’s a good name. People can interpret it however they want.”

“And you? What was on your mind when you came up with it?”

Wanda doesn’t answer that. 

“So,” Pietro jumps into a sitting position on the counter and lets his legs dangle from its edge. 

“How’s the quarter-life crisis, sis?”

Wanda cocks an eyebrow and gives him a once over. “Better than yours. All things considered.” 

Sparky comes up to him and stands on his hind legs to snuffle at his shiny loafers. 

“Touché,” Pietro laughs good-naturedly and crosses his legs to avoid the dog’s attention. “It’s weird though, seeing you get into this kind of thing.”

“What do you mean?” Wanda asks.

“You’re not a salesperson, Wands. Remember your girl scout days? Dad would buy all your cookies because you can’t sell for shit.”

Wanda snorts noisily through her nose. “Mom can’t bake for shit.” She notices the smile fall from his lips at the offhand jab at her brother’s favored parent. 

Wanda sighs. When she does get glimpses of the old Pietro, it’s mostly through negative triggers. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to–” Wanda starts to apologize but Pietro quickly changes the subject without a preamble.

“You’re really not going to talk about it?” 

“About what?”

“Playing dumb isn’t a good look on you.”

Wanda suddenly drops the tray on the sink, the violent sound of metal hitting metal giving both of them a minor headache. She pauses to think, and then says, “How about you just ask me straight instead of skirting around the topic of she-who-must-not-be-named?”

“Okay,” Pietro says in an annoyingly placid tone. “What were you thinking, cheating on Y/N?”

Wanda swallows dryly. She did ask him to be blunt.

“I wasn’t. There’s… I don’t know how to explain it. There’s this missing gap, and I acted to fill that gap.” 

“Was it something that’s missing in your relationship?” Pietro asks and props his cheek on his palm. The question is so familiar to her because she’s asked it herself countless times, the day she kissed Vision for the first time. There wasn’t an epiphany nor were there pieces falling into place when she had slept with him. And when she thought she loved him, it wasn’t because she thought she loved you any less. She came to the conclusion, not too long ago, that perhaps there’s just something rotten inside of her that she simply wasn’t aware of. 

Wanda shakes her head, weary at making sense of herself and her decision to risk everything she’s built with you for something as cheap as a fling. “None of this was her fault. Her only mistake was falling for someone who’s way beneath her.”

“I always thought she’s too good for you, no offense.”

Wanda’s smile is brittle as she recalls how Pietro’s toast at the wedding started with that exact sentence, word-for-word. You had squeezed Wanda’s clammy hand as you listened to Pietro rant about Wanda, and jokingly express his regret that you married the lesser twin. Wanda apologized for his tactlessness, and you responded with a kiss to her cheek, telling her how wrong he was, how you were only good and she made you better. 

“I’m sorry, Wands,” Pietro tells her earnestly. “I can’t say I’ve been through the same thing even with two divorces under my belt. I don’t think I’ve ever been in love with someone the way you both were with each other–or at least, the way she was in love with you.”

“Thanks, but that's not necessary. I’m going to fix it.” she says. 

It stings–the implication that Wanda was incapable of matching your love for her. But it only stings because it’s the truth. You deserve to be happy and she failed.  And yet, she also can’t survive the thought of you getting the happiness you deserve from someone else. After all this time, her selfishness hasn’t been tamed. 

Which is why Pietro’s next words hit her right in the gut. “Divorce can’t be fixed. Hell, it’s the only resolution for a terminal relationship. And hasn’t it crossed your mind that perhaps, she’s already met someone else?”

Wanda gives up on her search for the rolling pin. She cracks some eggs in a bowl and starts to furiously whisk by hand.

Maybe she’s an awful person for assuming you won’t be able to move on from her that easily. 

But that’s just how she sees it. 

“No.” she says.

“What makes you so sure?”

“I know her, Piet.”

Pietro starts clapping in slow, steady beats. “She divorces you and you’re still so smug about how she’s so crazy about you.” he says. 

“If you’ve ever felt loved by someone like her, you’d understand.”

Pietro ignores his sister’s underhanded attempt to hurt him back. He came to terms with the reality ages ago, that he’s probably not one of the lucky ones who will get to experience the kind love that Wanda boasts about with you. Maybe he had it once, not necessarily in a romantic sense. But when he thinks of love–real love–he thinks of no one but their estranged mother. 

“Or maybe,” He jumps off the counter to retrieve his coat hanging from one of the dining chairs.  “Love goes away eventually.”

“Not ours.”

Pietro couldn’t help the maniac laughter that escapes his throat. “Are you hearing yourself right now? Do you know how pathetic you sound?”

Wanda purses her lips, continues whisking. 

“Okay, how about this. If you really love her, then you’d at least want her to be happy, even if it’s not with you.” Pietro tries to reason. 

“Oh, so you’re suddenly an expert on the topic.”

“I’m a dick, not an asshole. And yes, there’s a difference.”

Wanda keeps working the whisk like a madwoman. Large amounts of bubbles are forming in the emulsion, and overbeating the egg mixture is definitely not in the recipe.

Pietro continues, “Yeah, I’m a cheater, same as you are–”

“Don’t you dare–” Wanda suddenly tosses the whisk on the worktop, a glint of something dangerous in her green eyes. 

“Let me finish,” Pietro appeases lightly. “I’m a cheater. I cheated on my ex-wives. But when I look in the mirror, I don’t see myself as some anti-hero who has the potential to be an actual hero and become the person they deserve to be with. Because I’ll never be that guy.”

“We’re not the same. We share a birthday, but that’s where the similarities end.”

“We share the same DNA, Wanda,” Pietro smiles through his frustration. Excessive stubbornness–another quality innate to Maximoffs. “But that’s not the point. You know she’d be better off without you. As cliché as it sounds, the only way you can actually show her you love her is by letting her go–completely.”

The shuddering sigh that escapes her is immediately followed by erratic sobs that go out of control fast. Pietro is right there in an instant, an arm thrown over her shoulder as her whole body jerks, rasping for air. 

“Shit, I’m sorry.” he murmurs into her crown. “You’ll be okay, Wands. I promise…you’ll be okay.”

“Will you be okay if I leave you here? I have to meet someone in a few.” 

Wanda heard you say in earnest. She lost herself for a while, stunned by the kindest pair of eyes she’d ever seen. The day flew by so quickly in your company, she hadn’t realized it was time to go. And to think that she almost skipped freshman orientation because going to New York University wasn’t exactly the plan. Columbia was–where her boyfriend was a junior. 

Her boyfriend, who she forgot texted her an hour ago asking if she was ready to go, and hadn’t heard back from her.

“Y-Yeah, my boyfriend is on the way to pick me up.” she mumbled, distracted by the glow of the sunset forming a halo around your head. You were beautiful in a way that was not entirely evident at first. Wanda was curious if anybody else had made the same discovery.

“It was nice meeting you, Wanda.”

“Likewise, Y/N.” she smiled like she’d been doing all day with you, and so frequently, that the muscles on her face were beginning to hurt a little. 

The smile you returned her way was glorious, but in a flash you were already walking away. Wanda couldn’t describe the way she fervently despised watching you go, especially without your number on her phone and no means to contact you in the future.  

“Y/N?” Wanda called out. Her heart seemed to swell and swing against her rib cage. 

“Yes?”

“Do you, maybe, want to hang out sometime?”

And the kindest eyes that ever looked at her gave the answer. 

Pietro leaves shortly after the tremors subside and her breathing returns to normal. The panic attacks aren’t that frequent, but she does get them now from time-to-time. They started right after the night you gave Wanda your wedding ring. 

With her brother gone, Wanda is left to wonder if you’ve met someone. She is left to wonder if you’re no longer miserable like she is, if you’ve taken considerable strides in moving on with your life. She tries calling you. Not to talk, but just to check if you still haven’t blocked her number. After several rings, you don’t pick up as expected. Not a setback. Not a progress either. She pretends you’re asleep or in the shower. She pretends you mean to call her back, but forgets to. 

And if a confirmation of not being blocked is all she gets, she’ll take it.

She’ll take what you can give even if it’s nothing.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #ifiss 2 #ilgoss #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #marvel #unbetad #My writing #my fic

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

diasomnia ice-cream parlor au doodles

[Referencing this post!]

Hello, yes, I’ve been thinking about the Diasomnia ice-cream parlor AU again 🍨🍦 I guess I must have been really hungry lately www

I see them as offering not just ice-cream, bur also variants like gelato, shaved ice, milkshakes, etc. (They can afford it with support from the Draconia royal family’s funds 😂) The focus here will be ice-cream though, just because that’s Malleus’s favorite.

Imagine walking in and not knowing what to order (there’s so much to choose from!), so you ask the staff to pick something for you… (Yes, I’ve thought about this way too much and now I’m going to shovel this at you—)

Malleus strikes me as a very traditional and old-fashioned guy, so I’d see him falling back on ol’ reliable. You can’t go wrong with a classic sugar cone and a healthy scoop on top!

He recommends mint chocolate chip because it adds an additional pleasant cooling sensation to the actual coldness of ice-cream. Malleus is fond of the flavor himself; it’s great for cooling down a mouth that’s hot from breathing flames!

You’re brave if you accept anything Lilia hands you… You ask him what this is (the ice-cream looks… discolored in some places, and there’s all this weird stuff jutting out from it; is that a piece of lettuce???). He just winks at you and calls it “Lilia-chan’s Super Cute ⭐️ Special”, featuring a bunch of “unique” flavors he created himself.

It comes served in a cup because it’s easier to eat it while walking that way. For Lilia, who is a well-seasoned traveler, foods that are able to be eaten on the go are a plus!

Silver picks out a waffle bowl (it resembles a sturdy bird’s nest) and encourages you to try a lot of different things. It’ll help you to gain an appreciation for the new and unfamiliar! With how wide the waffle bowl is and how many flavors and toppings are in there, this can be good for sharing with friends from all over.

The particular version featured in the doodle has three kinds of ice-cream, each one representing one of the three Good Fairies. A pink flavor, a blue flavor, and a green flavor—maybe rose or strawberry, blueberry or cotton candy, and pistachio? It’s a very naturey palate.

His animal friends have helped with the ingredients; there’s honey drizzled on top, as well as crushed nuts. Freshly picked berries and edible flowers garnish the bowl too—oh, and we can’t forget a generous chunk of honeycomb!

… I don’t know much about Kingdom Hearts, but I’ve heard that Silver resembles Riku from KH?? So maybe Silver can offer some sea salt ice-cream too as a throwback 😂

… Was anyone surprised by this? No? No.

Sebek chose a tall parfait glass for serving so that the dessert can be as tall as possible. It’s a matcha and ube soft serve, swirled high. The green is Diasomnia’s color, and the purple is meant to be the color of the underside of Malleus’s cape. (Sebek wanted to include black ice-cream to for the Draconia royal color, but couldn’t find a good flavor.)

Art isn’t his forte, but Sebek did his best to “recreate the imposing, elegant image of wakasama” in his dessert. The cherry on top, flanked by two conical chocolate pieces, are meant to be Malleus and his horns. The wafer poking out is supposed to “enhance the young master’s presence”. All the other things are extra details in an effort to make the ice-cream larger than life: candied fruit peels arranged in a line (to resemble the spines on a dragon’s tail), mochi balls (“magestones”) piled to one side, and a chocolate biscuit stick + wafer that, together, look like Malleus’s staff.

Sebek tried really hard! … He will aggressively try to sell you on this item.

If you’re really hungry or with a large group, why not go for the Diasomnia Family Fundae? It’s their take on a sundae, served in a glass boat. There’s a whole banana, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and three maraschino cherries! The bramble is made of dark chocolate.

Each student is represented by one scoop and a little candy or chocolate that helps to characterize the boy (horns, bat wings, lightning bolt, or sword). Sebek is a lemon-like sherbet, befitting of his loud, in-your-face personality. Lilia is a bright red berry flavor (strawberries, cherries, cranberries, etc.), like his favorite red juices, deep and complex. Silver is vanilla bean, pure, simple, and earnest. (He could also be a subtle lavender flavor, since that's a flower known to ease you into sleep.) And Malleus… well, that scoop is a pitch black, but the flavor is something you can’t quite place your tongue on. It’s a mystery, just like he is! (Maybe the shop changes the flavor every now and again. They can run a promo where if you guess the right flavor combo for that particular week’s Malleus scoop, they give you a discount or a free cone.)

A lot of chocolate sauce is dripping down from the Malleus scoop; this is because the sauce is supposed to be his “blot”. The bottom three scoops—Lilia, Sebek, and Silver—are blanketed by the chocolate thorns as a reference to how those three were sentenced to sleep.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Malleus Draconia #Diasomnia #twst AU #twisted wonderland AU #AU #notes from the writing raven #my art #Lilia Vanrouge #Silver #Sebek Zigvolt #spoilers #Kingdom Hearts #KH Riku #Kingdom Hearts Riku #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst

[flametrashiraarchive]

RENGOKU FLUFF [sfw]

I had this random little scenario pop into my head while I was working today so... here you go...

(I'm still working on the Sanemi fic- this is just a cute little warm up exercise)

You're fairly new to the demon slayer corps, but you've shown enough promise that you've earned the honor of being chosen to accompany a hashira on his mission. 

The moment you see the pillar you know he can't be anyone other than the flame hashira. His hair and eyes are bright and fiery, his haori, legwraps, and sword all emblazoned with flame designs.

"What gave it away?" he jokes with you.

"Oh, I have excellent intuition."

He laughs. Loudly. 

You've hardly known him a day and he far outranks you, but he talks to you like an old friend. He does it with everyone, and still somehow manages to make you feel special for it. 

You're immediately loyal to him and immediately smitten.

The two of you talk about everything; from slaying demons to your favorite onigiri seasonings. Despite the long arduous march to your destination, your heart feels light and warm. 

But five days later your shoes are rubbing and you've walked more than a hundred miles at his side. Your feet are swollen and aching. You can't help but feel frustrated. Gritting your teeth, you try to keep your discomfort hidden. But one afternoon as you make camp, Kyojuro catches sight of your blistered, swollen feet and his permanent smile drops. 

"This isn't good," he says, crouching in front of you with nothing but concern in his golden eyes. "We still have a long way to go and I don't want you to be uncomfortable. Maybe soaking them in the river will help reduce the swelling?"

It's only the beginning of winter but the water is already ice cold. It's going to suck, but you'd rather suffer it than let him down. You gasp and recoil as you dip your toes in, trying to summon the strength to submerge your feet fully.

Kyojuro chuckles and sits on the ground beside you, unfastening his leg wraps and taking off his socks and sandals. 

He takes your hand in his; so warm and firm, and despite the roughness caused by a lifetime of dedicated swordsmanship, his touch is somehow the softest thing you've ever known.

"We're in this together," he assures you, putting his feet in the freezing water. A muscle in his jaw leaps as he does it, but his smile never fades.

Following his lead, you do it too. And it helps.

The cold water really does soothe your aching feet, even if it is unpleasant at first. Kyojuro takes it as an opportunity to demonstrate breathing techniques, to calm your body and become aware of the energy flowing through every cell. Everything is a chance to learn, to improve, to grow.

"You're doing well," he says brightly. "I'm impressed by your ability to endure."

His praise refills your will.

When he notices you shivering, he puts his arm over your shoulder, wrapping his haori over the two of you, sharing his warmth. 

"There. It's not so bad, is it?" he says. Whether he's trying to convince you or himself you're not entirely sure. 

"No," you reply, leaning against him and feeling instantly comforted as a smile spreads across your lips. When you look up at him, his smile is brighter and warmer than any fire. "No, this isn't bad at all."

#rengoku #rengoku x reader #rengoku kyoujurou x reader #rengoku fanfic #kimetsu kyojuro #kimetsu rengoku #rengoku headcanons #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyōjurō #rengoku fluff #rengoku drabble

[urrockstar-xe]

sneaking out - t.c x fem!reader

posted jan 21st, 2024 10:50 am

@dingus85 asked : May I request a Tara Carpenter x fem!reader based on Cruel Summer- Taylor Swift where they have been sneaking out to the beach every night (scenario 5). This time they’re just being stupid, and reader accidentally confesses that she likes her. Somewhere in the fic Tara uses one liner 18.

im so sorry for the wait love, I hope u enjoy.

masterlist

not proofread

wordcount: 0.9k

It was Chad’s idea to have one big group vacation for the summer, a simple nearly 50-hour road trip from New York to California. A few weeks on the beach to help everyone recover from the first semester of college and some time for Sam and Tara to learn how to be away from each other again.

Every small-town kid needs a Beach Vacation, right? Well actually, your plans for the summer were to find a good job but just when you wanted to argue, Mindy pointed out that you could share a room with Tara, and Tara responded by clapping her hands together, smiling at you and

“We’ll have so much fun!” 

How could you say no to that?

Everyone had taken turns driving, except for Mindy, her job was to make sure everyone had enough snacks and to ensure you’d make it to the Airbnb in one piece.

You were lucky enough to find one on the beach, giving easy access to the water and the sand that Mindy soon found to be an incredible nuisance, Anika was enjoying the chance to dress up in different beach weather outfits and there was also the perfect spot to play volleyball which Chad forced everyone to do.

And then there were you and Tara, you had the same favorite part of this vacation and it was the late-night bonfires.

You had only one with all of you involved but the following night you both snuck out together to start up another one, and this quickly became routine for the both of you.

You couldn’t help but enjoy this silly game you were playing in your head even if Tara didn’t realize you were playing at all. Sharing a bed, waking up early enough to make breakfast, making the bed, and taking turns to shower after beach days just to sneak off and come back smelling like firewood. 

It was perfect for you, and maybe it was for Tara too, but obviously, you weren’t going to ask. 

Tonight was one of your last nights in California and none of you were ready to leave, except Mindy, who wanted to go home the first week. But of course, you were most worried about going home, everything would go back to normal and you could no longer live in your little bubble with Tara and her soft smiles and giggly laughs,

and your little sneak-out “dates” that were just for you and Tara.

But that just meant you had to make the most of it, which leads you outside sitting on an old beach towel next to the pretty girl, watching the pit of flames dance before your eyes. 

“I’m not ready to go home yet, I like sneakin’ out with you.” Tara’s voice caught your attention, turning to look at her as she spoke. She was thinking the same as you. “We could always sneak out together back in New York” You spoke in the same quiet tone, as if you weren’t allowed to speak louder than the sound of the sea.

Tara pouted, “It’s not the same, though.” Oh. You nodded in agreement looking back at the fire. 

“I wanna go swimming,” She said suddenly, standing up and taking off her sweater, well your sweater, you had let her wear. “Tara, you’ll freeze” You smiled, knowing she wouldn’t listen anyway as she was already walking towards the water, tossing her sweatpants to you as you laughed. 

You watched amused as she eventually made it to the water, she hesitated, “C’mon, my girl Tara Carpenter doesn’t back down from stupid stuff!” You called out in a teasing tone, hearing her laugh as she threw her head back before running straight into the water, “Holy shit!” she yelled, squealing as she resurfaced.

You laughed as Tara ran back up to you, soaking wet and gratefully thanking you as you put the towel around your shoulders. “That was so stupid” she laughed, shivering slightly as you rubbed her arms, laughing with her as you attempted to warm her up. 

“That is why I like you so much” You had barely noticed the words come out as Tara’s smile softened, staring at you with a tilted head and puppy dog eyes. “What?” Tara’s voice was quieter now, still having a slightly shaky tone as she was still freezing. 

“What?” you repeated the question, you could backtrack, sure but Tara wasn’t stupid, she wouldn’t believe that no matter how well you sold it she saw it in your eyes, 

you’re so screwed, you almost laughed.

“What did you say? You like me?” Tara’s grip on the towel tightened a little, that soft look on her face capturing you the way it always did. You opened your mouth to speak but closed it, not knowing how to explain yourself in a way that made sense but Tara spoke up instead.

“Come here and kiss me, dummy” She smiled, and you didn’t want to waste any time as your hands moved to her face and pulled her in, cold, soft lips hitting yours as if they were meant to be on yours. Tara abandoned the towel to hold your wrists. 

“You are so catching a cold,” You said through heavy breaths earning a sweet laugh in response.

“Yeah, but you’ll take care of me.” you smiled at that because obviously you would.

“Yeah, I will.” You said, Tara smiled back.

“I think I will sneak out with you back in New York.”

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x female reader #scream x reader #scream imagines #scream imagine #scream fanfiction #tara carpenter imagine #Spotify

[bendydudeinc]

This is my first time asking for something, but could you write about Izuku x Reader trapped in a small space, perhaps like a quirk accident that happened, and Izuku and reader were both trapped in a box or room, it could be anything. Or like after class and have to hide in a cabinet or anything related to that ig. If you want, of course, could I be smut. It's up to you if you want to add kinks, but I really like this idea, and I've had it for a while. I hope ots not weird. Thanks, and good luck! ☆

I gotchu😏 I got a bit ahead of myself with this one, hopefully it isn’t too far off what you wanted!

Boxed in with #1

PAIRING: Izuku x AFAB nonbinary reader

CONTENT: SMUT BARELY ANY PLOT, you and pro hero Izuku get stuck in a quirk accident together

CONTENT WARNINGs: Praise, size kink, slight public play, claiming/cum kink, sex in tight places, slight choking kink, consent is hot as hell, vocal Izuku is a sweetie during sex, reader is called darling, baby

H/n - hero name

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

You walked down the streets of Tokyo with your head up confidently, scanning for possible crime or anything abnormal. Fans pointed as their faces lit up, squealing when you turn to wave in their direction. You smiled to yourself, you loved being a hero. It made you feel so happy to see people that looked up to you, that felt moved by your ideologies and heroic efforts. You were so grateful that you made it up the hero chart so quick, but it still felt so surreal to you sometimes. So surreal that you’re really a pro hero. The number ten hero, h/n. It felt even more surreal that you graduated along side and were now working with Japan’s number one hero, Deku. You pressed on the small intercom device used for communication in your ear.

“Everything good over there number one?” The intercom sizzled before you got a response.

“Good here h/n, no new activity to report. You want to grab a bite? It’s about lunch already.”

Your face lights up, “Yeah, I’d like that. Wanna get some Katsudon?”

You giggled when he excitedly agreed, making your way to the restaurant you’d always go to together for his favorite food. You shook your head in attempt dismissal of any romantic thoughts of him. You knew that you two were just friends and worked together, but you couldn’t help the electricity you felt every time you were around him. The urge to melt into your seat whenever he made eye contact. The dorky smile that wouldn’t leave your face no matter how hard you tried as you listened to him fanboy. The warmth you felt in your heart when he showed his concern and care for you. His passionate personality and sincerity drew you like a moth to a flame. You couldn’t even help yourself from staring at his tall, strong, toned figure at times. His muscles were huge, but not obnoxious. His eyes and smile were absolutely gorgeous, you’d stare and giggle like a four year old for hours at them if you could. His jawline could probably cut the tension you had in half too. He looked like a God. You swore he’d caught you a couple times, to which you got flustered like crazy and completely brushed it off. You didn’t know he’d smirk to himself, definitely aware that you check him out. Everything about him just drove you crazy. You may have been a hero team, but the chemistry below the surface was blossoming like bunches of daisies every minute you spent together.

You arrived near the entrance to the restaurant, waving at Deku as he noticed you approaching and smiled. That expression quickly changed to seriousness and worry, and before you could ask, blue electricity formed around him and he was tackling you onto the pavement. You flinched, Deku shielding your fall as much as possible. You groaned and opened your eyes to see…nothing…..pitch black.

“Deku? Is this a villain attack?!” You started to get up to prepare for a fight, but bumped hard into Deku above you who groaned in pain, your hands then feeling around the solid cold walls at your sides that trapped you.

“I think someone’s quirk went out of control! The woman I saw across the street didn’t look like she had malicious intent, but I saw this…cement stuff coming out of both of her hands. She looked panicked.” Deku did his best to stabilize himself above you as you hit your hand against the hard cement on your sides, though to no avail.

“My quirk won’t be any good for this. You can use yours, would work perfect for this right?” You ask in a slight panic.

“Not when I’m s-so close in proximity to someone. There’s not enough space for me to safely use my power without hurting you, possibly seriously injuring you. Let’s wait here until someone can help or t-that lady figures out how to free us.”

You looked up to where his face would be in the dark, his stuttering making you now very aware of how close he is to you. You could feel his breath on your face, his legs and hips on yours. Your face burned red, and you prayed that he couldn’t see you too, or hear your breathing slowly getting heavier. You tried to shift your position but in the dark, not so easy. You nudged Deku off his balance, making him fall directly on top of you. His head fell into in the crook of your neck, waist and chest pressing against yours snuggly. The feel of his lips right next to your skin sent chills down your spine, butterflies pooling in your lower tummy. You bit your lip hard. He made a surprised sound and quickly propped himself on both of his forearms. You heard him start to stammer out an apology, but your body reacted without you being able to control it. You sighed out loud, your hips slightly rocking up to grind against his; too overwhelmed by the excitement of finally feeling him against you to realize what you’re doing.

“H-hey, what are you- crap.” His arms flexed on either sides of your head. You wanted to cry. You were so embarrassed, but you didn’t say anything. You were too scared too..until your eyes widened when you felt something press against your crotch. All fears of judgement and embarrassment slowly disappeared. Did he…like this?

He made a quiet noise of arousal as he began to cautiously grind down onto you, “You…you sneaky thing. Oh gods~”

Your body flutters with pleasure at the sound, hearing him so close to your ear. It was all so good, the sexual tension building for months finally slipping as you let the heat take over. You almost couldn’t believe your best friend and the number one hero really felt this way about you like you did for him. He began kissing your neck, nipping teasingly at your skin, listening for when he hit your sensitive spots. You suck in a breath and whine, tilting your head back when he latched onto one. He groaned, pulling away slowly after leaving a nice purple mark that he’d later aqpologize for. He doesn’t know his own strength

He hummed, happy with the reaction he got from you. He continued kissing your neck, stopping to whisper sweet nothings in your ear in between. “Hey I- I’ve always wanted you. I stare at your lips a lot because I wish more than anything to kiss them. I dream about holding you, about making you feel good. Making you- making you moan my name. I want this with you. I wanna make you feel better than anyone else could ever h-hope to measure up to. Fuck- I need more of you baby, please tell me..do you want me?”

You writhed under him in response, feeling your pussy clench around nothing. He wrapped one of his hands gently around your throat, earning a hard tug on his curls. The harsh grind of his cock against you said he liked it. He tightened his grip, his long fingers sinking into the sides of your neck. You were in shock, falling headfirst deep into the hole of lust, you could barely even think.

“Answer me my darling please talk to me, I want you s-so bad. Tell me. Do you want me? Want me to make you f-feel good?” He panted, struggling to shift, but managing to grab both of your arms, pinning them at your sides as you experimentally wrapped your legs around him. You moaned, the feeling of him keeping you down making you feel so small. His erection only grew, teasing your clit as he sensually moved against you. Your thighs twitched in anticipation around him.

You want to scream with joy as you reply, “Yes! Yes I’ve always wanted you so bad, I feel the same way Deku please, keep touching me?”

He moaned at your confession, gripping your arms tighter and rutting his hips into yours. By then, your eyes had adjusted to the dark, able to make out the side of his face and some of his hair. You figured it was the same for him as he pulled back as much as he could to lock eyes with you. His beautiful green eyes glowed lime with desire when he saw how needy you looked. He grinned wide, his expression shifting to one of confidence and determination. He leaned in to kiss you, and you felt like your entire body exploded with fireworks as your lips met his. You both moaned and whined into the kiss, deepening it as he showed his dominance over you, his tongue overpowering yours. You began struggling against his hold, wanting to challenge him. He pushed down on your arms harder, re-enforcing his power over you. You moan loudly nto the kiss, and he couldn’t help but laugh, backing away to observe you.

“Y-you really like that don’t you? Knowing I can hold you down like this?” His tone was curious, but demanding. You stared into his dilated desperate eyes, nodding your head frantically.

“Mmmm, do I have consent to do whatever I want with you honey?” He cooed into your ear, making you whimper uncontrollably, bucking your hips in need for him.

“Fuck. Yes Izuku please have your way with me, I want you to fuck your cum deep inside of me and make me all yours! I’ve been waiting so long…too long..do whatever you want!”

His eyes darkened, letting out the most slutty, strangled moan you’ve ever heard. He let go of your arms, scrambling to slip off your costume from the waist down. You helped him as he balanced on one hand to unzip his as well. You still couldn’t see completely clear in the dark, but you could tell he was big as he pulled his leaking cock out. It looked really thick. It made your mind race, almost cumming right then as you imagined the stretch. He started rubbing the length up and down your swollen clit, hissing as it got coated in your slick. You were going brain dead, whining like a dog as he teased your poor desperate hole.

“Don’t worry, it’s gonna feel so good I promise darling. Gonna stretch out your wet pussy s-so good ok? I love you. I love you, gonna make you all mine baby.” All you could do was nod, practically crying for him to put it in.

He whispered in your ear, “Hang onto me.” You obliged, wrapping your arms around his large shoulders as he slipped it inside of you. The feeling was inhuman, like a rubber band was going to snap so hard inside of you it might make you see heaven. You scratched down his back hard, each inch making you see a new galaxy of stars as you cried out. He moaned loud, resisting from pounding into you. Both of you lost in this moment, completely forgot that this is happening in…public.

He groans and shivers. “Doing so good baby look at you sucking me in. Almost all the way. D-does that feel good?”

“Yes! You feel so g-good Izuku oh my god. S’big, the stretch is gonna m-make me cum~”

He blushed hard, unaware before that his dick being girthier than average could be such a turn on for somebody.

“Good. I’m so glad. Go on then, feel good b-baby cum on me. Cum on my cock so hard.” He slammed the rest of his length inside of you and began a medium pace, mouth opening in a silent scream as he heard the lewd noises your dripping cunt made. Your bodies felt so right meshing together; you moaned in harmony, your scratching motivating him to go faster. He kissed you deeply to quiet some of your screams as you came almost immediately, the pleasure of him ramming precisely into your g spot too much for you to handle. You gasped as he pulled back to catch his breath.

You needed him. More. You needed him so bad it hurt. “Oh my god- oh my god cum inside of me Izuku! Please! Fill me up, I need it! Gonna cum again with you~!”

His hips stuttered, gripping your waist with the strength to leave a mark as his eyes rolled back, whimpering into your ear as he fucked into you harder than ever. Slap slap slap could probably be heard by anyone within a twenty foot distance. He choked out a loud moan and came inside of you. His last thrust was almost unbearably rough, holding you still on his cock as it sat deep inside of you, cumming against your most sensitive spots. You were too lost in the moment to even realize he had moved slightly to play with your clit, making you squirt as he came, the rubber band snapping hard as you gushed around his cock. He collapsed completely on top of you, both of your cum and juices leaking from around his cock and down your ass and thighs. You both laid together, holding each other close and giggling from the love drunk feeling.

“Did you- did you like that?” He asked as he caught his breath, kissing your neck sweetly.

“You- you’re wondering that while you just made me squirt, Izuku.”

You both laughed and continued praising each other, almost forgetting that help was supposed to come soon. Neither of you complained

“Oh and Izuku? I love you too.”

#deku #deku smut #deku x reader #izuku smut #mha smut #mha midoriya

[sitp-recs]

HD Erised 2023 - Sitp recs

Hello hello! I’ve been trying to get back into the reading zone and Erised came at the perfect time. I thought I’d share my favorites as I slowly make my way through it, mostly to keep track of my reads and also because it’s been so long since I did a fest list (please don’t mind my very much incomplete Fan Fair list while I kick off another one 🙈 so much to read, so little time!). These were great fun and I can’t wait to see what’s coming up next!

🧹 Clear Skies, Full Hearts by @sorrybutblog (E, 16k)

Harry loves everything about playing professional Quidditch – the rush of flying, the rush of winning, the rush of getting off with rival seeker Draco Malfoy. Harry’s the highest scoring rookie Seeker in the history of the League. He’s also, inexplicably, obsessively, hooking up with Draco. When Draco unexpectedly quits the League and disappears from Harry’s life, Harry doesn’t stop wondering what it all meant and if he’ll ever get another chance to find out.

🪴 solemates by @shiftylinguini (E, 17k)

It starts because Harry has no self-control when it comes to meaningless and entertaining competition. Actually no, that's not quite right. It starts because Harry is absolutely plastered.

🎨 Thickets by @wolfpants (E, 17k)

When Draco returns to the UK after two decades of building his career as an internationally-renowned artist to look after his ailing, estranged father, he crosses paths with his former flame, Harry Potter, in the most unexpected way.

🚎 Sugarplum by @mallstars (E, 27k)

"Draco," said Potter, a little breathless, a little cheerful. "Hi." He smelled of coconut lotion, Cockroach Clusters and a sloppy ironing charm, his scent crowding Draco's overworked mind from the moment he stepped onto the bus. Lifting one hand off the steering wheel, Potter gave a small wave. He wore gloves. Fingerless, the leather black against the sunlight. Leather. In August.

🧶 we have heard on high by @oflights (E, 34k)

Reeling from the fallout of a bad breakup, Harry decides to find out who his soulmate is. The bad news: it's Draco Malfoy. The good news: Malfoy doesn't seem to know they're soulmates. The worst news: Harry might be falling for him anyway.

🇫🇷 À Bon Chat by @oknowkiss (E, 35k)

Draco Malfoy didn’t intend to lead a life of crime after the war. It’s just that being good had turned out so incomprehensibly boring. Now he's thirty-five, a fully redeemed member of society, the darling of the wizarding social pages, and a newly minted consultant for Gawain Robards' Investigative Research division. In his spare time, he enjoys good whisky, casual sex, and moonlighting as an art thief.

🥘 Nothing Gold Can Stay by @moonflower-rose (E, 40k)

One summer evening, Harry Potter vanished in the middle of dinner with his friends. Four days later he came back. Sort of. Draco Malfoy is on the case.

🐺 Jasmine in Bloom by @lqtraintracks (E, 41k)

This is not something Draco can have in his life… Potter overturning all that he’s carefully cultivated. They’re not compatible and never will be. Draco’s been playing with fire. It just so happens that he likes how Potter smoulders before being allowed close enough to burn.

⏳The Unplottable Time Conundrum by @writcraft (E, 45k)

When the past starts bleeding into the present at Grimmauld Place, an old academic article pulls Draco Malfoy out of his life of luxury. Haunted by the memory of a fleeting post-war kiss and thrust into the ghostly spaces inhabited by Unspeakable Harry Potter, Draco’s easy life is about to get a whole lot more complicated.

🪩 Never Mind the Bollocks by @the-sinking-ship (E, 118k)

If someone told Harry six months ago that by autumn he would be single, living on whisky and toast, and dancing the night away with Draco Malfoy, he would have told them to get their head checked. And yet, here he was.

#Sitp faves #erised 2023