#I mean look at him green hair exposed torso

[rubywolf0201]

I know I shouldn’t play the Fell Xenologue DLC because of how insanely difficult it is but was it all worth it just to get the one guy who I super relate to? Yes. Yes it is.

#rubi’s post #fire emblem engage #gregory #I mean look at him green hair exposed torso #and he likes stuffed toys 🥹 #oh and his JP VA is kenjiro tsuda #tho then again he is just an alt version of griss #so it’s a given that he would have the same physical appearance but different personality

[strang3lov3]

Spencer's

Summary: You and Joel visit Spencer's. You snag some toys, then steal some batteries from Joel for those toys. He's not pleased.

Warnings: DRAMATIC!Joel, implied age gap, Joel is jealous of certain inanimate objects, Joel is winnie-the-poohing it, overstimulation, masturbation (m/f), general filth, unprotected piv, creampie, brat-taming (if you squint), spanking, use of sex toys, joel is pro-participation trophy, joel reads Savage Love, soft!dom joel, dom!joel, mall rats!joel

A/N: thank you thank you thank you to @papipascalispunk for editing and proofreading this story. I am so thankful for her help and lucky to know her 🩷

W/C: 4.3k

It’s patrol again. You’re in that old mall with Joel. And he’s quiet today, like he has been the past couple weeks. No shitty comments or dumb jokes. Hardly any of his usual grumbling, just quiet and stoic. He’s wearing a green flannel, sleeves rolled up. Beard recently trimmed, his hair a little less unkempt than usual. And he seems nervous, antsy, bouncing his foot as you both sit on a bench, taking a short break. 

You could help him relax. 

“Victoria’s Secret is back that way. Kinda wanna try on some more lingerie,” you suggest, hoping he’ll take the bait you’re offering.  

“Pass,” Joel says, “You know I don’t like that place.”

“You could watch. We had fun last time we did that, didn’t we?” you reach for Joel’s arm and try to pull him from his seat and toward that dreaded underwear store. He doesn’t budge. 

“Joel?” you ask, confused by his reluctance.

“I don’t know about all that, hon. Thinkin’ we should go to that bookstore, find some more books for the library back home,” Joel points toward a nearby Barnes & Noble, “Yeah?”

You shrug, “Sure, after.”

“After what?”

“This,” you lean toward Joel and grip onto the collar of his flannel, pushing it back to expose more of his neck. Pressing your lips to his throat, nipping and kissing the skin as your hand trails down his torso, fumbling with his belt. 

You’re not wasting time. 

“Oh,” Joel breathes shakily, “That.”

“Yeah,” you say with a satisfied smirk, “That.”

You nudge his head to the side with your nose and try to push him back into the bench, pushing his flannel further over his clavicle to expose more of his neck, but he stays firm. He grabs the hand fumbling with his belt and pulls it away. “I don’t think so,” he says. You pull away immediately and Joel looks at you with sympathy, concern. 

“What’s wrong? What’d I do?” you ask, feeling insecure, self-conscious all of the sudden.

“You didn’t do anything,” Joel says. 

It’s been a while since you’ve been with him, he knows you’re probably antsy for more because he is too. But he’s feeling apprehensive. Each time you’ve fucked, it’s been quick and dirty. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course. He’s not sure what exactly your history with other men is, but Joel fancies himself a gentleman and believes in the campsite rule. Believes that you deserve better than what he’s been giving you. Starting with, say, a bed. You’re exhausting, troublesome, and you’re like a tick the way you get under Joel’s skin, but you still deserve decency. 

Decency won’t stop him from fucking the living daylights out of you, though. He’ll just be a little more gentlemanly about it all, moving forward.  

Joel clears his throat, “You’re young, you know. And I–”.

“And you what?” your tone is snarky.

“Jesus Christ, motormouth,” Joel snaps, “Would you let me finish speaking before you start arguin’?”

You shrug but remain silent, motioning for him to continue. 

“I just think we should do things by the book from now on. Dinner, talking, that kinda stuff. You know, I just want things to be sort of…nice for you. I dunno the word exactly, just...nice, I guess.” You watch Joel blush as he struggles to spell it out.

“Do you mean romantic? Like a date?" Excitedly, you gasp, "Are you taking me to the Rainforest Cafe?”

Joel stares at you blankly before speaking. Rainforest Cafe is a no-go, you're guessing. “No. Not romantic. And not like a date. A date is for two people that actually like each other.” 

And just like that, the attitude is back. He just exudes charisma. 

You pout, “You don’t like me?”

“No, I don’t. I barely tolerate you. But, you know. I still wanna - want you - I want us to…I don’t know,” Joel groans. It’s entertaining, watching him try to spit it out. 

Awh. He barely tolerates you.

You smile, “I barely tolerate you, too.” But Joel won’t look at you, keeps his eyes focused ahead. Still nervous, he fidgets with his hands and continues bouncing his leg.

“Was thinkin’ tomorrow,” Joel mutters quietly, “Y’could come over. Could be…nice. Maybe. Probably not, ‘cause you’ll be there.”

“Yeah. Sounds nice. Maybe. Probably not. ‘Cause you’ll be there too,” you mock his low tone. 

Joel glares at you, “Seven. My place. Be on time.”

—

After your break, you explore the mall further. There’s a store called Spencer’s, which looks neat. Joel agrees, unaware of exactly the kind of store Spencer’s is, so you both go inside. There’s funny t-shirts, cool knick-knacks and tchotchkes. Joel is looking at various lava lamps as you make your way toward the back, and he follows you. 

Holy shit.

There’s all sorts of things on this back wall. Handcuffs, lingerie, lubricants, vibrators, dildos, costumes.

“Wow,” you say, “Looks like your kind of party, Joel.”

Joel rolls his eyes, annoyed, “Shut up.”

“This looks nice. Not romantic at all,” as you poke Joel with a vibrator. 

He flinches, “Get that shit offa’ me, freakazoid.”

“We could use it tomorrow. On our not-date,” you smirk.

“Don’t need it,” he huffs. 

“Wow. You seem confident about that,” you say. Joel shrugs, a look on his face you can’t quite read. “Whatever. Maybe I’ll take it for myself. You know, for alone time.”

His face falls immediately. Joel, prudish as he may seem, truly does not have an issue with masturbation. It’s natural, it’s human. But something about you doing it makes it a little… jealousy-inducing. The thought of you, one of those toys between your thighs, you making all sorts of pretty noises that he can’t hear; it’s just too much for him. “Yeah, knock yourself out,” he says sarcastically, “You’ll have a lot of fun with a battery-less vibrator.”

“You still have some, don’t you?”

Joel scoffs, “I do. But they’re mine, and I sure as shit ain’t sharin’ with you, ‘specially not for those things.” 

“Sharing is caring, you know.”

Joel rolls his eyes, “S’a bold assumption you’re making there. That I care about you.” 

Rude. 

You poke him with the vibrator again. “Quit that,” he grumbles, “Now stay here a minute. Gonna take a leak, I’ll be right back.” He drops his bag and heads for a private area nearby. You stare at his bag on the floor and wonder if he’s fucking with you, because he never goes anywhere without his bag. Better to be safe than sorry is what he always says. And you know he keeps batteries in that bag. 

Ah, fuck it. He won’t know. 

There’s a sign that says “buy two toys, get one free”, and you’re not one to pass up a good deal, even if that deal means nothing now being twenty-or-so years into a fungus apocalypse. So you stuff three toys in your bag, along with one of the lava lamps Joel was checking out. You rifle through Joel’s belongings and pull out a handful of batteries, then stuff those into your bag too. Six should do it, hopefully. After twenty years, a lot of them are duds. You’ll try the toys out tonight, then sneakily put the batteries back in Joel’s pack tomorrow night on your not-date. And Joel will be none the wiser. 

—-

Joel is livid. 

Someone called off patrol today, so he was volunteered by Tommy to fill in. He’d still be back in time for your not-date, and although the change in his plans was not ideal, it’s not what set him off today. No, that was all you. 

His radio had died toward the end of his shift. No big deal, he thought. He reached into his pack and fumbled through his belongings to find his spare batteries. Only, they weren’t in his bag. So he searched a little longer before he realized he actually knew exactly where those precious batteries would be. No doubt inside you at the moment. 

Was he in danger without a working radio? Could’ve been, but no, not really. Will he never find batteries again? Yes, he will. Joel’s crafty and good at scouting supplies like that, even when supplies are sparse. What did pissed him off, however, is the fact he knows you consciously went behind his back to steal his batteries for those toys. You’ve probably spent all last night and all day today fucking yourself silly, couldn’t have waited just one more day. He feels a little insulted, topping off the jealousy already simmering.

Joel comes back to Jackson around five in the evening. He should be showering, cooking, setting the table, and tidying his house. But instead, he makes a beeline for your place. 

He doesn’t bother knocking on your door. He knows you keep it unlocked, something he constantly advises you against. He closes your door, and hears your long and pretty moans coming from upstairs. He’s not sure what’s coming over him or why he cares so much. He prides himself on being level-headed, rational. But all of that’s out the door when he hears your moans, moans that he believes should have been all for him and him alone. 

At least he gets to catch you in the act. 

Joel tiptoes up your steps, fighting his urge to stomp angrily. Your bedroom door is wide open, lights dim. There’s a lava lamp bubbling next to you on your nightstand. You’re laid out on the bed, legs spread, one toy between your thighs and two others lay next to you. Your eyes are squeezed shut as you moan Joel’s name. It’s a nice touch. Maybe he’ll go easy on you. 

Probably not. 

He stands in your doorway and clears his throat, “Enjoyin’ yourself?” 

“Joel!” you yelp and your eyes fly open. Joel moves to stand next to your bed, his gaze dark and intense, his mouth forming an unamused frown. 

“You think you’re slick, don’t you?”

Your words are caught in your throat. Ohh, you are so busted.

“How many’d you steal from me?”

The vibrating dildo you were fucking yourself with is still humming loudly, and in the otherwise silence of your room, it’s deafening. You fumble to try to turn it off. 

“Oh, no. Don’t let me interrupt your date. That’d be awful rude of me.” 

Too shocked to make any moves, you freeze, dildo still humming away inside you. And as anxious as you feel, you’re equally excited. You’ve picked up on Joel’s jealous side, and you’d be lying if you said some part of you wasn’t trying to rile him up. 

“I just, mmmm,” you moan, “Just missed you a lot. Couldn’t wait for tonight.”

“S’that right?”

“Yes, Joel.”

“You missed me so much you decided to deliberately go through my bag and steal my batteries?”, he spits, sarcasm lacing his words, “Yeah hon, sure looks like you missed me, fuckin’ yourself on that plastic cock.”

“Silicone,” you correct, though now definitely isn’t the time to bother with semantics. Joel notices you rocking your hips ever so slightly, chasing your orgasm as subtly as you can. You’re right, right fucking there. He can see it on you, you’ve got that look about you. Your breathing is shaky and your body trembles. 

“You’ve got some fuckin’ nerve,” Joel hovers over you, one hand next to you on the bed and his other reaching for your toy. 

“Please,” you beg. 

“Think you’ve made yourself come enough, impatient goddamn brat,” he mumbles as he pulls the toy away from your center, tossing it aside. You groan and whine in frustration. Just three more seconds, you would have been there. 

Fucking Joel.

“I’m at a loss on what to do here, sweetheart,” Joel says as he kicks off his shoes before sitting on your bed, his back against the headboard, “Can’t fuckin’ take those batteries back on account of they’ve all been inside ya.”

“Joel, I did not fuck myself with your batteries. That’s…not how that works.”

“Shut up, wiseass.”

“Joel, I was gonna give them back, I swear. I just wanted–”.

Joel cuts you off, not caring to hear the rest of your explanation, “All half used and out of juice? How generous. Lucky me,” he muses, annoyed.

“Joel–”.

“Don’t think you fuckin’ get it,” he snaps, “Y’got no fuckin’ self control. You’re lyin’ to me, stealin’ from me, sneakin’ around. And it breaks my heart, ‘cause I was startin’ to look forward to our date.”

“Date?” you ask in confusion. Joel’s cheeks turn rosy as he refuses to acknowledge his slip up. The not-date turned actual-date. “Joel.”

“Need to get through to you somehow,” he ignores you, still too upset,  “Got a couple different ideas in mind. I guess we’ll have to see which one sticks.”

He pulls you up and over his lap, your head laying on the crumpled sheets. He presses a hand firmly on your neck, holding you in place as he gently runs his other hand over the swell of your ass. 

You know what’s coming. And it’s been a long time coming, at that. You've noticed the way Joel looks at you, his angry stare and how he chews on his inner cheek. How his hands ball into fists, like he’s fighting the urge to strangle you. Wrap his hands around your neck and just fucking squeeze. 

Crack. 

The sting of his hand striking your ass is as delicious as it is painful. He smacks you again, harder. And it’s just as incredible. That sharp bite, how it sends arousal gushing from your core. You can’t help the moan that slips from your mouth. 

Joel pulls you off his lap abruptly, onto your knees between his thighs, and faces you towards him. He wears a puzzled expression, like somehow he wasn’t aware that spanking is more of a reward than it is a punishment, at least to you. “Ya weren’t s’posed to enjoy that so much.”

“Joel–”.

“Yeah, we’re not doing that. Fuckin’ weirdo,” he interrupts, shaking his head a little. Joel thinks for a moment, staring at you as he contemplates his next move. His eyes flicker to yours, and you can practically watch the gears in his head begin to turn. “I think,” he lifts his hips to pull both his jeans and boxers down his thighs, and his cock springs free. It’s the first time you’ve really gotten to see it. Long and thick, prominent vein, blushed tip a bit wider than his shaft. Curly dark hair surrounding the base. It’s artwork. “Think we’ll try Plan B,” he says firmly as he reaches forward, wrapping one hand around himself to stroke his member, thumb swiping across the tip. 

It should be your hand. And he’s well aware of this, but he’s giving you a taste of your own medicine before moving on to the main event. You extend your arm in front of you, but Joel doesn’t allow it.  “Ah ah,” he tuts, slapping your hand away, “You can go play with one of your rubber cocks. Since you love ‘em so goddamn much.” His words are biting, acrimonious.

He’s throwing you off. Joel, who says he couldn’t give a “fiddler’s flying fuck” about you, is upset that your pleasure wasn’t brought on by his hands today. Joel, who barely tolerates you. “Joel, please, I want you. I’m sorry,” you cry, “I need you, Joel, been missing you so much. Please, Joel. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“Layin’ it on pretty fuckin’ thick, sweetheart.” 

You cry in frustration, “Joel, I’m sor-”.

“Cut that shit out. You ain’t sorry. You’re sorry you got caught, ‘cause now you’re in trouble,” Joel keeps stroking himself, taunting you, “This is on you.”

Joel thinks back to when he was a teenager, when his father caught him with a lit cigarette hanging from his lips, how his father’s punishment was to make him smoke the whole pack, and how before he was even halfway through the pack the nicotine had made him sick to his stomach. 

Same idea.

Still stroking himself, Joel grabs one of the vibrators sitting next to you. It’s a wand type, light pink in color. He holds down a button and it buzzes to life, “C’mere. Between my legs. Do it now,” his voice is stern, authoritarian. You assume the position. Joel parts your legs wider, pulling your knees back before guiding your hands to hold the backs of your knees, keeping you open nice and wide for him. “You stay like this. Don’t move.” His flannel feels soft and warm on your skin. You feel his hot breath on your neck, his chest rising and falling steadily against your back. Wordlessly, he brings the vibrator to your core. He drags it over your lips, through your folds, coating it with your arousal. 

Joel circles your clit with the toy now, and your hips to follow the sensation. The way you’re sighing, moaning, grinding with his movements, Joel can tell you haven’t picked up what he’s putting down yet. 

Poor thing. Fucked herself stupid on all these plastic cocks. 

“Yeah, Joel, like that. Fuck, feels good,” you breathe, “Right there. S’good.”

Joel’s silence is disconcerting. There’s no dirty talk, no snide remarks like usual. But you’re too worked up to worry about why. Within seconds, you’re coming. Sweet, breathy moans and whines falling from your lips as you ride out your high. 

Joel presses the button on the vibrator, taking it up a notch. The buzz is louder, the feeling intense, nearing on too much. Finally, he speaks, “I really do hope your thievery was worth it, sweetheart,” he whispers in a low, raspy voice behind the shell of your ear, “Now tell me, exactly how many batteries am I short?” 

It’s getting uncomfortable now. You wrap your fingers around Joel’s wrist and try to pull him away from your core but he doesn't budge, “What? Joel, let up.”

“What’d I say? Hands on your thighs. Y’don’t move,” he barks. You do as you’re told, and he hums in satisfaction, “Now answer my question.” 

“I don’t know, six? I–oh, fuck. I was gonna give them back. Please, Joel, I can’t– ”

Joel scoffs, “Six? You stole six batteries. What, were you stashing them for winter? Squirrelier than I thought.”

“No, just…you know how sometimes, they-they-they, and they’re old, so–Joel, m’serious–”, you whine, almost pleading for mercy from the overstimulation he’s causing.

Joel pulls the vibrating wand from your core, and you exhale in relief, resting your head back on his shoulder. He’s showing you mercy. Or so it seems. 

But the sound of the vibrator clicking on is back in an instant. Slightly different pitch this time. You pull your head off his shoulder and watch in shock as he guides it to your pussy, notching the longer end inside. He doesn’t bother going slow as he parts your insides with the toy. You worked yourself up plenty.

“Whatever. Damage is done. So here’s the deal,” Joel starts, “You’re gonna come for me six times, one for each of the six batteries you stole from me. You’re gonna keep count, too. Got one down, right?” but you’re a mess of whimpers and whines, which is the wrong answer, “Or are we doin’ more?”

“One, one, we’re at one. Oh, god. Joel, please. Please.”

“Y’don’t even know what you’re beggin’ for,” Joel mumbles. His hand crosses over both his and your bodies to hold your jaw firmly, keeping your sight set on the picture between your thighs. The toy sliding in and out of you, wet and sticky with your juices. The shorter end sliding over your clit. He’s hitting your g-spot with precision, each thrust sending you closer to the edge. Within seconds, you’re seeing stars as Joel fucks you through it. 

“Count,” he demands. “T-two,” you moan, but Joel doesn’t relent. A third washes over you just as quickly as the previous one. “Three, s’too much Joel, please,” you beg.

“Quit whinin’,” he mocks, “I’m goin’ easy on ya, considering the fuckin’ stunt you pulled. You wanna make it more?”

“No, please. M’so tired.”

“Quit your whinin’. S’a punishment. Ain’t supposed to feel good,” he growls, “You’re gonna give me my batteries’ worth out of these little fuck toys. Make you come until you can’t fuckin’ walk.” You’re still holding your knees back as Joel fucks you through your third orgasm. The hand that was holding your jaw is now traveling lower, groping your breasts and teasing your nipples. Hot, salty tears of overstimulation and exhaustion roll down your cheeks. You’re shaking, trembling, and he knows it’s all too much. He wonders how many times you came before he showed up. So Joel decides to show a bit of mercy, feeling that pulling three orgasms from you is sufficient enough. For now.

He pulls the toy from your pussy and tosses it on your nightstand. He gives you a moment to breathe, to let your legs down. He rubs deep and firm circles into your sore, aching hips before lifting your limp, pliant body up to straddle his lap and face him. His eyes are soft and sincere, his quiet way of telling you he’s still here. And when this is all done, he’s gonna take care of you.

He’s still gonna fuck the living daylights out of you, though.

“You’re doin’ so good,” he tells you, “Almost there.” You nod and Joel lifts your hips, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance and pulling your aching pussy down onto his cock with a soft groan, slower than he did with the toy. He knows you’re sore. 

He fucks you deep and hard, just how you like. You fall forward, resting your forehead on the thick line of muscle between his neck and shoulder. Whimpering his name into his hot skin, moaning somewhere between agony and ecstasy, “I-Joel, I'm serious. It’s t-too much, please.”

“I know it is,” he whispers as he bounces you on his cock, chasing his own release, hanging by a thread with the way you’re squeezing around him. You think Joel is feeling sympathetic maybe, as he decides to offer a compromise. “I’ll make–oh, fuck,” he gasps, “Make ya a deal.” You mumble incoherently against him, and Joel sits you upright, his cock stiff and filling deep inside you. 

“Right here. Look at me,” he breathes out, gently gripping your jaw to tilt your face up. You look at him with burning, tear stained eyes. He can see the exhaustion on your face. “Breathe, sweetheart,” he coos, “How many left you owe me?”

“Three,” you answer, breathlessly.

“Mhm,” he mumbles, rolling his hips slowly, “I know you’re tired, honey. Probably pretty sore. S’that right?”

“Yes, Joel.”

“Christ, poor thing. What a mess you got yourself into. I know you didn’t mean to, hmm?” You nod in agreement quietly as he fucks you a little more gently, offering you a slight break. “Just curious, wanted to have some fun, huh? I know how ya are,” his tone is soft and kind, but still teasing. 

You smile with a slight shrug. 

“Tell me you’re sorry for stealing, and you only have to give me one more tonight. Just gotta apologize, real nice f’me.”

“Mmm,” is all you can muster. You’re so spent, muddled and incoherent noises seem to be the only sounds your voice can make. 

“Words, c’mon now, baby. ‘I’m sorry, Joel’,” he instructs you.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you repeat, “For taking your batteries.”

“There ya go, sweetheart. That's it. Good girl,” he praises.

You sigh and collapse on his chest once more as Joel snakes a hand between your bodies. He finds your clit, his fingers warm and soft. With your face against his body, you bite down on his shoulder as his fingers begin rubbing slow, precise circles over your aching clit. No toy in the world could compare to the way his touch makes you feel. 

Just one more. 

He starts to fuck you deeper again, his free hand sliding up your up to grip around the base of your neck as he thrusts up into you, bouncing you on his cock. You’re liquid in his hands as he continues to steadily work your clit. That all too familiar pooling heat in your core is building back up for the last time, this one far more intense than the previous three orgasms he’s pulled from you. It crashes over you in waves, white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins. Joel feels your body tremble and shake, your fluttering walls choking his cock, pulling his own orgasm from him as he spills inside of you, filling you up with loads of his hot seed. 

God, how you missed that. Missed him.

It could have been minutes, maybe hours that you stayed seated on his cock like that, just breathing with Joel. He runs his fingers up and down your spine, strokes your hair.

Finally, you sit up and extricate your body from his to remove the batteries from the toys. “Here,” you hand them to him.

Joel wears kind of an affected scowl on his face as he takes them from you. “Batteries feel light.”

“Sorry,” you say.

Joel smiles softly, his eyes glimmering as he hands them back to you, “Keep ‘em. Got a stash at home anyhow. Now get dressed.” 

“Why?”

“Jesus, sweetheart. Y’got the memory of a goldfish. Cause we’re havin’ dinner, that’s why.” 

You bite your lip and smile mischievously, “Because it’s a date.”

“No. S’not a date, wiseass. You’re a lady and you deserve…hey-”, Joel stops himself, noticing the bubbling lava lamp next to you, green with blue bubbles, like the one he was eyeing back in Spencer’s, “S’a cool lava lamp. I always wanted one.”

“I know,” you smile shyly, “Picked it out for you. Just wanted to make sure it worked first.”

Please please please reblog, comment, send me asks! Talk to me! Your interaction means the world!

follow @strang3stories and turn on notifs to know when i post!

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal joel miller #mall rats joel #mall rats #soft dom!joel miller #soft dom!joel #dom!joel miller x reader #dom!joel miller

[softshuji]

Sanzu wakes up after you on the first night he stays over.

And it's not that he's found it hard to sleep, quite the contrary, which is a start all things considered. Maybe your bed is just too warm and smells of perfume and vanilla, lemon soap and coffee that you're prone to drinking even during the late hours. Maybe it's that there's a hair of yours on his chest that whirls along his torso, and he can feel the warmth of you still on his skin despite the draught.

These are the things he knows immediately: He knows the sheets are soft, and you'd been embarrassed at the pale green of your covers that still had ink marks and spots of nail polish dotting its corners. He knows you'd switched the noise machine off last night and had curled on his chest, your ear pressed to his skin, the milky white juncture of his shoulder, the slope where his heart rests anxiously underneath.

But he's surprised that he doesn't feel inclined to move immediately when he feels you slip out next to him in the morning, taking the warmth with you. You hold his hand, halfway between sleep and not, and press a kiss to his wrist, before pulling the covers over him again, safe and cocooned in your bed.

You know he's watching and it doesn't feel awkward, him peering from beneath the snow of his lashes, sleep grit and fatigue still clinging to the shadows underneath.

It's not sexual when he watches you pick up a bra from the floor and shimmy into jeans thrown somewhere on the other side of the room from the night prior. It's unceremonious in fact when you pad to the mirror in just those and one sock and thermal pants underneath because, quote unquote "you hate the feeling of bare denim and your legs get cold easily."

And he remembers it had been a quick affair, getting you out of clothes and onto the bed, your thighs in his hands, your back on the sheets and him latching onto your skin, sucking deep purple onto your neck and lower still. He looks at the wreckage of his lust now, the capillaries broken under your skin that you don't seem to mind as you slip a shirt on.

You look at him and it's open, carefree and vulnerable when you tell him , "hey Haru, there's coffee in the pot for you when you're ready okay?"

He sits up on his elbows, the sheets slipping off his chest to expose your own destruction to the sunlight, fading pink that's stark against the ivory of skin. 'I think I should probably go,' he says, for something to say. And he does feel awkward now, feels as if he needs to rush to leave the safety of your home and your inviting bed.

You frown and dig around in your dresser for a hairbrush. 'I thought you said you had a day off today?' you say absent-mindedly, rubbing moisturizer into your skin.

'I do, but- Mikey- there's some things- I shouldn't stay-'

You pause, frown, drop the hairbrush onto the vanity in succession. 'You don't have to y'know.' And you smile, placatingly, amicably, moving to sit on the edge of the bed as you pull your socks on.

'What do you mean?' He sits up further, his back to the headboard now, frowning further when he feels your fingers dance on his open palm.

'I mean...' You tongue your cheek, avert your eyes, all timid shyness that seemed lost on you just last night. 'You can stay, if you want. I left a spare key on the microwave but- you don't have to- I mean it would be nice, if you were here when I got back.'

Suspicion is the first to crawl along his skin. 'You don't want me to go? I can go if-'

'Haru. Stay. Please stay.' And you lean across the expanse of cotton to plant a soft and hesitant touch on his mouth, the cherry of your lip balm a soft tingle on his tongue.

'Are you sure? You don't have to feel force-'

'I'm serious. I don't want you to go.' You touch at his cheek, one polished finger that traces a circle into his skin. 'Be here when I get back?'

He waits, and searches your eyes, the reflection of himself shining in the glassy mirror, for the honesty he finds in you and lacking in himself. 'Sure, I'll...stay,' he says, slowly, as if testing out the words, as if they're new.

And then you lean back and smile, tuck his hair behind an ear and it feels like a loss when the bed springs back as you stand.

Except it feels less like it hurts this time.

reblogs appreciated!

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyorev x reader #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu x reader #tokyo revengers x reader

[enm-enthusiast]

The Exhibitionists Club Ch. 1 - Jeremy Part 1

Before we get started, some things I’d like to say. First off, thank you everyone for all your support, it means a lot you’ve stuck with me this far!

Also, a shout out to my fellow ENM writers Suitedwestend and Gaystoryfull, check out their pages for more awesome content!

Now, this series will be revolving around a diverse cast of characters, all of whom I’ve already introduced but again we’ll be starting off in Jeremy’s POV and next chapter we’ll introduce Stephen. While this may disappoint some, I don’t intend for this first chapter to be as full and action-packed like most of my works. I want to slowly build up this series, and have the payoff to cause you all to have the effect of you all dropping your pants ;) Now, without further ado, let’s get into the first chapter of my new series, Blue River’s University: The Exhibitionists Club.

Character Description: Jeremy is a 6’2 ginger man, a little on the chubby side, with green eyes and facial hair on the sides of his face which is square-jawed. An english major at the university, Jeremy works as a part time gym cleaner on campus, where he gets to spot the half-naked, sweaty bodies of other adult males on campus. Jeremy is bisexual but has yet to be intimate with another man, and fantasizes constantly of finding himself a young stud he can turn into his submissive bitch…

Jeremy

I hated going to the gym, but not for reasons people might have expected. I didn’t stare at the regular gym goers' bodies with envy, nor did I hate the idea of exercise, no, my reasons were far more…lustful.

I hated getting to see their glistening, sweaty-bodies as they worked out, their sexy torsos exposed for all to see. It drove me mad to know that I could never get my hands on any of them, I knew they’d reject me in a heartbeat.

What a shame it was too, because almost every time that I had to visit the gym I spotted a cute guy or two I thought needed a good spanking. In fact,I had my eye on one in particular, starting one day when I spotted a young blonde who I just knew was a perv underneath his shy exterior. He had obviously been new, asking the people who worked at the gym all sorts of questions, but no matter what he refused to show any skin or take off his shirt.

Every time I went to the gym these days since then, I saw him there, working out. The last time he had managed to build himself up a little, but still, he refused to show off anything! My cock ached in my pants just imagining his tight little ass cheeks clenching as I slapped them till they were red and raw. I never got to stay long enough to see if he used the showers here, and it was never my job to clean them so our paths never crossed if he did…

Sure enough, even now as I walked into the doors of the gym building I could see him lifting weights off in the corner. My eyes were drawn to how his ass clung to his short blue shorts as he bent over with the weights. I was positively drooling at the sight, his butt was round and perfectly curved, making it look like two small, but thick bubbles were stuck to him at all times. 

“Uhhh, Jeremy? You alright?” I heard a voice say which snapped me out of my trance, tried to ignore the blood rushing to my cock, and turned back towards the head of the gym. Technically my boss, George was an older man in his early 40’s, but was in really good shape, in fact I wouldn’t mind if he didn’t want to get down and-

Stop it, you're working, I had to say to myself to keep my cock from getting even harder in my pants. “Yeah George, I just got distracted by some new equipment I hadn’t noticed before, seems it’s being put to good use” I said, hoping that would satisfy him.

“Ah, you noticed? We just got those new weights last week, some members have taken a liking to them” he said, pointing to the blonde stud with his chin. 

“Yeah, he sure seems enthusiastic…” I said, trying to keep my gaze away from his ass. 

“Stephen’s pretty shy, but he’s put in some commendable work here, and has come out of his shell a lot, but I keep having to stay open late because he insists on using the showers only until everyone else leaves” George said.

Fuck…he does use the showers here?! I thought to myself, my heart racing at the implications. I found out his name too…Stephen…such a cute name for a cute twink that I knew for almost certain was hiding something pervy underneath his shy exterior. I got so caught up in my own thoughts again I almost missed George’s next words which would change my life forever…

“In fact…that reminds me, I have a special job for you tonight, my usual cleaner for the showers called off tonight so I need you to stay a little later and finish cleaning up after Stephen’s done showering, that okay?” he said.

My cock throbbed in my pants as he finished speaking, and I had little time to gather my thoughts as I grinned widely and said “Oh don’t worry sir…I think that’ll suit me just fine” I said.

“Great! Just don’t spook poor Stephen while you're in there, he scares easily, gets so caught up he doesn’t notice anything going on around him” he said, smiling while shaking his head before walking away.

I turned back towards where Stephen had now put down the weights, sweat drenching his white tank top and briefly glanced in his direction, I gave him a knowing smile and a wink. I didn’t catch his full reaction but before he turned away I saw red in his cheeks. 

Damn, he’s cute!….I’d bend you over here and now if I could, but soon enough I’ll get to see everything you're hiding, I thought to myself as I walked away and started forming a plan inside my head.

(Four Hours Later)

“If this works…I might lose my job, but…I never really liked this job anyways” I said to myself out loud, my voice barely a whisper.

The gym was officially “closed” now, but the cleaning staff stayed behind and I was the last of them now, with everyone else finished. All that was left was for me to clean up the showers…

Less than an hour ago, I saw Stephen gathering up his things in his gym bag and once everyone else but me had left, I spotted him heading for the showers. I made sure he didn’t see me as I gathered up my cleaning supplies in a handheld basket and made my way towards the gym showers.

The lights had been mostly turned off, with only dim light in the hallways obscuring my vision slightly as I reached the door to the showers which was situated at the far east side of the gym. I held my ear to the door and sure enough I heard running water, grinning to myself and freely grabbing my cock through the fabric of my pants.

Luckily for me, not only was Stephen rather short-sighted but the gym shower door had a soft lock on it which meant that whenever it opened the lock always clicked softly, barely making any noise. I heard that the gym had it designed that way to ensure people could move in and out without making any loud noises that would disrupt people from showering.

Whatever the case, it was certainly helping me put the first steps of my plan into place as I opened the door with a soft click and slowly pushed it open and as quietly as I could, closed it behind me. I made sure the door was firmly closed before turning back around to see where Stephen was and what I saw made my jaw drop.

He was naked. Fully naked, out in the open with water running down his smooth, tan but completely hairless skin. Believing himself alone, he had taken the middle shower, which was closest to the door and lockers, yes, but it also meant anyone walking in would get an eyeful of your bare ass. I spotted more than a few bare asses that way when cleaning the showers during the day shift, some were quite nice, and all I wanted was to get my hands on them.

If I play things right, I’ll get my hands on those, I thought to myself, gazing right as Stephen’s bare ass cheeks. They seemed to shine under the water, and they jiggled in such a way as he moved around washing his body, that my cock was fully hard in my pants.

“Not yet” I said to myself. I gripped my basket tightly and managed to tear my gaze away from the amazing sight of Stephen’s naked body. As I walked further in, I noticed his gym bag on the benches right across from the open showers. Out of curiosity, I moved closer and looked briefly inside.

Holy fuck! I thought to myself as I spotted not just gym clothes…I saw very explicit gay porn magazines, and not just any porn…BDSM, leather porn. My cock throbbed as if in approval of Stephen’s rather kinky, and as I suspected, perverted tastes. 

I even saw what looked like a vibrator inside, which made me wonder to myself: why the fuck would he bring that in his gym bag…unless…he has it inside him while he works out?!

Regardless, it proved I was right in my assessment of Stephen, that beneath his shy boy exterior was a submissive kink-boy that was about to expand his horizons just a bit.

Just one look improved my chances for success dramatically, but first…I looked away from his gym bag and walked further in, five feet away from Stephen. I cleared my throat, loudly enough for him to pause and turn around slowly. Upon seeing me, he blushed a deep red, covering himself with his hands and yelled “What the fuck?! What are you doing here?” he said.

His blond hair was cut short, but it was wavy, and his dramatic motions just now made it flow across his head as if fluid despite that it was wet. The sight of it, along with his crimson-red blush, made my cock throb even harder though thankfully he didn’t notice…yet.

“Uhhh, my job? The usual cleaner is off tonight so I got asked to do it instead, I didn’t think anybody else was left” I said, nonchalantly. I hated having to lie like this, but I knew it was the only option I had to calm him down.

In fact, he seemed to calm down quite a lot once I finished speaking, and, while still covering himself he even seemed apologetic. “Oh…I see, well I’m sorry I yelled at you, I thought George had told everyone but..I guess I should have asked, is it alright if you can wait to clean? I’m almost done here” he said, his voice nervous and clearly very embarrassed.

“It’s all right, no need to worry about it, but…it’s late and I need to get going as soon as possible…so how about this, I’m going to go clean the rest of the showers so that once you finish up I can clean up your area and we can both leave, how’s that sound?” I said.

He seemed to consider it, he darted his eyes away from me and after a moment he looked back up and said “A-alright, that seems fair, just please…don’t look” he said and his blush turned even redder. This boy doesn’t know how cute he is, it almost made me lose control and pin him to the ground while I sucked on his neck.

I didn’t let it show, thankfully as I gave him a smile and said “no problem” before turning around and walking to the far side of the showers. He seemed to still be wary, however, and waited a long while before he finally got back to showering, keeping an eye on me the whole time. 

I was true to my word, I didn’t look at him once and even finished up cleaning the showers which thankfully wasn’t too dirty today. It was nearly time to put the rest of my plan into action, but it hinged on Stephen at last diverting his gaze away from me.

I seemed to have calmed him down enough, because he at last had to look away as he lathered his hair up with soap. Now’s my chance I thought to myself as I stuck close to the lockers, stepping carefully towards his gym bag. Stephen didn’t hear as I made it to where his gym bag was, and carefully gathered up his clothes. 

I removed his wallet and his phone, and placed them back inside the bag, then I inspected his clothes. It seems Stephen had chosen to wear a jockstrap to the gym today, a purple and green one too! and had regular black boxer briefs to change into.

I gathered all of his clothes, including his shower towel, in a bundle, and hurried my way to the door, opening it with another soft click and had it open halfway before I stopped…

I turned back towards him, gazing as he rinsed the soap out of his hair which ran down his back and then his cheeks…I bit my lip as my cock started to harden once more. My original plan was to take off with all his clothes and make him run out of here naked but…those magazines changed things. 

Instead, I tossed his clothes out in the hallway which landed in a corner that I made sure to remember in my head as I closed the door behind me.

Keeping my eyes trained on him, I slowly walked back towards his gym bag. Stephen had finished rinsing off and was now making sure all of the soap was off of his body, which meant his shower was nearly over. That was when I made my move by grabbing one of his magazines, a picture of a nude, bound twink on the cover, a collar on his neck with a leash held by a muscle dom in leather.

Well…I may not be covered in leather, but I think I’ll do just fine, I thought to myself. I started flipping through the pages. Loudly. My attention was now solely on the magazine and I had to admit, some of the content was turning me on. My cock was almost fully hard again, and I purposefully used my free hand to rub my erection through my pants. 

I unbuttoned the top of my pants, and slightly unzipped them to allow my hand to slide its way inside and grab ahold of my aching boner. I moaned out loud now, and the sound of that, combined with me flipping the pages of the magazine, had finally caught his attention.

I withdrew my hand from my pants and made sure both hands were now holding the magazine and twisted my face to be one of surprise and shock as he turned around once more.

Stephen’s eyes widened in shock themselves, so much so he forgot to cover up and I got a look at what he was packing at long last. His cock was thin, but long even while soft it looked like he was four and a half inches. Once he noticed where my gaze was he blushed and quickly moved to cover himself, but before he did so I saw a hint of his cock enlarging. 

His blush stretched all across his face, including his ears when he recognized the magazine in my hands. “Dude, what the fuck are you looking in my gym bag for?!” he said, trying to sound angry and confident. The truth was that he was embarrassed that someone had not only seen, but was actively looking at his perverted jerk off materials.

“You left it out where practically anyone could see it, I was walking back and sure enough I saw-this” I said, pointing to the cover, and he turned his head away in shame.

“I gotta say though…you have nice taste” I said, pointing this time to the leather-bound muscle hunk that held the leash to the twink on the cover. Stephen froze, and he looked back up to see where I was pointing and his eyes both widened and something else too.

I saw a spark pass between them, and when I did I knew I had his attention. “Although leather has never really been my thing…I could make an exception…under the right circumstances” I said, giving him a knowing wink and a smile. 

I closed and set the magazine down on the bench and looked right at Stephen, and him at me, his mouth slightly open. Looking at his wet, naked body and his embarrassed state just turned me on so much, that when Stephen bit his lip my cock throbbed in my pants. This time, he noticed.

He looked back up at me, and he licked his lips, and I smiled in triumph as I knew I had him now. I made my move by slowly walking towards him, and he instinctively backed away, towards the wall. Never breaking eye contact, I continued my slow but steady pace towards him and he kept backing up until he hit the wall.

He looked at me nervously, and I reached up and turned the shower head away from us as I halted right in front of him, our bodies pressed close together. I put my hands on the wall on both sides of his head, and leaned in close to his ear.

“Has Stephen been a bad little boy?” I whispered. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him bite his lip and I felt something press against my crotch. I smiled as I knew exactly what it was.

I slowly lowered my hands, inching my way until they met his bare shoulders. He didn’t stop me, and he didn’t protest at the contact, in fact he seemed to encourage it. I rubbed his shoulders for a few moments as I repeated my question, but again I got no response.

I lost my patience as I growled in my throat and grabbed his arms, pinning them above his head. He gasped in surprise, but didn’t shout for me to stop as I at last looked down to see his fully hard cock dangling between his legs.

Fuck…I thought to myself as I stared at his six-inch cock, I wanted to desperately grab ahold of it, then milk him until he shot his load all over himself, but I had other plans first.

I looked back up to see Stephen’s cute, blushing face gazing back at me. I leaned into his ear once again and whispered “Stephen…you’ve been a naughty little boy, haven’t you?” I said.

“y-y ... .yes” he said.

I took that as my cue as I leaned down to his neck and started kissing it, slowly, before I started sucking on his bare, wet skin. “Mmmph!” he said out loud. As I did so, I started to grind my crotch against his, pressing his cock against my pants which only made him moan louder.

In between me sucking and kissing his neck, I said “I want to hear you say it, boy”.

He didn’t ask what I meant, he knew exactly the words I wanted to hear.

“I-I’ve been…a naughty little boy” he said.

With another primal growl in my throat, I suddenly let his arms go and this time I hooked my own underneath his thighs and pulled him up and pressed him against the wall. I positioned myself so that my crotch was pressed directly against his ass which I took the opportunity to squeeze and slap a few times.

“Mmmm, fuck yeah boy, this sweet ass of yours has been the highlight of my work day each time I walk in here, each day I imagined what I’d do to it if I ever got my hands on you” I said, the words spilling out of me as I grinded my crotch against his ass.

His face was contorted between complete and utter embarrassment and the pleasure of me dominating his little twink body with ease, and in response he said “I….I’ve noticed you around here too…and I’ve…thought of you doing exactly this” he said, his face turning crimson at the confession.

I smiled, and thrust my crotch against his ass which only made him whimper as his body language clearly communicated how much he was enjoying this. I noticed his cock was still hard, and with my right hand I reached out and firmly grasped it.

“Oh, fuck!” he said out loud. 

“Yes…that’s right little Stephen, moan for me” I said as I slowly jerked off his cock. With my left hand, I reached out and started playing with his balls which were low-hanging and, like most of his body, hairless.

His moans certainly became louder, as I slowly increased my pace of me jerking off his cock and balls, all the while my own boner throbbed in my pants, begging to be released and thrust inside his waiting asshole.

But that was going to have to wait for another day.

Instead, I continued my pace, and surely enough the stimulation was beginning to bring Stephen near the breaking point. I leaned in near his ear once more and said “Mmm, looks like you're having fun there little Stephen, you want me to make you cum?” I said.

“Fuck!....yes, please sir make me cum!” he said, his voice pleading and pathetic.

“Good boy” I said and started to jerk him off faster, determined to milk him of his cum. I moved my face towards his, and looked directly into his eyes, waiting to see if he would-

He kissed me. Before I knew it, he had his lips pressed against mine, and it awakened something in both of us, as his mouth opened, hungry for more as his arms tried to reach towards my shirt.

I momentarily stopped jerking his cock to slap his arms away before resuming. He looked at me confusingly, and I smiled back reassuringly but shook my head, and the look in my eyes said ‘not today’.

He looked disappointed, but didn’t complain as I knew he was nearing orgasm. I thrust my crotch faster and deeper, grinding my imprisoned cock against him as Stephen’s moans reached a crescendo and his body tightened.

“I-I’m gonna…” He didn’t finish but I broke away from his face as I pointed his cock upwards, toward him. His cock burst as he shot his load all over himself, I could practically feel his balls draining within my hand. His body relaxed as he came down from the high of finally shooting his load and I gently let him down back to the ground.

“Fuck…that was so intense…who are you anyways?” Stephen asked me when he could finally stand up without his knees wobbling.

“The name’s Jeremy, and I have a feeling this won’t be the last we see of each other” I said, winking at him while my cock, still hard in my pants, pressed against the fabric as if in response. I zipped and buttoned up my pants before turning around to walk away. 

As I reached the door of the showers, I turned back to see Stephen staring at me dumbfounded, like I was crazy to leave without getting off myself. As if in explanation, I smiled at him deviously and said “Trust me, I wanted to pound your ass like there was no tomorrow, but I thought we’d both enjoy you making your first nude walk home” I said, giving him one last wink and a smile before quickly exiting.

I saw his eyes widen and a blush reappear on his face, but I didn’t waste time as I quickly closed the door behind me, gathered up his bundled clothes in the corner and dashed away. I made my way to a hidden corner, where you wouldn’t be able to see me unless you passed right by but it was right by the janitor’s closet. So, I pulled out my phone while hearing a loud but muffled “FUCK!” coming from the showers.

I smiled to myself as I set my phone to record, then I simply waited to watch the magic happen.

End of Chapter 1.

Author’s Note: I hope you all enjoyed this first introductory chapter of my new series! Next up: Will Stephen manage to find some clothes as he escapes from the gym? Or will he really have to make a fully nude journey back to his dorm room? 

Find out next chapter, but until then, hope you enjoyed ;)

#cmnm #enm #gay #enm story

[iamvegorott]

Laser Guns and Streamers

@bookwormscififan shared an idea of Chase celebrating his birthday with the Egos taking Chase to laser tag and I got a liiiiitle carried away XD

Laser Guns and Streamers

Chase was already buzzing with excitement as he slipped the thick, black vest over his head, watching the others around him do the same with their own vests. His smile somehow got even bigger as Marvin went up to him and helped make sure the vest was on him properly.

“I still can’t believe that everyone agreed to do this,” Chase said, playing with some of the colorful streamers that were tucked into Marvin’s ponytail. 

Robbie and Blank had decorated the others at the House before they left. Streamers, glitter, and washable markers were almost like weapons and no one was safe. Chase had some green lines across his cheeks, almost looking like the kind of ‘war paint’ one would see with football players. There was also some glitter in his hair that he’d already accepted as being part of him for a while since glitter always stuck around. 

“It’s for your birthday, they’re willing to do whatever it takes to make sure it’s a perfect, happy day for you.” Marvin kissed Chase’s cheek. “But that doesn’t mean they’ll go easy on you when the game starts.” He added with a wink. 

“Are you ready for battle!?” Jackie asked in a shout as he went over to Chase. He had streamers tied around his head like a sweatband, green lines on his cheeks like Chase, and patches of glitter on his arms.

“Hell yeah!” Chase matched Jackie’s energy and the two ran off, leaving Marvin to smile and roll his eyes. 

“Septiceyes verses Ipliers!” Wilford joined in the excited yelling, he was covered almost the same as Jackie but with a lot more glitter. 

“I’m not a Septiceye nor an Iplier so I should be allowed to sit out with Host,” Mad stated, having a few streamers tied around his wrists and the green lines were on his face, too. 

“We’re honorary Septiceyes today,” Phantom said, several streamers around his neck tied into a loose bow. He had green on his cheeks but Blank had insisted that Phantom’s had to be swirls and not straight lines. “Plus I like the idea of being able to shoot my brother without consequences.” 

“It’s just a laser, don’t get too excited.” Mare had a smirk with his scoff, arms lined with tied streamers and glitter.

“If Mad wishes to sit out, I can do the same so the teams remain even,” Google said. 

“Don’t be boring, Googs!” Bing nudged Google with his elbow, grin bright while Google breathed heavily through his nose. Both androids had their arms covered in glitter and some braided streamers were around their necks, hanging down like ties.

“Birthday boy says it’s time to go!” Anti shouted from the chair he stood on, any exposed skin on him was covered in green marker and glitter, and streamers looped around his legs to make a crossing pattern. 

He had dozed off when Blank and Robbie were getting him ready and the two got a little carried away. 

“I give it fifteen seconds before the match is over,” Henrik stated, standing next to Edward. They matched with streamers wrapped around their torsos like they were mummies. 

“If some of us try cheatin’ with powers, it only gonna be like ten,” Yancy stated. He had a thick collection of streamers tied around both upper arms. 

“If even that.” Illinois chuckled, his arms having the same collection of streamers. 

“We can have as many rounds as we want.” JJ silently giggled as he had the words appear in Yancy and Illinois’ heads. He also had a thick collection of streamers, but his were tied around his waist. 

“Let’s get this over with,” Dark said as he guided Yancy and Illinois off to join the other Ipliers and Mare to the back set of doors. Dark had planned just to have a few streamers on his wrist to keep the peace, but after Anti got covered he was held down and got himself matching Anti’s level of mess. And he was still grumpy about it.

“Ready to show them what we can do?” Chase asked his team, bouncing on his feet as he held the ‘gun’ one of the workers had given him. 

“I don’t really have a-ow!” Mad didn’t get to finish before Marvin was elbowing him. “Totally ready!” He said that instead and then cringed at how weird that felt and sounded.

“Totally ready.” Phantom echoed in a teasing tone that turned into a laugh when Mad glared at him. 

“Let’s go!” Chase cheered and sprinted into a game room first. 

He blinked fast, getting his eyes adjusted to the different lighting. He loved the fun colors, could hear the music playing from speakers above, songs that he knew all too well and he felt like he was in an action film. All eyes were on him as he ducked through the foam walls that turned the room into a maze. He was the protagonist who would save the day by taking out anyone in his way.

This was so cool!

Chase leaped over a short foam wall and with the biggest grin and the tip of his tongue sticking out, he quickly ‘shot’ Google in the back. Google looked down at the red light on his chest, shrugged, and walked off. Chase turned and saw Henrik chasing after Edward, both laughing and Henrik suddenly stopped, the light on his chest going red and a cheer from Wilford giving away that he had been the one to take him out.

“You made it to twenty seconds.” Edward chuckled.

“And you made it to twenty-five.” Henrik pointed at Edwad’s chest, light now red as well. 

“Gotcha!” Chase called out, smiling as both doctors laughed some more and waved at him as they went to the side with Google. 

“Doube-team!? Really!?” Marvin’s voice huffed from behind a foam wall that reached the ceiling. Chase looked around and saw Yancy and Illinois with Marvin. 

“Most of yous got magic, we can use tag team.” Yancy chuckled. 

“Maybe you’ll get us next-” Illinois stopped when his light went red.

“Wait, how-” Yancy stopped as well and his own light also went red. 

“You two got too cocky.” Chase grinned as he stepped out of his hiding spot. He then went to Marvin and bowed. “You’ve been avenged.”

“I’ll be sure to reward you for that later.” Marvin giggled, slipping off Chase’s hat to kiss the top of his head. 

“Gross.” Yancy stuck his tongue out.

“Gross? I could be so much blunter. I’m going to suck-”

“Nope, nope, nope. I hear nothing!” Yancy covered his ears and walked away. 

“Have fun, but don’t hurt yourself,” Marvin said to Chase, giving him one more quick kiss on the cheek before heading off with Illinois.

“I’m shocked you don’t already have something planned for tonight,” Illinois commented.

“Oh, I do~” 

“Sorry blueberry.” Wilford’s voice behind Chase told him that JJ’s was out. His team was still ahead, but only by one. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” Bing was scrambling past Chase, not seeing him. “Shit!” His last curse was one of disappointment at his light going red. 

“I hide in the shadows.” Chase played up his voice and Bing laughed. 

“I’ll get ya next round, dude.” Bing saluted and went off to sit with Google. 

“That leaves Wil, Dark, and Mare.” Chase listed off. 

“Does it just vibrate or does it make a noise?” Mad’s voice sounded worried but Chase had learned the difference between his actual worry and the exaggerated worried voice Anti and Marvin taught him to use when it came to Mare. 

Meaning that Mare was with Mad. 

Chase snuck around the foam walls and saw Mad and Mare. Even though Mare knew the worry in Mad’s voice wasn’t real, he still couldn’t help but fall for it every time. Chase found it sweet how Mare’s first thought was Mad’s safety and comfort, knowing he was the same way with Marvin. He also knew that Mad only ever used that voice with Mare when someone else told him to. Phantom was likely-

“Oh, you shit!” Mare turned when his light went red, glaring over at Phantom who was laughing. “That’s a cheap move!” 

“Sorry.” Mad gave Mare an apology kiss. 

“I did not want to see that.” Phantom covered his eyes with a hand. “Not worth-” He paused and his jaw dropped at seeing his red light. “Who the fuck-Mad!” 

“Oh.” Mad’s light was now red as well. 

Chase slipped away, knowing that it meant either Dark or Wilford was hiding somewhere and had gotten Mad and Phantom. He still had Jackie and Anti running around, or at least he assumed so since if one of them had gotten out, he would have heard them. 

“Mother fucker!”

And there goes Anti. 

Chase was wondering how he hadn’t seen Jackie yet. He wasn’t the most…stealthy Septiceye with how much he likes to run and jump and climb around. 

At the thought of climbing, Chase looked up and chuckled. He found Jackie sitting on top of one of the foam walls and the way his head was tilted meant he had eyes on one of the remaining Ipliers. 

“Got’cha Dark!” Jackie laughed in victory. “Ah, damn it!” Chase didn’t need to see anything to know that Wilford got Jackie.

It was now a showdown between Chase and Wilford. 

“Oh, Chase~” Wilford sang with a chuckle. 

“So not creepy,” Chase said to himself and sank down, sneaking between some of the tighter spaces between foam chunks, knowing Wilford wouldn’t be able to do the same. He had to slap a hand over his mouth to stop the sound of surprise from coming out when Wilford was suddenly on top of one of the foam blocks beside him. 

“Where are you?” Wilford was singing again as he looked around. 

“Right here!” Chase laughed and shot Wilford.

“Green team wins.” A voice said through the speaker and cheers broke out from most of the other Egos. 

“I did even think you’d go for low.” Wilford helped Chase out of the space and hoisted him up, sitting him on his shoulder. “Round one goes to Chase!” 

“Chase! Chase! Chase!” The chant from his teammates had Chase feeling bright and warm. 

He really loved the chaotic family he had. 

#veggie writes #trickshot #madmare #some #bingle #if you squint XD #dapperstache

[gardens-light]

The Girl Online

Don't know about you guys. But sometimes watching my old favorites brings back childhood/teen-hood crushes. Raphael and Leonardo. Currently writing ideas for Mickey.

During his down time, Donatello mainly played online games to get away from what felt like a rather lonely existence. The digital world gave him the freedom to mingle with others-in a way, without compromising his family secret. Most of his friendships online was rather short-term, and Donatello didn't mind it. Therefore his long-term friendship with you, came to him as a pleasant surprise.

Hours of gameplay rolled into months. Creating a bond between the pair of you. The cute nicknames and odd flirtatious comments became apart of your regular convocations. But it soon leaded to something more spicy...

Content- Cyber-Intercourse. Male and female masterbation. Courage language. Dildo BJ. Fingering.

"Enemy is right where we want him, Big Boy."

His cheeks darkened to a slight darker shade of green. The nickname always causing him to blush whenever it escaped your voice, and through his headset. A slight chuckle breathed down his microphone, while typing the commands upon his keyboard.

"Shot is lined up, and ready on your command, Baby Girl." A smile tugged at his lips, as your angelic laughter flowed through his ears. Donatello didn't had to see you in person, to know you were blushing.

His chosen Hero lined up their majestic weapon towards the final dungeon master. And with a few clicks of a mouse, the villain's health bar vanished, leaving the NPC body drop to the floor and fade away. Leaving behind rare loot for you and Donatello to pick up, and upgrade your characters.

"Yes!! Totally worth the grooling four hours! Champion's of World of Warcraft! Right here!" the turtle cheered gesturing to himself and his screen.

Your laughter was like a melody through his headset. "I am having a victory sip of Red Bull, right now. And I believe we'll be in an agreement, when I say, that's enough for one night."

Donatello let out a sigh, "yes, in complete agreement. It's like you've read my mind."

Exiting the game and bringing up Discord, the terrapin smile widened, once your features took up his screen.

"So? Any plans for the remaining of this evening?" You asked, while adjusting your hair and re-tying it into a messy bun.

Donatello slouched in his gaming chair, gently swaying around. "No. I mean... there's a few things I should do, but I'm feeling lazy and putting it off till tomorrow."

You unknowingly returned his smile, since on your end all you could see was the terrapin's chosen thumbnail. Only hearing the audio of his voice.

"What things are those?" You asked.

Donatello looked over to his work table, which stood in the middle of his lab. The surface littered with unfinished projects and inventions. "Oh... just a couple of things, my brothers want me to work on. I've been working it straight for the past couple of days, so tonight's distraction was welcomed."

"As always" he quickly added, turning his attention back on the screen.

Your cheeky smile caused him to raise an invisible eyebrow. Your voice changing into a teasing tone, "oh... so you wanted a distraction, Big Boy?"

"U-Um... yeah. Y'know?... Our usual gaming plans..."

As a small amber begun to build in your core. Watching you bite your bottom lip softly, made an unusual feeling spun within Donatello's chest.

"Maybe I could provide another distraction tonight...?"

The terrapin pulled a weak smile, "l-like what, Y/N?"

A flutter build in his chest, as his nerdy heart skipped a beat. His hazel eyes watching your hands slowly slide down the curves of your torso. His gaze widening as your fingers gently curled around the hem of your geeky shirt, and slowly pulled it upwards.

You could hear his deep and unsteady breathes through your Airpods. The low mutters of Donatello whimpering into your ears, as more of your torso became exposed. Pulling off the shirt and carelessly throwing it onto your bedroom floor, Donatello's jaw hung low and opened mouthed.

The sight of you in his colour. A bra adorned with lace, pushed up your cleavage to a stunning view, while the undergarment highlighted the delicate curves of your bust. Giving the terrapin a indeed good view. His breath got stuck in his throat, as you stepped away a little from the montor, but still in view of the camera. A whimper breathed through your Airpods, while you slowly yet teasingly. Took off your silky PJ bottoms, revealing a matching set of mini-briefs, which elegantly showed off the curves of your thighs and behind.

"O-Oh... baby-I-I mean Y/N-"

"You can call me, baby. If you want... Big Boy."

The nickname rolling of your tongue quickly took hold of a whole new feeling for Donatello. A deep green flushed his cheeks, fluttering feeling within his chest butterflied, and rolled into a strong amber within his core. His wide eyes watched you come a little closer to your monitor again, placing your hands a little forward onto your chair as you leaned forward.

Knowing he had a better view of your cleavage, caused your amber within your core to roll into a dim fire.

"I've been wanting to do this for a while." Your flirtatious tone admitted, "having a little... 'fun' between us. Should be the perfect distraction for you. How are you feeling?"

A nervous chuckle escaped into his headset, while a weak smile lingered upon his lips. "M-Me? Oh! Um... a-a little surprised. Nervous. U-Unexpected..."

His voice died down into whimpers of pleasure again. As the act of you playfully foundling with your breasts distracted him. Heavy breathing fogged up his glasses, while a tight sensation begun to build around his crotch.

"Turn your camera on, Donnie"

Your sweet pleading voice, echoing an innocent tone drove his mind into a spin. Looking down at the bulge in his jeans, Donatello's words begun to stumble out of his mouth.

"B-Baby Girl, if you keep doing this... I-I'm afraid of what might follow."

"Am I making you uncomfortable?"

Your sympathetic tone caught his attention. His eyes watched your posture slowly shift into a less seductive position. The terrapin's heart skipped a beat.

"Oh! No! Never! I-Is this moment unexpected? Yes. Am I a little nervous, but also turned on? Also yes. But you could never make me feel nervous. I-I mean, you're gorgeous!"

Your shy smile caused your blushing cheeks to spread the redness downwards.

"See? Right there! How you tuck a bit of hair behind your ear, whenever you're shy. You have no idea how much I look forward to hearing your voice on our 'game nights.' Or how it never matters, how shit my day goes, all I need is your smile to get me through."

"Donnie-"

"No, I'm serious! Having a girl like you, willing... wanting to do... with a geek like me? Man..."

Your sweet giggle echoed throughout Donatello's headset.

Although he always claimed to not really do well with expressing emotions. Donatello never failed on how to build your confidence, and make you comfortable. You knew he was extremely self-conscious of his appearance. Even the odd photo that he sent you (which you didn't know was digitally altered), only somewhat gave you an mental image of what he looked like. So you didn't want to ruin the moment by trying and convince him of turning on his camera. After all... you were only planning of putting on a show for him...

A cheeky, seductive smile returned to your lips. As you brung your legs up onto the seat of your gaming chair, and knelt against the soft leather. Propping yourself up a little, and adjusting your seating to sit on your feet. With one hand fumbling your breast and the other slowly working it's way down towards your core.

"Hey Baby Girl, what... oh, oh shit."

Your sweet giggles soon turned into whimpers of pleasure. Donatello's cheeks flushed a deeper green, as his wide hazel eyes watched you pleasure yourself. Moans leaving your voice sounded heavenly, as his kaiak jeans begun to feel too tight and restricting his erection.

Your breasts lightly bounced with each moment of your body. Heavy breaths moaned into your earpiece, as your roaming fingers pumped, massaged and slid into your wet entrance. Your hand stopped fumbling your breasts, and moved up towards your collar bone. Feeling your neck and toying with the small golden necklace. Before reaching up towards your lips, and seductively gave your index finger a suttle bite.

Your soft moans and whimpers of his name, caused Donatello's mind to enter a frantic spin. And his pulsing erection pressing tightly against his jeans certainly wasn't helping. His hands gripped onto the armrests' of his gaming chair, nail's digging into the torn fabric.

"Oh Donnie" your inccocent tone whimpered. "Are you just gonna sit there and watch me have all the fun?"

Don't say it! Don't say it! Don't say it!-

"Baby Girl, I want you on your knees!" words stumbled out of his mouth. But it was all that your ambered fire needed to build and burst through your core.

"Oh yea? And do what Donnie?" your teasing voice asked between whimpers.

With his mind clouded and too in the zone to think properly, Donatello's words slowly strung themselves together. "I want you on your knees, and put your mouth over something."

A small giggle escaped your lips, and a small, satisfying squish sound came to the terrapin's ears. As your fingers left your wet sweet spot. Watching you seductively lick off your sent, which dripped down your two fingers. Ripped a heavy sigh from Donatello's lips.

His gaze remained focused on you, as you speechlessly followed his order.

"You want something in my mouth, Donnie? I've got this which should create a nice image for you."

A small chuckle left Donatello's lips, as you held up a rather thick and green dildo.

"Oh yeah, baby. That's certainly gonna create an mental image alright."

Moving his camera close to his keyboard, and tiling the cam onto a lower angle. Donatello swallowed down his nerves before turning his camera online.

As you lowered yourself onto the floor, kneeling against the carpet. Donatello watched your eyes widen a little, as the close up of his crotch area came into view upon your monitor.

"D-Donnie...?"

"P-Please forgive and ignore my appearance right now." His tone temporarily switched to his usual sweet geeky tone. "Right now... I-I just want you to look up at me, while you suck off that dildo."

"Yes Donnie."

Your simple reply was all Donatello needed to fuel his confidence, and unfasten his zipper. Allowing his erection spring through the opening and glisten with pre-cum. Without a word, your lips found their way to the tip of the dildo. Your wide eyes watched the terrapin gently fondle with his balls, as your tongue licked and slid underneith of the dildo's shaft.

With a free hand, Donatello placed a flesh-light at the tip of his cock. Moans slipped into his headset, as the small vibrations of the toy erupted the sparks of excitement throughout his body. After watching you tease the dildo's shaft and tip with your tongue, Donatello slowly pushed his cock into the flesh-light.

His low grunts mixed in with your muffled moans. Moving the toy against him, in time with your mouth around the dildo. The terrapin leaned back into his chair, allowing his eyes to roll into the back of his head. Imaging your mouth sliding up and down his erection.

"Yeah... yeah. Baby Girl. Suck it."

Donatello's eyes fluttered open, as he heard your muffled moans slowly pick up peace. He focused back onto his computer screen, the view before him caused moans to escape from him. This would forever be imprinted in his mind.

From his point of view, he could just see the green dildo. Your plump lips moving around the toy, as your saliva made it glisten underneath your desk lamp. Your tongue gliding, cradling along the bottom of the shaft, each mouth movement ending in a lustful kiss upon the tip. Which you always looked up at your camera, knowing the terrapin had a perfect view.

The flesh-light kept up with your peace, creating a full emerged moment for the pair of you. A wondering hand of yours returned to your soaked entrance, allowing your breasts bounce with each moment as your hips bucked against your hand. Your free hand holding onto the dildo's base, pinning it against your keyboard as you begun to slowly deep throat the toy. The flesh-light glided along Donatello's member, like your lips effortlessly moved against the dildo. His balls became heavy, and knew his climax was building up.

Fireworks and bursting ambers erupted in both of your cores. Soon your moans and whimpers filled the air within your ears. Your mouth moved away from the dildo as you begun to jerk off the toy.

"Donnie! Donnie!"

"Yeah! Yeah! Baby Girl!-"

"Hey Donnie! What are you doing?"

An unexpected voice from the doorway, caused a small yelp to leave Donatello's throat. Quickly tucking himself under his desk, feeling the flesh-light fill with his cum. His hazel eyes darted around his lab, till they landed onto his younger brother.

"M-Mickey! I've told you not to disturb me while I'm in my lab!"

The young sibling raised an invisible brow, "but I heard weird noises coming from your room and I wanted to know if you were ok."

Donatello wiped the droplets of sweat off his brow, while momentarily removing his headset, so your constant moans couldn't distract him from attempting to recompose himself. He'd never been so thankful of placing his P.C set up in the corner of his lab.

"Are you ok...?"

The purpled masked turtle took a few deep breaths before answering his innocent brother.

"Yeah... yeah, Mickey, I'm fine."

"What was with the funny noises?-"

"I-I was playing a game. With ba- Y/N, my online friend. W-We're playing a ah- horror game. Resident Evil!... Eight! Super scary. Sorry for disturbing you Mickey. O-Our gaming session has finished, so I promise you'll won't hear anymore... funny noises."

"Ok! No problem. You didn't disturb me. I just wanted to make sure you were ok."

Donatello pulled a weak smile. "Th-Thanks Mickey... Goodnight."

Donatello counted to five after his brother left his sights. Slowly turning his attention back onto you, whom now was still kneeling against your bedroom floor but covered in the pretend cum from the dildo. Since he tucked himself a little more under his desk, in attempt to hide himself from Mickey. All you could see was Donatello's waist and small bit of his lower abdomen was in your view. He removed the flesh-light from his member, before running a hand over his smooth head, and adjusted his glasses.

"I-I'm sorry, Y/N. Y'know... about my brother walking in."

Your sweet laughter assured him that the intimate moment wasn't ruined, as you grabbed a nearby towel and cleaned yourself off.

"It's ok, Donnie. It was quite an expirience. There's no way I'm going to sleep peacefully tonight."

"You're telling me... this is forever imbedded in my memory, and I certainly wouldn't want it any other way."

A shy smile came to your lips, as the towel slowly folded into your lap. "Can we... do this again sometime...?"

"Fuck yes, Baby Girl! And perhaps... maybe in person someday...?"

Your flirtatious wink made Donatello's little geeky heart flutter again.

"I would love that, Big Boy..."

#teenage mutant ninja turtle imagine #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #tmnt bayverse #bayverse turtles #bayverse donatello #tmnt x reader #tmnt donatello #tmnt donnie #donatello x reader #x reader #x fem reader #fanfic #gardens light #donnie x reader #bayverse x reader

[outstandingblue]

Promises to Keep

Eleven - We Can't

recom!miles quaritch x fem!na'vi oc

| Masterlist | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen |

Way to be your own cock block.

cross-posted on ao3 here content warning: allusions to sex, sexual thoughts, allusions to sa (not detailed by any means) word count: 6.7k (remember when i wrote chapters that were barely pushing 2.5k lol)

Miles was too engrossed in his own physical sensations to hear Jiniraa’s whispers as he moved them out of the hallway, into the security of his little apartment. He wanted this - he wanted her. To feel her body against his, to hear the sounds she’d make, to taste everything her body had to offer. All that and more. 

He felt her body shiver in excitement, muscles tightening and blood rushing to his crotch as his brain created mental images of how he expected to spend the next few hours. 

The automatic door closed, plunging the pair into complete darkness. Miles didn’t dare try and turn on a light. To do so, he’d have to sacrifice his grip on her. Even if it was just for a moment it wouldn’t be worth it. He wouldn’t dare let her go. Not now and maybe not ever. 

His pants tightened as her body slid slightly down his torso, brushing against the tent forming in his pants. He could feel her heat through her shorts. He could feel his body pulsating with excitement, ready for what was about to happen. 

He opened his eyes, not even realizing they had closed at some point, only to be met with those green eyes. They were no longer teary, rather they were half closed in desire and half a shade darker than their usual hue. A lusty expression etched on her face. 

She shifted in his grasp, wanting to be put down. He reluctantly complied, but caged her in with his arms. Because of their height difference, he has to crane his head down to continue watching her. His hungry eyes began tracing the bioluminescent dots. Those damned dots. He gently brushed hair off her sounder, exposing more skin to his gaze. She shivered under his touch as he traced the markings on her collarbone. 

“Miles…”

Oh God - the sound of her voice almost had him falling to his knees. He could feel her hands pawing at the material of his tank top. It was a pitiful attempt - the material was tightly tucked into his belt. She gave up and directed her touch to his bare arms, caressing up and down. Feeling the muscles tighten as she ventured along. Her touches were bold - she wasn’t giving feathery touches like Miles. No, she was pressing and gripping, desperately trying to feel more of him.

She felt cold as his hand left her collarbone, eyes closing to protest the loss of sensation. Not even a moment later, his hand found a new home along her jaw. It looked and felt gigantic against her smaller face. She didn’t seem to mind as she lent into the warmth, reveling in the touch. 

Her ears turned down. It wasn’t in hostility or rage - like Miles had seen before - this was in complete satisfaction, ease, and submission. A smirk pulled at the corner of Miles’ mouth, one sharp canine poking out. She’d become so complacent in his grip so quickly. Without even a second of rebellion. 

Miles noted the faint purple that dashed the tips of her downturned ears. That hadn’t been there before. Blood was rushing around her body as she grew more and more excited. She was blushing. 

Although she was enjoying stroking his arms, Jiniraa slid one hand to grasp the wrist holding her face. It wasn’t a tight grip, but it also wasn’t a loose one. If he wasn’t staring at her face with such intensity he probably would’ve noticed it sooner. She was making sure he wasn’t pulling away, keeping his hand still - afraid this moment would come to a screeching halt.

“Miles…” she whispered for the third time. Miles hadn’t dared to utter a sound since his apology in the hallway. Her eyes opened once more, reconnecting them in the darkness. A millennium of evolution made it possible for Jiniraa to see Miles in the dark. It wasn’t as clear as day, but he looked better than ever. Her eyes traced his cheekbones, defined by the shadows of the dark. His nose was twitching at her scent. His ears were flickering at every little sound her body produced. She tilted her head, taking in his features as she noticed cropped ears. She never noticed them before. Much smaller and pointer than the average male Na’vi, but it fit his personality and his physique. 

She returned to his hungry eyes, lidded over and mirroring her own expression. She watched a damp tongue slip out, wetting his lips. 

“Jiniraa,” his voice was rough, deepened by his desire. At some point, his other hand found a place on her waist. He allowed his fingers to slip under her top, nails skimming her skin just enough to make their presence known. Her breath shuddered as he grazed the underside of her breast with one finger. His own breath caught in his throat at her breathy gasp.

Her gaze dipped down, now pointed straight ahead at his chest. Not going to happen. His grip on her jaw tightened slightly, making her look back up at him. Her ears were even darker now, she was embarrassed by the way it made her feel. 

Miles held her gaze, breath heavy, as he began to lean his head down. He was being soft, tentative with his movements afraid if he was too fast or too rough she’d dart away and never come back. 

In reality? Miles wanted nothing more than to pick her up and push her against the wall before ravaging her for all she was worth. He wouldn’t stop until she was shaking in overstimulation, covered in a layer of sweat and cum. His cum. Marking her and making her feel good. He was restraining himself right now. Barely. If he felt her graze against his solid member even the slightest he wouldn’t be able to stop till his carnal desires were fulfilled. 

He paused right before their lips touched. They traded heat back and forth. Bodies pulled together. Breaths intertwine.

Thoughts were raging in her head, so many voices fighting that not a single one could be understood. 

She wanted to give in, give into the pull that was so clearly between them. Stop this dancing game. But then again - if his lips touched hers, there would be no going back - it’s a line you can never uncross. If his mouth touched hers, she was going to give in without a second thought. She would be his in mind, body, and soul. 

His breath was shuttering at their proximity, muscles spazzing.

She couldn’t give in, no matter how much her body wanted to give herself to him. 

Miles ended his momentary pause, beginning to move once more. He felt a force against his chest. It wasn’t like that pitiful pawing from earlier. It was firm and planted, unmoving. She could feel the outline of his dog tags pressing against her palm. 

Miles momentarily tightened his grip on her as she tried to push him away. He pulled his head back, giving her space, wide eyes searching her face for an explanation. 

“Miles…” that sweet, sweet voice. His eyes flickered back down - maybe she just needed a moment to catch her breath before they proceeded. 

“Miles.” Her voice was firm this time, making Miles stop in his tracks. Utterly frozen six inches from her face, he opened his eyes once more. When he saw her face, he wanted nothing more than to erase the image that stared back. Teary eyes, big green teary eyes. 

A single tear escaped, but the floodgates didn’t open. Miles took a step back, moving his hand from her waist to her face, enclosing her head between two huge palms. He couldn’t tell what was wrong. Did he accidentally hurt her when he picked her up? Was it from the fall earlier? Something else?

A sad smile creeped on her face as she tilted her head to the side, nuzzling her cheek into Miles’ palm. He was confused - she was crying, but also smiling?

“Sweetheart?” He asked tentatively, the lusty bedroom voice from earlier was gone. The moment he saw those tears, the thought of their bodies intertwined was the last thing on his mind. She didn’t respond, so he was forced to hopelessly watch her lip begin to quiver. That sad, sad smile remained on her face. 

“Jiniraa?” He tried again. Her eyes closed, another tear slipped out. He hastily wiped it away, despising the trail it left behind on her skin. Staining her perfect skin. 

“I…we can’t,” she whispered. One hand began to travel along his arm once more. He couldn’t tell if she was trying to comfort herself or him. Her eyes followed the movement of her hand as it rose and fell with the taut muscles, an excuse to not look into his unrelenting gaze. 

Miles waited silently for more explanation, but it didn’t seem he was going to get one. He guided her head once more to connect their eyes together. Her head rolled along, not resisting the movement at all. That was a good sign. 

“We can’t what, sweetheart?”

She went silent. He watched the tips of her ears turn purple once more as her body flushed, “we can't do what we both wanted to do just now.”

The words slipped out of her mouth at record speed. If he wasn’t hanging onto her every word, he would have missed the jumble of words. An overly wordy explanation as she danced around the term - sex, fuck, sleep together, hook up - however you’d like to describe it. Sex wasn’t a taboo in Na’vi culture. It was part of nature and not something to be ashamed of. Jiniraa had never been embarrassed discussing sex with anyone before, but once she found herself faced with Miles it did something to her. 

A frown formed on Miles’ face - not because they weren’t going to proceed, but because of what he saw. He hadn’t noticed it till just now. Her one hand was traversing across his arm and the other was shaking between their torsos. It clearly was ready to shoot up and push against his chest if he didn’t listen to her. To fight back he tried to force her. His chest involuntarily tightened - she’d actually had that thought. It didn’t matter if it was subconscious or not. 

He dropped his hand from her face, letting it softly grasp the hand hovering near her waist. His hand was huge, wrapping around her smaller hand. The gauze around his knuckles scratched at her palm. She let out a breath, not knowing how he would take her refusal. 

“That’s okay, sweetheart.”

There wasn’t any hesitation in his voice. She looked into his eyes, trying to see if there was any deceit or contempt behind them. There wasn’t. She trusted her ability to read people, trusting he was genuine in his word. It actually was okay. 

“It’s just…” she trailed off, trying to find the words. He didn’t say anything, giving her the time and space to articulate what she was feeling. “It’s just…we aren’t a mated pair.”

He nodded, recalling a conversation they had weeks ago during one of their language lessons. He knew a little bit about mates in Na’vi culture - it was a bond one could not break, sacred and till death. Once a pair was mated, there was no getting out of it. No haphazard one-night stands or fuck buddies like he’d been used to as a human. 

Jiniraa wanted to say more, but she felt if she tried to give him a further explanation, she’d only find herself digging a hole with her words.

Miles brushed away a third and final tear. He watched for a second before leaning down, she held her breath thinking he would press their mouths together. He didn’t. He gently pressed their foreheads together as his eyes closed. She felt his muscles relax under her hand at their physical touch. It was clear how much he enjoyed skin to skin contact. 

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” his charm was back. She watched a sharp canine poke out as he smirked through his words. It wasn’t malicious at all, rather reassuring. Almost a smile. She nodded against his forehead, letting her eyes close as well. Neither dared to move, afraid to ruin the intimate moment. 

She stayed still for a minute or two, feeling his breath caress her face. Miles froze when Jiniraa’s hand moved to rest against his cheek, mirroring the grip he had on her. She held his jaw still as she began to move her head, gently moving towards his shoulder. Her head found its final resting place tucked into the crook of his neck. 

Jiniraa contemplated her next action for a long moment. She really wanted to do it, but it probably wouldn’t be the best course of action. Against her better judgment, she went forward with it anyway. She leaned forward, pressing a feather-light kiss at the base of his jugular. Miles felt all his strength leave at the contact - he had to lock his knees to keep himself from falling over. He swallowed, fighting to repress the thoughts that arose at her innocent (or not so innocent) brush. 

“Thank you, Miles.” She whispered against his skin, leaning back against his shoulder. 

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” Miles replied, matching her whisper. He didn’t feel the sentiment was clear, so he repeated himself once more, “anything.”

Neither knew how long they stayed wrapped in each other’s arms. At some point, Miles began to sway their bodies back and forth. Just the slightest movement. No need for grandeur, content with feeling the skin of their counterpart and hearing their soft breathing. 

Jiniraa’s ears twitched as Miles’ chest began to reverberate with a hum. It was a song he’d heard on Earth; the tune was etched into his memories, but the words were lost in time. Well - it was from the human Quaritch’s memories, not his own. He had to keep reminding himself of the fact.

Jiniraa basked in the soft embrace, feeling more content than ever. His arms had slipped around her waist at some point, resting against the small of her back. Her head had migrated from his neck to his hard chest. In return, his head rested on top of her hair. He felt her yawn before pressing closer to his warmth. He pulled back slightly, only making enough room that he could see her face. 

“Tired?” She nodded silently, continuing to lean against him. Miles sighed, taking a step back and unwrapping her from his grip. He smiled as she whined from the loss of contact. 

“Can I stay here…just for tonight?” She asked, brushing hair out of her face. How could he deny a voice like that?

He thought about reaching down and taking her into his arms again, but ultimately decided against it. Maybe it wouldn’t be the best idea after what happened earlier today. He nudged her with his hand, directing her towards his bed. She staggered over, exhausting catching up with her as her limbs felt a thousand times heavier than usual. 

She didn’t notice that Miles disappeared from behind her until he clicked on a small lamp, illuminating the room enough to see everything clearly. Both sets of dots dimmed slightly. She wasn’t shocked at the state of his little homestead. It didn’t even look like anyone lived here. Everything was meticulously placed and organized. The only evidence that someone occupied the space was the gear sitting on the desk, haphazardly thrown there. He dropped it on the desk when they returned yesterday, unable to pack away before going on his miniature rampage. 

She awkwardly paused in front of his bed, turning to face him when she didn’t know what to do next. She was anxiously fiddling with her fingers, shivering as the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. 

“Yeah - thermostat is broken or somethin’. Just gets colder and colder,” he was already waiting with a dark sweatshirt, hands extending as he pushed it to her. “You’re gonna want this.”

She nodded, thanking him with a smile. He expected her to slip it over her pre-existing outfit, but the tank she’d been wearing was incredibly uncomfortable and she wanted nothing more than to take it off. Miles’ watched as her hands reached for the bottom hem, not hesitating the slightest. 

He hastily spun towards the door to provide some privacy. He was a gentleman, he wouldn’t dare look at a lady while she changed. Even though he wanted to take a quick peek. He scratched the back of his neck, rocking on his heels as his tail swayed at the same cadence. It was the first time he’d seen him nervous. She giggled softly, failing to suppress the urge to laugh at him.

“Hey - whatcha laughin’ at?” Miles grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest as his rocking stopped. 

“Nothing,” she answered. He only hummed in response, obviously not believing her. 

She didn’t know it, but this was the very sweatshirt he slept in every night to protect against the cold. He couldn’t sleep when he was cold. The sweatshirt was soft against her skin, engulfing her body. It smelled like Miles. It was long enough that it just barely showed the bottom of the shorts she was wearing. She wanted to take those off as well, but decided against it. They weren't too uncomfortable.

Miles turned, feeling a light tap against his back. She stood in front of him, holding the flimsy material of her black tank in her hands. 

“Uh - looks good on ya,” Miles managed to squeeze out. He didn’t know what he was thinking when he offered her that article of clothing. He turned away, haphazardly going through his drawers to grab a part of sweats for himself. He didn’t make eye contact as he dashed towards the bathroom, trying to hide the bulge growing in his pants. 

Jiniraa took a seat at the desk, not wanting to climb into the bed before he returned. It didn’t feel right to invade his space like that. She turned towards the contents of the desk, finding herself drawn to a small metal tin pushed against the wall and the corner. A dark leather watch and silver ring rested on the case. She didn’t dare reach out to the trinkets, but she was too engrossed in her observations to realize that Miles returned.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” His voice made her jump in the seat, not expecting he was back. She didn’t respond as he walked closed and loomed over her shoulder. Jiniraa could feel the heat of his chest as he stood behind her. He followed her gaze, landing on the human-sized objects. He reached over and grabbed both items, dwarfing them in his Na’vi hands.

She turned her head to look at him, finally noticing he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He had decided against it. The room may be cold, but he knew he would feel like he was on fire if Jiniraa in his bed cuddled against him all night. She gulped as her eyes trailed over the muscles that covered his chest and abdomen; she’d seen the way his tight tank tops hugged his broad chest and narrow waist, but that was nothing compared to seeing him like this: all laid out and bare. 

“What are those?” 

“Ah - so this is a watch.” Miles replied back, dead serious. 

“I know what a watch is, Miles,” she snapped back. He laughed, a deep laugh rooted in his stomach. He was cracking up at his own joke. It might’ve been stupid, but she felt a familiar heat blooming in her chest at the sound. 

“Sorry, sorry, it was too easy to pass up on,” his laughing subsided and he turned more serious. “My Momma gave me this watch the day I graduated from boot.”

“Boot camp?” Jiniraa quizzed back, making sure they were on the same page. She’d heard some of Jake’s stories about boot camp. 

“Yeah - she was so proud of me when I became a Marine, even though she was scared. She never wanted me to join the Corps.”

His voice trailed off. He could remember little snips about his mother. He could remember her cooking for Sunday dinner and the smell of her floral perfume, but not everything. He couldn’t remember the sound of her voice. He knew she liked to sing, but he couldn’t remember what she sounded like. That hurt the most. Then again, she technically wasn’t his mother. She was the mother of the other Quaritch. He didn’t have a mother - he was grown artificially in a lab by scientists playing God. 

He knew Jiniraa would say that Eywa was his mother now if he shared those thoughts. Maybe one day.

“The ring?” Jiniraa’s voice was soft.

Miles laughed, flipping it over in his palm, “it was the engagement ring my father proposed with. A family heirloom or something. She gave it to me before I left for Pandora, saying if I found a worthwhile woman I should use it.” Jiniraa nodded as he continued. “He never ended up using it.”

“He?”

“The other Quaritch.” 

Jiniraa nodded, not wanting to pry any further. His tone made it seem like she’d struck a nerve. A yawn racked her body, pulling Miles from his memories. She turned around in the chair, leaning against its back as she almost fell asleep right then and there. 

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed.” Miles carefully placed the items back on the metal tin, pushing them into their former positions. It looked like a museum display. The only remaining artifacts of Colonel Miles Quaritch, Head of Security on Pandora. He found out his mother died while he was in transport from Earth to Pandora. The first thing Quaritch learned after waking up from his slumber. He never got to say goodbye. Then again, he wasn’t that man and these weren’t things from his Momma.

“Have you eaten today?” Jiniraa asked through another yawn, rubbing at her eyes. “You weren’t at breakfast or lunch. There’s still a chance for you to get dinner.”

“Yeah, I ate, don’t worry ‘bout me,” he lied through his teeth. As if on cue, his stomach growled. Her eyes narrowed at him. He was hungry, but it wasn’t his top priority. 

“No, no. You need to eat,” she reached for his wrist, checking the time, “dinner is still being served. We have time.”

Miles groaned like a teenager being scolded for not doing his homework. He didn’t want to leave the little bubble they’d created - their own little safe haven. What would happen on the other side of that door? They were going to be careful with all the watchful eyes that walked the halls of Bridgehead. 

Based on the look in her eyes, he knew she wasn’t going to budge. They were going to go to dinner, regardless of how tired she was. 

“Fine,” he agreed, “but we go there, we eat, we come right back. You’re going to bed right after we get back. You need to sleep. Got it?”

She smiled, knowing she’d won. The exhaustion seemed to leave her body as she danced across the room, waiting by his door. He grumbled once more before quickly changing back into his fatigues and tank. He wasn’t able to see her pout as he laced up his boots. 

“You leavin’ that on?” He grabbed the sweatshirt between two rough fingers before tracing the small Deja Blue logo.

“Well, I’m not putting that tank top back on, so unless you want me to go topless-” she began, waving a hand in the air, drawing out her syllables longer than necessary. 

“Nope. Let’s go.” Her voice was cut short at Miles’ gruff veto.

“That’s what I thought.” She countered.

Wherever Jiniraa went, there were eyes that followed. This was old news. The humans at Bridgehead always stared at all of the Recoms - Spider and Jiniraa were even more intriguing to watch. For once, Jiniraa didn’t cower into herself as gazes followed her every move. Her head was held high, shoulders pulled back while she walked with confidence. Bare feet softly padded against the cool metal ground. Maybe it was something about the sweatshirt or maybe it was something about having Miles walk beside her, the loud thud of his boots starkly contrasting her light steps. Maybe it was a mix of both - probably a mix of both. 

Miles had been on high alert from the second they left the security of his room, but the moment they entered the mess hall, his attentiveness increased ten-fold. He scanned the room, taking note of the humans that buzzed around like flies. Miles' eyes flicked towards the assigned Recom table, the largest one in the room, built specifically to accommodate the larger bodies. He almost let out a sigh of relief seeing it was empty. Thank God, he thought, without those dipshits we’ll get done eating faster. 

Almost like he was summoned, the boisterous whooping of a certain Lyle Wainfleet echoed from the otherside of the door. Fuck.

Miles shepherded Jiniraa into the chow line, trying to keep their presence a secret as long as possible. It was a pointless attempt - being a nine and a half foot tall blue alien was going to make it pretty hard to blend into a crowd of humans. 

“Colonel!”

Miles groaned, head falling back in exasperation. There was no escaping it now. It’s not like they ever had a chance to escape Lyle. He always managed to find the Colonel, no matter how hard he tried to hide.

“Lyle,” Miles curtly acknowledged with a tight smile. His feet remained planted firmly on the ground, only twisting his torso to look back. As long as he didn’t move, Jiniraa would be kept out of their sight. Once again, a stupid attempt as she leaned to the side and waved towards the others.

“And Jiniraa too!” Lyle gasped in fake surprise, “you two are here together. Well - isn’t that an interesting outfit.”

“Wainfleet - I will neuter you.” Miles threatened with a growl and flattened ears. Lyle seemed to get the message as he gulped and backed down. 

Ja made his way around from the back of the group, maneuvering towards Jiniraa. Miles held an arm out, which Ja easily side-stepped. Trying to control the Recoms was sometimes like herding cats. 

“How you feeling?” Ja asked, leaning in to try and look at her pupils. Miles grabbed his arm, pulling him back, saying something about being smothering.

“My back hurts a bit, but I am okay,” Jiniraa responded. Miles' eyes softened from his piercing glare at the mention of her pain. “Thank you for asking, Ja.”

“Maybe you should go and visit the actual doc,” Ja suggested. Ah yes - the lovely Dr. Renia Cox. No one seemed to notice the way Mansk’s tail stiled at the mention of his favorite doctor.

“No, no. Really. I am okay, see?” Jiniraa began to lift the bottom of her sweatshirt - Miles’ sweatshirt - to show off her back without hesitation. He almost didn’t intervene. That is, until he remembered she was bare underneath.

“Hey - line is moving,” Miles called out. It was enough to distract Jiniraa from her prior plan. 

●●●

Miles was anxious to get out of the mess hall as quickly as possible. Maybe anxious wasn’t the right word - impatient. He was impatient to leave. His knee bounced, trying to dispel the excessive energy he suddenly had. 

Jiniraa was fully engrossed in conversation with the rest of the team. It seemed their plan to eat and go would not be happening. 

She’d become an entirely different woman over the past few weeks. Everyone noticed how she stopped averting her eyes three seconds into conversation. Or the way she wasn’t afraid to laugh at the Recome when they made fools of themselves. Hell, she’d even laughed at Miles earlier and grabbed his wrist without the slightest hesitation. She was growing, becoming an actual person with a fulfilled life rather than the shell of a woman she was when Miles found her in the forest. 

But this? Sitting around the table and sharing a meal with everyone? It was all a facade. It wasn’t real. None of it was real. Only a temporary arrangement. One day, Miles and the others would complete their mission and kill Jake Sully. Then what? What will happen to Jiniraa? To Spider? Miles’ stomach twisted at the thought. This mission was the sole purpose of his new life, yet he dreaded the day it was achieved. 

“Let’s wrap this up. Sweetheart, you should be resting after that fall you took.” Miles began to organize the dishes on his tray, already standing up and walking away.

Zdinarsk and Lyle shared a look, a smirk passed between the pair. 

“Yeah, make sure you go and rest, sweet cheeks,” Lyle emphasized. Jiniraa didn’t seem to get the joke as she gathered her things, bidding everyone goodnight with a yawn. 

“It’s barely eighteen-hundred, why the hell are you yawning?” Zdinarsk laughed, double-checking her watch to make sure she didn’t miss something. 

“Maybe she’s tired from other things, Z,” Lyle nudged her with a smirk. Two large hands rested on his shoulder, fingers digging into the muscle. 

“Wanna repeat that, Lyle?” The Colonel leaned down, hostility dripping from his tongue. He turned to Zdinarsk and raised a brow, daring her to say something. Lyle shook his head, almost a little too quickly. “I said it earlier - I will not hesitate to neuter you, Wainfleet.”

With a final clap of his hands against the Corporal’s shoulders, Miles turned and saw Jiniraa waiting for him.

“What was that all about?” She asked as they left the mess hall.

“Oh nothing,” he tried to keep his face neutral, but the smallest smirk twinged for a moment before disappearing, “no need to worry about it.”

●●●

The atmosphere in Miles’ apartment shifted by the time of their return. It felt cooler - not just regarding the physical temperature, which had seemed to drop as well - it wasn’t thick with lust and passion. They were experiencing a different type of intimacy as they moved around the room in comfortable silence. 

Miles quickly changed his outfit once more, hopefully for the last time today. Jiniraa waited at the desk, finding her attention drawn back to the leather watch and silver ring. There was something intriguing about the trinkets. They must’ve been deeply significant to the Colonel if they managed to survive all these years. It was impossible to ignore the twinge of pain in Miles’ voice as they discussed the objects, regardless of how he tried to cover it up.

Jiniraa’s eyes slid towards the bed. It was the same size as everyone else, designed for one body. It’ll be a tight squeeze for two. She yawned, unable to stop her body from its expression of exhaustion. It wanted nothing more than to crawl under the covers and fall asleep. Her head told her to wait - at least until Miles had returned. It was his room after all. 

As if summoned, Miles returned from the bathroom - sans shirt once again. Jiniraa’s eyes traced over his shoulders, chest, and down his stomach. Miles watched her devour his form, smirking at the reaction to his impressive physique. 

“Like what you see?” His voice exuded cockiness. The annoying thing was how he had the grounds to back up the statement. She did like what he saw. The tips of her ears flushed that dark purple color. Miles wanted to see how many different ways he could elicit that reaction. If just seeing him shirtless made her body react like that, what would happen if things had gone further earlier today? How dark would the tips of her ears get?

“I thought you said it was cold in here?” She challenged his lack of clothing. He just shrugged without responding. 

He grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the bed before sitting himself on the edge. She made a move to sit beside him, but he had other plans. Quick hands landed on her hips and pulled her body between his knees. Since he was sitting, they were almost at eye level. He was just slightly taller than her. 

“This okay?” Miles asked, realizing he’d manhandled her a bit. The old Quaritch would spit on Miles if he heard the way he spoke to Jiniraa. The old Quaritch would never do this for a woman - he took what he wanted and that was the end of it. None of this mushy softheartedness. Good thing Miles wasn’t that man. 

Jiniraa nodded, leaning into him the tiniest bit. Those blushing ears persisted.

Miles nodded absentmindedly. His eyes were distant, unfocused as his gaze was stuck on the floor. Mentally, he was far away from the room. Jiniraa searched his face before cupping the side of his face. Today had proven how touch-starved Miles was, desperate for the softest touches. He would never admit it outloud. His grip on her hips tightened, pulling her closer. A thumb rubbed circled on her hip bone through her shorts. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Miles?” She echoed the question he asked just hours prior. He shook his head, a combination of not wanting to say and not knowing what to say. 

She tentatively moved her hand from his face towards his hair, raking her nails through the short cropped style, testing the waters. She made her way towards the base of his queue before beginning the motion over once again. Hit bit back a groan at the sensation, relishing in the petting like motion. After countless cycles, Jiniraa slowed down her movements, momentarily thinking he fell asleep.

“Please don’t stop.” Miles’ head dipped down, resting his forehead against her shoulder as he went limp against her. She listened to his plea, giving him exactly what he wanted. 

His lungs expanded, taking a deep whiff of the material on her body. His scent was the strongest, as expected, but it was beginning to mix with Jiniraa’s. An intoxicating fusion.

“I was scared,” Miles admitted. Jiniraa didn’t slow her movements, so he assumed she didn’t hear him. He didn’t dare repeat the confession. He’d be glad to pretend it never happened. 

“Why?” She whispered, fingers still brushing through his hair. Shit. She had heard him. There was no going back now. 

“I don’t know,” he lied. Deep down, he knew why. “I guess I didn’t like seeing you like that. Scared and hurt.”

She hummed, giving him the opportunity to find the words. His hands slipped under the fabric of the sweatshirt, rubbing against the skin of her torso. He felt his tail come around, trying to wrap about her thigh. His hand brushed against the small of her back. She winced under his touch and her hands froze against his head. His hand halted in its place.

“Sorry,” she squeaked out before resuming her previous motions. 

“What was that?” Miles demanded, pulling from her touch as he removed his head from her chest. 

“I told Ja my back hurts,” she rolled her eyes, making it sound like it was yesterday’s news. She took a step back before lifting back of the sweatshirt, exposing a blossoming bruise beginning to spread across her lower back. 

“Oh God, sweetheart,” Miles gasped. He felt sick to his stomach. She clicked her tongue, dismissing his concerns.

“It’s probably not that bad,” she murmured, lowering the material back down. He wanted to argue and insist it was in fact that bad - she was trying to downplay it. She sighed, “can we just go to bed, please?”

Thus, the debate of her physical wellbeing was tabled for tomorrow. First thing tomorrow, Miles decided. 

He pulled back the covers for her, roughly tugging at the tight hospital folds. Some habits never die, including the bunk standards he learned all those decades ago in boot camp. The old Quaritch learned. Dead Quaritch. 

She hesitated for a moment before climbing in. She turned, watching from her position as Miles grabbed a spare blanket from the closet before laying it on the floor. 

“What are you doing?” She laughed, completely confused. 

“Getting ready to sleep,” he replied as if it was obvious. “Bed it too small for two.”

“I slept on the floor of a cell for a week. I know it is not comfortable. This is your bed, so sleep in it.” She tried to make her voice threatening, but she failed in the end, “I’ll go back to my room if it means you actually sleep in your own bed.”

He grumbled. He did that a lot, but she was right. He certainly didn’t want to sleep on the floor, but he also didn’t want to force her to share a bed with him. Not after their almost incident earlier.

“You sure?” He asked, eyes hopeful that she would say yes. She nodded, motioning for him to join. “I wouldn’t be able to get the crick outta my neck for weeks.”

He settled into the bed, but one arm was hanging off the side of the bed. He tried to remain as still as possible, lying flat on his back as he stared upwards. He distracted his mind with the grooves and bolts that held the ceiling together, trying to ignore Jiniraa’s movements as she got comfortable. 

“Miles?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you even on the bed?”

“...Barely.”

She groaned and she pushed herself on her knees, pulling a heavy arm towards her to get him away from the edge. He just let her try to move his body, not helping nor resisting. Dead weight. She pinched his skin as she grew annoyed at his passiveness. 

He reluctantly asked, “how do you want me?”

“How do you sleep?” She asked back. 

“Well I close my eyes and-” a sharp smack to his chest cut off the sarcastic response. He winched - it actually did sting a little, “on my side.”

She moved, flopping herself on her side, wedged between the cool wall and the furnace that was Miles Quaritch. He remained still as she grabbed his arm, placing it across her waist. He’d let her do everything, not wanting to overstep her boundaries. 

“Are you a corpse?” 

“What?” He laughed back.

“You could at least pretend to want me in your bed,” she muttered back under her breath. Oh, only if she knew how much he wanted her in his bed. The things he would do to get those pretty little ears to flush that color. He’d become infatuated with the color. He shook those thoughts from his head - he needed to settle down if he was going to get any sleep.

He mumbled an apology, tentatively tightening his arm around her waist. Once she didn’t reject those advances, he pushed further. It was like the floodgates were opened. She drew a quick breath as she was pulled backwards, flush against his chest. One arm slipped under her head; it’s not like his singular pillow would be large enough for both of them. His biceps made pretty decent pillows. 

Jiniraa melted into Miles’ touch before she flipped around in his hold, facing him rather than the wall. She felt his hand slip under the sweatshirt, spreading across her shoulder blades. Dull nails scratched up and down, lulling her to sleep. 

“Good night, Miles,” she whispered.

“Good night, sweetheart,” he responded, matching her volume. Tentatively, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her hairline, holding there for a second. 

He was content, holding her against him. He didn’t need to worry if she was safe for the night. He would be right there if she started writing and whimpering in her sleep. She was beyond satisfied, craving this type of touch for years. She could sleep soundly through the night, wrapped in his protective grip. 

Neither had experienced a better sleep than they did that night, encased in their own little bubble. At that moment, it was just Miles and Jiniraa. Nothing else mattered. 

If only they could remain in their blissful ignorance indefinitely. Unfortunately, reality would come crashing down soon enough. 

Next: Twelve - Glass Doll

●●● 

taglist - if you'd like to be added, just let me know!

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

@oceandeepthirst2

@bolggerist

@mxddymay

@ttreader

@luciddasher

@sofiebstar

@azilove

#miles quaritch imagine #miles quaritch x oc #miles quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #colonel quaritch x oc #colonel miles quaritch x oc #colonel quaritch #avatar the way of water #avatar imagine #avatar oc #avatar #avatar x oc #avatar miles quaritch #avatar quaritch #quaritch #recom quaritch x oc #recom quaritch #recoms #recom wainfleet #recom z dog #recom mansk #recom ja #recom prager #lyle wainfleet #mansk #promises to keep #miles quaritch smut #quaritch smut #quaritch x oc #na'vi quaritch

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Happy Birthday old friend

warning : comfort, fluff and a big little late Happy Birthday my sweety Crocodile

masterlist

Info : So I know this is one day late but I could not help but to write for him based on THIS wonderfull picture from the talented @pocketwei and her swwet post for his birthday (which looks so good as always). I hope you, he and everyone else likes it. Have fun reading

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The execution of Goldroger brought three young boys together. Three boys in a crowd of people who all set out to find the One Piece after Gold.D.Roger. announced the news of the century. His treasure for the title of Pirate King. The atmosphere is as tense as the heat in Alabastia thought the young man in his early twenties as his dark eyes moved across the square.

He watched the many different people show a variety of reactions. Some seemed shocked or even excited, others were silent and even swearing at the navy or Roger. Before his dark eyes lingered on two people.

Two people who seemed to stand out from the crowd. A young teenager, maybe fifteen or sixteen, Crocodile thought. The teenager had blue hair and a striking look to his clothes, which were almost too colourful. He seemed completely shocked and he felt that it was the teenager's fault. As if it was his fault. As if he understood what it meant when Roger died, unlike the second person.

A young man maybe a year or two younger than himself. A distinctly dapper look, the loose white shirt, darker green belt and gold bracelets with the tighter black trousers and loose open hair was a nice look on Crocodile. But when his dark eyes met the young man with the big sword lying on his back, he felt almost underdressed.

The longer wine-red coat with the flower embroidery, the golden cross hanging from the chain and lying on his exposed torso. In the look of his bright yellow, almost hawk-like eyes, there was determination and almost stubbornness.

He seemed to know what would happen as soon as the blades came down on the pirate king. It was three boys meeting on a special day with two meanings. Can you call that luck, king? was the last thing he asked himself as his eyes went up to the podium and he saw the self-proclaimed king laughing. How he seemed to laugh himself to death before the blood stained the wood and the king slumped slightly.

He was dead and with the death of the king the mass of people started to move. Everyone rushed to the harbour to get on their ship, to buy one, to have one built or to steal one. All but three people. The blue-haired boy fell to his knees crying and seemed to mumble something while Crocodile watched him and let his eyes wander to the one with the sword.

The young man with the hawk-like eyes watched the scaffold and the dead body of the king meticulously. ,,The age of the pirate," the black-haired man muttered, averting his gaze from Roger and walking down from the square as the first of the three. A drink before he would take his little ship to pursue his own plan. His own path for the pirate age.

Not knowing that some two decades later he would be one of the seven samurei of the seas, having his own company, hero of a country and subordinates under him. The path he was now taking would come true, at least for a time.

Walking away from the scaffold, he found himself moments later in a bar that was quiet and almost empty due to the storm at sea. Sitting down in one of the corners and ordering a whiskey, he looked at the dark golden liquid, slightly lost in thought. ,,So he's really dead," he murmured and took a sip of the wood-like liquid.

He saw the moment in his mind's eye when the older man died and yet there was a small smirk on his lips. ,,And on my birthday," he added and looked at the gold bracelets he had bought. Valuable and yet he had had to loot a thing or two to get them. ,,What a happy day for you," he heard the murmur of another man who had sat down at the bar and was drinking wine.

The dark red liquid seemed to match the swordsman's coat. ,,For me yes...for him no" he replied and raised his glass slightly which the black haired man returned. There was respect between them, but it was tempered by a sob.

He saw that the blue-haired man had also shuffled into the bar and was sitting at a table drinking a beer mixed with apple spritzer. ,,A sad day and yet all is well," sniffed the teenager and the three raised their glasses to Crocodile who couldn't help smirking at the wishes of the two. But that same smirk would reappear on the fifth day of autumn month. Only twenty years later.

Then when the fifth day of autumn dawned again and they were no longer just simple pirates. They were Sir Crocodile one of the seven and head of the Baroque Company.

Hawkeye Mihawk the best swordsman in the world. As well as Buggy the Clown one of the most notorious pirates there is with his crew who spread fear and terror. But on that very day, in the same bar as before, sand began to manifest itself.

A sword flashed from the corner and the horn of a clown was heard. ,,Nice to see you again, gentlemen," murmured the bartender, who continued to turn to his glasses. The regulars who gathered here every year to celebrate the day when not only the age dawned but also their friend of some sort, because they all respected each other somehow, celebrated his birthday.

The smoke of the cigar wafted through the bar as he settled back into the corner and the two other men took their places at the bar and table. ,,Another year all the best...old friend to you both," the swordsman murmured and took a sip of his wine as he thought of both the former king and his long time friend. The three had formed an alliance now and then, almost a guild.

A bond that seemed to be only between them. But all these years it had not broken. ,,It almost makes you sentimental," the clown quipped and took a sip of his beer, which was still laced with apple juice. Before Sir Crocodile brought the glass of whiskey to his lips and made a satisfied sound. ,,Thank you, old friends, you shouldn't have...but it's been twenty years," he said, looking down at the small gift wrapped in green wrapping paper.

Opening the bow with the tip of his golden hook and lifting the lid of the gift, he couldn't help but show his crocodile-like grin. ,,The same bracelets" Mihawk said, and Buggy finished with an ,,As then" as Sir Crocodile rolled the two gold bracelets onto his left wrist. Lifting his dark eyes from the bangles he looked with the same smirk as then at young Mihawk and Buggy again and at himself. How they said goodbye to third outside and vowed to come back.

To hold on to the old legend as well as the Crocodile's birthday. Because the ,,Happy Birthday Crocodile" they said to him was something he always listened to and remembered what a special day it was. His birthday. Happy birthday Sir Crocodile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#one piece #one piece sir crocodile #sir crocodile #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #op mihawk #buggy the clown #op buggy #happy birthday sir crocodile #one shot

[sushistyless]

Sushi, imma need some marvellous LHH… I NEED TO FEED MY ADDICTION HELP

sparks.

spy h and y/n are partners and they meet after a mission

<1k (blurb) here’s more of my work :)

—————

(Y/N) walks alone by the lakeside, just at the edge of the forest. The stars are scattered out and wide in the sky… watching them calms her — calms her from the chaos her life has equipped her to endure. Just as she continues, the air behind her grows warm, own footsteps coming to a halt once realising the presence of someone behind her. The heat of another travelled to raise each hair on her neck, an alertness taking over her veins.

"You're here," Harry breathes out, now walking next to her. (Y/N) stops in her track. Breath hitching at the low octave and deep drawl of his voice, she realises just how much she missed it.

Harry.

She looks to her side, thoughts buzzing like the breeze that delicately blows her hair and sways the skirt of the dress adorning her body. Her expression moulds into that of shock, lips parting at his sudden arrival and the glory of his beauty. He was here. After so long.

She isn’t able to form a reply, still struck by his presence. Her eyes finally meet his dilated ones, gaze softer than his, voice keeping only the illusion of calmness.

He somehow seems to grow more and more beautiful each time she sees him. It’s been long, but the tug of his soft pink lips never failed to steal her attention. Granted, there were times when his smirk irked her to no end, but there was no denying that it made her heart flutter the tiniest bit.

His hair had grown longer than she last saw him, cascading down to his shoulders… and he looked beautiful. A silken cream shirt stretched over his torso, leaving the first few buttons open, just like she remembered he always did. The shirt ran tight, ornate gold thread embroidery against the muscles of his biceps with the sleeves rolled up to expose the inking etched into his skin.

"Darling, s’been long since we've seen each other. It wouldn't hurt t’at least talk," he spoke to her, moving closer, almost cautiously as if testing the waters. But in his deep, drowning emerald eyes, she sees eagerness.

They've always been this way— the green making them seem like a deep, dense forest.

A forest she loves to get lost in.

"It’s just hard when,” she looks away from him, gulping, “the last time we met was when I “killed” you, you know.” She’s humouring him too now, her tone having a teasing lilt to it, the heaviness of the sentence not particularly fitting the circumstances it conveyed. Lips rolled between her teeth, her ears gauge for his reaction, stifling a smile.

His mere presence sparks something in her and (Y/N) can feel his eyes boring into her side, the silence extending for a few more moments. She knows he’s playing around with her, trying to get her to relent and look at him (she’s trying not to, because he’s most definitely going to have this stupidly gorgeous smirk on his face). And he stays silent since he knows that she can’t bare to not see his reaction to anything she does. He really does mean a great deal to her. He remembers how once on a mission together, he had laughed at a rather lame joke she had cracked, and he swears he saw stars in her eyes. She was so happy.

He’s always laughed at all her jokes since.

That was thing about Harry— it was understandable how he was seen as intimidating. His features were sharp, his voice shed rays of assertiveness and his stature was strong. But (Y/N) knew he was soft. His smile shined brighter than the stars, melting more hearts than the sun ever could. His voice was comforting and low, perfect to whisper secrets to each other at night. And his cuddles, she thinks, tightened the rosette vine that she found was growing around her heart with every moment he spent with her.

(Y/N) tries not to look, but when she sees a smile plastered on his face from the periphery of her eyes, her efforts all go down the drain. Slowly she looks up at him, unable to rival the edges of her lips quirking up.

His head drops to face the ground, grinning widely then, a dimple indents the rosy apple of his cheek, “Tha’ was a good mission, wasn’t it?” And (Y/N) finally gives in, letting her love flow out by fluttering into giggles.

She’s been his partner ever since she could remember, having gone on endless missions and special investigations together. They were the best at their job when they did it together. Naturally she’d always been close to him, but never close to him. They’d grown to form a bond that was special… that they shared with no one else, and she’d be lying if she hadn’t thought of having something beyond that. Especially while he was away, since well, their last mission very blankly called for faking Harry’s murder.

She laughs, shaking her head lightly, “No, I did not like “stabbing”” — her fingers curl to form air quotes — “you.”

He chuckles endeared, urging her to turn towards him, now facing her completely. She accepts his touch with keenness, watching as he grabs both her hands in his and gently delivers a kiss to her knuckles. The satiny touch of his lips against her skin bring a heat to her cheeks, something Harry doesn’t fail to notice, looking up at her through his lashes. But this gesture wasn’t smug or cheeky like he’d usually be. It was… tender. It was as if conveying, I missed you. And the fondness in her eyes reciprocated something like that too, Me too.

His hands move to settle on her waist, the feathery hold making her melt into his touch. His thumb grazed against the thin fabric of her clothes, delicately tracing shapes— the action which has her emotionally crumbling apart in his arms. He half smiles. His cool breath is close to her face, the sultry words he spoke in a hushed, taunting tone, only painting a haze around her, "Ah yes, tha’ was the one time your dagger hit deeper than your words."

She bites the inside of her cheek, a little flustered with her head tilted down, hand coming to toy with the hem of his shirt, “Hey. I didn’t hurt you and I hated doi—”

But Harry gently lifts her chin so she can look at him directly, interrupting her resolutions. “I know, I know. We’re jus’ such great actors, aren’t we?” She laughs silently, mouth falling open to continue but he doesn’t let her. The air shifts, a more serious turn to this words, “But— and I’m not acting—” he moves a strand of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear, sounding desperate and awfully shy for it to be coming from him, “Can I finally kiss you?”

Her breath gets caught in her throat.

He wants to kiss her?

“I realised while I was away, and even among the chaos during the last time we met, all I wanted t’do was kiss you. Y’so beautiful and smart and kind, y’know that?” He whispers to her, the octave of his voice blending in with the wind. He was so soft.

(Y/N) stands speechless, warmth spreading in her chest, “Harry…”

“And everything I did, there was always a piece of you there,” his voice wavers, “And I don’t think you quite understand how s’fucking bad for me, because you’re too damn easy to fall in love with.”

(Y/N)… she’s pretty sure her heart has never, ever, ever been so full.

She just can’t help the smile that stretches across her face, mumbling between the watery inhales from the tears that have effectively gathered in her eyes, trying to clear her throat and breathe in, nodding her head vigorously, scanning Harry’s face as he laughs silently, mumbling something along of the lines of Oh, sweetheart. With the promise of her wanting the same thing, Harry’s lips gravitate to hers, the feel of his smile mirroring her own. The euphoric feeling of her heart beating against her chest simply amplifies, hands moving to cradle his jaw, own lips at last brushing his honeyed ones.

And then, he kissed her like he’s wanted to do it all his life. It was something she knew was so special because it was with Harry. She was ready to get lost in this hazy world, all her senses consumed by him, him and only him. He pulls her closer to his chest, delivering a quick squeeze to her love handles before looping his arms around her entirely, tucking her to the moment, protecting her like the moon would do it’s stars. Like wings of safety and reassurance enveloping his precious completely.

He guided them, gliding ever so lightly with her supple bottom lip tucked between his, a tingling sensation radiating from the places he touched her. She slides her hands from his jaw to lace together at the back of his neck, tilting her chin up further to deepen the kiss, causing Harry to tighten his hold around her, his own little way to cage her in his doting affection. She could feel his toned chest against hers, the ends of his luscious hair tickling the crook of her exposed neck, a grounding factor that held her to reality or she thinks she would’ve been floating among the clouds somewhere.

Breathlessly and delicately he pulls away, keeping in consideration their breathing requirements, while still apart to be intimately huddled up with each other. Her lips are swollen and slick with his ministrations, a wild essence drifting in her irises and Harry concludes she’s never looked more beautiful.

Subtly moving forward, he rubs his nose against hers in an Eskimo kiss.

“We’re just such great partners, aren’t we?”

And to that, she couldn’t agree more.

—————

think we all need a little lhh in our life :( so obsessed w/ him — also I’m actually working on a piece that does have something like this too!! but this is just a short (and sappy, lmao) drabble & I really hope you liked it!! <3

masterlist.

#I’m not TOO sure how I feel about this lmao #wasn’t sure if it’s good but oh well #but thank u SO much for sending in this request!! :( I really hope u like it!! #my writing #blurbs #Harry styles writing #Harry styles x reader #Harry styles fluff #harry styles x yn #Harry styles imagines #Harry styles blurbs #long hair Harry #lhh x reader #Harry styles au #spy!Harry styles #requested

[readyforthegarden]

Bubblegum - Part Six

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female OC

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI!! Drinking, vegan tacos, angst

Synopsis: When Eden signed her recording contract to become a pop superstar, she hadn't realized she wasn't just signing her creative freedoms away, she was signing much more. Her control over social media, her diet, and even her relationships. When she gets contracted into a relationship with some wannabe rockstar name Jake Kiszka, will she finally find her freedom?

🎶 🎶 🎶

“That was amazing!” Eden was grinning ear to ear, finding the boys backstage after their show. She was going to opt for the pit to watch the boys play, but after a few dirty looks from some of their fans after they saw her exiting his car at the venue, Jake had wanted Eden to stay backstage. The compromise was to stay with the front of house engineers, towards the far back of the pit. That way she was behind a barricade and could still see the whole show.  And she was so glad she did.

“Thanks Edie!” Josh was there to greet her first, grabbing her in a big hug. She could feel the energy radiating off him. His jumpsuit stuck to his skin from the sweat of being under the stage lights, and Eden laughed as he peeled the material away from his skin. She gave Danny and hug, but couldn’t quite get to Jake before she was intercepted.

“I’m so glad I waited to listen to you guys until it was live, you guys are awesome.” Sam came up behind her and pulled her into another hug, this one sweatier than Josh’s, as Sam had taken off his jacket halfway through the performance. She finally found Jake, talking to one of the guitar techs as he handed over his guitar. Her stomach turned in knots at the image of him. His long hair was damp with sweat, and his exposed chest under his jacket was still glistening under the canned lights backstage. Eden wanted nothing more than to run her hands down his torso and-

“What do you mean you waited to listen? You didn’t hear our albums?” Sam asked, feigning offense. Eden tore her gaze away from Jake, meeting Sam’s big doe-eyes.

“Nope. I figured I’d let you wow me in person.” Eden chuckled. The taller boy kept his arm around her shoulder and started guiding everyone back towards their green room. Eden wrapped her arm around his waist lazily in response. “And you all did just that. God, it’s crazy how good that was. That 'Age of Man' song? I was crying like a baby it was so good! Oh and Safari Song?! God that was sexy as hell! Don't even get me started on that Weight of Dreams one!” Sam grinned widely and leaned over, placing a quick, sloppy kiss to the side of her head. Eden pushed him away and wiped her face, laughing as she rounded the corner into the room. She felt something brush against her other side and saw Jake rush by her, Danny following him.

“So, are you coming over for some post-show dinner and drinks?” Danny asked, flinging a small towel over his shoulder after he wiped sweat from his brow. Eden nodded and began to speak, but was cut off.

“Nah, I gotta take her back home.” Jake called over his shoulder from the rack of clothes hanging up. He was putting his stage jacket back on the hanger. Eden furrowed her eyebrows, confused at the sudden coldness coming from him.

“I don’t have anything going on tomorrow, I can hang out for a little bit tonight.” she corrected, smiling back at Danny. Sam, Danny and Josh continued to talk about the show, and explained to Eden bits and pieces that meant a lot to them in the music. Jake stayed quiet in the corner, changing slowly out of his stage clothes. Eventually Eden excused herself from the room so they could get changed in peace, and she pulled out her phone to pass the time.

‘Jake’s fans are tagging you in photos left and right!! That is not the outfit I had sent over for you tonight.’ Bryans’ messages were from hours ago, but she swiped through them, rolling her eyes. A few photos he sent made Eden blush. While the band played, she’d forgotten she was supposed to be playing a role. But no one would’ve been able to tell the difference if she had or hadn’t. She was grinning and there was a video of her swaying with that same grin, then ‘whooo-ing’ and clapping at the end of the song that was playing.

Eden was so focused on reliving the memories from a few moments ago, she didn’t notice Jake coming out of the green room, dressed back in his street clothes. He grabbed her hand and continued walking. Eden shuffled to keep up and match his pace at first, but managed to do so, the other guys following behind.

“Hey, what’s the rush?” Eden asked. Jake brushed off her question, staring straight ahead as he pushed through the doors to the parking lot in back of the venue. They were greeted by sudden shouts for the boys. Jake dropped Eden’s hand and put on a grin, going up to a few girls who were shouting his name and taking the pen from their hand, signing the papers they were holding. He conversed with them so easily, and she stood back, watching. All four of the boys moved around the small group of fans that had waited outside, laughing and taking photos with them. 

After a few minutes, they said goodbye as their tour manager moved them along, and Jake came back to Eden, reclaiming her hand in his and leading her to his car. He stayed quiet the whole way home, and she figured it was post-show fatigue. Eden minded her business on her phone, giggling when Sam sent a picture of the giant tequila bottle he found on the way home at the liquor store. 

As soon as they arrived at Casa de Greta, Eden moved to the kitchen, preparing glasses for Sam’s inevitable margaritas. She’d lost track of Jake after he had gone upstairs for a shower, Sam having arrived with Danny, holding the bottle above his head. Josh followed behind him shortly after with a big bag of street and sofritas tacos and chips and salsa for everyone to share. 

It wasn’t until she was a margarita and a half in, with two shots of tequila added, that Eden noticed Jake had joined everyone again. He was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and an old ratty white t-shirt. He gave Josh a smile in thanks as he was handed a plate of tacos and a margarita, sliding up onto one of the bar stools. Eden licked the rim of her own glass, feeling the tingly heat of tajin mixing with the salt on her tongue before taking another sip. She giggled as Sam walked her through the culinary perfection that was extra firm tofu in a taco. Suddenly, she threw her hands up in front of her face as he tried to feed her a bite of his half-eaten taco, protesting that she had plenty of her own and thought they were good.

“I’m going out for a smoke.” Jake pushed away from the counter and walked over to the sliding glass door that led out to the back patio of the house. The boys continued talking and drinking, but Eden set her glass down on the counter, excusing herself and following Jake outside. Little light was coming from the moon and stars, and the soft lights from inside the house barely helped. If it hadn’t been for the red glow of his cigarette when he inhaled, Eden would’ve have missed Jake entirely.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, sliding her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. Jake exhaled his smoke, careful to aim it away from her face as she stood in front of him. 

“Yeah, why?” his voice was annoyed, and Eden raised her eyebrows.

“You just seem a little down. I thought you’d be super energized after that show.” she shrugged, biting her bottom lip. “You’ve barely spoken a word to me tonight.”

“Sam’s doing enough talking for everyone.” Jake muttered. “And why does it matter? I’m not really your boyfriend. I don’t have to pay attention to you.” Eden’s eyes widened, shocked at how Jake snapped at her. He hadn’t spoken to her like that since their first encounter.

“No, you’re not.” she said softly, crossing her arms over her chest. “But I thought we were at least friends.” Eden turned on her heels and went back inside, going and grabbing her phone off the counter. Her eyes burned as she held back the tears that were welling up, her feelings easily hurt in her intoxicated state.

“I think I’m going to head home.” she said, pulling up an app and beginning to search for a ride. The other boys protested.

“You can stay here, we have the guest room upstairs.” Josh nodded his head towards the staircase. “It’s too late, I don’t want you drunk in an Uber alone.”

“I’ll be fine.” Eden waved him off, but Danny reached over, taking her phone out of her hands. He gave her a concerned look as he leaned over the counter to make better eye contact.

“Eden, stay in the guest room. It’s stupid to go home this late.” he agreed with Josh, who’s curly hair was bouncing as he nodded along. Eden glanced back towards the sliding glass door, then back to the boys in front of her.

“Well, I’m going to have to borrow some clothes again, Sam.” the younger man grinned and grabbed Eden’s wrist, tugging her along behind him to go pick out her ‘jammies’ as he drunkenly called them. Eden sat on the edge of Sam’s bed, watching him dig through piles of clothes around his room, looking for the clothes he’d lent her last time. It wasn’t until she sat on the bed that she realized how much she’d had to drink, and her head felt a little dizzy.

“Sam?”

“Hmm?”

“Is Jake always so tense after a show?” she asked, looking up at him. Sam thought for a moment as he handed Eden some clothes. She took them and bunched them up in her hands as she waited for an answer.

“Not usually.” Sam shook his head. “Not unless something weird happened with the equipment, but he would’ve been bitching about it nonstop if that were the case.” Eden nodded and flopped back onto the bed, groaning. Sam sat next to her and laid down on his side, facing her, his head propped up on his elbow. “Why?”

“He was so nice to me today, and then after the show he’s been ignoring me.” Eden murmured, her head catching up to the sudden movement of the bed. “It makes me sad.” Sam studied her face as tears pricked at her eyes again.

“Why does it make you sad, Edie?” he asked softly, reaching out a hand and wiping away a tear as it spilled down the side of her face. Eden turned to face him, staring into his brown doe eyes.

“Because I think I’m falling for him.”

Taglist: @trafficwasabitch, @obetrolncocktails, @streamsofstardust, @sammiejane22, @myownparadise96, @gretavanbitches, @mamavanheat, @lunaindigoraven, @shutupdevvie @jakewhorecore @josiee-gvf @shesawomaninadream @writingcold @spicedandicedtea @niallsboxx @baguettejuliette @josh-iamyour-mama

#bubblegum fic #jake kiszka x oc #jake kiszka #jake gvf #jake gvf fic #greta van fleet #greta van fic #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fan fiction

[saltineofswing]

APOSTATE II

Love And Death || Destiny 2 || 3800 Words || Pt. 1 || Pt. 2

In Another World, In Some Ways Like The One We Know…

She was dreaming again.

The sky (was it the sky?) roiled like a drugged serpent over her head, ribbons of ichor-dark empyrea twisting lazily, drops of ink in clouded absinthe. She stood on a smooth circular plinth and somewhere, in the dark, thunder burbled as if from above the water-line. Flickers of sourceless white light illuminated her in strobing bursts at random; her skin, pale and shot through with dark veins like marble. Her hair, dark and wavy, long unkempt, like fingers of shadow that rooted in her scalp. She was not hot, nor cold, nor anything. The glassy stone was indistinguishable in temperature from the bare soles of her feet, which made her feel like she was truly drifting in the vast nothing. 

She was dreaming of something. 

Somewhere, a massive formless shape shifted in the dark. In its size she could not tell it for a drifting land mass or some leviathan Thing, nor how far away it was, or if it was moving towards her, or if she should be afraid of it. Light thrummed behind the mass and she felt, also as if from above the water-line, the tingle of fear in nerves that should have belonged to her. 

Something was dreaming of her.

“Eris.”

Ichor – not her hair, not the empyrea of the Ascendant Plane around her, above her, below her, but directed and insidious – murmured to itself. It groaned and whispered, and slowly a languid shape contorted into this reality. Eris knew this shape. Toland, once Shattered, was equally functional (and arguably more comfortable) when his mortal flesh was left contorted into a contemplative puzzle, and his mind was walking across other realities. 

“Eris,” he said again, though no mouth knit itself across the slithering dark shape that now faced her. Two long, angular arms unfurled from him, spindling fingers swirling as if he were swimming; his shoulders stretched until they were aligned into the correct corners, his torso stacking itself into the accurate curvature. His head attained definition – proud, jutting cheekbones set over a jagged jawline, horns reaching out in supplicant gestures from his temples. The way the shadows drew into his form through the back of his phantom skull approximated his voluminous black hair. His eyes slit their way across his face, three green lines that drew open just a crack to appraise her. In the negative space that his shadows would not fill, Eris saw the pattern of his tell-tale bone-forged cuirass and robes. 

The precariousness of him could be mistaken for poor casting, but Eris knew that he just looked that way. She knew that she should feel some way about his presence here – joy? Irritation, anger? Fear? But she could not bring herself to the flashpoint of emotion. Instead, she blinked slowly at him. “Toland,” she finally said, as if finding a word she had been searching for. Her voice was disused, creaking and straining to recall a past grandeur. She whetted her lips, had to try twice to do so, remembered that she had a tongue and teeth after this reflexive behavior. Yes, a body had a mouth, didn’t it? “Toland.” 

She thought, should I have more to say? Should she tell him something, or perhaps ask him a question? She wasn’t sure. Uncertainty should have rankled across her exposed skin, the fluttering of muscles just below her skin. Instead, she merely blinked once more, remembered that she had eyelids and eyes. 

He waited, patiently, for her to address him with anything other than his name. 

She made her decision. “Why are you here?” She asked, and Toland folded his long arms behind his back. Eris thought perhaps her question had taken him aback, though she was not sure why. Was it the dullness of her voice, which she, too, wondered at? Did he perceive something adversarial in the question, and did she mean it as a challenge? 

“To bring you,” he said, in an interval that Eris suspected was not the gulf of time she thought it had been. “The Witch Queen’s plans are undone, at least through to the next stitch. We…” this gave him pause. Something in his hesitation made a trickle of sensation creep through her. “Her plans are undone,” he said again, but with the tone of a clarification, “but not foiled. Savathûn’s machinations outstretch even the mighty Queen Mara Sov.”

“Asûr-Ïst-Alam-Kost,” Eris said, reflexively, and she felt a little bit more like herself. Toland saw this in her, the shadows of his face approximated a familiar, crooked smile, and she again felt a little bit more like herself. 

“She escaped us,” Toland continued. “Though we lost in some ways, we won in others. She did not escape without great cost to herself.”

Eris thought that she knew what he was talking about. She remembered – no, Savathûn remembered – shambling between buildings deep in the City, where nobody would recognize her as anything more than a human unsteady on her feet. She remembered, or Savathûn remembered, the way black ichor heaved from her insides and splattered the gutter. The taste of it, slick and alien and acrid. She remembered seeing, from across a crowd, Eriana as she walked with two House Exile Vandals and her Guardian fireteam towards Botza District. Eris remembered a pang of desperate longing, the overwhelming desire to escape, resignation in the knowledge that escape would never come; she could not tell if these thoughts were her own, or Savathûn’s. 

She remembered, then, her ‘sudden’ and ‘inexplicable’ reappearance. A renewal of closeness with Toland, with Sai Mota, with Ikora and the Hidden. With the Guardian. She remembered, or Savathûn remembered, watching Crow and Osiris sit together and talk, remembered showing Crow the differences in the tracks of Ogres and Ascendant Knights, remembered holding Sai Mota as she cried with relief that ‘Eris’ had finally returned. She remembered Toland. At arm’s reach, but so far away. Glances, exchanged where they thought the other did not see them. ‘I missed you’, she had said to him once, ‘in the Ascendant Plane. I was trapped, and there were times when I could only think of you.’

“Yes,” Eris whispered, and reached up to touch her lips. They were not smeared with slurried bile or divine untruths. “I remember. I remember… pieces of her time. Wearing a… wearing a mask. Of me.”

Toland seemed to have no response to that, though Eris thought it was more likely he had several and wanted to voice none of them. Instead, he dipped his chin for a brief moment and said, “ask your next question, Princebane.”

“How long have I been here?” Eris said, more firmly, and focused on the power that there was to be had from knowing. 

Toland paused; she did not know if it was melancholy or calculation. But instead of wondering without resolution, she found – to her dim pleasure – that she suspected. She suspected it was the former. She thought, Toland knows exactly how long I have been here. To the minute. She was not sure why that would be. But, again, she suspected. 

“Years,” Toland said. “Years and years. A very long time. The world we knew is no longer, and a new one has sprang up in its place. Things are very different.” He paused a moment more, from melancholy and calculation at once. “Shin Malphur is dead,” he continued, more discreetly. “A new Vanguard oversees the Hunters.”

Eris found that she felt sorrow, and then she felt a little bit more like herself. “And Ikora?” She asked, because she could not help herself. 

“Alive,” Toland replied, almost too quickly, as if to reassure her. How unlike him, she thought. Still, Eris found that she felt joy, and then she felt a little bit more like herself. Toland continued, “alive, and well, though busy. As ever, the world is a many-sided polygon, and Ikora prunes its edges, ever searching for the circle inside.”

She hummed contemplatively. The first time she had received a visitor, the first time she had truly been awake (insofar as she could be awake), it had been a Guardian – the Guardian – seeking the blade of insight, to be buried in Crota’s heart. And so, Crota died, howling, broken upon the sword. The last time she had received a visitor, the last time she had been awake, that very same Guardian sought the death of a king. And so, Oryx died, spinning into Saturn’s orbit. And still, Eris Morn remained here. Dreaming. 

Eris experienced a thrill of anger at her captors – her captor. And then she felt very much more like herself. Suddenly she remembered: not the City, not Crota’s Throne-World or the Dreadnaught, where her Ascendant phantom flickered in the high places just out of Toland’s reach. She remembered everything. 

All of her dreams came back to her in a vivid rush.

She remembered a dream of her and Toland, adorned in the regalia of the Hive, with small horns crawling from her scalp, trading clever barbs that were not meant to sting but to intrigue. They stood before Savathûn as subordinates, but not as slaves.

She remembered a dream of being present at Towerfall, Ghaul’s paltry attempts to thieve the Light. The way it flung Guardians across the Earth, the number of lives it cost them. She remembered a small plant in her ship, potted in sallow Venusian soil, and how much sorrow it had filled her with when it died. She remembered being a Warlock, eschewing the Praxic Order and forging her own path, the first of her world to clench ice in her fists, Toland close behind. She recalled Toland in many of these dreams. She remembered she and Toland in a situation much like her own; trapped deep in the machinations of an unknowable and malicious intellect, winding deeper and deeper into illusions and dreams and traps made to break them. Three young Not-Krill tucked against her side. Toland’s hand against the nape of her neck. 

She remembered swallowing Savathûn’s worm, and killing herself, to end it. She remembered turning on humankind. She remembered surrendering to death in the Hellmouth. She remembered joining the Dredgen. She remembered living peacefully, quietly, and dying of old age. 

“I could… wake up?” Eris managed; she was aware of how dreamlike and distant her words had become, lost in the mire of memory, and saw it for what it was – another trap. Another offering from Savathûn, to drag her back down when escape was within her reach. How much easier it would be to simply observe from beyond, to dream and slumber. To lose herself to herselves. To self-soothe with victories and self-flagellate with defeats. She swallowed. “I could wake up?” She said again, more firmly.

“You will wake up,” Toland responded, lofty and imperious. “I’m here. We have been working rather hard on retrieving you from Savathûn’s grasp. It would be a waste not to capitalize on our very diligent work.”

“Why did you come for me?” She asked without hesitation, instead of ‘why are you here’, because she was now acutely aware of the difference. “Anything she said to you, when you thought it was me, was misdirection. It was all a lie.”

Diligently, sphinx-like, Toland considered. Painfully, quietly, Eris anticipated. 

“To see if I could,” Toland finally said. Eris felt her insides shift in a way that she could not identify, because she knew that this was true, and she felt a little bit more like herself. She let her eyes glaze slightly, staring out past him, trying to decide exactly what answer she wanted from him. Simplicity was anathema to him, but she could not place the blame solely on him. 

But he was not done. “But in truth… more than that.” His shadowy form twisted for a moment like a sheet in the wind, his green eyes closed and invisible in his visage of pitch. He approached her, drawing so close that she could tell he was not nothing-cold like the Ascendant Realm. In this moment, as he reached out to her and his fingertips hovered inches from her chin, she could feel that he was warm. “In the beginning. Before we understood what we had undertaken. Before the Hellmouth. Before anything she said with your mouth. Do you remember? You came for me. Not Sai Mota or Eriana-3 or Omar Agah or Vell Tarlowe. You.” His eyes opened again. “In the beginning, it was you. And so it has been since then, hasn’t it?”

She felt herself in his gaze, bedight in power and meaning, and there was no more of her to rediscover.

Eris Morn woke up.

––––––––––––

The pale light of Earth made the interior of the recuperation suite an unnatural hue. Eris almost yearned for the warm light of the sun, the smell of Earth, but she knew these phantom desires were not her own. She had not been to Earth in decades. She lay in bed for a long time and let the earthlight change the shadows in the room.

She took her time to come to consciousness. To feel her full self. After so long spent un-whole – shattered – between planes, flung from grasp to grasp and throne to throne. Dreaming. Her body did not ache; it had been treated with utmost care, a soft robe, limbs wrapped in bone-white linens (not the bone-white of the Hive, the stale, yellowed, crusting chitin, but the bone-white of Earth, of a femur scoured clean by time and exposure). The feeling of soft fabrics against her skin instead of rough, abrasive burlap and Hive-bone was strange. Her body did not ache but it was stiff, and she clattered her teeth as she swung her legs off of the mattress.

The physical world felt so much less real. It was the same as stepping off of a boat onto dry land, or leaving the simulacrum of artificial gravity for real planetary heft. The Ascendant Plane still shifted beneath her feet. Her eyes still searched for distant, drifting geometries. Being indoors felt almost claustrophobic. 

On the table beside her bed was a long, flat box wrapped in Thrallskin vellum, pinned shut with a simple bone clasp. Also there at its side was a glass of water and an envelope. She took the envelope first, and ponderously peeled it open. 

Eris,

You have missed much. You have been missed.

Once you told me you would like to make a blade of God. Inspired. Consider your wish granted. 

Toland.

She cast aside the letter and snatched up the package with indecorous haste, eyes now suddenly hungry, and almost ripped it apart to get to its contents. Only when she saw the blade, did Eris Morn allow herself a cold, mean smile. The dagger that had once been Oryx did not gleam in the light, half as long as her forearm, roiling with strange magics. She drank in the runes and symbologies wrapped in leather and talisman around its hilt and pommel. It looked as though the blade had been dipped into a fire, blackening and souring along its length until it was the crooked tip of a shadow. It curved gently like a tooth, and smelled of death. Toland. Toland had brought her back. Of all the people she had expected to owe her life to, Toland the Shattered had not been one of them. And he was a talented gift-giver. He had changed. How could she have foreseen that?

Without letting go of the dagger, Eris crept across the recuperation suite to the desk and mirror that occupied the far corner. Her hair was stringy and long, and she grimaced odiously at how it spilled across her face, the feeling of its weight against her back and shoulders. Loping uncomfortably until she could plop herself into the chair, she pushed her hair out of her face so that she could examine her countenance. Her brow sat heavy across her eyes, darkly ringed with sleep, and she blinked owlishly. 

“You would be beautiful with green eyes.”

Eris saw the figure standing behind her in the mirror but did not turn to face it. She knew it was not real. 

“Brown has always sufficed for me,” Eris said, her voice croaking with sleep. “Nor do I hold much regard for the opinion of a chronic liar.”

“The chronic liar,” Savathûn purred; she leaned against the post of the canopy bed in which Eris had been slumbering, her arms folded. Three green eyes watched Eris from behind an enchanted burlap veil, their pinprick green glow barely enough to betray their existence. Black trails of ichor wept down her pale cheeks, pooled at the corners of chapped and bitten lips. The strange garb that Savathûn wore was neither Hunter nor Warlock, jutting bone pauldrons and a studded cuirass that bore Eris’s symbol. Eris Morn regarded herself with two kinds of loathing, and one kind of love. She had seen this visage before, many times. Most times. “Good morning, dearest Eris. Have you slept well?”

Eris looked down at the desk, at the dagger. She took it in her dominant hand with the curved edge pointing at the floor, and stared at herself in the mirror. “You could not keep me forever,” she said, and held her hair out of her face. “I am too loved.” 

“So it seems. I wish we could have stayed together for longer, you and I. It has been so long since I was human.” Savathûn sighed; hearing the voice of her ultimate enemy from her own lips was not as unsettling as Savathûn might have hoped. She prowled around the bed, watching Eris with pursed lips. “Are you going to try and attack me with that dagger? It would do you no good. I’m not really here, you know that. You’d just hurt yourself – it’s probably wise not to put too much strain on your body, so soon after you’ve gotten it back.” 

“You claim to have been ‘with me’, and yet you do not know me,” was all Eris said. She examined the angles of her cheeks, the set of her jaw, pursing her own lips reflexively in the same way as Savathûn. She took the blade and held it to her hairline; Savathûn tensed, suddenly, her lax demeanor evaporating off of her. Pinching the dagger’s guard between her forefingers and her thumb, she dragged the blade back. The sound of hair shearing from her scalp against the strange edge of the blade was like the rasp of clear metal against grass in her head, but it did not quite cover Savathûn’s gasp of surprise. 

She didn’t understand Savathûn’s sudden panic, or the way she lurched forward, as if to stop Eris from hurting herself. 

“I like my hair short.” She could not mask the smugness in her voice beneath the dour resolution that she so often imposed upon her words. The dagger pulled back, and like silk, a sheaf of hair slid to the floor at her bare feet. Again she took the blade to her scalp, shearing hair away with the corpse of a god, making it hers. And again, and again. Her hand was steady and even. A hunter and a knife. She held her ears down and flicked the curved tip until no hairs remained long, and set the dagger down on the desk. 

“I can see why,” Savathûn finally said, though the lording ease was slightly forced. Eris examined the choppy, uneven job she had done, small tufts sticking out at odd angles from her scalp. Nowhere was there a hair longer than half an inch. Now she could see her face in full. She tugged at one earlobe, her round ears sticking out from the sides of her head, brushed one of her thick eyebrows flat against her skin with the pad of a thumb. 

“Witch Queen,” Eris finally said, standing and appraising her adversary-as-self in the mirror without turning. “For long have you and your fellow gods struggled to deprive me of my vengeance, to relieve yourselves of the burden of my long shadow.” She lifted the dagger, glancing at its hungry edge, and brushed a stray hair from its blade. “I do not begrudge good tactics. I am free of you, now. Know this, and know fear.” 

Savathûn laughed into the back of her hand; Eris’s teeth gleamed bone-white in the pale light of Earth. “Such powerful words!” She jeered, steepling her fingers and striding closer to peer over Eris’s shoulder. “You will kill us? Alone?”

“Not alone,” Eris corrected, “But I will kill you.”

“There is more to the future than you know,” Savathûn said in her ear, and Eris did not look from the mirror as she hugged herself to Eris’s back. She leaned her cheek against the crook of Eris’s neck, smiling coyly. Eris felt the warmth of her hands, the gruff rasp of her leather gloves, the icy stain of the ichor that rolled down her cheeks, but she did not look. “I have many irons in the fire. You think that speaking decisively will drag your truth into being? We will see. You have seen one side of my machinations, and you think you have broken my stride.” 

“You are wrong.”

Savathun’s lips pursed again, patronizingly. “Oh?”

“Yes. We’re speaking, aren’t we? Then you are, some part of you, here. And I can hurt you with this dagger.”

Eris twisted her arm around her and buried the curved fang of the knife deep into Savathûn’s gut; it did not bother her to watch her own face stretch with shock, her mouth gaping, the inhuman, chittering squawk that gurgled from her throat, the way she crumpled. 

A knock came at the door. Eris turned, knife held outstretched where it had pierced her reflection, to confront an empty room. 

“Come in,” she said, and set the dagger on the desk, watching the doorway in the mirror.

She knew it would be Toland before the door creaked open. He took her shorn head in stride, though he glanced for a moment between her bare scalp and the pile of hair at her feet. “Eris,” he said, and she knew by his voice that he had in some way perceived her conversation with the Witch Queen by the bottomless satisfaction that smoked from it like smoldering coals. “Welcome back to the land of the living. There is someone here who would like very much to see you.” 

She turned to face him, quizzical. It was her true face, then, that burst with shock when a whirl of familiar blue flanges zipped out from behind Toland. 

“Hello, beloved,” Brya said, and darted across the room to her Guardian as Eris cried out. 

She did not see Toland’s small smile, as Eris – dagger forgotten – held her Ghost close to her and wept.

#Destiny #Eris Morn #Toland the Shattered #Savathûn #Dinklebot Sitcom #Northbot Sitcom #The Write Stuff

[marytvirgin]

↬ 5 – If only you had wanted me.

"They wash your wounds with their tears. My tears must fall when theirs dry." — Romeo and Juliet.

In the corner of the darkened room there is a masked figure attentive to the details of the place.

Eyes shielded by white lenses moved across the television attached to the wood panel, the three-seater brown leather sofa. On top of the small coffee table in front of the sofa there is a gun and a pack of cigarettes next to a lighter of appearance old. The kitchen is small but well organized. The only two visible doors are closed, despite the fact that the resident of the place is already at home.

Alice tracked him there as soon as possible. Fortunately, she didn't need to invent any lies to quickly get out of Wayne territory, just like he did with Dick, Bruce dismissed her shortly after both were checked by Alfred. Then, as Dick was in his way back to Bludhaven, Alice took off on her motorbike without prodding.

Her trained eyes moved to the door to the obviously occupied bathroom as soon as the handle was turned and opened. That was obviously the same man she'd been following less than an hour ago. His big, muscular build was all she analysed, but what caught her attention were the scars that covered his entire torso down to the hem of his sweatpants that hung on his narrow hips. The man suddenly stopped in the middle of the room just as he stopped rubbing the bath towel over his head. Immediately Alice realized that he, even without looking, knew that someone was there uninvited.

— Nice place. — Alice commented, still hidden in the shadows of the place.

The big body relaxed slightly at the sound of the female voice. A shuddering breath escaped her soft lips as the scent of the man's bath products reached her. All very familiar.

— It's too tidy for a safe house. — The man's muscular chest rose and fell, he still held the towel tightly over his head obstructing the view of his face. — Denial is a really hard thing to deal with. I mean, being forced to accept something is awful. I've been through this twice before today. — Alice stepped out of the shadows with hesitant steps and watched as he tensed at her last word. — So after five years of pain and failed attempts to move on with my life, I found out the hard way that my dead boyfriend might not really be dead after all. — Alice stopped five paces away from him, her feminine fingers tingling with the urge to touch the man's scarred skin. — Look at me.

When the man didn't move, Alice asked again in a shaky voice. The man hidden by the soft cloth has to be him. Have to. She can't be so affected, even years later, that she hallucinates. Those movements, that familiarity.

It has to be him.

As the towel was slowly removed from over the male face, Alice felt her own eyes water at the sight. Strands of once dark brown hair are now as black as coal, and near the forehead is a medium band of hair as white as snow. The eyebrows have also darkened and now look more toned — there's a new small scar that divides the left eyebrow into two parts, giving it a dangerous look. The nose has changed a little, there is a slight inclination to the right side — perhaps the blow that cut the eyebrow was the same one that broke the nose. Lean cheeks and high cheekbones, a square, razor-sharp jaw with a cleft in the chin — she can remember the feeling of resting her hands there when she was younger. Medium pink lips slightly dry, cupid's bow well drawn — soft.

And the eyes, dammit, they're almost the same.

Gray, blue, green and brown were what were there before. But now, when she looked into the man's eyes, Alice found that those eyes almost glowed in a magical way. The grays and blues seemed to get lighter, the green ring of the coloured iris was lit as if exposed to black light, and the auburn had never been so crimson before. Hesitant, Alice took a step forward waiting to see if he would move away, not receiving any kind of negative reaction she walked again until her female body was almost touching the man's.

—Jason? — Alice's voice was nothing more than a watery whisper.

A small nod led her to touch the pale scars of the other's skin. Slowly her hands reached Jason's shoulders and that's when she pulled him into a hug. A hug that waited five years to happen. Hell, she'd wait forever to touch him again if need be.

Slowly, Jason dropped the towel on the living room floor and wrapped his arms around Alice's waist as well. Her fingers crept up to the nape of black hair where Alice pulled the male face closer, the female breaths ragged and quick. Jason was as quiet as he could, the shock of finding his one and only love had come three years ago when he'd broken out of the League of Assassins and sought her out for the first time since coming back to life. That day when he saw her leave the Gotham University campus, Jason thought he would die again with the speed his heart was beating. Alice held him close for a while before pulling away slightly and bringing her hands to Jason's face.

— You are alive... — Alice murmured, looking into Jason's eyes.

— I am. — The man's eyes roamed the face of the woman he loves even after everything. — You shouldn't be here.

Outch.

—How long? — Alice ignored the dismissive phrase he directed at her.

— As soon as I died, Ra's Al Ghul himself had his League followers take me to Nanda Parbat and put me in the Lazarus Pit. And then I was back to life. That's the short version. — Jason explained with a resigned sigh.

— That was five years ago, Jason. — Alice took a step back. — Why didn't you come back? If you had come back, I would have…

— Would have done what? — Jason interrupted, frowning hard. — Hmm? Take me to Bruce? To a fucking therapist? Moved out with me? Oh yes, what a wonderful idea! You would have done everything but the one thing I needed! — Alice flinched again when he practically shouted the last sentence.

— I would have helped you get well again. — Alice completed the sentence before cut by the angry brunette.

— You couldn't do that.

— How can you be so sure? — Alice asked, trying to ignore the way the pieces of her heart broke again at Jason's lines.

— Because you didn't. — Jason ran his fingers through his hair and turned away from her. — You didn't kill him.

Alice took a deep breath at the statement. Jason couldn't even say the clown's name.

—I wanted. I tried.

— But he keeps breathing, he keeps hurting and terrorizing and killing innocent people, and you keep letting him live! — When Jason screamed again, Alice finally realized that death didn't just affect him physically. Jason had never yelled at her before he died, but now it seemed like an easy thing for him to do.

— My parents died and I had nothing. So Bruce, Dick and Alfred took me in and I got a family. And then you came along. I had it all when I had you all. But you died, Jason! — Alice raised her voice looking hard at her ex-boyfriend. — You were my fucking safe place, the person I dreamed of having a future with, but you died! And again I had lost someone I loved, only this time I still had my family. Killing that monster would take that away from me. You can't judge me because I was and still am afraid of being alone! Having nothing again! — Both faced each other like two rabid lions. — Killing him wouldn't bring you back!

— But that would stop you from doing the same to other people.

— Let's be honest here, Jason. — Alice took three steps forward speaking through gritted teeth. — Bruce and Dick are the altruists here, not me, not you! I already lost my family once, it won't happen again, even if the rest of the world burns to ashes.

Jason looked surprised by the revelation. Years ago that sentence would not have been said by her, however the world is cruel and at some point you learn to be cruel too. As most people would, Alice will keep everyone else's family safe as long as her own is not at severe risk.

— What you don't understand is that if you'd come back to me, not Bruce or Dick or Alfred, but just me, I would have stayed with you, stayed for you, even if you weren't the same anymore. I would have stayed because that's more than anyone else in the world would have done for you. — Alice's bright tears escaped her crystalline eyes and ran down her cheeks until they fell from her chin. — I would have done all that and more if you'd only wanted me the way I wanted you.

Without waiting for an answer — which probably wouldn't come — Alice turned her back on the expressionless man and left through the same window she used to enter. She just ignored the heartbreak she'd left in the apartment along with the man she'd once known. For the next two weeks there were no alarming activities in Gotham and the little things that happened Alice left up to Bruce. In those days there were no signs of Jason, and Gotham for what could be the first time in history did not have a case of homicide followed by robbery registered by the police. Everyone was too quiet, including Black Mask who had recently sworn the Red Hood to death.

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end, and peace in the city is no exception. Alice jumped slightly when the cell phone started to vibrate on the vacant sofa seat, Bruce's name was what convinced her to answer the call, only to find that one of the nightclubs protected by the Red Hood had been attacked and a hostage taken. Despite her reluctance to wear the costume, Alice got up and did, after all what would she say to Bruce? "He's Jason, I've known for a few weeks now, but I haven't told you and I don't want to meet him"? It certainly wasn't a good idea, even if she had doubts that Bruce didn't know yet. It didn't take long for both of them to jump down the train bridge to stop the mercenary quartet from finishing the job, ie killing Jason.

— What took you so long? — Red Hood, or Jason, asked as soon as he saw her. Sarcasm dripping of his voice.

— Shut up and fight. — Bruce ordered starting a fight with two of them at the same time. Jason and the only woman in the other group got into a violent fight while Alice went for the man with the bat.

The Huntress ducked, dodging the long weapon and jumped, turning her right leg towards the man's face. He was momentarily unbalanced, but his training quickly gave him stability. Alice easily defended the blow that should hit the region of the ribs — where the cut made by Jason was still sensitive — but his next move hit the back of the vigilante's knees throwing her back to the ground. Ignoring the lack of air for survival reasons, Huntress rolled to the side avoiding the stick that would hit her in the face and immediately planted one of her feet on the dirt floor, making a 360-degree turn, knocking him down just as he had done with her. Immediately, Alice touched the newly acquired device — with the famous Deadshot, aka Floyd Lawton, an anti-hero who acts as an informant for her at times — and triggered the automatic crossbow. Knowing that the amount of shots is limited, she made of everything to hit the mercenary without errors in a non-lethal way, however the man is relatively good at what he does and with little difficulty managed to deflect all the small arrows.

Alarmed by a loud noise, the Huntress jumped forward, dodging the car that was thrown at Bruce and that narrowly missed hitting her too. When she got up, the tip of the staff hit the side of her face, throwing her back to the ground. Amidst the vertigo, she cursed her choice not to pick up the throwing knives when she left the house. As she watched in slow motion as her own blood oozed from the cut in her mouth and dripped onto the dusty floor, Alice remembered the Glock clipped to the back of her utility belt. Even knowing that Bruce will be angry with the use of the firearm, Alice took one of her hands to the place hidden by the purple cape and grabbed the gun. In a matter of three seconds she is already on her feet with her heart pounding in her ears pressing the trigger three times on the chest of the man who was about to hit her again.

Alice dropped the gun and ran towards him, the first blow threw the stick that glowed blue — the fucking stick was glowing blue — on the ground disarming him. The second punch hit where the bullets had been previously embedded in his armour. In the third hit she trowed her kevlar-protected elbow in his face cracking his helmet. On the fourth blow Alice took the mercenary's stick and used it to hit him in the face again, the blow was strong enough to knock him back to the ground with his knees even hitting the side of his head.

Damn, the guy was bent in half like he was being fucked. Alice thought, watching the strangely contorted body on the floor, That must have knocked some vertebra out of its place, this one will never walk again.

Alice tossed her staff aside, seriously considering getting one as well, and walked over to the two men who had finished their fights at the same time as she had. A feeling of familiarity washed over her as she saw the two of them standing side by side like they had years ago before everything went wrong.

— I must admit I missed seeing you in action. — Jason's voice filled the momentary silence.

Before an answer could be given, one of the mercenaries returned and fired a laser beam towards them.

— Watch out! — Jason screamed, stepping in front of Alice and getting hit instead.

Both were thrown a few meters back, Alice blinked slowly in bewilderment after being hit in the face by Jason's helmet. The two squirmed on the ground as Bruce tackled the mercenary, failing faster than expected. Alice lifted her face from the ground recovering only to receive another fierce kick. When she looked up again, she saw Jason immobilized by the mercenary who was ready to blow his head right there.

Jason's name caught in her throat along with a desperate scream.

— Let him go. — Batman ordered standing up holding a high voltage taser. — And it's better to stay away.

At that moment that Alice realized that Bruce knows who is under the helmet and that if she hadn't found out on her own she would probably have been blindsided for quite some time as Bruce would obviously keep it a secret and possibly take her off the case.

How typical.

— A Taser? — The mercenary practically mocked. — If you shoot, you'll fry us both!

— No! — Alice exclaimed, standing up right behind the two men.

— Maybe that's what he wants. — Jason muttered before shoving a device into the mercenary suit's single eye.

Jason was immediately released as the other man was electrocuted by the object, not long after his head exploded. Alice, who was just a few steps away, was showered with the splattered blood. She stood still, feeling the thick liquid of iron smell and taste run down her face, hair and attire.

Slowly, Alice brought a trembling hand to her mouth where she weakly wiped away the blood that covered her lips. Alice had seen people die before, but knowing that Jason had done something like that scared her in a way it hadn't in years.

— You should thank me for killing just one of them. — Jason said staring at the dead man's headless body. Behind him, Bruce stood in shock. — They're all murderers.

— And you are what? — Batman scolded, squeezing his hands into tight fists. Alice thought of several answers, but the one that stood out the most was the word son.

— I'm cleaning up Gotham. It's so much more than you've ever done.

— You're stealing Black Mask's territory and killing everyone who gets in your way!

— Black Mask is only part of the plan. — For some reason, Jason’s answer sent a fearful shiver through Alice’s body, who by then was just a spectator to the two men’s conversation.

— Plan? You're turning into a Crime Lord.

— Yes, I am! There is no way to stop crime. This is something you never understood! The only way is to control it, and that's what I'm doing, I'm controlling it. — A part of Alice can't disagree with Jason.

— You want to dominate them with fear, but what do you do with the ones don't fear you? You finish them off!

— Tell me what happened to you, I'll help you! — Bruce’s proposal stiffens Jason’s body slightly.

— Too late. You already had your chance.

— Jay… — Alice called quietly, only for the man almost beside her to hear.

Alice looked at him ready to approach, but Jason shook his head in denial before throwing a smoke bomb on the ground and running away.

When the smoke dispersed, Alice stood in the same place, trying to understand how things got that way. What did they do wrong to deserve this. And once again in her life, it was as if Jason had slipped through her fingers and there was nothing she could do to get him back.

Jason needs space. He needs to go his own way… But Alice can't breathe as they walk at his pace.

#Jason Todd x Reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x oc #jason todd x oc #batman x oc

[spellbook-gayboy]

Ooh action 28 paired with dialogue 13

okie dokie!

28 + 13.

“Yeah, yeah, in a minute, love,” Ian said, not even looking back as he sat hunched over, scribbling ink onto the old yellowing pages of the spell book. “Just gotta make sure this is right before I put it away...!”

“Ian...” Paul called. 

“Yeah, I know, just lemme-!”

“Ian.”

Ian stopped at the word. He slowly turned his head to look behind the collar of his cloak, spying the less than pleased look on his boyfriend’s face. “Ah... you planned something, didn’t you?”

“That I did.” Paul confirmed, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow as he tapped his foot on the floor. “So, d’you wanna stay in here and keep scribbling who-knows-what in that book while you reek like a dead cat,” He asked, “Or do you wanna shower for probably the first time this week, and join me on the couch in clothes that are actually clean?”

Ian blinked. His gaze flitted between his partner and the book. “Well... now that I think about it, the book can wait a day or two?”

“If you think so, honey.”

---

Ian scratched his neck, pulling at the hem of his beaten green tee. The Séance Dog logo had largely faded off the front of it from being washed so many times, only a few flecks of paint left. His lounge pants were partially eaten by moths, littered with holes around the waist and ankles that often joined together to expose the clothes’ insides or, more commonly, his bare legs. Most of these clothes had been around for at least three or four years, fished out of a clothing bin in Singapore or stolen from someone’s washing lines.  

“You ready, Ian?” He heard from downstairs. He checked his hair (not quite as messy as it usually was) before trudging down the polished spruce steps, his slippers making muffled padding noises. 

Paul was currently draped across one half of the red leather couch, sitting in a pair of grey sweatpants and his old Sacramento Kings jersey. His fingers drummed on the top of the TV remote as he eyed his boyfriend’s entry into the room. “Have I ever told you how well you clean up?”

Ian scoffed. “Alright, I get it! I’ll try and shower more!” He replied, rubbing at his eyes as he sat down. “Spirits, how long have I been up?!”

“About three... no, four days straight.” Paul told him. He shifted, now draping himself over the wizard. “You might be the only magic-user who does what you do, but that doesn’t mean you have to work yourself to death trying to fix every problem that comes your way! You’re only human, Ian.”

“Well, half human.”

Paul’s frown made Ian realise that his joke could’ve had better timing. 

“...I know what you mean, love. It’s just that I... I’m still new at this, y’know? I’ve gotta show everyone that I can pull my weight!” Ian confessed, blinking through bloodshot eyes at the ceiling as his head lolled back. “This whole ‘mystic defender of Earth’ schtick is the first thing I’ve had that could actually be long-term for me. I wanna be, well, worthy of it!”

“Worthy?” Paul asked, surprised by his choice of words. “Ian, you’re already worthy of it about a hundred times over! Hell, you’ve been at this less than a year and you’ve already saved the world about half a dozen times at the very least! And if that doesn’t convince you, then...,” He got closer, his mouth close to Ian’s ear, “then know that you’re worthy to me!”

Ian paused. Then, a smile worked its way across his face. “Are you still wearing that old thing? Not complaining though, ‘specially with the view I get when you do!”

Paul looked confused for a moment, before he realised what the wizard was talking about. His basketball jersey had always been about three sizes too large for his torso, showing off his lean yet somewhat muscled body and arms. “Okay, you raging horndog, simmer down!” He ordered, lightly batting his boyfriend’s arm. “Besides, how am I gonna throw this away? An authentic Kings jersey signed by my first male crush, Darren Collinson? What are you, crazy?”

“Pfft, Darren Collinson, what’s so special about him?” Ian grumbled. “So what, he plays for the NBA? I could play for the NBA if I wanted!”

“I’m sure you could, Ian! Now quiet, I’m putting a movie on!”

#i find it funny that i made paul a basketball fan #cause that man is no taller than like five foot six #invincible #invincible show #invincible amazon #invincible oc #🔮🪄 #ian cantation #👥🐼 #paul cha #multi paul #🔮🐼 #multimagic #my asks #summerfrwrks #writing prompt friday

[earlgreydream]

angry.

| theo nott x reader | smut | fluff |

anon requested. Theo’s had a long stressful day and is rougher and maybe aftercare & the morning after he was rough with her and she’s trying to reassure him that she’s all good and maybe lead to some soft smut

cw: spanking, d/s, rough sex

“Don’t be angry.”

“Fuck you, Malfoy,” Theo spat at his best friend.

You looked up, shocked to hear the hateful words from your typically sweet boyfriend.

“I’ve had the worst fucking day and you keep being a prat and irritating me!”

“Makers, Nott, take a breath,” Zabini scoffed, earning a wicked glare.

“You got me in trouble in astronomy, you ass. Best shut your mouth, Zabini.”

Theo slammed his textbook shut and rose from the table, his chair clattering backwards with a loud noise.

His cloak brushed the wooden steps as he went to his dorm, too frustrated to deal with his friends’ badgering.

You sighed, stacking his books with yours, feeling bad for him. He’d had a terrible day, after a bad week, and his temper was understandable.

“What’s up his ass?”

“Leave him alone. He’s just had a bad day. Be kind to Teddy, please,” you answered Draco, who immediately looked guilty at your sweetness.

You carried your things up to Theo’s bedroom, planning to console him. You knocked softly on the door before entering, setting everything down on the desk. Theo was draped over his green velvet chair, looking stormy and volatile.

“My love, what can I do?” You asked softly, shedding your cloak and walking up to him.

“Nothing, sweetheart. I’m not upset with you. I never want you to think that,” he said, wrapping his arms around your hips and burying his face in your abdomen.

You could feel the waves of anger and frustration pouring off of him, and you would do anything to console him. A deep sigh escaped your boyfriend, and you felt bad for him. Your fingers stroked through his curls, trying to soothe him.

“What can I do, Teddy?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“You’re not. Would it help to get some of the frustration out?” You peeled away from him, letting your dress drop to the floor. 

“Sweetheart, I can’t be gentle right now,” Theo warned.

“That’s okay. I can take it rough. You can hurt me, Teddy,” you breathed, sinking down onto his lap, wearing just your little cotton panties.

“You’re certain?”

You nodded. Theo hesitated, but he trusted you, knowing you’d never let him use you or take it too far.

“What’s your safeword, sweetheart?”

His strong hands squeezed your thighs, and he gazed up at you, kissing your sternum. 

“Black.”

He stood up, his height towering over yours. You peered up at him, shrinking under his stern gaze. Your wrists were taken in one of his large hands, trapped together and leaving you unable to move.

“Need you to be still while I fuck this tight little cunt,” Theo said, his voice several octaves deeper than before.

You didn’t answer, knowing it was unnecessary at this point. His hand came down hard on your ass, leaving a stinging handprint that had you blinking back moisture.

Your back was on the bed, and your knees bent up to your shoulders, leaving you entirely exposed to him. A squeal left your lips when he smacked your cunt, a force behind the blow that almost had your knees closing.

He tapped the head of his cock against your clit, rubbing through your folds and teasing your entrance. Tears were welled in your eyes now, out of need and arousal.

“Fuck!” You cried, dropping your head on the mattress as he slammed into you all at once. Your body struggled to adapt to the stretch, pain shooting through your abdomen as his hips began snapping at a ruthless pace.

“Keep those dirty words out of your pretty mouth,” Theo hissed, pushing two fingers past your lips to keep you from speaking.

He pressed down on your tongue, causing you to gag around him, making your muscles contract around him. Tears were now staining your cheeks, and you tried to ground yourself by sucking on his fingers, the only part of your body you remained in control of.

A low growl erupted from his chest at the action, and he gripped your thigh hard enough to bruise, slamming into your cunt fast and hard. All the angst and irritation came pouring out of him, channeled into fucking you.

Theo swore, dropping his head forward and emptying himself inside of you. You whined around his fingers still in your mouth, and he tugged them out, dropping his hand to rub your clit.

“Theo,” you cried, the stimulation harsh and rough even as he just meant to get you off. Your body convulsed, coming around him as he rutted his hips into yours. 

You ached, unused to being handled so roughly. Theo slid out of you carefully, breathing hard, but visibly less upset than before. It stung as he pulled out, causing a whimper to escape your lips. 

“Sweetheart,” Theo breathed, brushing the tears off of your cheeks. Worry immediately knit in his brow, and you shook your head, leaning up on shaky arms to kiss him. 

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” you promised, even though you ached.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, kissing the space between your eyes.

“Don’t be.” 

“Let me clean you up,” Theo was standing before you could protest, stepping into the ensuite out of your view. 

You laid back against the pillows, trying to catch your breath. Theo breathed another apology when you winced as he tried to clean you up. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so rough,” Theo was distraught, horrified by his own roughness he exhibited with you. 

“Theo, my love, I promise that I am alright,” you insisted, and you meant it. 

He slipped soft cotton up your legs, kissing the soft skin on your belly, making you laugh. Theo made sure to be extremely gentle as he helped you into one of his shirts, a touristy tee from one of the American cities he had traveled to. 

“I love you,” Theo whispered, kissing your cheek and putting a glass of water in your hands as he settled behind you. 

“I love you more,” you giggled, snuggling back against his chest and drinking the water while he read aloud from a book. His fingertips gently trailed over your torso under the soft fabric, tracing shapes on your skin as he soothed you to sleep with his low voice. 

.

Theo rolled over in bed, watching you stand on trembling legs. 

“Don’t leave me,” Theo’s beg was soft and pathetic, fearing you were running after he’d been too aggressive. 

“Oh, no, love. I’m just using the loo,” you kissed his forehead before disappearing, leaving him to relax in the bed. 

.

“I feel terrible.”

“You shouldn’t. I’m all good, just a bit sore,” you tried to assure Theo as you crawled back into the warmth of his bed. 

You settled on your side, smiling as he draped your thigh over his. Theo’s hand went to the back of your neck, gently pulling you into a lazy kiss. It quickly turned into a sleepy makeout session, your hands smoothing over the muscles on his abdomen, and his hands under your shirt and the fabric of your underwear, squeezing and palming your bum. 

“I need you,” you breathed against his lips, growing wet and aroused. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’ll be fine as long as you’re gentle. Please just fuck me.” 

Theo couldn’t deny you when you begged, and he quickly was tugging his boxers down while you stripped beside him. His hand held under your thigh, pulling it up so he could angle himself to fuck you. 

Your forehead rested on his chest as he gently rolled into you, easing the ache between your hips. You exhaled softly, melting into him as he gently thrusted into you at a steady, lazy pace. 

You lowered your hand to gently rub your clit as he fucked you, your other fingers tangled in his hair as his mouth swallowed your tiny, pathetic moans. 

“I want to feel you come around me, sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing your cheek and pushing all the way inside of you until your hips connected. 

“Squeeze that pretty pussy. I just want to feel you let go,” he murmured before lightly teasing your nipples, making the pressure dissolve as you orgasmed. 

“Teddy,” you whined, a silent cry catching in your throat as you felt him come all over your inner thighs, making an absolute mess of you. 

You dropped your head down onto his shoulder, murmuring a thanks as he cleaned the two of you up with a simple spell. You resigned yourself to lazing the day away in bed, sleeping and making out, spending time with your soft lover.

#earl grey theo #theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x reader smut #theodore nott x reader fluff #theo nott x reader fluff #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x reader smut #theo nott smut #theo nott fluff #theo nott oneshot #theo nott imagine #golden era #harry potter #female reader

[white-h0ney]

Late Night Coffee

a/n: this is a short and very soft Dano!riddler x reader one shot written as a result of me falling more in love with paul dano after seeing the batman last week!

warnings: this is an 18+ fic which contains mature content and smut! please do not interact if you are a minor! a full list of tags can be found on my AO3 !

word count: 5.8k

i am by no means an experienced fanfic or smut writer so, apologies in advance for any spelling or grammar issues i haven’t picked up on! this was super fun to write and i hope everyone enjoys! <3 please feel free to leave any feedback <3

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

The hands of the clock which hung on the wall of the diner ticked past midnight and you let a long sigh fall from your lips. You had been alone for most of the evening, Stan the chef had left several hours earlier, with no one at all to cook for he had seen no point in sticking around. You could hardly blame him as today had been unusually quiet and the lack of patrons had only made your twelve hour shift feel impossibly slow. After locking up by yourself on numerous occasions, the repetition of turning off the coffee machine, securing the till and pulling the storefront shutter down had now become routine to you, the monotonous nature of your days making you feel like a miniscule, unimportant cog in the great machine that was Gotham City. Whilst you were certainly acclimated to being by yourself, both at work and at home, it was hard not to feel lonely in the large, imminent expanse of the urban metropolis that lay just beyond the diner window.

You glanced at the stool to the left of you a little way down the counter, which tonight had stayed painfully empty. A seat, which when filled, usually brought you a much welcomed comfort during your lonely late night shifts now sat vacant. No notebook full of illegible scrawlings on the counter, no half drunken coffee cup waiting to be refilled. No green eyes looking longingly at you behind steamed up lenses. Just empty.

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

You had met Edward just over six months ago, when the leaves on the few trees that lined the streets of Gotham were finally turning green – a sight which looked so out of place in the grey, maze like expanse of the city. Much like the greenery of spring, Edward had also looked out of place when he had first shuffled into the diner and taken his now regular spot towards the end of the counter.  He was like a breath of fresh air. Quiet and polite, so unlike your regular patrons, all of whom you were certain belonged to one of the many perilous gangs in the area, and often left you with an unsavoury feeling in your stomach.

In the first initial month of Edward visiting the diner you barely exchanged a word. Polite nods towards empty cups of coffee and the occasional quiet thankyou were the only contact he had made with you as he sat for hours on end writing in a small leather notebook. He rarely made eye contact and barely acknowledged your presence, his sole focus being the many pages of writing in front of him and his constant cups of coffee. Occasionally watching him as he wrote, the sight of his soft brown hair, defined nose and doe-y green eyes became a welcome sight on your lonesome nights shifts. You caught yourself staring on several different evenings at the way he would place the end of his pen beneath his lips when he was stuck on what to write next, running his tongue across his bottom lip. He had a habit of running his hands through his tousled hair as he pondered over his endless pages of notes, always leaning back on his stool and exposing the toned yet soft skin of his torso, a movement that was so simple yet so inexplicably alluring. He was curiously interesting. Maybe it was because he was so unlike your other patrons, or maybe it was just him.

Gradually he seemed to come out of his shell, what had begun with little to no communication evolved slowly into regular smiles and nods whenever he entered the establishment. You thought at first it may have just been him getting more comfortable sitting in the diner, new places were daunting you knew that all too well, but Edwards smiles were only ever directed towards you, never the other waitresses on shift. Whilst his actions were small you couldn’t help but feel like maybe you were his favourite.

He broke your unspoken rule of silence two months or so into his visits. You two had been the only people in the diner for several hours, sitting in comfortable silence until Edward finally spoke up.

“I- I’m so sorry to bother you, but do you happen to have a pen you wouldn’t mind me borrowing?” he had asked softly, pushing his messy hair out of his face as he leant forwards onto the counter. His voice was gentle, with a sultry deepness to its tone.

You were surprised he had even spoken to you; you almost had convinced yourself that you would retain the same waitress-customer relationship for the entirety of his visits. Smiling, you didn’t let your surprise show, yet it felt like a welcomed relief to finally, fully hear his voice.

“Of course.” You had replied with a soft smile, quickly picking out the pen that was holding your bun of hair in place on the back of your head, letting it fall naturally to your shoulders.

His eyes had lingered on yours as you did so before they began travelling slowly down to the nape of your neck and subsequently swiftly back up to meet your eyeline once more, resting there as you passed him the pen across the counter. Your hands brushed, albeit briefly, but the feeling sent a wave of welcomed tension, almost electric in feeling, up your arm and throughout the rest of your body.

Since then, the length of your conversations, and the frequency of Edwards visits had grown and grown. Your discussions at first, were centred around regular topics such as the weather or the horrendous traffic that often blocked up Gotham’s busy roads, but gradually you grew to discuss more personal things. Where you both grew up, your time at school, bad prom dates, a range of anecdotal stories were shared over many cups of coffee and the red diner counter the two of you were so familiar with. You were certainly the more forthcoming person in each conversation, you sensed a nervousness to him that you felt best not to push him for stories of his own life when he seemed perfectly happy to sit, smiling softly, as he listened to you talk. He never judged, never laughed at small insecurities of yours, he just listened and offered comfort where he could. He eventually shared more as your late nights together went on, telling you about his childhood spent in the old Wayne orphanage on the outskirts of town. His eyes fell sad, and heavy when on rare occasions he did reveal aspects of his past, and every now and then when the two of you sat beside each other at the counter he would let his hand gently brush yours, as though your touch was a needed comfort when he revisited his childhood memories.

There were many nights you caught him lost in thought, daydreaming across the counter with his eyes lingering gently on you. His soft, green irises were like melted pools of honey in the dim light of the diner, and you often found yourself focusing on his elegant, taught jawline as he wrote page after page of illegible text in his book, daydreaming just as he did some nights. He would, of course, immediately return to his scrawling after meeting your eyeline, though both of you would have a subtle smile on your lips after catching each other’s glances.

One night in late June, you two had been the only individuals in the diner, a common occurrence especially on weekend nights, when Edward had done something entirely new. You had begun to put away the clean cups and plates into their rightful places ready for the next day of work, when he had gotten up and walked behind the counter and all of a sudden began to help you.

“You don’t have to do that!” You had assured him, immediately taking the cup that was in his hand and placing it in the sink behind the counter.

“I insist.” He chuckled, turning to lean over the counter and retrieve another stray plate which had been abandoned there earlier by another customer. You tilted your head at him in curiosity.

“It’s the least I can do to repay you for all these late nights you stay and keep me company. I’m sure you have better places to be than here.”

You shook your head in response.

“You say that as if I’m not paid to be here Edward.” You laughed, allowing him to pass you the plate so that you could add it to the pile of mounting dishes in the sink.

“Well yes” he smiled coyly “but you were meant to close at 11.30 tonight, yet here we are again at 2am after you’ve listened to one of my many ramblings.”

“I enjoy talking with you, it’s the only thing that stops me..” you paused in embarrassment, looking down at your shoes as you felt hot wave flush your cheeks.

Edward’s hand reached across the counter, his thumb making soft contact with your chin before his fingers caressed your cheek, eventually coming to rest and cupping the side of your face gently. His touch felt like an incredible relief, long anticipated, and you leaned into his hand slightly in response.

“It’s the only thing that stops me feeling alone in this city.”

Edward smiled in reply, his eyes were gentle and reassuring. “I understand, if it weren’t for my time with you, I fear I would be the loneliest person in Gotham.” A soft chuckle escaped his mouth as he laughed at his own words, you knew he thought they were silly or embarrassing, but they meant the world to you.

You both smiled honestly at each other, holding eye contact for longer than ever, before his hand fell from your cheek and he began to collect the crockery that was scattered around the diner. Your face felt empty at the loss of his touch, internally pining for more of his contact, but you resumed your behind the counter cleaning as the comfortable silence returned once more.

This routine continued, and one evening after you had explained to Edward how you thought someone had followed you to your car the previous night, he insisted on walking you to wherever it was parked. It was, in his own words, something he would do for anybody, but his actions only ramped up the sense of security you felt every time he was nearby. It was a genuine feeling of safety and trust, and he was the only person in the world with whom you even remotely identified or enjoyed spending your time with. When he spoke to you there was an earnest respect in his voice, you didn’t have to force yourself to believe that he cared for you when it was so evident in his words and actions. In the large, daunting and dismal expanse of Gotham City, full of far more important and interesting characters, Edward Nashton made you feel seen.

Neither of you ever discussed your feelings for each other. Or rather, you never revealed yours on the embarrassing off chance that he genuinely only saw you as a friend- which of course you would have respected but certainly winced at the thought of. You weren’t sure if you were reading into the small signals he gave you, his light touches in passing and subtle lingering glances at your chest, your hands, just at you in general all suggested he felt the same as you. Though you didn’t dare to assume.

It was the past Monday when you had last seen Edward, five long evenings ago. He had walked you to your car like always, holding his umbrella above you both as you stood saying your goodbyes on the side of the pavement.

“I won’t be here again until next Friday.” He had confessed, a slight guilt in his eye as he spoke to you. Your heart sank in your chest, it was rare that he missed more than two nights at the diner, let alone over a week, and you dreaded to think how lonely you would be without him there as you worked.

“How come?” you sighed, looking up at him, your chest almost pressed to his as you huddled to stay out of the rain.

“Well, I’m thinking of getting out of town, moving on, Gotham’s lost its touch.” He smiled faintly in an attempt to reassure you, though you weren’t sure how believable his story was. Not that he owed you the truth about his private goings on.

“Oh” you sighed in disappointment, though you didn’t want to let him know you might miss him, nor that you wished you could go with him and escape this terribly city.

“Well so long as you don’t find a diner you enjoy sitting and writing in more than this one” you joked as you bit back the tears that were welling in your eyes.

“The diner isn’t what I enjoy, you know that love.” Your cheeks flushed red at the affection he had just shown you; it was unlike Edward to be forward whatsoever so this sudden show of fondness from him caught you off guard. His eyes looked longingly into yours, like he wanted you to beg him to stay, to never leave you alone in this city again. Or beg him to take you with him. The anticipation lingered, the two of you looking into each other’s eyes under his umbrella, the rain pouring down around you, as though the rest of Gotham ceased to exist. You didn’t need it to. You only needed him.

“Next Friday. 11pm sharp. I can’t be there earlier, but I’ll walk you to your car once your shifts up, I’ve got some loose ends to tie up before I move. I’ll make sure you’re safe a-and I want to say goodbye properly.”

His hand that was free from holding his umbrella was now resting on yours, another surprising show of affection that you supposed was his silent way of telling you he’d miss you too.

“11pm next Friday.” You nodded in acknowledgement whilst holding your gaze, it hurt to think that this might be one of the last times you saw him. You took it all in, his sculpted cheekbones, his soft nose and his alluring, doe green eyes, scoring the image of him into your brain so that you might not ever forget it. You never wanted to forget it.

“I’ll be there. I promise.” The air hung thick with tension around you both as you huddled closer to him, your bodies pressed together underneath his umbrella. Edward looked at you with a desperate yearning in his eyes, his gaze flittering between your eyes and your lips, it felt like the city fell silent around you. His beauty unsteadied you, the faint light of a nearby streetlamp illuminating his strong features in the darkness of the night, his lips plush and inviting. It was strange to be so close to him after rarely touching at all over the past six months and it was a miracle your legs didn’t buckle beneath you.

You broke the contact moments later, turning to unlock the door of your car before smiling up at him.

“Goodnight y/n”

“Goodnight Edward”

He pushed the door of your car shut gently, stepping further onto the pavement as you started the engine and waved at him through the window. Pulling off, you looked into your rear-view mirror, Edwards silhouette lit up by the street lamp on the corner of the road, waving you off into the night.

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

It was just gone 11pm on a dingy Friday night in the diner, the lights outside buzzed drearily in the rain and you wandered over to the windows to pull the blinds down, shielding your view of the dull City streets. Your last customer had left about an hour ago and you were more than ready to head home for the night, the majority of your cleaning and preparation for the next day already attended to. You glanced at the stool to your left, his spot, and quickly turned your head away, a wave of disappointment biting at you. It had been four weeks to the day since Edward had told you he would come back to say goodbye. Every night since then you had waited and waited, always holding on a little farther past closing time with the hope might show up; and always feeling more and more embarrassed when he didn’t.

Picking up a cloth from the counter to polish the tables with, you began to drift off into a daydream, your mind hazy and tired after a long days work, when you were pulled abruptly back to reality by a faint tapping noise on the glass of the diner door.

“I’m so sorry we’re just about to clos-“ you were cut short when you looked outside through the glass off the diner door. Edward was stood outside, his clothes drenched from the heavy rain that was falling over the city with no coat nor umbrella to shield him from it. His doe eyes looked back at you through the window with a look of desperation written across his face and he raised his hand slightly, giving you a small wave. He was dressed unusually, in a white shirt and long black tie, both of which were soaked through, exposing his soft, pale skin beneath the formal shirt. The rain had drenched him completely and his soft brown hair was now messily pushed back out of his face, the cold of the outside had flushed his cheeks and his nose and as he stood looking inwards at you, the rain continued to pour and pour outside. You stared at him for a moment, a mixture of stunned relief and anger bubbling inside you – yes, he had finally come back, and for that you were immensely thankful because you had spent every day since his leaving missing him more and more. Worrying about him, every waking moment of your past days had been consumed thinking about where he was, who he was with, if he was safe? If he was coming back? But it was too little too late. You were foolish to have trusted him, to have trusted anyone in Gotham City.

You walked slowly towards the door and as you did a small smile of relief formed on Edwards lips, a genuine sorrowful look engrained in his eyes. Unlocking the latch on the door, you swung it open, though you didn’t step backwards to let him in, remaining in the doorway.

“I’m just about to close, you’ll have to go get coffee elsewhere.” You said bluntly, keeping your eyes fixed sternly on his as you spoke.

“I’m not here for coffee.” He replied solemnly as he nervously ran his hand through his hair- his fingers shaking a little from the cold bite of the rain. What the fuck was this guy after?

“Then why are you are here Edward?” Your hurt was obvious in your voice, whilst you had aimed to act nonchalant about his sudden return the emotions that were clouding your mind prevented you from hiding your true feelings from him.

“I- I came to apologise. I know I’m late. Very late. But I had to see you. I’m so sorry, my work project ran over a couple of days.” There was a pining in his voice that made your heart twinge.

“Weeks.” You retorted.

“I am deeply, deeply sorry. I never intended to-“

“Never intended to what, Edward?” you snapped back at him, though the anger in our voice was slowly being overtaken. “Never intended to lie to me. To leave me here. To let me worry and miss you for weeks and weeks on end, feeling like the stupidest person in all of Gotham for letting you lead me on to believe that you actually liked me?” Tears had begun to sting your eyes, welling up past the point of control, now spilling down your cheeks as you looked into his sad eyes through the doorway.

“You promised” you cried, wiping your cheeks with the sleeves of your shirt as you began to turn away, intending to slam the door in his face. It was what he deserved.

“I came back for you.” His words echoed around your head as you struggled to grasp the true meaning behind them.

“I’m not naïve Edward! You came back here to cover your ass before leaving again. God, I’m so stupid for ever believing that you cared-“

“I came back to ask you to come away with me! I- I need you to be there with me.” His voice was raised slightly now, and the sincerity in his tone was astounding. You didn’t trust it though why had he taken off so suddenly and left you with no notice of his return? Why did he let you believe he had abandon you, with no intention of even saying goodbye.

“I- Edward I don’t know, how can I trust-“

Edward cut you off, stepping through the doorway towards you and smothering your mouth with his own as his large hands moved upwards to gently cup the sides of your face. You froze momentarily, your body stiff as a board. And then.. it was as though your anger melted away at his long-awaited touch, your body liquifying against him as you kissed him back, his lips so soft and mellow against your own. He released you momentarily and looked deep into your eyes and it was as though he was asking trying to gage if you wanted to ask him to leave or to kiss you again.

I came back for you.

You smiled and reached your hands forward to snag the collar of his drenched shirt, pulling him into you once more. He smiled into the kiss this time, his lips moving ardently against your own as you slowly moved your hands from his collar, lacing your fingers in his wet length of hair. His hands moved with yours, one of them trailing its way down from its resting place on your cheek to the small of your waist where his thumb began to rub gentle circles over the fabric of your uniform. He was tender, your frame delicate in his hands. You moved backwards in unison, one of Edwards’s hands reaching instinctively behind him to swiftly shut the door, flip the latch and pull the blind down to match the rest of the shaded windows of the diner. The whole time he moved his lips stayed on yours, his kisses urgent and eager as though he couldn’t get enough of how it felt to finally be able to touch you, to hold you like he had always dreamt of.

You leant into Edward more, deepening your kiss, your lips parting in invitation. He took the calling lustfully, tilting your head gently to one side for better access as his tongue ran along your bottom lip teasingly before delving into your mouth, a muffled groan escaping his mouth as he tasted you. Moaning against his lips you pressed your body closer to his, not caring about the rainwater from his clothes that was now soaking you too. You wanted, no, needed to be as close to him as possible.

Edward pulled away briefly and looked yearningly into your eyes, his desire for you obvious now as he dragged his thumb slowly across your bottom lip; his gaze trailing slowly down from your eyes to your lips to your chest where it hovered for a lustful moment before returning to look directly at you. He leaned in closer, his lips were now less than an inch away from yours and the hand that was previously resting on your waist had trailed upwards to your neck and his thumb had begun to rub soft lines across your collar bone.

“You are so, unfathomably beautiful.” He spoke quietly but with an earnestness that made your heart ache. A small tear escaped your eye, waves of relief and long-awaited anticipation crashed into you as he whispered the sweet words to you. Edward kissed the spot on your cheek where the tear fell before moving to kiss your other cheek, his lips cold but plush against your warm skin. He looked into your eyes once more and pulled you closer so that your chest was pressed against his, one of your legs falling between his. He lingered momentarily whilst looking at you, taking your beauty in completely before his lips crashed into yours once more. This kiss was different, it was driven by lust and his mouth moved passionately over yours as his hands explored the curves of your body.

He manoeuvred the two of you gently backwards, pushing your body up against the counter which sat at roughly just over waist height on you. Not asking for permission this time, he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, the friction between your two bodies pulling a soft moan from your lips. Your hands wandered down from Edwards’s hair, one lingered on the back of his neck whilst you planted the other firmly on his chest tracing teasing circles across his skin with your index finger. His hands moved too, tracing a sultry line down from your face to your white button up shirt which by now was soaked through on one side from your close contact with him. His fingers worked quickly but tenderly to undo each button of your top before it was completely open, exposing your breasts to him. He sucked in a breath as he pulled away for a moment, his eyes raking lazily over your body causing a warmth to flush deep inside of you. Tilting your head to one side with his hand, Edwards began to kiss a soft line across your jaw, his lips dragging wantonly across your skin and earning more delicate moans from you as he went.

He continued his path downwards, working his lips across your neck, initially only kissing you before he reached the nape of your neck where he nipped your skin with his teeth, pulling on it gently and groaning as he did. Eventually he reached your chest, placing kisses on each of your collarbones before bending slowly down, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth as his hand palmed the other. He bit down gently onto the soft flesh, pulling a breathy moan from you as his lips worked fervently over your sensitive bud. He placed a kiss on your sternum before taking your other breast in his mouth, biting and sucking it softly as his fingers kneaded the other, tracing a circle around your nipple before pinching it with a little pressure between his thumb and forefinger. His actions caused a fire to burn within you, fuelled by your longing for him.

Edward continued downwards, tracing a slick line down your stomach with his tongue as he moved to position himself on his knees in front of you. With a suave movement, his hands ran up the outside of your thighs and up under your skirt. You responded, pulling the loose fabric upwards, exposing your bare legs and the dark, cotton underwear that you had thrown on this morning. He leant forwards, his mouth hovering over your cunt before placing a teasing kiss on the fabric of your underwear causing your breath to hitch in your throat. The warmth in your stomach grew more intense with his every move and your whole body flushed with an untamed yearning for him. Edward pulled your underwear down agonisingly slowly, allowing his fingers to graze the skin of your thighs as he moved, pulling them off and discarding them on the floor. Using his left hand to steady himself, he swiftly lifted one of your legs, pulling it upwards to rest on his shoulder and exposing your already soaking cunt to him.

He trailed quick kisses and bites up the inside flesh of your thigh before dragging his tongue across your mound, tasting you.

“So, so sweet,” he groaned before he repeated the action, lazily swiping his tongue up your slit before pausing briefly when he reached your clit. He licked it once mockingly before sucking it between his teeth, forcing a loud moan to escape your throat, your mouth falling agape in pleasure. His mouth remained on you for several minutes, sucking and licking at your clit more fervently with every moan he drew from your mouth, his movements driven by your pleasure. Edwards’s mouth withdrew form you momentarily but before you had time to protest, his free hand was on you, the rough pad of his thumb lazily circling your clit. A pressure was beginning to build within you has he stroked your sensitive bundle of nerves. Dipping down slightly whilst securing your leg on his shoulder, he teased your entrance with his middle finger, dragging it up through your wetness.

“Mmph, please,” you begged, your hands laced in his hair once more, gripping tighter as frustration built up within you. Edward smirked, looking up at you with adoration before plunging his finger into you, your walls clamping down around him as he moved slowly inside of you. Gasps of pleasure left your mouth as he continued to stroke in and out of you, pausing only briefly to add his ring finger to your cunt, forcing the pressure in your stomach to build even more. You rocked your hips forwards, pleading for more, and he answered, his mouth making contact with your clit again. He sucked and teased it with his tongue, his digits pumping faster and faster inside of you causing your pleasure to skyrocket even further. Your grip on his hair tightened as he continued to fuck you with his fingers, his mouth working ardently over your sensitive clit and each time he groaned the hum of his voice against your cunt drove you wild. The pressure that had been building inside of you began to peak as Edward’s soft lips and fingers worked perfectly in unison to draw your orgasm from you.

“God yes!” you pleaded.

A wave of pleasure slammed into you as you met your climax and Edwards eyes were trained on your face as you came on his fingers, watching your relish in the bliss you were feeling.

Gently removing your now shaking leg from his shoulder, he stood up to face you once more and pulled you into a deep kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands worked quickly to unbutton his shirt as he kissed you, pushing the wet fabric over his shoulders, your fingers finally making contact with the supple skin of his torso. Pulling you closer, Edward slid his hands down your waist, gripping your ass tightly and grinding your bodies together, his already hard length pressing against your core. You palmed him through the fabric of his trousers, the contact earning several heated groans from him as his mouth moved against yours. Moving your fingers from where they rested on his chest you worked at unbuckling his belt, undoing the button and zip of his trousers before shoving both those and his underwear to the floor. Edward kicked his bottoms off hastily, along with his shoes, and after removing his clothing he gripped your ass tightly and pulled you up off of the floor, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Hands wrapped firmly around his neck, you held onto him as he spun the two of you around towards one of the diner tables, the head of his cock pushing gently at your slick entrance. He lowered you down onto his length agonisingly slowly, burying himself completely in you and letting your walls stretch to accommodate his size as you moaned wantonly into his mouth. He remained there for a moment, his forehead pressed against yours as he let several gasping breaths escape his mouth before he began lifting you up and sliding you back down onto his cock. He began to move more fervently inside of you and your hands moved from his neck to cup the sides of his face, pressing messy kisses onto his mouth in-between breaths. Edward lifted you hastily off of himself, wasting no time to lay you onto the diner table located behind the two of you before wrapping your legs back around his waist. He leaned down, kissing you with an ardent force, his hands running down the curves of your body, eventually settling either side of your head on the table, before plunging his cock back into you; filling you completely.

His pace quickened as he slammed his hips into yours and the walls of your cunt gripped him in response. Your fingers wandered to his chest, dragging your nails downwards across his soft flesh as the ecstasy built within you, the power of his thrusts climbing as though he could sense your pleasure mounting. Removing his weight from his hands he stood up taller, pulling your legs so that your feet rested on his shoulders, his now free fingers palming and roughly pinching at your breasts. He let one of his hands wander, positioning it over your core as he teasingly swiped the pad of his thumb over your clit, dragging it in circles, his eyes poised on you as he watched you fall apart beneath him. Edward’s head fell back in bliss as he increased both the speed with which he moved his thumb over your clit and the rhythmic thrusts of his hips into you, your body becoming sweat incarnate as he pushed you closer to your climax. You clasped a hand to your mouth to stifle your moans, curving your body on the table to allow him deeper within you, his cock now hitting your sweet spot with more intensity than you thought possible.

“No no” he protested between groans “let me hear you my love” and you obliged, letting your hand return to his chest as you mewled in response. The tingling in your core grew with every movement of his hips and your nails dug deeper into the skin of his chest as he drew you to the peak of pleasure, thrusting deliciously into you as your walls slammed down onto his cock. A wave of luscious pleasure racked your body as you rode out your orgasm and Edward slammed into you a final time, filling you completely. He leant down to your level, remaining inside if you, his hands cupping your cheeks as he kissed you longingly.

“I need you with me, always” he whispered, smiling as he caressed your cheek with his fingers.

“Always” you replied, pulling him into another deep kiss, the rest of the world disappearing around you both once more.

“Now how about that cup of coffee?”

#dano!riddler #dano!riddler / you #dano!riddler fanfiction #paul dano #the riddler #the batman #the riddler x reader #edward nashton #edward nashton x reader #dano!riddler x you #dano!riddler x reader

[genshinboys]

Thigh job with Genshin Boys - Xiao

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Fem reader x Xiao

When you enter your flat, a handsome but grumpy Yaksha is sitting cross-legged on your bed resting his chin in the palm of his small hand. He grimaces and shoots something that can be referred to as a death stare in your direction. 

Here we go again. You think to yourself as you close the door behind you.

„You are late.” He basically growls at you fixing you with another menacing glare.

„It’s nice to see you too, Baby.” You approach the sulking adeptus and lean in to kiss his forehead but, alas, he backs away and frowns in turn.

„Oh, no kisses then?” A smile on your face but a sneer in your voice makes his blood boil.

It is like a match in a powder barrel.

„Don’t play dumb with me, Y/N!” He warns. „I know all of your cheap tricks.”

You let out an annoyed huff. Arms crossed on your chest.

„Why would you even ask when I saw you following me all the damn time, hmm?” You accuse your boyfriend, gazing right into Xiao's averting eyes.

„I wasn’t follow-,” and then he goes silent knowing fully well that lying isn’t an option with you.

„So?” You nag, hoping for any kind of response. „No need to be this jealous, Xiao.”

„Don’t get weird ideas in your head.” The boy deadpans. „I’m not jealous!” He defends himself but it doesn’t sound convincing enough even for his own ears. He blushes and turns his head away.

You let out a sigh and smile warmly at your boyfriend’s pettiness.

Does he even realise how cute he is? You briefly wonder and then you reach for his silky hair and ruffle it affectionately.

It’s been a taxing, full of ups and downs journey since you met the haunted by karmic debt Yaksha. At first, he didn’t even acknowledge your presence. You were just another bothersome individual and he could not care less about your existence. It was unnerving. He was snarky, seething with rage for no reason, hiding his feelings for so long that it seemed to you that they were going to explode inside of him one day leading to his utter despair and demise. You got to know about his past and the weight of his karmic debt from Zhongli. You took pity. Somehow you felt compelled to help the boy, regardless of his repulsive demeanour. The golden-eyed Yaksha was of a different opinion, though. 

Xiao didn’t want you to get close to him. He couldn’t make any sense of your stubbornness. Why would you even want to have anything to do with him? Him? 

A barbaric monster, eaten up alive by remorse and regret. 

A blood-thirsty fiend whose sole purpose of breathing is to slaughter and spread fear wherever he shows his face. 

These were the thoughts so deeply engraved in his unfortunate soul that he couldn’t allow anyone to come near him.

He perceived himself as a hollow, barren of any human emotions vessel. The only feelings he was familiar with were pain and the burden of his legacy that he is forced to carry up to this day.

Bizarrely, as time had passed he was taken aback by some unfamiliar sensation of tightness in his chest. It wasn’t painful. Nothing that would come close to the distress caused by the divine will. It wasn’t permanent, either. It only happened in your presence, as Yaksha would hesitantly observe. Sometimes it got even worse. It would be accompanied by this fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

„Why are you this close? Huh? Do you have a death wish?”

„Move, I don’t have time to sit around and be idle like you do.”

„You have no respect for the adepti. Stop fooling around.” 

The more he pushed you away the more you were determined to lure him in. You couldn’t stop laughing when one day Zhongli informed you that the troubled Yaksha came to him to seek advice regarding this weird tightness in his chest and an upset stomach when you were around. 

And so, you smile fondly at your boyfriend as he yanks your hand away not liking the way you tousle the emerald green strands.

„I’m sorry XIao. I didn’t mean to be late. Just wanted to buy some jewellery.” You point to your thigh to get the adeptus’ attention back where it should be, which is you, not the wall.

Xiao glances at your thigh doing his best to remain impassive and uninterested. Unfortunately, his eyes widen a little and his mouth is somehow stuck hanging open as if he were to say something but the words never come out.

„You saw me bargaining with the shopkeeper, nothing wrong about that, right?” You explain to the adeptus currently captivated by the glimmering golden chain adorning your thigh.

Xiao has a lot to learn when it comes to dealing with his own emotions. You are acutely aware of that. He doesn’t know how to react, how to show that he cares or process what he feels. He doesn’t also entirely understand the purpose of half of the things that you insist on doing to him. Playful bites, tickling, holding his hand in public. He doesn’t question these actions even though it’s all a novelty. He does know for sure that it makes him feel flustered and all hot inside. 

Does he despise it? No. 

Would he like for you to continue? The answer to that question is definitely affirmative but Xiao is not going to admit it out loud. 

He also has no clue how to initiate all of these things. Is he supposed to bite you back as well? What if he hurts you? Everything is so overwhelming as he’s endured years of solitude and sadness. You have to patiently teach him everything from square one. Nevertheless, it’s incredibly rewarding and you find yourself falling for him a bit more with each clumsy kiss, a shy but warm hug and an awkward attempt at complimenting you.

However, despite being not well-versed in sexual encounters, Xiao does pleasantly surprise you by catching up with everything real quick. 

So, as his eyes are fixated on the trinket, you once again run your hand through his lush and long hair.

„Why would you even buy it? Pointless.” The boy retorts grumpily this time showing no signs of objection to your tender gesture. He moves his head up a little, losing himself to the tingling sensation going down his scalp.

„So that you can stare at me like that with those needy eyes?” You answer truthfully, barring the real intent behind your actions.

He snorts and his face turns into that lovely shade of pink and then deep red within seconds.

He would absolutely turn his gaze away if not for the fact that you take his chin in your hand and thrust his face upwards forcing him to look you straight in the eyes.

„If you don’t like it you can take it off.”

„No need.” 

You chuckle softly.

„Let me make amends for my delay.” 

You take a step forward and place your knee on the verge of the bed. Xiao drinks in the view of your thigh-highs squeezing into the meat of your legs. The chain shimmering lightly right above the lacy material.

„You can touch it, Baby.” You encourage the nervous Yaksha.

Visibly tensed, he reaches for the exposed skin and lightly traces the chain with his unsure fingers. It almost tickles but you let him do as he pleases and soon Xiao attempts to fully envelop your thigh with his greedy hand. He does cover half of it at best, but he seems satisfied and proceeds to squeeze it. It feels soft to the touch and he shivers at how warm and inviting your legs are in contrast to his icy-cold and sweaty palms. Bewitched, Xiao aches for more and he selfishly pulls you in so that you are now kneeling in front of him on the bed.

He stops breathing when you swiftly unbutton your shorts and undress for him. You let his eyes roam over your half-naked body for some time enthralled by the way Xiao’s pupils dilate in awe.

You lean into him as Xiao pulls you towards him for a messy kiss. It isn’t gentle as usual but full of passion and urgency. He whines when you bite on his lower lip but then you gently stroke him with your tongue to ease the discomfort.

Slowly, very very slowly, your hands go down his torso only to finally stop at the bulge in Xiao’s loose pants. You tug at the waistband and Xiao lifts his ass a bit to help you strip him naked. His penis, hard and heavy, resting now on his lower belly. He hisses when you palm his hard erection and that simple touch sends jolts of electricity down his spine. It leaves him intoxicated once you start gliding with the heel of your palm up and down the underside of his member. You repeat the movement and Xiao’s body jerks in response.

„Don’t tease.” The adeptus pleads through gritted teeth.

„I’m so sorry, Baby. Gonna make you feel real good.”

Xiao can feel himself growing impossibly harder when you place your feet on either side of his hips. When he looks down he can see your wet folds and the pinkish colour of your tight hole. Lying on your back, you prop yourself on your elbows so that you can look at Xiao’s face in the process. You scoot a bit closer to the confused boy, your bum is right in front of his erected shaft. You take his cock in your hand and guide him in between your thighs. In the beginning, you try to be delicate. You gently rub the tip of his cock, circle his shaft with your fingers and with a fisted hand spread his pre-cum all the way down to his pubic hair so that he is thoroughly lubricated. You wouldn’t like to hurt the boy during the whole ordeal. 

His breath is shallow. Excitedly, you clasp your thighs together and start playing with his dick. You rotate your hips and massage his cock. It slides in and out and Xiao growls feeling ecstatic. You exchange between rubbing him with your thighs or gliding your hand along his cock, starting at the very top and working your way down to the bottom until Xiao can’t stifle his cries anymore. A few more strokes and he is definitely going to beg. 

Xiao is on fire. It feels too good to be true and he wants this moment to last forever. He licks his dry lips and moans wantonly thrusting his hips forward. He meets you mid-way and the friction it creates every time he pushes his dick in between your legs leaves him gasping.

„You’re making me cum, Y/N.” He cries out for the last time before it is too late to warn you.

„Then cum for me, Baby.” 

Obediently, Xiao shoots his thick and heavy load all over your lower body. For a moment the world around him seems out of focus and it makes him dizzy. He pants heavily and can’t catch his breath. He feels as if he was drowning. But then, your loving arms envelop him and he is safe again. You gently stroke his chest hugging him from behind. He melts in your embrace letting his head rest on your shoulder. His erratic heartbeat slowly going back to its usual rhythm.

„I think it looks pretty on you.”

„Hmm?” You want the boy to clarify what he meant.

„The chain... Looks pretty.”

„Oh.” 

Shakily, he reaches out to put your hand into his and he squeezes them together. 

„I’ll never let you lose yourself again, XIao. I love you and I will protect you forever.”

Xiao recognizes the familiar feeling of tightness in his chest. A single tear rolls down his cheek but he hurriedly wipes it before you can notice.

„Shut up.” The boy responds angrily and kisses you breathless. 

Other boys:

Albedo

Diluc

Kaeya

Childe

Zhongli

Kazuha

#xiao #xiao smut #xiao headcanons #xiao scenarios #xiao reader #xiao x reader #xiao you #xiao x you #xiao imagines #xiao drabbles #xiao genshin impact #genshin scenarios #genshin smut #genshin headcanons #genshin drabbles #genshin imagines