#but i mean if i have to fall for a man it better be him

[torialefay]

"Regardless of That Fucking Assignment..." 📝

professor!seungmin x fem!student!reader smut 🔞

✨ synopsis: you tried to be professional after being selected for a position under the hottest professor on your univeristy’s campus. turns out, the professor doesn’t give a fuck about “professional.”

✨ warnings: this piece, although consensual, does revolve around a morally grey area. this is strictly fictional work, and should only be considered as such. contains a lot of roleplaying that is not appropriate for everyday life. I do not condone any acts that are represented in this fic. this is strictly fictional work, and should only be considered as such. ; unprotected sex, semi-public sex, slight breath play

Dr. Kim was easily the hottest professor at your university. Young, handsome, and intelligent were the perfect recipe for quickly becoming your favorite classes to go to.

Thankful that he actually taught courses for your major, people outside of it would still sign up just to see him. Well, more like fawn over him, in hopes that he would somehow notice and fall for them, like the clichés they’d seen in movies. It was a bit annoying, considering you’d have to make sure to register early for his classes, but you didn’t mind as long as you got your spot. It made your performance in his class look better in comparison at least.

You’d always performed well in his classes, but you always felt a bit behind. You’d considered asking for his opinion on who would be best to go to for tutoring, but you didn’t want to get flustered in front of him. You surely didn’t want him to think you were struggling in his classes because it was hard to pay attention to anything but him… But ultimately, that was the truth.

Which is why you were very surprised one day to receive an email saying that you’d been selected for the fellowship you applied for… with Dr. Kim as the head.

“Hello, Dr. Kim,” you said nervously after knocking and peaking your head into his office.

He was relaxed, seated behind his large mahogany desk with a plaque on the front ordained with the inscription “Dr. Kim Seungmin.” He’d had a pen in one hand while holding his chin with the other, lost in thought.

“Ahh, y/n. Come on in and take a seat,” he smiled, lifting his head out of his hands and gingerly resting the pen onto the paper underneath it.

You shyly opened the door wider in front of you, just enough so that you could glide through and carefully close it.

Afterwards, you smoothed your skirt down around your thighs and crossed the short space of the room before seating yourself in one of the nice, leather-backed chairs that he had placed neatly in front of his desk.

“I’m glad you could meet with me on such short notice,” he said warmly, looking you in the eyes.

You couldn’t help but blush a little. Even if you’d had around a hundred lectures with him under your belt, it was nothing like the one-on-one conversation you were having now. Butterflies crept up into your stomach that you quickly tried to shoot back down. If you were going to work with this man on a fellowship project for the next year, you were going to have to learn to set those feelings aside… starting now.

“Yes, of course,” you said formally. “I’m very thankful and excited that I was chosen for this position. It really does mean a lot to me, so thank you for giving me this opportunity,” you smiled back, hiding any nerves that you may have had.

Dr. Kim chuckled a bit. “No need to thank me. You’re a great student. I’m always happy to see your work. You have a lot of great ideas, you know? I don’t say that many students challenge me to think about things in a different way, but you’re… different. Very different,” he smirked.

You automatically felt your face flush. ‘Surely this will get easier with time,’ you reassured yourself, taking a deep breath as nonchalantly as possible.

“Oh really?” you began, calming your voice. “I do get worried sometimes that maybe people could find my work a bit… unconventional?” you raised an eyebrow, trying not to falter.

“Good thing I’ve never been the conventional type,” he winked as he smiled, looking down directly after to grab the paper sitting next to him.

‘Did he? Did he just?…’ your mind began running. ‘Surely he didn’t mean it like… No, there’s no way. That’s just his personality. He’s witty. Of course he’d play around like that. He’s just cool, calm down.’ You tried your best not to let your internal freak out show on your exterior.

“So,” he started, looking back up to you, “give me your ideas. Obviously on your application, you threw out quite a few interesting ones. As long as I agree, we can work on whatever you’d like this year.”

“Hmm, well…” you began before running through your list of ideas with him. You had one proposal that you’d been fixated on, but it would require a lot of effort and attention, and you weren’t sure about the logistics of it working out. It would required a lot of time from the professor as well, so you’d almost nixed it altogether. Something about it just kept coming back though, you you figured you’d at least mention it along with the plethora of other ideas that had been rattling around.

“Woah, woah- stop right there,” Dr. Kim put his hands out, preventing you from continuing on to another point. “That’s really good,” he nodded his head. “I’ve read up on so much, paper after paper. But no one’s ever done that before.” He sucked in his cheeks as he continued to lightly nod and fixate his eyes off into the distance. “That’s smart… that’s really really smart.” He smiled, bringing his eyes back to yours now. “I knew I chose the right one. You're really impressive."

"Ohh no," you said, blushing with a smile as you waved your hand in disagreeance.

"What, you don't think so?" He teased, leaned back in his seat. "Why's that?"

"I'm just really interested in it is all. It's not that I'm special."

"Ahh," he nodded, understanding. "Well, I disagree. I noticed you the very first class. I even remember what you were wearing."

The sudden comment had you taken aback. "Really?" you asked, wide-eyed.

"Of course. You're quite memorable."

Your heart kept speeding up in your chest. 'Calm down. Calm down.'

"Come on, Dr. Kim, you don't need to say all that," you tried to play it off. "I appreciate building my confidence up, but I will always try to work harder," you finished with a solid nod.

He stilled for a moment as if contemplating his words. "Oh really? Work harder?"

“Well… of course?” your voice carried up, confused on why that was such a notable statement. “I could always be doing better in your class.”

Dr. Kim nodded. “Mmm, I guess that’s true. Tell me, y/n, whose class is your favorite? You can be honest with me. I’m just curious to know.” He cocked a brow.

“Hmm…” your eyes darted up as you began to think. “I’m not saying this to be facetious, but I really *do enjoy coming to your lectures. Dr. Pramal’s lectures have been very good recently as well.

He giggled. “Dr. Pramal? Come onnn, he basically wear a toupee. My classes have to be at least a little more fun than his.”

“I don’t know,” you smiled, “He tells a lot of dad jokes. He may give you a run for your money.” You raised your brows are his daringly.

“Ahh, okay. Dad jokes. I’ll have to remember that. That’ll get me some brownie points then huh?”

“It just might,” you shrugged. “I think the class would really enjoy it.”

A smug smirk came over his face. “I didn’t mean brownie points with the class. I meant brownie points with you.”

“Ohh,” you blushed, looking down. There was no way, you thought, that he meant the words the way that they were coming across. But it did fluster you anyways. “But I guess… haha yeah, I guess maybe that’d put you ahead of Dr. Pramal… maybe.”

Lighthearted. This was the way to go, you thought.

“Playing hard to get… I see how it is,” he grinned ear to ear.

“Hey, we’ve gotta see how good those jokes are first!”

“Alright, fair enough. I’ll get some good ones prepared for next time. Just for you.”

At that moment, there was no denying it anymore. There was no way, unless he was absolutely toying with you, that he’d be making all of these advances without realizing. You were sure he knew that almost every person was crushing on him, so you weren’t sure if he was just trying to play around, but either way, you knew that if you had been standing, your knees would have already buckled and given in. There was no going back now.

“Well,” you began, “since I shared my opinion, I think it’s only fair for you to tell me which classes are your favorites to teach?” You felt bolder now. More confident.

“Hmm… I wouldn’t say that I have any one favorite. They all have their pros and cons… but right now,” he tapped his pen on the table, “maybe I prefer the ones that you’re in. It always makes my day a bit better, but the classes go by so quickly.”

“So you decided giving me this position would be a good solution?” You giggled, leaning into the fantasy unfolding in front you.

“Absolutely not,” he stood with a smirk, gingerly beginning to walk behind where you were seated. “Excuse the language, but you’re fucking brilliant. It’s why I was so drawn to you... Having you on was a unanimous decision by the board.” He leaned down behind you until he was hovering just next to your ear. “But this…” he breathed out. “This is just a bonus.”

He took one hand to gently brush your hair over the opposite shoulder, making sure the area beneath him was open and exposed. He slowly let his fingers trail along your back until they rested on your shoulder, only for a split second, before sneaking lightly to trace along the lines of your collar bone. You could hear deep breaths coming from his throat.

“Tell me you don’t want it, and I’ll stop…” he whispered lowly.

Your head clouded. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine any of this. You wanted this, didn’t you? Yes, you wanted this.

But how would it affect your future? What if someone found out?

His hot breath hitting your ear drowned out any hesitancy you could have had. ‘Fuck it.’

“Don’t stop,” you whispered back, feeling shy, but excitement leaking out of you nonetheless.

He slowly let his lips find their way to your shoulder, planting the lightest kiss you’d ever felt, as if he was testing out the waters. As you began to get chills, he slowly began trailing kisses across your collarbone and to your neck, taking time there so gently suck. Nothing too crazy. Nothing too harsh. He wanted no evidence left behind. No emotions involved.

And that is exactly what you believed. Before he leaned in to kiss you.

His arm reached to rotate your shoulders towards him as he brought his lips to yours. The passion he poured in was immaculate. Like he’d been hungry for weeks. He tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth, asking permission to go even deeper.

Without breaking the kiss, the walked around to the front of the chair, holding your head steady for him the entire way. Once he reached his destination, you let his tongue find its way into your mouth. He started with light circles around your own until he was quickly moaning into you. The desperate sounds leaving his mouth had you echoing, making you squirm even more.

You could feel yourself growing more and more wet with each second. Swallowing in every last moment, you basked in the bliss of it all, but you couldn’t help but to want more.

He smiled as he realized how worked up you were getting. Resting one hand on your cheek and the other around to the small of your back, he guided you up until you were standing.

He slowly waltzed you around, never breaking the contact with your mouth. As the moans grew heavier and heavier, you slowly began to push yourself up and onto his leg, needing any sort of friction possible.

He took that as his cue to extend his thigh out for you, running his hands down to hold your ass before rubbing it harshly.

You winced at the new pressure as you slowly began to push yourself up and down on his thigh, losing your breath at how good it felt.

The scene in front of him was quickly getting too much to handle. You knew from the growing hard on that you felt each time your leg hiked higher.

As he groaned loudly, he pulled his lips from yours and yanked your body into his, separating any centimeter of space that could have existed.

You let out a low whine in response as his lips went back to your neck, nibbling away as you fucked yourself onto him. His fingers burrowed into your hair as he went, encouraging you to go faster.

You reveled in the way your clit was engorged now, making sure to hit just high enough with every thrust. And as he began to pant more heavily, Dr. Kim moved his thigh up and down for you, adding to the intensity that you felt.

“Oh fuckkkk,” you let out when things were getting too much to bear.

The sweet sounds coming out of you were too much for him. Abruptly, he pulled his lips from your neck, taking hold of your head to bring it eye level with his. He stared into you like he now owned you. “You can’t tell anyone about this. Promise me,” he demanded, rutting his leg up into you, forcing you to take it as he watched..

“I promise,” you breathed out, grappling to his chest as your eyes rolled back, about to reach your high.

“Feels that good?” He chuckled, planting a harsh smack to your ass.

“Oh fuck,” you winced, loving the roughness he was giving you. Your face flew into his chest. “It feels so fucking good. Harder… please.”

“Harder?” His voice was raised now.

In any normal situation, you would have been worried that someone would hear. But in this moment, you couldn’t have given a fuck if you tried.

Another smack left you dripping through your panties. “Fu-u-u-ck,” you cried. You knew you wouldn’t last much longer. You held onto him tightly as the knot in your stomach formed. “Keep going, keep going,” you whimpered out, chasing your release.

You heard him grunt as he began thrusting harshly, as quickly as he could, into your cunt. Although you couldn’t see his face, you knew he was enjoying every last second.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” you let out lowly as your clit throbbed in just the right way. The warmth got to be too much. The thrusts were too much, and suddenly, you lost it.

Flailing out all over him, you tried your best to cling on and ride out your high. The sexual tension that had been pent up for so long had finally spilled out- hard. You began shaking and crying out into him, not caring if you were too loud now or if anyone heard.

Once it was beginning to be too much, you pulled off, shaking and pushing him back. You were sure you couldn’t take one more second without passing out.

He took the opportunity of being separated from you to make the few strides toward his door to lock it. You couldn’t believe that you’d completely disregarded that once you’d been caught up in the moment.

Catching your breath, you turned around to grip onto his desk, holding yourself up with your arms. You were able to get a few deep breaths in until the professor returned behind you, pulling your ass toward him.

“Fuck,” he smiled, gripping your hips and squeezing, letting your ass push against his clothed dick. “That was so fucking beautiful.”

All you could do was moan in response, rolling your hips around. Although your heart had had a few seconds to calm down, you could feel it speeding right back up.

As he massaged you with his hands, he continued letting his thoughts turn into words. “Now I want to know how beautiful you’d look on my dick. Getting fucked right into this desk. Will you let me?” His hands ran up and down between your hips and your ass, rubbing you lightly. Almost as if he was… cherishing you?

“Mmhmm,” was all you could get out, still trying to fully recover.

“I need to hear you say it,” he barked back. “I need to hear you say yes. Say that you want this.”

“Yes, Dr. Kim,” you breathed out as harshly as you could, your response landing you another smack on the ass as he brought his hand to the back of your head to push it onto the desk and have you perfectly bent over for him.

He wasted no time, undoing his belt and letting his trousers fall to the ground, quickly pulling his cock out from his boxers to let it spring up and hit him.

He hastily threw the bottom of your skirt over your ass to reveal your panties underneath, completely soaked in the middle from the time you’d just had.

“Goddamn,” he chuckled. “All of this for me?” He rubbed his thumb up and down your slit, causing you to wince, before ripping your panties to the side. It caused them to partially rip, not that you minded. “Even prettier than I could have imagined,” he said, licking his lips and staring down at your pussy. “Fuck.”

He took one hand from you long enough to spit in it and bring it down to stroke his hardened cock. He moaned the slightest bit, touching himself while thinking of what was to come.

Using one hand to hold you down and the other to steady as he lined himself up at your entrance, he pushed in slowly, letting himself enjoy the feeling of your pussy stretching around him. He savored every last centimeter that he could get inside of you before bottoming out. A large breath escaped his lungs as he tried to stabilize himself. It was all too much of a sight to behold.

Pushing you into the table harder, he inched his way out before thrusting back in, trying to warm you up to him.

You couldn’t deny how delicious it felt. He was bigger than you were used to, and the way he had you pressed down was taking your breath away. You tingled head to toe from the sensation. It was better than anything you could have dreamed up in class- a few thrusts of his dick inside of you, and you could already confirm.

He picked up his speed inside of you as you let out a whimper, already feeling like you’d taken much more than he could give.

He railed into you relentlessly, letting out gutteral grunts and moans with each snap of his hips into yours. The sounds of it were lewd, but it only added to how you felt.

“Ahh fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he growled lowly, trying to focus enough so that he wouldn’t cum right away. “You’re taking it so fucking well.” He moved a hand up to your hair to form a pony tail that he could pull back on. “Don’t you think so?” he yelled, pulling your hair slightly back.

Surprised, you yelped, which only turned him on more. “Yes, Dr. Kim,” you managed to get out between shallow breaths. You didn’t know how much more you could take.

“You like it when your professor fucks you, don’t you? You always wanted to be used by me, huh?” he teased, thrusting into you even faster, tighter hold on your hair.

“Yes- yes, I love it,” you strained.

Something in him must have ticked because before you could process what was happening, you had been pulled up by your hair so that your back was arched, torso now fully upright. The professor now had a hold on your hair, but all the way around your waist as well to hold you up.

You felt yourself choke on your own throat from how far back your head had been tilted. The iron grab you felt from him behind you hinted that this would be something you’d have to get used to. He chuckled as you gasped for air, beginning to pound into you harder.

He admired the way you looked for him. Perfect ass slapping against him at every thrust. Your body contorted in the most unnatural shape, just because he willed it. Your face red from the blood rushing around. So perfectly behaved for him. Letting him do whatever he wanted. So willing to give it all up. He couldn’t fucking stand it anymore.

Relentlessly he growled, fucking into you harder than he had before. He could feel the sweat seeping from his brow, but it didn’t hinder him. All that mattered in this moment was using you until he couldn’t stand anymore. Each thrust into your tight pussy brought him closer and closer.

It was the hardest you’d ever been fucked. You were past the point of return. After moaning harder than you’d ever thought possible, you were officially fucked out. He kept hitting the same perfect spot over and over until all you could do was cry out and gasp for air. No thoughts anymore, just needing that second wave of relief. You clenched around him as you tried for a deep breath, quickly working your way there.

“Ahh shit,” he hissed as he felt you- pure, unadulterated, untamable lust now clouded his eyes. Something different had come over him now. He was no longer your professor. No. Now… his one purpose in life was to fuck you senseless.

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve wanted to do this?” he spat at you, yanking your head back even harder so he could get a clear look into those pretty eyes while he rammed into you. “How many times I’ve wanted to stop in the middle of class to just bend you over and take you?! I’ve contemplated so many times if I should hold you back after class so I could talk to you. Get you to put those pretty lips on mine, ah?” He was aggressive, almost yelling out of his mind through gritted teeth. "I’ve wanted you from the very first day I fucking saw you. Last year. An entire fucking year of acting good,” a harsh pound into you, “and acting professional,” pound, “around you," pound. "But goddamn it, I just can’t do it anymore! You drive me fucking crazy, y/n! You drive me so fucking crazy!” He yelled forcefully, quickly releasing his grip on you so that you fell forward onto the table.

Your lungs sucked in as much air as possible as you had a momentary sense of relief. But within a few seconds, Dr. Kim was reaching with his hand to rotate your head around to the side, right next to his own as he’d bent himself over your body, still fucking into you with all the strength he had.

“I’ve got to fucking have you,” his voice rumbled lowly, looking into your eyes. The words alone made your pussy quiver.

'Fuck. There's no fucking way. Does he mean?...' You were sure you were going to cum any second.

“Tell me I can have you… Fucking hell, tell me I can have you,” he growled, watching you desperately. Hungrily.

You closed your eyes as they slightly rolled back in your head. “Yes… Fuckkk, yes, you can have me,” you moaned out as his thrusts became too much for you to handle.

He violently crashed his lips into yours as if he’d been starving for them this whole time- like he'd been saving his appetite for this very moment. He ate at you like you were the most delicious thing he would ever taste.

And with the perfect thrust, you felt it. The feeling that had been creeping up for so long, exploded now, leaving you in complete shambles. Cursing, moaning, throwing yourself all around, you just couldn’t control yourself any more. You tried pulling yourself back, but his mouth kept you anchored to him, resulting in you throwing all of your groans into his mouth.

You didn’t know how it couldn’t be over, but he growled as he finished fucking into you, the wet sounds of your release only adding to his pleasure. You were getting overstimulated to the point that you were sure you were going to cry.

“Ahhh,” you wailed, not able to handle it any more.

“Oh fuck, baby, fuck!” he yelled, throwing a few final, violent, thrusts into you before pulling out. He continued to moan harshly as he pumped himself in his hand, letting his cum spurt out all over your ass, covering it almost completely. He stroked it until there wasn’t a single drop left inside of him.

'Baby?' you thought, contemplating if you'd misheard him.

Once he was sure he was finished, he breathed in and out deeply, trying to catch his breath while grabbing for a few tissues on his desk. He used them to lightly clean you up while you too were still bent over, struggling to get your breath back.

As soon as you heard his pants come up and zip, you were sure he was done. You slowly used your hands to push yourself up and off the table. Your muscles twitched as you went, absolutely exhausted. You didn’t know if you’d even be able to stand on your own, let alone make it back to the dorm.

You were slow as you turned, flattening your skirt down and trying to get your footing, but failing.

“Woah, woah, take it easy,” Dr. Kim smiled happily, knowing he was the one that had done this to you. He reached his hands out for you to hold so that you could get your balance.

“Yeah, thanks,” you said, blushing while nodding downward to acknowledge his help.

You both stood for a moment, absorbing the scenery and what had actually just happened. You almost couldn’t believe it.

As if it finally registered, you were suddenly uncertain of what to do next. You ran a hand through your hair before crossing your arms over your chest. You wanted to act like you weren’t nervous, but you knew that you were failing miserably.

“Well, I should probably head out then,” you tried to play off as light-hearted, moving your body out of his way and toward the door. You couldn’t believe you were about to have to do the walk of shame… at fucking school.

“You don’t have to-” Dr. Kim started, almost too eagerly, “you don’t have to go…” he calmed himself. “If you don’t want to. If you need time to, umm.” You’d never seen him be at a loss for words like this. “Get collected and everything.”

His eyes were softer than you’d remembered. For once, he didn’t look intimidating. He looked almost… sweet?

But none of that changed the fact that you had just fucked your professor and needed to go clear your head.

“Oh,” you smiled, trying to look grateful. “I appreciate it, but I think I’m alright. I should probably go finish up on an assignment I’ve been working on for your class actually. But really, thank you,” you said, bowing your head in gratitude, about to reach for the door handle.

“Wait,” he insisted, moving closer to you. “I just wanted to say that I really did mean all the things I said about you. Regardless of whatever this was, you are so fucking brilliant. I don’t want you to think that this is why I wanted you for the position. I hope that you’ll stay on… and that we can actually work together.” You thought you could make out a plea in his tone.

“Of course I’ll stay on, Dr. Kim. I’m excited to work with you,” you smiled, realizing now that you had some kind of upper hand.

He smiled back as he took a few steps backward, letting you turn to reach for the door once more.

“Please, call me Seungmin… Except in class of course,” he winked with a chuckle as he moseyed back behind his desk.

“Alright then, Seungmin,” you annunciated teasingly, smiling at him with big, innocent eyes. “I need to get to work on that assignment, but I’ll email you later so we can find a meeting time that works for us both?"

Seungmin just rolled his eyes with an annoyed grin. “You’re getting an A, regardless of that fucking assignment. And please... just give me your number instead.”

#seungmin smut #kim seungmin #kim seungmin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz seungmin #seungmin imagines #kim seungmim #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #seungmin x reader #seungmin x you #skz scenarios #skz x you #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids roleplay #skz requests

[saunne]

You Are A Weakness I Cannot Afford To Possess - Aventio/Ratiorine Snippet

[You are welcome to yell at me and demand monetary reparations to pay for your therapy because I'm not sorry]

Every risk was cautiously considered and weighed, every move carefully calculated. Obviously, emotions were something based on a much less stable basis than mathematical calculations but... 

Veritas Ratio was not blind. 

He wasn't a fool either, despite feeling like one at that very moment. 

“...What do you mean no ?” 

The man looked at him, a bittersweet smile on their thin lips, even as one of their poker chips twirled nimbly between their graceful fingers. 

"Before you ask a question, why don't you consider whether the answer has already been determined ?" Aventurine responded softly, their eyes drifting to gaze outside as they wearily parroted Veritas' own words. "It is better for everyone if such questions are not asked... Don't you think, my good Doctor ?" 

These words, Veritas uttered them regularly.  To his colleagues, his students, Enid, his superiors, strangers even. 

To be the recipient was... painful. 

Unexpected. 

"I don't understand," Veritas whispered, his voice hoarse and his throat tight. "You love me."

Every risk was cautiously considered and weighed, every move carefully calculated. Veritas Ratio would never have risked a move if he had not been absolutely certain that his feelings were returned.

And yet… And yet.

“I do,” Aventurine laughed airily. “Gaiathra help me, I do.”

The chip was strangely warm in Veritas' palm as his hand instinctively gripped around it, the smooth edges digging into his palm. Aventurine's hand was soft against his cheek, barely a caress, ghostly and fleeting presence. 

Their lips were soft and just slightly wet as they kissed him, for barely more than a heartbeat. The faint caress of their sigh as they retreated felt as icy as the incessant blizzards of this planet of eternal winters, to which Veritas had accompanied them only weeks earlier. 

Where he had warmed their frozen fingers between his. 

Where they shared laughter and kisses as light as the snowflakes that ended their fall in their pale eyelashes.

Where a cheerful “Why not, Veritas?” had met his cautious questioning, where only a silence heavy with lost words now met this same question, this "why" trembling with dashed hope.

"Because... All or Nothing only works because there is nothing left, Veritas. Nothing except myself, which is nothing in itself,” the Stoneheart confessed in a breath, in a plea that sounded more like a condemnation. “I can’t…”

They closed their eyes, taking a deep breath.

When they looked at him again, the heat of their gaze was not that of an inviting hearth, but that of a raging fire. 

A heat of desert wasteland bathed by a blind sun, of an age-old drought that a cataclysm would not be enough to repair. A heat made of prayers as numerous as the grains of sand of Sigonia-IV and as sticky as the blood that had stained it.

 “You are a weakness I cannot afford to possess, Veritas Ratio.”

A silence.

"And for what little it's worth, I'm truly sorry."

#hsr #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #hsr ratio #dr ratio #aventio #ratiorine #golden ratio #aventurine x dr ratio #hsr fanfic #snippet #will probably get a whole ass fic later #can't believe it's aventio angst who got me out of writing block #unneism #unnewrites

[glaciertea]

Masterlist here

Tales the Songs Weave

Notes: Miguel is having a bit of a comeuppance within the society.

CW: Morning sex, fingering, penetration, PinV

Chapter 15: You Let Me Fall First...

Word count: 6.3K

An alarm began to beep, rudely awakening you from your comforting dreams. Groaning out, you rolled over, only to groan even louder.

“Man, I am sore.” You snuggled up closer to him, locking your arms around a bit of his torso.

“Means I did a good job.”

He kissed your shoulder, and then the marks from his fangs lingered on it.

“Mm, is that going to be permanent?” 

“Depends. It's going to remain for a good several days, but I can make it permanent if that's what you prefer.”

His voice dropped, tightening his grasp on your waist, spinning you on your back, and squishing his body mass on yours.

“Miggy! Bleh! You're too heavy!”

Your head was buried in his chest, swatting anything your palms could. “Off! Off, I say!” 

Ceasing your attack when the rumbling from Miguel's laughter juddered your body, you flopped your hands down in defeat.

Taking in his scent, you closed your eyes. The cedarwood and the smell of your union attacked your nose as you drifted into the future.

Waking up to him every morning to him spooning you, or you spooning him, dallying in bed for an extended period, aware that work or household chores have to be done, yet you neither bother to budge.

Knowing that you're able to be by his side, engulfed in a warmth so prominent, you would never ask for anything again if it meant you got to be by him.

All you would want is to stay in that moment. At this point, at this instant, nothing would wedge you two. Nothing could break this or the future that will bestow.

“Mi Luna? You okay?” Miguel himself shifted off to give you some breathing space, until you shoved yourself back in-between his pecs, muffling.

“I can't hear you, mi corazón.”

“Why do you have better boobs?”

“Huh?” 

“Better boobs! They are just so mesmerizing! Impeccable!” You giggle at the pun causing him to groan out.

“I swear… but I don't know about that; I think yours are pretty amazing. If not better.” He hauled you up, eyes on yours.

Entrancing. That was one of the many words to describe whenever he admires those glistening eyes. He admired you, and for the first time in years, he faced sincere peace and authentic love. Dawning how much he pined and ached for this.

Knocking your forehead on his, you joyously grinned. “Let's say it's a tie, with you slightly closer.”

“Deal.” He grazed your lips with his.

You stayed that way for a minute. Your alarm goes from the irksome beeps to the relaxing notes of rhythm and blues. Dulcet breathing is shared between you.

“I have to get up for work.” 

Miguel gruffly scoffs, turning you both onto your sides and holding you more firmly.

“Miggy, don't you have work as well?”

“Si.”

“So we have to get up.”

“No. Let's stay here.”

“You know we can't, mi Estrella.”

Caressing his forearm, you slightly turned your neck to peek behind, and you were met with that endearing pout and baggy, pleading puppy dog eyes.

“Come on now; don't do that. You know I can't…”

They seemingly got bigger.

“Damn it, Miggy. Fifteen minutes, but that's it. If Ronnie finds out I'm late because of canoodling, she'll have your body as a display mannequin.”

“Now why am I the one going to be punished?” He smirked, lapping the base of your neck.

“Because she says you're a bad influence on me. And you know, maybe she's onto something.” 

“Aw, do you really believe that, corazón?” His tone is harsh and gravelly, yet he holds every bit of that sexy hold that you don't bother to escape.

"I—ah—I think you are. Fu-fuck, Miggy. You have too much- ah, too much ascendancy on me.”

His long fingers found their way in between your thighs as he glided his pointer and middle digits up and down your already dampened sex.

“Mm, I feel as though I don't have that much. But we both know I can strive to add a lot of… guidance on the matter.”

He teased your clit, gently tugging and pinching it, his finger barely pushing into your entrance, evoking a whimper.

“Wha- ah! What more could you want–fuck!" You cried out when Miguel gradually drove his sheathed finger into you.

“I'm a very selfish man, mi Luna.” He emphasized your nickname. “I will find a way to get what I want.”

He propelled in and out, spreading your legs to provide better access, and plunged another deep into you. Your walls cling as he brushes against your g-spot repeatedly.

A strangled cry broke free when he began to scissor. Your slick was dripping down, and the noises emanating from you overpowered the music.

“And from the way you're reacting, I think you like me being a bad influence on you.”

“Miggy!” You drawled out, fidgeting under his touch, ashamed of how you could crumble under his touch so easily.

His palm rubbed against the stiff nub, twisting with each push. His length was pressing against your inner thigh.

“Tan agradable y húmedo sólo para mí. Mi hermosa Luna haciendo esos sonidos solo para mi.” 

He frantically pumped, biting down on your neck and leaving fresh, new hickies. You rolled your hips with him, adding more stimulation. Throwing your head back, you covered your mouth to prevent any loud sounds from leaving.

“Luna mía, no los escondas. Hay ocasiones en las que quiero que otros escuchen quién te hace desmoronarse una y otra vez.”

He fingered you faster, his appendages working in a hasty motion, your muscles feeling every satisfying breach, juices smearing and coating his fingers with every stroke.

Slamming both hands over your lips, your head was in a full whirlwind of ecstasy.

“¡¿Qué dije?!” He barked, tugging his fingers out. “Let them hear you!” 

He grinded his cock against you before burying himself to the hilt, your wetness melding. His ragged breath sent sparks down your spine. Taking tantalizingly slow bucks, you sob out.

“Mm! Don't do this! Please, please, faster.” You tried to press down against him, only to have him grip and hold onto your waist.

“Will you scream?”

“I-I can't be lou- aah!" His clawed hand wrapped around the sides of your throat as your breathing picked up.

“Will. You. Scream?” He snarled, fairly squeezing.

“Ye-yes! I will!” You garbled out, hot tears streamed down, your vision foggy from the immense burning passion.

“Bien.” 

He thrust at an intense pace, your back dragging up and down his hard abs and chest as you wailed out.

His balls slap against your folds, adding more to the already noisy orchestra of thrills. The engorged tip strikes the top wall as you flutter around his length, feeling every vein and drive.

“Oh Miguel! So big! So good with your fat cock!”

His ego shot up. Gripping your neck tighter, your mind began to race.

He could easily snap you in two if he wanted; in a split second, you could be broken into nothing. How exposed you were. Yet he's so rough, but gentle, that he's holding back so much just to bring you these fleeting experiences.

And that aroused you further.

You shrieked his name, begging him to go faster, and Miguel happily obliged. He pulled out, briskly moving you into your stomach, shuffling around until he was behind. One leg planted on the ground, the other perched and bent up next to your leg. 

Propping you up until your ass was in the air and spreading your legs, Miguel grunted at the sight of the glistening streams of your shared fluids.

“Oh, mi Luna, I will devote and admire you and your body until the end of days. And even that wouldn't suffice for my needs and wants for you.”

He started to handle himself, pumping a few times, and began to slip back into your tight entrance. His hands massaged your back, sliding down until his talons groped your rear, making you whine out.

Sweaty and disheveled, you awaited in anticipation when he penetrated, filling and stretching you back up.

You sharply inhaled at the suddenness, shouting as Miguel rolled his pelvis into you, watching your behind bounce back whenever he rocked forward.

“Such a nice ass that only papi gets to see.”

“Miggy, you are so–fuck–so untamed!”

“That's right. Take it, mi Luna, take it all.”

Clenching onto the sheets as tight as your heat, the bed lurched against the barrier, embarrassed at how you would have to really apologize to your next-door neighbors now.

Pushing you down even further, he found the right spot that had you screaming your head off. Your heart pulsed, your brain was heavy, and your body was flaming hot.

Your eyes rolled in the back of your skull, your tongue flopping out as saliva ran down your chin and onto the pillow. Miguel strummed your stomach, hips, and thighs, stopping right over your clit and stroking it with figure eights.

“I love hearing you scream; everything about you is so good, mi corazón.”

“You're so wonderful to me–Mmm! Fuck, fuck! Right there!”

The tandem syncing of each push drove you two delirious. Your words were incoherent, with every slap and squish holding that daze deep in them.

He was drunk on you. Drunk for it all. The pooling from the sweat and your slick as he smelt your heady release was edging its way up.

You eyed the clock and internally winced. Your little rendezvous spilled into overtime. Ronnie would survive.

“Close! I'm close—mi Estrella! Cum in me! Fill me up! Give me every drop!”

Miguel moaned out, the fuse ready to explode from your needy cries. Digging into your hips, he sank in as much as possible, nearly slipping out from his violent thrusts and your drenching cunt.

“Take–take it. So tight for papi, so good; such a good girl, mi Luna.”

His mind floated back to his kids. A vivid scene of them jumping on the bed, wanting you two to wake up and make cinnamon waffles for breakfast, as you try to scold them but end up laughing at the silly situation. 

You'll turn and kiss him, rolling out of bed to put your house slippers on, as he’ll carry the little ones as they crawl and swing all over his body.

“Mmmph!” 

Miguel spilled out and bent forward. You felt his hefty chest on your back, convulsing madly and milking nearly every spurt and every drip. There was so much shooting deep in your core.

You whimpered as a certain set of fangs found their way back into your neck. Miguel held you securely when realization snuck up on him.

“Fuck. Luna, mi Luna, corazón, stay awake. I didn't mean to bite. Mierda, shit, shit.” 

He pulled himself off you, shoving some of the stray strands of ejaculation back into your opening, satisfied with the result. Flopping you on your back, he stared at the stickiness of your body and your glossy, fulfilled eyes.

Leaving the room before coming back, he began to dab you with a clean, damp towel, sheepishly grinning at his interim paralyzed partner.

“Call… Ronnie… gonna… late…”

“Do you think I'll look good as a mannequin?”

A shiver of a curved smile appeared on your numb face before Miguel kissed you tenderly.

He did get an earful from Ronnie, nagging and demanding to know what he did to ‘her girl,’ and how she was going to stuff him to be a display dummy. Luckily, Ronnie had a severe hangover and had a special guest over, so the shop was closed for the day.

Taking advantage of that, he assisted you in striving to reduce the immobilization timeframe. While ordering breakfast and cuddling you, you eventually regained your voice and chatted about everything and nothing at the same time while awaiting the meal.

“You know, I was wondering why I didn’t scream; you caught me before it could come out. And my poor neighbors. I hope they’re cool like the downstairs one.”

“What was that thing they told you?” Miguel scratched feather-light touches with his claws along your back.

“That you were stirring my meals all in one pot.”

“I still don’t understand what the hell that means.” 

Stifling your giggles, you exhaled a content sigh. “Also, thank you for calling Ronnie. Sorry she cursed you out like that.”

“I’m used to her diablerie behavior by now; she is basically your version of Peter. And speaking of Peter, you met him the other day? I'm surprised you didn’t tell me that.”

“Oh yeah! That was an hour of… irrefutable absurdity. I was tempted to call you and beg you to come over, but I held my own.”

Miguel rearranged the positions so you were eye level with him, interested in hearing your side. 

“What all happened? What all did you talk about? Peter didn’t harass you, did he?” He glowered his eyes, nearly awakening a new wave of desire from you.

“N-no. He was fine. Though a bit overzealous, he was very sweet. And that Mayday is such a sweetheart, but you can definitely tell that she is his daughter.”

“Did you show her around?”

“I did. We played with some of the toys and read some pop-up books together. We had a grand time.”

A quiver of a smile nearly glinted on him. “I would’ve come by, you know.”

“I know, just didn’t want you to experience Ronnie and Peter under one roof yet. I was the guinea pig for us. And it went entirely as we expected. It was a R-rated Ronnie and PG-Peter story; one was more brash and the other modest. But one day you will succumb to the eccentric extravaganza.” 

You simultaneously grimace at the thought of all four in the same room.

“I also heard you talked about me.”

“Of course, why would I not? You are amazing and deserve to be gushed about. Even though I have moments of me being a bit selfish and wanting to hog you all for myself, I know that at the end of the day, I’m yours and you’re mine, and that I will always get to be around you. Well, not always around, but you know what I mean. But yes, I do want to shout from the rooftops and yell, ‘hey! That’s my handsome Renaissance marble sculpture on the runway lover. Let me give a bazillion reasons why he’s the best!’”

His pulse raced, and his cheeks crimson like his eyes. The compliments and unfeigned love from you still shocked and bemused him after all this time. You never saw him as this tainted figure; you accepted his flaws and the mistakes that he wanted to better and mend with open arms and patience. And you didn't uphold any ridiculous standards or expectations for him.

Thud.

He dropped his forehead down for that welcoming sign you both knew, and pushed his lips into yours. He was hungry and ardent for you. He would devote his time to you at the drop of a hat, and he wouldn't let anything or nothing hold him back from it.

“Me traes muchas cosas que pensé que nunca podría volver a sentir.” 

“I love you too, Miggy.”

Interrupted by a buzz from the doorbell, Miguel scowled and stumbled out of bed, ready to tear apart whoever was at the door. After inadvertently frightening the delivery person, Miguel helped you sit up against some pillows and mostly fed you.

“Hey.”

“Yes?” He held up a fork of eggs and brought them to your mouth.

“How is–this is yummy–how is Jess doing with her pregnancy? How far along is she?” You swallowed and opened up for another bite.

“Jess? Well, she's okay. She's going pretty smoothly, I think.” Miguel picked up his toast and chomped down on it before turning back to you.

“It's okay to say you don't know, Miggy.”

“I don't know. Is that a bad thing?”

“I wouldn't necessarily say bad, but they are still your workers who have feelings and probably suffer copious amounts of pain. It'll be good to check in on her. Especially if she's working so hard, it could be taking a toll on her.” 

“But she's a spider; she can handle it.” He took a sip of your orange juice before leaning toward you.

“Thank you. And not exactly the external aspects; I'm sure she is a strong woman, but the internal ones as well.”

Trying to lift your arm to point at your brain, it promptly plopped back down. “Gosh, your venom is strong. Back to the matter at hand. Pregnancy is a tough thing. Well, I wouldn't know, but I've read the stories. You're carrying another being in you, creating a new life. A baby deriving one's energy is a lot to handle.”

Another bite. “So simply see how she's doing in general, deal?”

He smiled and munched the rest of his bacon. “Deal, mi corazón. Also, I see you eyeing my potatoes. I'll give you some in exchange for your strawberries.”

“You know, potatoes aren't even that delicious. They're the weakest of all the vegetables.”

“¡Oye! Weak?! You know, I take offense to that. You're making my ancestors weep.” 

“Ah yes, I don't want to upset the potato ghosts, do I now?” Your voice was innocent, but the outspread grin was crafty.

“How very stereotypical of you. For that, you will be disciplined.” He plucked one of your strawberries up and ate it, leaves and all.

A rasping stutter of squeaks and other noises came out of you, causing you to full-stop at the sounds you somehow managed to produce. Staring at one another, Miguel began to choke on the fruit as uncontrollable howls of laughter escaped.

“Oh my God! I can't even hide! This is clearly the worst punishment. The worst timeline!”

You bickered frivolously as Miguel gave in and fed you some of his potatoes, much to his amusement.

With the sliver of sunshine on your bed, dust particles suspended in the golden pigment, the soft melodies from the alarm clock, and your beaming smile and snickers, Miguel completely forgot about his straining life. His taxing “job.”

You were really good at doing that.

He thought about how he'd be prepared to trade nearly everything to preserve these moments with you forevermore. And it wasn't the first time these convictions came to light.

“Miguel… Miguel, where are you? We need—hey. Hey! Be careful with that! I said, be careful! He'll kill us if it's- Miguel! We need you here at the headquarters. We caught two Electros, and they are trying to mirror each other's attacks, but they're messing with th- put it down! Hey, hey, no! Miguel, please hurry!”

His watch blared from the floor. He forgot that he threw it off last night in the heat of the moment, but he didn't turn it off.

“Tienes que estar bromeando, ¿por qué estos idiotas no pueden hacer nada?” He sneered before tidying up the area.

“I'm assuming it's a big danger?”

“Doubtfully. They're sadly too incompetent to get anything done for themselves.”

“Hey, there are some days we need extra help. I mean, you literally had to feed me.” You gave a lopsided smile.

“Yes, but there's a difference. I don't mind doing that. In fact, I would do that all day, every day.”

“So you'd rather shove spoonfuls of eggs down my throat forever than fight electric people?”

“That's exactly right. Especially shoving more than eggs down your throat.” He winked, gathering up his underwear.

“Hey! No! Stop that!” You were flustered by the accidental innuendo you made and his cocky response.

“You brought that upon yourself, mi corazón.”

You blew a raspberry at him and tried to cross your arms, but to no avail. He smirked, grabbing his devices as his suit began to materialize. Your eyes glanced down as the digital outfit hugged his general buttocks area nicely.

“Even got a better ass; now how is that fair?”

“I heard that.” He perched himself on the edge of the bed and stroked your face.

“Good.” You puckered out your lips as he inclined inward, giving you a sweet kiss.

“How did I get you? Me of all people.”

“Simply by being you and this handsome Renaissance marble sculpture on the runway, but mostly you.”

Those genuinely compassionate eyes had him in that trance. If given the opportunity to become trapped in them, he would purposely avoid the exits.

“Do you want your shirt back?”

“No, leave it on. I don't want mi Luna to get cold.”

“It's almost summer.”

“Right. You justifiably look cute in it, and I now have a newfound obsession with seeing you in my formal clothes.”

“Leave your clothes; I'll wash them. I may even be wearing that blazer when you come back. Just the blazer.” Your eyes were heavily hooded at the thought.

“Don't tempt me, mi Luna.” He tilted your head back and growled down your neck, obtaining a hushed moan.

"Ah- ye-yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He simpered, appearing pleased at the response.

He settled you back in bed, making sure you were comfortable. Ready to doze off, you quickly halted him before he climbed out the window.

“Miggy?”

“Si, mi Luna?” He phased his mask on and turned back to you.

“Do you have a thing for Peter? I'm validly curious; I wouldn't even be mad. So is it on the down low or…”

You blink as he narrows his eyes. You couldn't exactly see them, but his mask did it for him.

“Ay dios mío. You're lucky I find you wonderfully beautiful and amazing.”

“I love you too!” You yelled out with the last bit of strength and fell right to sleep.

Miguel shook his head at your ridiculous Peter comment, flinging himself around his city. If you were going to start joking about that, he wouldn't mind. He imagined him chasing after you as you teased him, wiggling your cute bottom and sticking your tongue out, taunting that he couldn't catch you.

He'd take that challenge, catching you off guard with his speed, and begin to mercilessly tickle you. Your shrieking laughter will fill the room until you'll cry out for mercy before catching him off balance, attacking him into submission, rolling around, and play-fighting before one thing may lead to another.

He never wants this to end.

Down goes a string.

The arrival of summer was a welcoming one this year. The leaves are now a richer green, the air is heating up, and above all, the skies have been fair.

You decided to take advantage of this day and scroll down to a certain park, especially since you got an extra thirty minutes added to your usual hour break.

“I wonder if it'll be crowded. I hope not. School should still be in session for the next couple of weeks or so.”

Arriving at the spot, there were a few picnickers, joggers, and a couple of teens probably skipping classes.

“Well, I'll have to make do. I can't have this lovely day all to myself.”

Scoping out for a place to lounge, you caught wind of a certain person in everyday wear, whose head was thrown back, body stiffer than a metal pole, likely due to the quantity of people, and seemed more tired than usual, despite the shades disguising his eyes.

Bounding your way over, you made sure to stand a few inches aside to not be caught immediately.

“Is this seat taken?” You shrouded your voice, trying to bring it down as deeply as possible.

“¡Ay dios mío! ¡Sí, este asiento está ocupado! ¡No! I'm not interested in-”

Miguel frustratingly snapped himself up, ready to tell off whoever was harassing him this time, when he caught himself.

“Luna? Mi Luna!” His strident tone instantly dropped as a zealous perk drifted out instead. “What are you doing here? I thought you were working around this time.”

Wriggling yourself next to him, you took up any room, sitting arm to arm. “Usually, but Ronnie allowed me to take my break early today and gave me extra time, so I decided to use it wisely. And boy, did I use it well or what?” 

“Or what?” He smirked and gruffly chuckled, receiving an eye roll and a jab from your elbow.

“Haha, so funny. I'm shocked to see you out here. From the way you flared up and nearly barked at me, I'm assuming others have been taking an interest?” You roamed over potential scouters who made an effort to play their hand with him.

“No creerías la cantidad de personas que no aceptan un no por respuesta. Es increíble, si te digo que no me interesa, déjalo pasar, ¡¿por qué los idiotas insisten en ir más lejos?!” He spouted out so fast that you got lost in a vortex.

“One of these days I will learn all of that. Mark my words. Mark it!” Your finger aimed at the sky in determination.

“Ay, sorry, mi Luna. And yes, you will. I just don't understand why people can't leave me alone! Why must they persist in any sort of advancement? And it's worse when I tell them I'm taken and they still try.” He jeered out, nearly grating the bench.

It was difficult for him. There were even points where some would try and hit on him when you were right there. They were very seldom, but when they happened, it was never fun. Miguel would shut it down, but in the most Miguel way possible. His towering stature and that unnerving presence he seemingly always has.

And it really shows when someone tries anything with you. He's a formidable person, but it seemingly ramps up to the point of no return.

Nonetheless, you could imagine how much worse it must be when he's by himself.

“They probably have this idea that you're saying that just to say it. The ‘well, I don't see them here,’ thought. Or some genuinely don't understand.”

“More likely the latter.” His snarkiness jumped out at no one in particular. “Tengo momentos en los que quiero darles un espectáculo. Inclínate y-”

Your eyes flickered to his face, cocking your head to the side.

“Nevermind. Ranting at this point.”

“Alright, what's going on, mi Estrella? You gave yourself a sporadic moment to recuperate, so something is bothering you, somebody made you upset, or the mixture.” You swirled yourself so one of your legs was on the wooden seat and the other swayed, your attention all on him.

You've been able to pluck up details about him effortlessly over time. With his usual stoic attire, many have a strenuous time depicting what exactly could be wrong with him, to the point that they eventually give up. Yet he allows his barricade of stoniness to partially crumble around you, so you don't face as much strain from getting a reading as much. He doesn’t feel the need to only sanction his two main emotions, stern and militant, toward you; he can express a handful with zero inconvenience.

And he plans on leaving it that way.

“Jess’s little rookie. She's been testing my patience as of late. Very, very thin ice she's been skating on. Les dices una cosa, pero siguen insistiendo, siguen intentando insistir en un punto que no se tendrá en cuenta, pero persisten.”

His knee hastily jittered, nerves and aggravation coursing through his veins and blood. All over. Your hand hovered over it and waited for the signal. It took him a minute to pacify and decrease the jerkiness, but he felt that hand massaging his joint.

“The ghost teen, right? What has she been doing exactly?” You spoke in that serene way that soothed him temporarily.

“She’s been wanting to see this ‘friend’ of hers. She’s been pestering me non-stop about it, but she knows she isn’t allowed, yet keeps fucking insisting!” He impaled his talons into the bench, overextending his very little patience from stripping any wood off it.

“Ah, yeah, teenagers don't take it kindly when third parties tell them who they can or can't hang out with.”

“But I gave her a reason! That should be enough, and I talked to her without yelling. So I don't understand!” 

“It can go a bit deeper. If she has a strong, established bond with this person, reasoning and logic can sometimes be thrown off the table. Yes, they may understand what you're saying and may see your point, but when emotions get involved, it can be a bit finicky.” 

You mindfully removed his claw from the seat and took the other, rubbing your thumbs over his knuckles.

“Take us, for example. If someone were to forcibly tell one of us to break it off, even with or without reason, would you do it?”

Miguel furrowed his heavy brows in deep thought. “Yes? No. Maybe? No. Yes? No. I don't know.”

“Mhm, there it is. You know the logic is still there, but it's on the floor, out of sight. The emotions are still on that table.”

His hidden eyes observed your gentle hands. “Would you?”

“No. Maybe? Well, honestly, no. It depends, but I'm pretty obstinate about what I care for. It takes a lot to dissuade me, but once I have that vice grasp, you'll need an entire brigade to move me.” 

Miguel smiled, but it faltered just as fast. “I don't know what to do. I had Jess try and discuss it with her, but that fell flat. I tried to listen, but she would try and pick an argument when I gave her the known causes. It's never good enough.” He didn't bother to mask his scathing crabbiness.

You licked your lips when an idea struck. “How about you have a compromise?”

“What?”

“Compromise with her. Maybe have someone watch over her, a parental figure or guardian, when she visits him.”

“What if she gets too engrossed when we need her? Or try to do something more?”

“Keep her preoccupied, so she isn't that distracted, even though she's a teen. Well, it can help her learn balance in a way. Maybe have her sweep the area; uh, are they from the same universe?”

He shook his head.

“Well, tell her to keep an eye out for suspicious activities and document tabs to immediately give to you. She could still see him and be kept busy as well. Also, like with any teen, give her a curfew. She can dwindle and hang, but not for too long.” 

The cognitive gears in Miguel's mind began to bustle and turn. “I could—I think I can work with that.” 

You watched the inquisitive thinking process take over before he feverishly nodded his head. “Yeah, I can do something like that. I can work something around it. Are you sure you aren't a spider with that beautiful, smart brain of yours?”

He swamped you in a strong embrace. A sign of affection and a sign to make sure others stay the hell away from you two.

“Miggy! Nooo. I try to see what can fairly work, if it could work, and hope that it makes sense.”

“Well, whatever it is, don't get rid of it.”

“That's the plan. And also, you're conflicted about wanting to keep me around?” You mischievously hummed out, nestling your head in his chest.

“No, no, I'm stubborn. And even if I were to say yes, I'd still find a way back to you. You have this magnetic hold that if I were to pull away, I would come flying back right to you.”

“Now that's very sound and reassuring. And I'd say you're more iron-willed. You don't back down at all.” You smiled so largely that it seemed as if your mouth took up most of your face.

“I certainly don't. Well, maybe there's an expectation.” He stroked your hair, scratching and massaging your scalp.

“And what's that?”

“I wouldn't mind giving in for you. You, the commander, and me, the lowly, humble subordinate. Whenever you tell me to jump, I'll question it at first, then immediately do it mid-sentence. Tell me to rollover; I may. Tell me on my knees… you know, I wouldn't mind that one at all.”

Blowing a raspberry, you covered your face from the sheer implications. “Oh my gosh, Miggy. I swear you are so indecorous, I wouldn't know what to do with you!”

“I can think of many things.” He pinched your inner thigh, making you yelp and playfully chastise him as a few shifty and nosy eyes cast their way towards you two.

You wasted some time mindlessly rambling back and forth about how the day has been treating you two, from people to unremarkable tasks. The normality that he adores so much. Eventually, you both had to get back to your respective jobs. To Miguel, it was his penitentiary. He posed innocence, asking if he could take you back to your job, but you insisted that he go back so he wouldn't get in trouble.

Then he strained his eyes by giving that endearing puppy-dog look, and somehow, it ended up with him walking you halfway back.

“How are you doing, Miggy?” 

“Huh? I'm fine. My mood hasn't changed in the past five minutes.”

“No, I mean in general. It's been a minute since I asked you that, so I'm just interested. How are you feeling?”

Peering up at the partly cloudy blue sky. The moon was slightly visible, but still enough to be seen by many. 

“In general?” He had to really think.

Things have been seemingly off-putting for the past couple days. With Gwen being so keen on visiting him, the sustainable mass of anomalies surfacing frequently, and more random hounding from Jess and other spiders, he evidently cannot catch a single break. More so than before.

Even with himself, he’s been feeling weirdly skittish as of late.

“I’ve been busy, to say the least. There is more frustration dealing with missions, as you know, and things have been... abnormal. I can’t exactly explain it.”

“Right. One of those occasions where you can’t pinpoint the exact emotion. I had many moments like that, even some that came at the most inconvenient of times.” You swung your arms back and forth, jumping over some cracks in the sidewalks.

“That’s the thing, mi corazón. I feel the usual annoyance and tiredness, but there is still an unspecified emotion that I know is there. Maybe I can’t pinpoint it like you stated, but what I do know is that it’s bothering me to no end.”

You faltered a bit in your steps. You wish you could understand what he does slightly more. Being on the outside and only allowed peeks from shreds of slits in the wall isn’t the most instructive and fortuitous way of receiving information. Especially when that tall crack only opens up so much to be viewed. Maybe you could ask for him to go further into specifics or get a personal tour of the teeming headquarters itself in the near future.

That would certainly help out a lot more. However, knowing him, would he even dare to allow it?

Miguel is very acute when it comes to separating the workplace from you. Well, not fully. He purposely makes sure to not let many things slip. He's particularly precise about what he gives away to keep you in a loop and still out of it for your safety.

“If only I were more helpful to you. It sucks hearing you have to deal with all that and have so much fallback on you.”

“Ay, mi Luna, you already do so much for me.” He halted in his tracks, lightly grabbing your arm. “You bring me serenity and this sense of openness whenever I'm around you.”

He still saw the self-inflicting guilt on your face when Miguel bent down until his forehead plopped on yours.

“Want to know how else I'm feeling in general? Happy. A scarce emotion that I haven't felt since mi osita, Gabi. I honestly thought I wouldn't have ever gotten to experience it again, but here I am. So trust and believe me when I tell you, mi Luna, you have done and do so much.”

Wiping away the tears threatening to form, you smile, kissing him with tenderness and love. “You big, loveable, gorgeous oaf. Don't make me cry before work, or Ronnie will think you made me upset.”

“Ronnie doesn't scare me. I'll show her the true reason why that'll make her recoil deep into her office.”

You share an earnest laugh before leaning in for one more deep kiss.

A string snapped.

“I love you, mi Estrella.”

“Y te adoro, mi Luna.”

When you reached the midway mark, he slyly tried to escort you all the way, but you caught on and ordered him to go back to work.

“At this moment, I'm the commander, and you are?” You folded your arms and tapped your foot, throwing back what he proclaimed at the park.

“Ay dio—I'm the lowly, humble subordinate.”

“Mhm. And as your commander, I am commanding you to go back to work before they harass you any further, and that I will be okay.” You grinned; the patience and affirmation in your pitch said it all.

“Yes ma'am. I will go.”

“Good boy.”

That definitely stirred something in him.

“I'll see you later on, Miggy. Bye, mi Estrella!” You blew a kiss and strolled away.

He hated to watch you go, but he knew that at the end of the day, you'd always be there waiting. He turned and began to trudge back.

Back to that place. Back to the hellscape. The plague that never ceases. The turmoil that will never stop. Just like this itch brewing deeply. What was it? What was this incarnation dwelling inside?

The fact that he had no control over it or any logical insight into it drove him insane. Was it a guttural reaction? Was his own body betraying him, refusing to gift his mind with information that loomed on his already pressurized shoulders?

He can't sense much. No spider sense. So why was he so hunched over this? Why does it seem that there's an arbitrary danger lurking somewhere?

Did the room become faintly... dimmer?

Ch.14<< >>Ch.16

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

@ella-janehaven @prozacgooble @sanguwuxyoonbummy

#Spotify #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #tales the songs weave #miguel o'hara #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #atsv miguel #miguel fanfic #miguel spiderverse #miguel x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #atsv #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara x you

[jrow]

May Prompt (22)

Day 21 here. Start from the beginning here.

Night

The night has always been his saviour.

No matter how bad things are, he’s always known he’ll survive if he makes it to the night.

As a child, the night provided refuge from the people he didn’t understand and expectations he could never meet.

By university he knew the language of the masses, but also knew they would never understand his. The nights alone—away from the judgment and ridicule of his peers—were the main reason he survived.

As an adult, nights are where he’s done his best thinking, the dark and quiet acting as a catalyst for creative thinking and snowballing of ideas. Most people lose their grasp of reality at night, with anxiety and self doubt taking over. It’s the opposite for him—the answers, the truth, often become clear when the rest of the world is asleep.

When he was on the run, the nights kept him sane. It was only under dark skies that he allowed himself to think of home. To think of John. To imagine fairytales of what might await his return. He always knew they were just fantasies, but they kept him going.

These past few days, night has served as his North Star, his goal. God, he loves Rosie, but …. well, after dealing with the chaos that is a toddler, it’s nice to love her when she’s quieting and sleeping like an angel.

This evening has been … a challenge. There is a ten step process for bedtime. Each step is absolutely essential—as he learned the hard way that time he tried to skip step six, walking the dirty clothes the hamper. Tonight, Rosie fought every step of the routine and it took nearly an hour and a half.

He understands why. It was a day of “big feelings” for the both of them. The three of them, actually. Because John is home.

John was discharged in the late afternoon and Rosie had been a ball of excited nervous energy since then. Lots of jumping. Lots of falling. Lots of smiles. Lots of tears. Lots of everything.

Lots.

He had insisted on doing bedtime. It was better for him everyone. Rosie has gotten used to him over the past few days and John is still … well … fragile in a way. John had put up a cursory argument but was tired himself and quickly acquiesced.

And now, Rosie is asleep and she is safe. When she wakes, she will be precocious and funny and perfect. That he has had some hand in that may be his greatest achievement.

He closes the door to her room and makes his way to John’s. Now that Rosie is sleeping—now that it is night—he has time to work on the case.

It’s funny in a way how things change. If something like this had happened when he first met John, he would have left him alone in the hospital and been off working on the case immediately. Wouldn’t even have heard about the assassination attempt. If this had happened after knowing John for a year, he would have kidnapped John from the hospital so they could work on the case together, health consequences be damned. If this had happened around the time John got married, he would have spent every second focused on finding the man who attempted to murder John. Then he would have killed him. Then he would have solved the case. Then he would have visited John.

But now … well, solving the case is important but it’s hardly the priority. At least not during the day when the world is awake. But now it’s night.

John should be going to sleep—the man is clearly exhausted. But the fool wants to help. So they struck a deal. They would work together in John’s room, with John lying in bed. He is sure John will fall asleep in no time.

“I thought I’d start going through the pile of new surveillance footage,” John says through a yawn.

Yes, John will be asleep in within 5 minutes.

“Good idea, I’ll go through the case files. Something connects these stores, I just need to find out what,” he says, plopping down in the chair at the foot of the bed.

He had thought the thefts were random—crimes of opportunity—but now he sees everything was planned to a t. Which means the stores, and the order they were targeted, were picked for a reason.

Ten minutes later, John drops the tablet he’s been watching before startling awake.

“Go to bed, John,” he says quietly, picking up the tablet and gently moving it to the side table.

“Mmmkay,” says John, laying his head on his pillow before mumbling, “big plans tomorrow.”

“What’s that?” he asks quietly, not expecting an answer.

But he gets one, mumbled as it is. “We should go for cake. Three of us. Is the weekend. Cake then gift.”

He freezes. The gift. He’d almost forgotten. It seems like so long ago. It seems like it just happened.

“We don’t need to…” he starts, but stops as he sees John is asleep.

God damn it, Mycroft is right. He hates when Mycroft is right. He needs to tell John the truth about the chase. About John’s fall. He needs a do over or whatever the hell the term is. If he tells John, then maybe he can open that damn gift without his guilt eating him alive.

He picks up the tablet to move it to the sitting room. The screen wakes up, revealing the final image John was looking at. A young couple at the counter in New Cavendish, looking at rings, presumably. A uniformed constable is leaving.

His eyes go wide and he drops the tablet, diving to get the case notes he was just reading. Yes, there it is. The owner of Cox and Power explaining the store had been visited by a friendly unnamed constable the day the store was robbed.

He drops to the floor and crosses his legs, arranging all the notes so they are laid out in front of him. The sound of John snoring softly acting as his soundtrack.

It’s time to work.

@keirgreeneyes @raina-at @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @jolieblack @phoenix27884 @friday411 @calaisreno @quimerasyutopias @lisbeth-kk @safedistancefrombeingsmart @momma2boys @helloliriels @dapetty

#johnlock #wip #may prompts 2024

[sugoi-and-spice]

For the first time in his life, Tomura Shigaraki has full control of his quirk. With this newfound freedom, there is so much that he wants to do. And it just so happens that you are at the very top of that list.

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x GN!Reader

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI

Contains: GN!Pronouns, Smut, Soft Shigaraki, Penetrative Sex (Reader Receiving), Oral Sex (Reader Recieving), Pre-Paranormal Liberation War, Post-PLF Manga Spoilers tho, Established Relationship, Alcohol, Massage, League Shenanigans. (Honestly, no crazy CW's with this one lol. It's just fluff and smut and angst lol)

Notes: I tried to write something wholesome to try and heal our mourning Shig-simp hearts... It had mixed results lol.

AO3 Link

Like my work? Please consider commissioning me or contributing to my Ko-Fi!

That seemed a little too easy.

It’s the first thought that crossed Shigaraki’s mind when he came to on the Doctor’s operating table. Don’t get him wrong, the time Ujiko had spent vivisecting him from finger to finger had been hell on earth, but it seemed to go by a little too quickly for four months. 

“That’s because it’s only been a week,” Ujiko explained as he approached Shigaraki with a paper cup of water — an absolutely pathetic offering considering the world of pain the man had just mercilessly put him through.

But Shigaraki took it anyway.

“Didn’t realize that there were going to be breaks,” he said before knocking back the cup in one gulp.

“Once we begin the transference of All for One, there won’t be,” Ujiko explained, “What I was working on this time, was completing your quirk.”

Shigaraki’s brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

Ujiko chuckled, gesturing to the paper cup in the new leader’s hands, “Why don’t you try putting your pinky down?”

He shot the doctor a confused look, not sure what exactly that would accomplish other than sparing him a trip to the trash can. But upon Ujiko’s nod of reassurance, he looked back down at the cup, bringing his raised finger down on its crease experimentally.

Shigaraki’s eyes widened immediately.

The cup was still in his hand.

It didn’t turn to dust. Didn’t even crumble or sport a single crack. He touched it with all five fingers and yet it stood with as much integrity as the steel IV pole next to him. 

He snapped to the doctor, something unreadable in his voice, “Is… Is decay gone?”

“No, no of course not. I’d never purge you of such a powerful quirk,” Ujiko assured, “You just have control over it now.”

Shigaraki willed decay to activate, testing Ujiko’s explanation, and in an instant, the cup dissolved under his touch, just like he was used to. 

He stared at his hand in disbelief, the dust falling through his fingers. He couldn’t believe this…

“And it’s not just turning it on or off, all or nothing,” Ujiko continued, “You can stop the spread of decay at certain points, activate it with just one finger — you have full control.”

Shigaraki snapped to Ujiko, intensely. Desperate. Maybe he should’ve been doing a better job of maintaining his poker face like Sensei would’ve, to try and hide the way this was affecting him. But he just couldn’t. Not now. Not when something he’d longed for so badly, so primally was so close to his grasp.

“Are you sure?”

Ujiko didn’t seem to take notice of this lapse of control however. Or at least, he didn’t care. His bushy mustache just raised with a small smile and pride in his work.

“Quite sure.”

 Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed. He was not fucking around here, “ How sure?”

Ujiko’s smile shifted slightly, a challenging smirk pulling at the corners as he offered his own hand as fodder.

Shigaraki slapped his fingers fully atop the back of Daruma’s fat hand, letting the full extent of his anger and emotions drive him. He wanted to test this fully, test that even in fits of passion, he wouldn’t lose control.

And he didn’t.

Daruma Ujiko stood just as whole and living in front of him as the moments before. The only change was the chuckle of satisfaction that Shigaraki’s dumbfounded expression brought him.

“Pretty neat, huh?” Daruma said, turning back to start pulling out equipment for the next phase of experimentation, large hulking tubes and wires that looked more akin to HVAC parts than real medical equipment.

Neat wasn’t exactly the phrase Shigaraki would use. But he didn’t really care anymore. 

He had shit to do.

“Now, regarding the next steps in your transformation—”

The EKG machine behind him beeped loudly and suddenly, signaling that it had been disconnected. Ujiko turned back to Shigaraki curiously, watching as he pulled off the various electrode pads scattered across his chest and back.

“You don’t want to get started?”

“Tomorrow,” Shigaraki answered, ripping the IV from his wrist as he hopped off the table.

“But what about the power? Your dreams?” Ujiko pressed, something strained, irritated starting to form in his voice, “I would think that these are all things you’d want without delay.”

“I do. But achieving them one day later won’t kill me. And I have some shit to take care of before I grind for four months.”

Ujiko clicked his tongue, clearly unsatisfied with this new development. 

He knew exactly what Shigaraki had to go take care of. And he didn’t like it. Didn’t like you . He’d never liked you in fact. You asked too many questions. Had too many suspicions…

But Shigaraki didn’t care about the doctor’s disapproval, simply turned to him after slapping a bandage over his free-flowing wrist and commanded, “Warp me back to the villa.”

This clearly wasn’t up for discussion. Ujiko could’ve protested, sure, but at the end of the day it wouldn’t have mattered. Shigaraki wasn’t a kid anymore, far from it. He’d taken the mantle of true leader by force, and held his head high with the confidence that accomplishment deserved. If he wanted to do something, he was going to do it. The risk of upsetting the doctor or even his master was not a concern anymore. It barely ever had been.

So in the end Ujiko just sighed and turned to his obedient servant sitting patiently in the corner, “Johnny.”

Shigaraki didn’t so much as flinch as the warp came spewing out of his mouth. In fact, a rare sheen of childlike joy took over his features instead. Daruma noted this with a shaking head as he warped away. Oh well. If Shigaraki wanted one last night with his companions, with his little distraction , who was Ujiko to get in the way?

This was the last night he’d have control over his own body after all. Might as well let him enjoy it.

“Robber!” you cheered victoriously, pumping your fist over the seven you rolled.

“Noooo, not again!!” Toga cried out.

You grabbed the little gray token off the board, twirling it around tauntingly as you hum, “Hmmm, and where should I put him? I wonder…”

Spinner glared at you from across the board, “If you put it on my wheat field one more time—”

“Great idea Spinner!” you mock-gasped, already well aware of where you were planning to put it, and slap the Robber down in the center of Spinner’s monopolized wheat hex. 

“Great move! Cheap shot! ” Twice, the last player of the group, piped in.

“ Damn it !” Spinner punched his fist down on the table, shaking the drinks surrounding the board precariously.

“Oi, oi careful there!” you said, grabbing your glass of wine protectively, “If you party foul, you lose a turn.”

Spinner just grumbled irritably, grabbing his own beer and knocking it back to try and quell some of his frustration. You giggled at the sight. It would be easy to assume that Shigaraki was the most competitive and aggressive game player out of the League, but he actually managed to keep his cool during sessions most of the time. No, it was undeniably Spinner that was the most uncontrollably competitive, and it never failed to make you smile.

Even as the thought of Shigaraki threatened your demeanor with a frown.

You shook out the thought, because of course, you had another certain player to focus on. And you turned to her pointedly.

“Alright Toga, half your hand, let’s go.”

She gasped, “Whaaaat? What are you talking about!? I only have six cards!”

“That’s because two of them are sticking out of your sweater.”

Toga looked down to her sleeve, where indeed the corners of two resource cards were poking out rebelliously.

She snapped back to Compress in offense, who sat on the couch behind her, observing the game amusedly with his own glass of wine in hand, “Atsuhiro! You said that trick would work!”

“I’m sorry my dear,” he shrugged his hands tragically, “But it seems your sleight of hand needs a bit more work.”

Toga groaned, pulling her cards out of her sleeve and looking over which ones she wanted to discard with a pout.

Crushing his finished beer in his hand, Spinner turned back to Dabi who sat across the room, as far from the game as possible, and pretending not to watch it all, like he wsn’t invested in a single thing in this room. Not at all.

“Oi Dabi, can you grab me a beer?”

“You’ve got legs, get it yourself.”

“But the fridge is right freaking next to you!” Spinner shouted, pointing at the minifridge that actually, was not only right next to Dabi, but that he was currently resting his feet on top of.

But Dabi was a son of a bitch. So rather than even giving him an answer, he just crossed his feet over the fridge, making himself more comfortable.

“God, seriously ?!���

Shigaraki watched this all from the doorway with a whisper of a smile on his face. He’d stopped by his bedroom at the villa to grab a button down and even considered grabbing a quick shower while he was at it before coming here — the griminess of a week of experimentation sticking to him thickly. But ultimately he’d been too eager to see his comrades.

Yet, once he got to the doorway that the familiar rowdy laughter of his League led him to, he couldn’t help but just stop and take in the moment. It was nice to see them all so comfortable and content after months of chaos and vagrancy. And it was a look that especially suited you.

While you’d never been particularly materialistic or image-obsessed (if your decision to be with him didn’t make that obvious), you certainly also weren’t one to turn down the finer things in life when offered. And clearly here, you’d been offered, given the cashmere sweater and expensive bottle of wine you were currently enjoying. The regular access to showers and brand name moisturizers and cosmetics certainly weren’t hurting you either. Your skin was clearer and more glowing than he’d seen in months. You’d even seemed to have some time to style your hair today.

And of course there was your laugh. That big, uninhibited laugh that you only let out when you were truly comfortable. In general you were a pretty pragmatic person. It’s one of the things he’d always appreciated about you, particularly when surrounded by this circus that he calls a villain group. 

You approached new situations skeptically and took most things seriously. It’s not like you had no sense of humor, quite the opposite actually. But you also were very aware that there was a time and place for everything. When the pressure was high, laughter was nowhere to be found. And it had certainly been nowhere to be found for a while now.

So it went without saying that seeing you like this now, laughing over a game board, cheeks tinged slightly-red from the wine, completely taken care of and without a care in the world…

It was quite the sight for sore eyes.

“Shigaraki?”

He blinked and looked back to Spinner who, in standing to go grab a beer from the fridge, had turned and spotted him in the doorway.

“Tomura!” Toga squealed excitedly, jumping up out of her seat with Twice to join Spinner in barraging him in the doorway.

“What’re you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be leveling up with the Doc?” Spinner asked.

“Got a night off,” he answered simply.

“That’s awesome boss! Who needs ya?! ”

He turned to look past the three as you approached behind them, much calmer than the others, as usual. But that didn’t mean you weren’t just as thrilled to have him here. The adoration in your eyes was clear from across the room and it warmed him up in a way that he’d learned to really enjoy.

“It’s good to see you,” you said, simple and sweet. There was clearly so much more behind those words, but you knew how Shigaraki felt about doing shit like that in front of people, so you kept it subtle.

Apparently the caution was unnecessary though, as Shigaraki seemed to have lost his own patience for pretense. Even if it made his next words the spark that set off a firework show of “ooo’s” and teasing from resident forever teenagers, Toga and Twice.

“Yeah…” he breathed, “...Can we talk? Alone?”

It was all you could do to sit down on his bed when he told you.

“Full control?” you repeated in disbelief.

“Full control.”

You smiled, so genuinely, eyes starting to shine. You weren't even thinking about what this meant for the two of you yet, you were just happy for him, for the peace he could now live with. The burden that had eased.

“That… That’s amazing Tomura…”

Shigaraki stared down at you, a lump of nerves settling in his gut. He wasn’t affected by things like nerves or apprehension very much anymore — barely ever was in the first place, and especially not now that he had all the confidence and authority of a “Supreme Leader”. But he couldn’t keep those feelings from surfacing in that moment, couldn’t shake the image in his mind of things going terribly wrong. 

Of you crumbling into a pile of dust and viscera in front of him.

He swallowed down those fears though, and started to reach out a shaky hand, “Can… Can I…?”

Whatever apprehension he felt, you obviously didn’t share. You shot out a hand immediately, without hesitation. With complete trust in his word. In him.

His trembling palm pressed against your own firm one, fingers still raised taught and high on instinct, careful not to make contact. You slotted your fingers through his own, bringing them down to hold his hand with none of that same carefulness. His knee-jerk reaction was to scold you for being so reckless around his hands, just like he always did, but he held the words back, knowing he didn’t need to anymore. But the subconscious anxiety buzzing within him was just the same. 

You didn’t rush him either. Just gave him a squeeze of reassurance, and that was enough to finally encourage him to put a finger down. And then another. Tip by tip resting firmly and fully against your knuckles, until only his pinky remained raised.

He stared down at the horrid appendage, the one that had betrayed him so many times. That he could remember the horrible, gruesome ways in which it had destroyed in full, vivid detail now. Of the damage it could do to not only the world, but had done to his world. To Mon-chan, his mother, his sister…

The League was his world now — you were his world. And the idea of destroying that all with his own hands. It was too much. 

No, he decided, starting to pull away. This wasn’t fucking worth the risk.

But you leaned forward then, pressing your lips gently against his, locking him in place. You didn’t deepen it, nor did you pull away. You just held yourself against him, willing him to understand that this would all be okay. That he was a “Grand Commander” now, and with that came taking risks. Risks that you’d stand behind him through to the bitter end.

How you managed to communicate that all in just a kiss — how you always managed to communicate so much with so little — should’ve been a quirk of its own honestly. But regardless of how, the comfort of those unspoken words was enough to spur him forward. Shigaraki brought down his pinky.

And you didn’t turn to dust. 

You pulled away in fact, just a little, your eyes fluttering open as a soft, tearful smile spread across your face.

“Tomura—”

He surged forward, all of that hesitation and fear from before vanished in an instant. He shoved your hands together forward, pressing you to the bed as he kissed you with new fervor. His free hand came to hold your face, full and tight, all five fingers scrambling up the length of your cheek, your temple, tangling tight into your hair.

You sobbed happily into his mouth as he pulled his other hand free from yours, running it all across your body, disintegrating your clothes on contact, and then bringing those fingers back up the same route of bare skin, fully in control.

He was just as quick to decay his own clothes as you reached forward to try and tear at the top button of his shirt, which, while haphazardly done, was still too secure for either of your patience. He needed to feel you, all of you. Every inch against every pad of his fingers for the very first time.

And possibly even the last.

He didn’t want to think about that now though. He just wanted to shove you up higher onto the center of the bed, shoving your legs open wide as he kissed down the expanse of your chest and stomach. As he buried himself into your center, the pads of his fingers squeezing painfully tight into the pudge of your thighs.

But you didn’t mind the pain. Not only because it surged the pleasure just that much further, but because it grounded you. Reminded you that this was real. It promised a world — no matter how distant or near-impossible it was in reality — where Tomura Shigaraki could be whole and happy. 

Where he could fully be with you.

Your legs strained against his grip, instinctually trying to close as his working tongue pushed you closer and closer to climax. It wasn’t going to take you long at all to reach that peak. After all, the intensity and emotion of the moment aside, it had been a long while since your last coupling. The weeks of recovering from his fight with Re-Destro, the full month you all spent fighting Gigantomachia. And of course, even before that, with the close quarters and stress that came from living on the run and in complete squalor, your escapades had become pretty few and far between. (It was hard to get in the mood when you hadn’t eaten or showered properly in over a week).

So yeah, suffice it to say you were pretty touch-starved at this point, the work of your fingers on lonely nights at the villa having absolutely nothing on Shigaraki’s skillful tongue. And the voraciousness with which he assaulted your sex certainly wasn’t slowing things down for you either.

He didn’t even need to slip his long, knowing fingers into you to have you coming undone — he wouldn’t want to right now anyway, completely losing himself in the way your thighs felt squeezed between his fingers, but that feel of his nails digging into you spurred you on in their own way, ripping a cry from your throat as you came hard under his lips.

Shigaraki smirked up at you, wiping the excess slick from his chin with the meat of his palm, “Missed that.”

You smiled back at him, your own tinged with a bit of sadness as he climbed up over you, hands running up your ribcage. Because you didn’t just miss this. You missed him. And you knew that feeling wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. In fact, it was just getting started.

His brows furrowed at your expression. He’d always been good at reading you, and it’s not like you were being particularly subtle, “You good?”

You chased the melancholy from your smile quickly, planting a happy peck at the corner of his mouth before showing him teeth, “I’m great.”

He hummed, a gentleness overtaking his own features as he stared down at you. Adoration, pure and whole and unrestrained, particularly as he brought a hand back up to cup your face. His fingers spread across the expanse of your skin greedily, his thumb dipping down into your mouth. 

They were small gestures, little things that he seemed the most eager to do with his newly-attained range of touch. But it was obvious that they were huge to him. They were a freedom and a comfort that he’d been chasing his entire life. Even if he didn’t know it.

He groaned as you wrapped your own fingers around his cock, guiding him eagerly to your entrance. You had to. As much as he obviously wanted to fuck you, he couldn’t bare to take his fingers off of you for a second. He’d settle for fucking the plush of your thighs if it meant that he could hold you fully in his hands for just a second longer.

You, of course, were not so willing to settle.

“God—fuuck yes,” he growled, low in his throat, as he sank slowly into you, eternally grateful that for once your patience was even more lacking than his.

You grinned up at him`, shifting your hands to settle on the hard curves of his hips, “That’s good, huh?”

It was all he could do to nod shakily, lip biting back a breathy whine and brows knitting hard, as he tried desperately not to blow his load immediately.

You hummed happily at the sight, bringing one of your hands up to run across his cheek and through his hair. You remembered thinking a few months ago just how much those fights with Gigantomachia and Redestro had hardened him, aged him. Foolishly, it had even had you questioning briefly if this would be the end of your relationship. If maybe the shift that occurred during his awakening would chasm too big a valley for you two to bridge.

Of course, in the privacy of the League’s quarters, off of the stages and away from all the new adoring fans (bandwagoners, you and Spinner sometimes like to joke), he had been the same old Tomura Shigaraki, if not a little more confident and level-headed. He still complained about how everyone sitting on his bed eating dinner while he was on strict bed rest was too loud, still invested himself fully and kicking ass at every little game – from video games to cards – they challenged him to in order to pass the time with a cocky little smirk on his face.

And right now, with his face flushed and mouth agape with pleasure, he still looked just as young and ready to take on the world as the day you met him.

Finally he started to rock into you, slow and deep. One of his hands slipped down to the crux of your neck, fingertips biting tight into that smooth skin as he pulled you closer and closer into him. The other found a tight, desperate purchase on the handle of your hip. He used the grip of both to pump harder and deeper into you with every snapping thrust.

Minus the dry spell the two of you had endured over the last couple of months, you and Shigaraki had, overall, had a lot of sex over the last year that you’d known him.

Like, a lot of sex.

Rough sex, soft sex, angry, and fun. And while the man who claimed to hate everything would of course be remiss to admit it, there had indeed been quite a lot of genuine, intense lovemaking mixed in there too. But this right now, with all of the feelings and newness and longing that came with every stroke and whisper?

If Tomura Shigaraki was in fact capable of love, you were positive that this was the representation of that.

His lips dropped hot against the shell of your ear, peppering desperate bites and kisses along the skin as a string of breathy babble spilled out between.

“God fuck, you’re so perfect. Feel so good. Every part of you, so good. So fucking perfect…”

Overwhelmed with emotion and pleasure, it was all you could do to just mewl out his name, “Tomura, Tomura, Tomura—!”

His hips rolled against you with every hard buck, stimulating your aching sex in the way he knew you loved. That would have you clenching and spilling around him over and over again in the way that he loved. You weren’t even sure if it was intentional at this point, or if you had memorized each other’s bodies so well that it just became an instinctual part of his movement. You certainly didn’t have the forethought to drag your nails up the curve of his spine in the way that had him cursing and speeding up immediately.

“F-Fuck, I’m not gonna last like that—” he growled out, rutting desperately into you in spite of his own warning.

“G-Good,” you breathed back, rolling your hips right back into his, “Don’t.”

“B-But—”

He couldn’t get the rest of the words out, his mouth overtaken by a deliciously loud moan instead as he hit that deep, spongy spot inside of you that was heaven for the both of you. You got the message anyway.

But he wanted to keep fucking you. But he wanted this to last.

But he never wanted this to end.

You tangled your hand through his locks, reveling in the fact that there was so much more to hold now, and yanked his head back hard so he’d look at you.

“But nothing,” you smiled through hot, huffing breaths, “You’re fucking crazy if you think this is our only round.”

He stared at you in complete awe for a moment, hips almost coming to a stop as he took in this moment, took in you and the way that you always seemed to know what he was thinking and what he needed, even when he didn’t. 

Even if he hadn’t had his own dreams for the future, looking at you now, reveling in all that you’d been through together and all that you’d done for him, thinking about all that you deserved… If he could destroy this rotten society just so that you could have the freedom to be half as happy as you looked in this moment for the rest of your life, he’d gladly fucking do it.

Shigaraki’s face mirrored yours quickly after, a wide lascivious grin spreading across his face. It was all teeth and joy and feral desire to absolutely fucking wreck you. And let himself pound into you with the most reckless abandon he could muster.

You cried out at the new punishing pace, nails pushing hard into his skin, and heels locking sharp around his waist, spurred by the desperate need to have him pound into you harder, deeper, faster. Until you were completely coming apart around him, with his own violent release following close behind.

About two hours later, when you’re lying blissed out, sticky, and half-asleep on Shigaraki’s bare chest, he told you to roll over onto your stomach.

You groaned in protest — while your spirit was eager to roll around the sheets with him as much as possible before the sunrise, your body was sore and spent.

“Not for that,” he said, nudging your shoulder, “Just trust me.”

There was still some visible exasperation as you finally gave in, joints and back aching as you moved them before they were ready. You rolled over onto your stomach, dropping your cheek into the mountain of pillows that awaited you.

Shigaraki followed, moving his body over yours and straddling your hips. You were about to scold him for tricking you when, rather than grinding himself into the curve of your ass or thighs, he simply sat down on your butt and brought his hands to the base of your back. Then he started to knead and you knew exactly what he was doing.

Many a time during your months on the run did you take it upon yourself to try and alleviate some of his stress. Of course one of his favorite ways (and yours too) of doing so was to fuck each other’s brains out. But there were also many times when that wasn’t exactly an option. Whether because there were others around or because he was elbow deep in work for their next operation.

At times like those, when he was hunched over a shitty, half-dead laptop he’d manage to scrounge up from a dumpster, or held his fingers to the bridge of his nose, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to fight off an impending headache from the constant pressures of responsibility — you’d usually come up behind him and rub his neck. 

It wasn’t like you made a big show of it or anything. Most of the time you’d just reach a single hand over to him and start to stroke his neck without a word. Not expecting him to say or do anything, not even expecting a thank you. You just wanted to do whatever you could. When it was just the two of you around whatever sorry excuse for a base you’d managed to find, or when you’d been lucky enough to be settled in a safehouse with private rooms, you’d manage to talk him into laying down on his stomach, much like this, and work knots that he could’ve sworn had been there since birth, right out of his back. 

He never said anything about it, never thanked you nor told you to stop, but in retrospect he did realize that it was one of the few things that managed to bring him even a smidgeon of peace over those many stressful months, that actually got him through it all. Particularly in the fights against Gigantomachia, where, the second the beast was asleep, you’d insist he lay his head down in your lap while you rubbed softly at his temples, lulling him near instantly to do the same.

It truly meant the world to him, even if he’d never admit it. A deep, foolishly sentimental part of him always wished that he could return the favor. 

And now he could. 

Of course… That didn’t mean he was any good at it.

“Pinching, you’re pinching,” you winced as his thumbs pressed together, unoiled, on a patch of your back awkwardly.

“Oh shit,” he released his grip, settling to just rub his fingers up and down your back slowly, “Sorry…”

“It’s fine. You just can’t do it that hard if you don’t have any oil or lotion, you know?”

His brows furrowed, “You always did it that hard without any of that crap and it felt fine.

You smirked back at him playfully, “That’s because I’m really good.”

He shot you a look, completely unimpressed.

“I liked what you were doing before,” you conceded. 

This was clearly something he wanted to do, and who were you to complain or judge when he was being so unabashedly giving? 

“When you were using your palms. Just pressing and kneading with your whole hands rather than trying to do any pressure point stuff is really nice.”

“Yeah, okay…” he nodded, concentration settling over his features as he followed instructions.

You sighed, burying your face back into the pillows as he ran those hot, calloused hands purposefully up and down your back. 

This was nice. 

Again, while he wasn’t hurting you anymore, the massage itself wasn’t particularly skillful. It did put you at ease though, the way his smell and presence, the way those hands — even when you could never feel them fully against you — always managed to put you at ease.

After at least thirty minutes passed and Shigaraki showed no sign of stopping his ministrations, you peaked back up at him.

“You don’t have to keep this up you know.”

He snorted, “Yeah I know.” 

And you should’ve expected that response. Because of course he knew. He wasn’t doing this out of obligation or anything. Tomura Shigaraki didn’t do anything he didn’t want to after all.

You rolled your eyes, “I just mean that you must be tired after all that. Don’t you want to sleep?”

“I’m gonna be asleep for the next four months. I think I’ll be good missing one night.”

The message behind those words was clear. He only had so much time to spend with you, he wasn’t going to waste even a second of it with something as stupid as sleeping.

You should’ve been flattered by that. And of course you were. And truth be told, you had the same mindset as him. You had no plans to sleep that night either, even if he had. But the reminder of his fate for the next four months brought a bitterness to your mouth that overpowered the sweetness of this opportunity.

“Sleep, huh?” you said doubtfully, “Is that what the Doctor is calling it?”

“I guess suspended animation,” he corrected himself, “Or whatever the fuck.”

Amongst other things. Hellish agony he believed was the way the Doctor so eloquently put it. But he’d chosen to spare you (and the rest of the League) those particular details.

Even without that knowledge though, you still weren’t thrilled by the prospect. Of course because you were going to miss him, but mostly because you trusted that fucking doctor about as far as he could throw you. Which, for that portly little creep, you were pretty sure wasn’t far.

Particularly, because now that the excitement and happiness you’d had for Tomura’s newfound quirk control (as well as the fog from your repeated orgasms) was starting to fade into something more grounded, a sneaky little question managed to worm its way into your head.

Had the Doctor been capable of “fixing” his quirk this entire time?

A loud pounding on the door suddenly broke the silence, at least two fists rapping. And then Twice’s muffled call of, “Alright you two, you’ve had your fun! Now come out and play with the rest of us! Take your time! Make babies if ya want!”

You snorted at the call. Shigaraki was substantially less entertained.

“Jiiiin!” Toga whined from the other side of the door, “Leave them alone! They want some privacy!”

Ah, so the two fists knocking must’ve both been Twice.

“But you missed Shigaraki too, Toga!”

“I know, but…” 

A stretch of silence. And then apparently Toga’s support for love was outweighed by how much she missed her friend. Because then two more fists started knocking on the door.

“Tomuraaaa, come ooouuuut!!” Toga cried, Twice starting up his own pounding on the door right along with them.

“Yeah, yeah— come out! Stay away !”

“I’ll kill them…” Shigaraki growled, glaring at the door heatedly.

You just giggled as you rolled over under him, dropping him to sit on your waist.

“Oh don’t be like that Tomura,” you cooed, reaching up to cup his cheek in your palm and turning him to look at you, “We should all go hang out. I’m not the only one who’s gonna miss you these next four months, you know.”

He sneered at the suggestion at first, wanting nothing more than to spend the entirety of these next twelve or so hours with his hands holding on to you as tight as possible.

But then he really got thinking about it. About them. 

Spinner, Toga, Twice, Compress, hell, even Dabi. There wasn’t going to be time to fuck around with them all once he woke up. They’d be going straight into action, into war. Into the future, wherever that may lead. This wasn’t just going to be his last guaranteed chance to enjoy time with you. It was his last chance to spend time with any of them, until they achieved their goals. And by the end of all that, who even knew how many of them would still be alive?

It was a weight he’d carried around with ease as they planned out their attack over the last couple of months, a weight he’d been carrying for the past year if he was being honest. But it never felt as heavy on his soul at this very moment.

You were right. Absolutely right.

How annoying, he thought with a grumble.

You smiled as you saw that shift on his face, the slight softness that always fell over him when he thought about the League, even if he wasn’t aware of it.

“Alright?” you pressed.

He sighed, “Yeah, yeah. Alright…” 

And then let the corner of his mouth quirk up ever so slightly as he looked down at you, so splayed and fucked out and pretty. He leaned down to press a long, but surprisingly chaste kiss on you, for someone that was still sitting atop your naked form with his own.

Because just because he was going to get up, didn’t mean he was going to be in any rush.

Caught up in the feel of each other, neither of you noticed the click of the door and Spinner’s voice announcing, startlingly clear, “Guys, the door is unlocked.”

“Ack— SPINNER!! ”

“Okay, you’ve got that all memorized?” Toga chirped, sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor.

“Yeah, I guess.” Shigaraki, across from her, shrugged, strongly resisting the urge to tell her about how stupid this all was (again). 

“Great! So then we start in that first position, crossed arms,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest by example.

Shigaraki sighed and mirrored her.

“Alright! One, two, three!” she sounded off excitedly, before fluttering her hands eagerly and singing, “Misssss Maaaaaryyyyy Mack, Mack, Mack! All dressed in black, black, black…”

You grinned from your position on the couch, glass of wine in hand, as you watched the two. Shigaraki was pointedly not singing along with Toga, but he was matching her claps with impeccable accuracy.

The League had been just as stunned and excited to hear about Shigaraki’s new upgrade. Not to the point of immediately jumping on his dick, but that was obviously more than okay with him.

No, they were more interested in giving him a speedrun through all of the things he’d missed out on in life from not being able to grab it with all five fingers. Playground clap games that Shigaraki, as a boy, couldn’t say he ever played even before his quirk awakened, were apparently of the highest priority to Toga.

“With silver buttons, buttons buttons— Tomura, you’re not singing!”

“And I’m not gonna,” he grumbled back, but not stopping his hands, “Take the W as it is, or don’t take it at all.”

You laughed at the sight, a new glass of wine that you were sure Shigaraki would want by the end of this.

Mr. Compress read Shigaraki’s palms next. 

They supposed that this was technically something they could’ve done even before Shigaraki’s upgrade, but with how careful and particular he’d been with anybody getting anywhere near his hands, it definitely wasn’t something they had ever thought to give a go before now.

He decided to read the palm that hadn’t been marred by the fight with Redestro, for more “accuracy” (a reasoning that Shigaraki had openly scoffed at).

“Your love line is quite straight and short,” Compress explained, “Which indicates that you don’t have a lot of interest in love.”

“Booooo,” a red-faced Toga whined from her place on the floor between your legs, shooting Shigaraki an aggressive thumbs down.

You promptly grabbed the half-empty can of chuhai next to her foot, and moved it up to the side table out of her sight. Underage drinking was officially done for the night.

Unbothered, Mr. Compress continued his reading, running his mechanical finger along the top line of Shigaraki’s palm, “Since your love line begins below your middle finger though, it also means that when you do love, you’re quite selfish about it.”

You chuckled, “Hammer? Meet nail.”

“Oh shut up,” he waved you off with his free hand.

“Next is your head line, which represents the way you learn and communicate, as well as your overall intellectualism and thirst for knowledge.” Compress turned to the rest of the group, finger raised as he lectured.

Dabi, from his place leaning judgmentally against the wall across from them, huffed, “Alright, I agree with the Boss on this one. This is really stupid.”

Toga grinned at him, pointing teasingly, “You’re just saying that because you don’t have any more lines in your palm to read! Jelly!”

“I’m not—”

“Jelly!” Twice backed Toga up with a chant, “Jelly, jelly, jelly! Peanut butter !”

Dabi just sighed and returned to his nth beer of the night.

“You have a deep and long head line, that runs separate from your heart line,” Compress continued, “That means that you’re clear and focussed, with a great sense of adventure and enthusiasm for life.”

Shigaraki snorted, “Alright, now I know this is bullshit.”

You flicked his cheek scoldingly, “Just keep going.”

“I also see a singular cross in your heart line, which suggests that you carry some emotional crisis.”

Compress didn’t linger on that point. After all, everyone in this room was dealing with the same thing in one way or another.

“The lifeline is the most interesting in my opinion,” Compress explained, “As opposed to what you might think, it doesn’t have to do with the length of your life, but the quality of it. Yours runs close to the thumb and forks downwards, which means you’re often tired and a pessimist.”

Toga snickered a bit at that, “Still think it’s BS, Tomura?”

“I’m getting the distinct feeling you guys are doing this just as an excuse to insult me to my face.”

You gave his freehand a squeeze, “Oh we don’t need the pretense to do that.”

“ Oi. ”

“There’s a circle in the line too, which predicts great injury or hospitalization.”

The League looked at him pointedly, and he just rolled his eyes.

“The last detail about your life line is a curious one. It’s short and shallow,” Compress said, cocking his head in a way that clearly indicated that he didn’t exactly agree with it, “Which indicates that you’re easily manipulated by others.”

Your frowned. 

The rest of the League members pulled faces that clearly showed their similar disagreement with the reading. But you, thinking back to all his interactions with All for One and the Doctor, everything in his life that he’d described to you…

Well, you weren’t so sure.

“Pffft, like I said,” Shigaraki scoffed, gesturing for you to hand him his wine, “It’s all bullshit.”

Deliberately, Mr. Compress did not read Shigaraki’s fate line.

You weren’t sure when the night turned into the League taking turns with choosing tasks for Shigaraki to complete, but you weren’t going to complain. You were already looking forward to Toga’s next round after she’d screamed up into the security camera you all knew Skeptic was watching irritatedly through to get her some string for cat’s cradle.

Spinner’s turn was pretty simple though, and at first, not especially different then before. You thought at first that maybe that was by design, that Spinner just wanted to spend some time with Shigaraki the way he always had.

He wanted to play video games.

Of course, there was a twist.

“Fingers down.” Spinner scolded him for what had to be the fifth time in the last ten minutes, “Toga, I need chicken.”

“Yes, chef!” she chirped back happily.

“God, fucking—” Shigaraki growled, forcing his pinkies back down onto the controller against every instinct in his body.

Years of having to hold things in a particular way had caused him to develop a very particular controller grip. One that, once, back at the bar — god, that felt like it was so long ago now — several of you had tried to mimic, just for the hell of it. (Or more accurately, just to get his goat). And it had been hard . The general consensus had been that no normal human should be able to hold a controller like this, let alone hold a controller like this and be as good at video games as Tomura Shigaraki was. 

Now though, the shoe was on the other foot — or more accurately the controller was in the other hands — as you all forced Shigaraki to go a couple rounds of Overcooked while holding the pro controller like a normal fucking person. And it was not going well. 

“Stop dropping shit!” you yelled hysterically next to Shigaraki, “Do you see how many burritos we still need to make?!”

“Do you think I’m doing it on purpose?!” he shouted right back, possibly more worked up than you’d ever seen him.

Toga on the other side of him giggled. She and Spinner were having absolutely no trouble at all on their side of the kitchen, “Tomura, I thought you were supposed to be good at video games.”

“I am! I’m just not used to this grip— FUCK! ” he screamed out as his character once again fell off the map, throwing his controller down onto the carpet.

The room erupted in doubled over laughter and “woah woah woah’s”, over the tantrum the sorts of which none of you had seen since the early days back at the bar.

Maybe he wasn’t such a good sport after all.

With Twice’s request, even you had to admit that things were getting a bit ridiculous.

Twice slammed his elbow down onto the table, holding his palm open for Shigaraki to take, “Gimme all you got, boss! Go easy on me, please!”

Shigaraki, on the other hand, seemed the most enthusiastic about this one, placing his own elbow on the table and grabbing Twice’s hand tight in his own with a cocky grin. 

You suspected that the many beers he’d knocked back (not to mention the entire bottle of wine the two of you had killed together) played a decent role in that, but it was also impossible to deny that their dear leader was fiercely competitive, no matter the game.

“Ready?” you asked, looking between the two. They nodded, and you begrudgingly stepped further into your role as referee, clapping as you counted down, “Three, two, one— arm wrestle!”

The room blew up in a (small) chorus of screams and cheers.  Actually, even that was generous. As referee you were expressly forbidden from picking sides (Twice was very serious about that), and Compress and Dabi were too composed and too uninterested respectively to participate. It was just Spinner and Toga going wild and slamming their hands on the table as Shigaraki’s and Twice’s muscles strained against each other — although they were more than loud enough for the whole group.

“Go, Jin go!” Toga cheered rhythmically, “Go, Jin go!”

“Kick his ass, Shigaraki!” 

The match lasted a respectable amount of time, both sides putting up a pretty damn good fight. And while Twice was built like a tank and was no slouch either — he probably would’ve won this by a moderate margin a couple of months ago — Shigaraki’s month-long escapade with Gigantomachia had given him a strength and will that surpassed Twice’s own.

“Arrrrgh— damn it !!” Twice shouted as Shigaraki slammed his fist down into the table definitively, “Great game Shigaraki! Die!”

You chuckled as Twice got up from his seat, head dropped in defeat, then turned to Spinner, who was already rolling out his dominant shoulder.

“Next challenger,” you gestured to the seat, “You’re up.”

Dabi didn’t have any requests throughout the night (surprise, surprise), just a lot of eyerolls and snippy commentary. But he also didn’t ever split off from any of you, which made you consider that he may not have thought this was all as stupid as he claimed.

The part of the night he seemed to enjoy (or at least, not vocalize his annoyance or the group’s childishness over), the most, was when around 4 am rolled around. 

Out of ideas and exhausted, but absolutely refusing to go to bed, the League decided to take a particularly noisy and drunken nightwalk around the property (much to the dread of whichever resident’s window they passed). This quickly turned into an equally harebrained climb up onto the roof so that you could all watch the sun come up.

That sunrise was still a good hour or so away though by the time you all got settled up there, and as chatty, adrenaline-filled, and drunk as most of you were, the late hour and comforting breeze was starting to get to you all. 

Twice and Toga had long fallen asleep, heads resting together. Compress, with his hands folded over his stomach and Spinner, curling up tighter into a ball with every minute, were not far behind. Dabi’s eyes were closed, but he might’ve still been conscious. He didn’t make a sound either way.

Only Shigaraki seemed to be wide awake, staring up at the waning moon with a complex expression on his face. He looked like he was thinking hard, but also somewhat at peace. Grateful for this moment, but already mourning its inevitable end. Exhilarated by the future that began for him tomorrow.

Wondering just what exactly he’d be leaving behind in the past.

You watched this all cross his face, not shifting between expressions, but clearly feeling it all at once. Overwhelmed, and unprepared to process it all. The one thing that seemed to keep him grounded was the hand that held yours, tight and warm. Anytime tonight that his hands weren’t occupied with whatever silly ringer the rest of the League was putting through, he was threading those fingers right back with yours, savoring the one new experience that he truly wanted to indulge the most in. 

And you were more than happy to let him.

He shifted a bit in surprise as you nuzzled into his shoulder, squeezing his hand just a bit tighter in your own.

“You’re still awake,” he commented, voice horse with the sleep his body clearly wanted.

“So are you,” you mumbled against the fabric of his shirt, just breathing him in.

“Yeah, but you need sleep,” he chuckled, “Like I said, I’ll be having more than enough of it for the next four months.”

You stilled against him, frowning. 

Right. The next four months.

Shigaraki seemed to sense your shift in mood, and kicked himself. That was a stupid thing to mention again when you’d finally managed to put it out of your mind for a few hours, and when that fate itself was even fewer hours away.

He ran his thumb with a restlessness that was once reserved for his nails against his neck. Even with that itch seemingly gone for good from his life, Shigaraki was still a fidgety person by nature. Especially when uncomfortable.

“You guys will be busy,” he grumbled, “Planning the attacks, organizing your regiments, training… You’ll barely even notice I’m gone.”

You didn’t comment on the stupidity of that statement, even though it was a really, really stupid and patently untrue thing for him to say. Because frankly, it wasn’t what was on your mind at the moment, not the front of it anyway. Of course the fact that you were going to miss him and these days together was a constant parasite, gnawing and suckling in the back of your brain. But truly, your current concern was a bit less melancholy. Less abstract.

Shigaraki had full control over his quirk now. And it was great and beautiful and nothing short of a miracle of course, you wouldn’t trade this night and all the memories opened up by that particular door for anything in the world. And yet you could not fight that question that had first struck your mind the first moment you had to actually think about it.

Why now?

That question wrenched through you painfully, no matter how much you loved the feel and sight of his hand in your own. Because sure, Shigaraki had been out of touch with the Doctor ever since All for One’s arrest. But what about the last sixteen some years that he’d been at the personal beck and call of All for One and his ward? Why hadn’t he ever adjusted Shigaraki’s quirk then? Was it a matter of technology, a breakthrough in quirk alteration he only recently was able to make? Or was it something else? Was there something bigger going on here? 

What was he not telling you all?

Shigaraki looked down at you, giving that flat expression of his that you knew translated to concern. You looked up from your locked hands to meet his gaze. He stared into you, those deep pools of carmine that stood so hard against the rest of the world, now soft and imploring. Even more than they were for the League. This look was for you.

“Tomura—”

“It’s gonna be worth it.”

You paused, that newfound calm confidence in his voice silencing you in an instant.

“I know these next four months are gonna be hard for all of us. This war is gonna be hard for all of us,” he said, turning to stare back up at the stars, “But it’s all going to be worth it in the end. We’re gonna make a new world where you’re all able to live as you want to. To be free. And this power that the Doctor is giving me... That’s going to assure that it all happens.”

“And… You don’t think that you can do all that now?” you breathed, “You’ve gotten so strong already, Tomura. Maybe you don’t even need that power.”

He turned back to you with a small but sincere smile. The one that betrayed that deep down tenderness he always tried so earnestly to hide. That called his bluff, revealing that there were feelings other than hate in that cursed body of his.

The one that made your heart skip a beat.

“I don’t want to take any chances,” he said, bringing his free hand — all five fingers — to rest on your cheek, “Not when it comes to my comrades’ dreams.”

Not when it comes to you .

Those unspoken words were loud and clear.

You swallowed something tight in your throat, fighting the burn that threatened to overflow from your eyes, the worry that brawled to burst out from your chest and ruin everything. But you had no choice but to shove it all down.

Forcing a smile onto your face, you squeezed his hand tight.

“I understand.”

His own smile remained the same, although a bit of relief did seem to fall over his eyes. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your temple and stayed there, breathing as much of you in as he possibly could.

Shigaraki had made up his mind. He was going to go through with this. And there was nothing you could say, no concern you could voice or ultimatum you could give that would change his mind. This decision was beyond his own wants and dreams at this point. It was for something far more important to him, even if he’d never admit it.

This was for all of you.

And who were you to stand in the way of that?

The fears wouldn’t ease with time, the nagging in the back of your head wouldn’t be forgotten through training or planning or anything else that you could do in the next four months to try and drown it out. But you just had to suck it up. You had to support him.

You could talk about your fears and the Doctor and any secret ambitions he may have after this ordeal. After the war even. You could talk about anything then, really. It was only four months after all. 

And the two of you would soon have all the time in the world.

#TOMURA SHIRAGAKI #TOMURA SHIGARAKI X READER #TOMURA SHIGARAKI X OC #SHIGARAKI #TOMURA SHIGARAKI #BNHA SHIGARAKI #MHA SHIGARKI #SHIGARAKI FANFIC #READER INSERT #SMUT #SHIGARAKI SMUT #SPICE WRITES #MHA #BNHA #MHA SMUT #BNHA SMUT #league of villains #mha spoilers #bnha spoilers

[thewriters-world]

Omg yes!! I saw a poll on what would be a better Hollywood movie rosquez or brocedes

And I was like hands down brocedes, because that's Monaco & Ibiza, a neat little story of growing up, growing apart, giving up on shared dreams. All the glitz and glamour. The way Nico keeps saying nice things and Lewis keeping his silence. A bit of modicum.

Rosquez however could never be Hollywood, they are unhinged, they are gritty, down & dirty, blunt fingernails scrambling to hold on in dark alleyways, it's being on top of the world and seeing your end approaching you wrapped up in smooth golden muscle and a mouth that never ends, it's touching legends, getting on that pedestal and then being isolated on there by the very hands that welcomed you in, it's European art film that is full of shadows and long silences, things never said and hands reaching out too late, it's his voice whispering everytime you fall, it's seeing him in every rider, knowing he would be crazier, faster, fiercer.

Brocedes could have survived if they were less ambitious/less greedy/less driven than they were, Rosquez never had an option because the things that drew them together are the things that they despise about each other.

OP YOUR VISION!

You've described rosquez so perfectly. They're like ruined somehow. Like Marc has his claws in Valentino and Valentino has his claws in Marc and yh they've let go but their bodies, brains HEARTS are still bloody and bruised. Lewis and Nico are healing but will Marc and Valentino ever heal? Idk Valentino says it'll take him 30 years to get over this and Marc says reconciliation is not upto him. So will they be tainted with marks of each other for 30 years? Does everything become more sullied when you remember that Marc had hung posters of Valentino on his bedroom wall and was buying replica bikes until 2015? Is it more cruel that Valentino knew all of this and not only did he do what he did to Marc when he was 22, he denied Marc a concrete part of his personality by saying he doesn't belive Marc had those posters (it's been documented you senile old man!). He basically said I don't know you, I never knew you. Is this all way more horrid when you consider that Marc thought getting into motogp with his idol would mean that Valentino actually KNEW him and they could be friends and then Valentino throws it right back into his face 'I want to see those posters' (I've never known you, I've never looked at those pictures of young you with my motorbikes, I've never paid attention, whilst you devoted your whole life to my life, your life was simply a speck in the grand scheme of events that is my life). Obviously its not true, it's a way to hurt Marc (we all know Valentino actually LIKED marc). But doesn't that make it all the more cruel, you treated someone you actually had affection for like this. Also is it more hurtful when you remember that Valentino told Marc ill protect you from these people if they're mean to you just let me know (not verbatim) but you're the meanie Valentino so now who does Marc go to. The people you turned against him?

Brocedes is way more tame bcs there was no idolisation, sure there was friendship, affection and childlike hope, but never once did Nico and Lewis decide that they didn't have what they had. Nico doesn't denounce the time they sat in hotel rooms and ate frosties, Lewis doesn't hide the fact that karting with Nico provided him joy as a child. Lewis can say Nico isn't his friend, but he hasn't ever said 'I've never known Nico' even when Nico acts a fool whilst commentating on races just to get his attention Lewis wouldn't be so cruel to deny ever having a relationship with Nico. Nico and Lewis are connected in a more concrete and wholesome way (Lewis gives Nico's daughters gifts). Marc and Valentino are connected in a more brutal way (they still have the bruises, the bleeding wounds of whatever they had with one another, friendship, affection companionship idk). That's the only similarity, they are still connected, their legacies are interspersed with one another. Something about how Lewis was there for nicos first and last podium. Something about how everywhere Marc goes, he is haunted by how Valentino has painted him to other people. Even in the one similarity between brocedes and rosquez you can see the abject dirtiness of rosqiez and the wholesomeness of brocedes.

#motogp rpf #valentino rossi #marc marquez #rosquez #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #brocedes

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 8 - Born with a weak heart

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Just smut! a smidge of reader insecurity

I'm back! Onto the smut. I'm sure this new arrangement won't come back to bite anyone in the ass...

(gif doesn't represent how reader looks)

The make-out session continued, at some point Bucky even managed to unhook your bra without you noticing until your straps began falling down your shoulders.

You gave him a little teasing smack on the chest as you continued to kiss him. “Bad boy,” you whispered as you struck him lightly.

“You know full well saying stuff like that is only going to encourage me,” he grinned devilishly as he pulled you into him and deepened the kiss.

“Friends don’t do this…” you protested futilely as he began to kiss the column of your neck.

“I dunno…this feels pretty friendly to me,” he chuckled as you could practically feel his wicked smile against your skin.

Every red flag was waving, every warning deep in your gut was screaming at you, but you were unable to stop. He was like a drug, and you couldn’t resist coming back for another hit. You told yourself it would be fine…after all, this was the perfect solution, right? No attachments…no drama…just a little fun while you were in town. That’s all.

Right?

As your inner monologue spiralled and you tried to (unconvincingly) assure yourself you had everything in hand, Bucky surprised you by picking you and raising you above him. You squawked at the sudden change of pace as he manoeuvred himself out of the passenger seat and into the driver’s, placing you down in the passenger seat where he’d been. He grabbed the keys and nonchalantly tossed them from one hand to the other, then started the engine.

“Bucky…what the f-,” you scoffed in disbelief.

“Taking you to my place,” he replied cutting you off as he began reversing out of the lot, his hand pressed against your headrest as he looked over his shoulder.

“Excuse me??” you replied shrilly.

“What? We can go to your place if you like…just figured it might be weird as it’s your grandma’s and all”.

“Very presumptuous to assume I want to go back to either,” you jibed.

He shrugged as he pulled out onto the road. “Do you not…?”

“…I mean I do. Yeah. But I don’t like you assuming,” you admitted stubbornly. “…And I didn’t give you permission to drive Sally”.

“I’m a very careful driver. And Sally is fine with it, aren’t you girl?” he cooed as he patted the dash.

You looked over at him from and could see he was grinning. Like the cat who got the damn cream.

“Fine,” you sighed, admitting defeat. “But your place better be nice. I have standards, you know”.

“Of course, Sugar. Don’t you worry, you’ll get the full VIP treatment. Guest of honour”.

*

Twenty minutes later you found yourself on Bucky’s bed, your shirt buttons undone and your jeans half off.

It had all happened so fast.

He had driven you back to his place (in your car) and practically ripped you through the front door. Turns out he had an apartment above the auto shop the MC owned. It was…surprisingly nice. You had expected half empty beer bottles and motorcycle grease…but it was…neat. Monochromatic furnishings and stripped back wooden floors. Nicely framed bike prints adorned the walls. As long as you didn’t think about how many girls had likely crossed that same threshold…it was pleasant.

“Don’t look so surprised, Sug,” he had ribbed as you took in the space. “I’m not some frat boy. I take care of my things”.

“Is that so?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow as his hand found your lower back.

“Oh yes,” he purred as he pulled you into him. “I’m very much a man, not a boy”.

“Big boy, huh?” you giggled as that dangerous mouth of his moved to your ear.

“You’ll find out…”

And then your earlobe was between his teeth, and suddenly you were both on his bed and both his and your jeans had been unzipped. And you knew it would all come back to bite you hard in the ass - but you were unable to swim against the current, so you just let yourself drift with the stream.

He yanked at your top, pulling it over your head and discarding it onto the floor. Your bra quickly followed suit and he took a second to admire your now revealed breasts, looking at them with a degree of awe as you felt your face flush at the intensity of his attention. You instinctively went to cover them with your hands, not used to being looked at like that, but he frowned and ripped your fingers away as if you’d greatly insulted him. He took one of your breasts in his mouth and gently the caressed the other with his hand, and you laid back and mewed as his tongue danced along the bud of your nipple.

“Beautiful,” he muttered as he kissed you on the mouth once more.

As the two of you kissed you tugged on his t-shirt, signalling that you wanted it off. He enthusiastically obliged and you helped him pull it over his head. You nearly gasped at the sight of his bare chest, taut and wide and impossibly sculpted. An MC tattoo adorned one of his pecs. He watched your face carefully as you soon found the scar tissue where flesh met metal, a stark reminder of his trauma and his past. You thought you saw a moment of anxiety in his otherwise ravenous eyes. Unflinchingly, you ran your fingers over the still-angry red welts where they jarringly swam into metal. You tenderly kissed the scars and across the cool steel and turned your face back to his.

“So are you”.

That glimpse of apprehension in his eyes or whatever it was suddenly disappeared forever. He smiled, and suddenly he was the same cocky Bucky he always was. He pulled you back down to the mattress and you revelled in the sensation of his warm skin against yours as your breasts pressed against his chest. He shimmied your jeans off and peppered your thighs with butterfly kisses as you wriggled and pushed against the sheets.

“You still good?” he asked inquisitively as his fingers wrapped around the sides of your underwear. You looked up at him and nodded eagerly with your consent, causing him to grin and pull the fabric down past your ankles – carelessly throwing into the pile of everything else he’d removed from you.

You didn’t have much time to react before he buried his face between your legs and unleashed his tongue. You squeaked and writhed at the sensation, instinctively pulling back, but he merely tightened his hold on your thighs and pulled you closer against him. You were unable to contain the embarrassing squeal you let out when he found your clit, circling his fingertip in your essence and exploring every part of you. He slowly added a finger inside of you and sent you dizzy. As he lapped at you greedily, you threw yourself back against the pillows and closed your eyes. Your hands fisted the sheets as you bit your lip, everything going a bit fuzzy as your muscles started to slacken and sag one by one. You realised you were making whimpering noises, but they seemed far away – as if in a different room.

You felt yourself near closer and closer to the precipice as he began to vary the pressure and speed, humming triumphantly as he took you apart. Bastard. He was enjoying this. If you had the strength to look up, you knew you’d see him thrilled to reduce you to a gibbering wreck.

He added a second finger and that seemed to erase any final coherence you held. Your climax hit you fast and you cried out as your head rocked against the pillows, pitifully gyrating against his hand as you bathed in the warmth of the sensation. He quickly moved his face away from between your legs as he continued to work you over with his fingers, unable to resist enjoying your orgasm along with you as he aligned his hips with yours and pressed himself into you – his jeans still halfway down his thighs. Through your haze you felt the outline of him through his boxers, sending an urgent siren into the lizard part of your brain, you needed this man badly. He was all you needed. He kissed you sloppily, the sheer lewdness of your climax still dusted across his lips causing another aftershock as everything stilled and slowed.

Panting vigorously, you sat up, but he gently pulled you back down.

“Easy, tiger,” he grinned as he pulled you against him, “no sudden movements”.

You rolled your eyes but were quietly grateful for the reprieve. “Oh hush,” you chided, “let’s dial the ego down a little…”

He smirked and kissed your cheek, holding you in his arms and pulling you flush against him as you laid together. The two of you were still, serene, and for a moment you weren’t just two ‘friends’ unable to deny your physical chemistry. No, this felt intimate. Close. You traced a finger down the side of his face, carefully exploring his features, his freckles, his scars. Memorising it all as if you’d need it for later. He watched you intently and did the same to you, the stark frigidity of his metal digit a contrast to your flushed skin. Nothing was spoken, but nothing needed to be.

You found yourself lost in those cerulean eyes of his. It was almost…soothing. You weren’t thinking about Granny, or the house, or your grief. You weren’t agonising about where you stood with Bucky or what you ‘were’ together. You weren’t preparing your next quip or jibe for him. You were just existing quietly. It had been so long since the buzzing noise in your head was quiet. You’d almost forgotten what it felt like to feel peace.

It seemed to happen both quickly and slowly at the same time. He moved on top of you as he continued to smother you with kisses, no inch of your body untouched. Suddenly he was between your thighs, his jeans discarded. You moved to place your hand inside his boxers, but he caught it and gruffly whispered, “another time,” as he moved your hand back down, “I can’t wait any longer” he told you with urgency. He parted your thighs and then he was between them as he rustled his underwear off, he gave you another deep kiss as he gradually pushed himself inside. You gasped at the feel of him, his size and his fullness a shock (despite your suspicions…) He held you tightly but moved gently, muttering whispers of praise and admiration for you as he sheathed himself entirely inside you. You’re beautiful. You’re perfect. You look like an angel like this.

His nose met yours and he scrutinised your face carefully to ensure you were on board. Then he began to thrust…slowly at first but building his strokes up to a faster tempo as you bucked your hips in time with his. You gasped and sighed and moaned as he moved, and he greedily devoured each sound you made as he shared his own with you in return. It became more frantic, hands tangled in hair, fingernails scraped down backs, saliva glistening on skin. You shifted and turned him, moving so that you were in his lap while he was still seated inside. He smirked at your initiative and his hands gripped your waist. One hot, one cold. You began to bounce, building and building as you huffed and mewled. He aided the rhythm by moving your waist in time to your tempo, but let you set the pace and conduct. It all felt so good. So right. You were on fire but in the best possible way. You didn’t care how your body might look, if you might be sweating or what kind of noises or facial expressions you might be making. Nothing mattered except how it felt and being in this moment with him.

You came hard, digging your fingers almost brutally into his shoulders as you closed your eyes and let out a low moan. He joined you, his forehead against your chin as he groaned against your neck. His hips stuttered as you felt the warmth of his release fill you, vulgar but so desperately needed.

You both stayed as you were for a moment, regaining your bearings and letting your heavy breaths plateau. He tilted your head with his finger and gave you a kiss so tender and chaste you could almost forget you were dripping with his spend. He looked up at you and smiled.

“I’m glad I hired you…”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #this must be the place fic #biker!bucky #motorcycle club au bucky

[wolfstarlibrarian]

Hello light of my life (seriously you improve it daily with recs)

Im after basically any fic with a vampire Sirius (I actually saw some vampire Sirius and cowboy Remus art so if that exists I’d like to know). I also have a vague memory of a fic with vamp Sirius as Remus’ roommate?

Oh you're making me blush! 😳 But thank you so much for the love. It really means a lot. ❤️ And yes! The Librarian has a older list of Vampire fics as well as a bunch of new ones (including the one you mentioned). Hope you have a bloody good time reading them.

Vampire Sirius 1

Vampire RS 2

My Roommate is a Vampire by @moonyverse “Remus! Why didn’t you tell me?” Lily asks. He continues wiping, focussing on a particularly stubborn stain. “Tell you what?” “About your secret boyfriend.” Remus spins around. “My what?” “Don’t act so surprised. Your neck is covered in hickeys and you thought I wouldn’t notice?” "Er, yeah… sorry." Remus wracks his brain to think of an excuse. Anything but the truth. He sputters out a lie, "It was a one-time thing, is all." It was better than telling her his roommate is a vampire whom he lets take his blood on a biweekly basis.

I Don't Bite by @mooncat457writing Halloween was Sirius Black’s favorite holiday. He loved every part, from planning the perfect costume to throwing the kick-ass party that everyone would talk about for weeks to come. Okay, and sure, maybe the irresistible curly-haired, green-eyed cutie dressed as a werewolf that just walked through his front door didn’t hurt either.

A Taste of Your Love by starsnsoul the one where Sirius is a vampire and Remus a cowboy and they fall in love: “It’s dangerous out here at night,” Remus wet his lips, suddenly aware of how dry they were, “and we’re quite far from the nearest town.” The man in front of him continued to gaze up at him, eyes twinkling with a dangerous look, seeming to dare him to ask risky questions, to probe and let curiosity kill the cat. “What’s your name?” he asked, feigning ignorance to Remus’ concern. “Remus.” He answered without a second thought to who he was telling this to, something about the other man made him want to lay himself out bare, secret’s spilling out into the night air, all the good and the ugly. Something about the other man was dangerous but Remus felt the blood in his veins ignite at the thought. “Remus,” the man with eyes like the moon whispered, “I’m Sirius.”

A House by the Sea by @lurikko The wizarding world is on the brink of a war, Sirius is the heir of the House Black, and Remus is a vampire.

I'm starving, darling. by @marigoldwrites-blog

Remus is accosted by a vampire on his way home. Strange in itself. But when the vampire realises he has anaemia, he starts bringing him food. And medication. And nice little treats to make him feel better. And - well. Remus never claimed to be a man of strong convictions.

all the hot singles in your area are dead by atropos_aeneas The first vampire who comes to campus is annoying. The second one is an unwelcome, if begrudgingly pleasant, surprise. The third, fourth, and fifth vampires, on the other hand…No matter. Remus has been alive far, far too long to have his resolve broken on behalf of someone like Sirius Black.

To see more recs, join the WolfstarLibrarian on TikTok

#wolfstar #remus x sirius #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar fic recs #marauders #mwpp #hp fanfic

[gloomwitchwrites]

You get drunk and don't remember giving them a hickey. So you get mad at them.

Oh, anon! I love love love this prompt. Even though the prompt itself is fairly straightforward, there is some wiggle room about how this could play out. I stuck to the prompt but did my best to keep them on the shorter side.

Some of these get spicy but don't fall into graphic detail.

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, arguing, sexual tension, kissing, alcohol

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“These reports are shit, Price. What am I supposed to do with them?”

You’re trying your best not to sound irritated, but your head is pounding. You agreed to go out for drinks but told yourself you wouldn’t have more than one or two. That went completely out the door when multiple people began paying for rounds. After the fourth, the night started to come blurry. Not all the pieces are there.

Of what you can recall from last night, you remember that you sat in a man’s lap. Well—sat isn’t the correct word. More like straddled. You remember strong arms, an accent, and an excitement in what you were doing. But the face is still foggy.

“What you always do,” replies Price. There’s a tease in his tone you don’t particularly like. It’s too friendly, and it stirs something fierce inside your belly.

Price shifts in his chair behind his desk, the collar of his jacket flops open slightly. You catch a hint of something dark on the side of Price’s neck. You frown, your rebuttal gone.

“What is that?” You nod toward his throat.

Price leans back. “What?” he asks. “This?” He reaches up, pulling back on the collar.

It’s a…oh fuck.

“You were happy to give it to me.” Price shrugs.

Fuck.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, tossing the manila file folder on Price’s desk.

The man you straddled last night was Price? The man who is always fucking up reports and ignoring all your suggestions for corrections? That one?

“You looked good doing it, too,” he continues, that teasing smile falling into a comfortability of a lover.

No. No no no.

You place your hands on your hips. “And you let me do that?”

Price shrugs. “We’re consenting adults.”

“I was drunk.”

Price crosses his arms over his chest. “We were both drunk. And you’re the one who pounced on me.”

Embarrassment rises hot and wild in your cheeks. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“You did,” he confirms, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as he smirks. “Ambushed me actually.”

“Then why didn’t you stop me?” Your voice cracks, going a bit high.

“I tried.”

That’s almost worse. You jumped him and then sucked on his neck until it left a mark. What an absolute fucking mess.

You roll your eyes. “You tried? A big strong man like you couldn’t stop me?”

This time Price is the one rolling his eyes. He makes an irritated groan. Price pushes up from his chair, one hand waving out in front of him as he speaks. “You said you’d been thinking about me.”

It’s not entirely untrue. While you attend the clerical side of things, you do make excuses to come see Price. He’s older. Handsome. Assertive. His reports aren’t always shit but it’s the only reason you have to bother him.

“I didn’t mean it,” you reply but even you don’t believe it.

Price comes around the desk and steps into your space. “Really?”

You square your shoulders, staring into Price’s face. “Really.”

He shakes his head, clearly not believing you at all. “As I recall, you were in my lap. Practically begging.”

“And you allowed that? In front of everyone?” Even Price couldn’t be that careless.

This time, Price smiles like he knows something you don’t. “You don’t remember.”

“What?” you ask, flustered.

Price starts laughing, but it’s not mocking, more like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“John,” you snap.

Price sinks down into his chair, legs spread wide. “I think I liked it better when you said my name while seated in my lap.”

Your fingers dig into the top of Price’s desk. Pieces begin to return. Fragments of you squirming in his lap. Lips pressed against his.

“How did you say it?” he ponders, almost aloud rather than to you. Then, he smiles, not even answering his own question.

Price rests his palm on his thigh and your gaze drops to its subtle movement before returning to his face.

“Think I’d like a matching one,” he says. He runs his hand down his thigh and then back up. “Or I could give you one just like it.”

“John,” you murmur, not knowing what it is you want to say.

“Doesn’t have to be on your neck,” and his voice is nearly a growl. Price lightly squeezes his thigh and you know exactly where he’s referring to. “Be easier if you sit on the desk.”

You snatch up the folder on Price’s desk, clutching it like a shield against your chest. Price doesn’t even blink. Doesn’t appear fazed at all. Stomping over you shove it against his chest, intending to walk right out the door.

But Price is quick.

With one hand he’s clutching the file and with the other he grabs your wrist before you manage to move away.

“Remove your hand,” you say but there is no venom in it.

Price’s gaze lingers on your lips before shifting up to meet your eyes. “Come back when you know what you want.”

Price releases you, and you nearly stumble forward into his lap. Catching yourself on the edge of his desk, you spin on your heel, exiting Price’s office as the final fragments of memory fall into place.

You don’t want to admit it.

Not out loud. Not yet.

But you will be back.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

It’s unbelievable. Unfathomable.

You’re not angry with Kyle. You’re upset with yourself. You’re upset that you were so careless about how many drinks you had, and how you couldn’t control yourself in the moment. Kyle is not a liar, and he doesn’t take advantage, so whatever you did, is on you.

“I’m sorry,” you say, swallowing down some of the rising irritation. “It’s my fault.”

Kyle shrugs, a sheepish smile on his face. “Not like I pushed you away.”

“That doesn’t matter,” you insist, flinging your arms out in exasperation, nearly knocking over bottles of cleaner.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, catching one of them before it hits the floor.

This little storage room isn’t big enough for this. You need space. You need to run far away from here and pretend like last night didn’t happen. Not that you can remember all of it. You don’t recall giving Kyle that mark on his neck.

“It does matter. We both had too much but I still had more of my head than you did.” Kyle places the bottle of cleaner back on the shelf. “I should’ve done better.”

“We’re coworkers, Kyle. And I had no right. We aren’t together.”

Kyle smirks and you want to smack it right off his face. “We could be,” he murmurs, taking a step forward.

“Absolutely not,” you retort but you don’t retreat.

Kyle’s smirk faulters a bit but he doesn’t shrink away. If anything, he looks more determined, like the rejection is a farce.

“You remember anything you said to me last night?”

You lick your lips and cross your arms defensively over your chest. “Even if I did, does it change anything?”

Kyle sighs and runs his hand over the top of his head. “It does for me.”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you consider your options. Kyle is a sweet man, at least to you. Everyone always comments on it to you when he isn’t around, and you’ve always dismissed their observations.

Maybe he does care, and you doing this tipped him over the edge into a place neither of you might be able to come back from.

“I need some fucking air,” you mutter, wanting to escape this situation, even for a bit.

Kyle shoves forward, blocking the door. Your lips move, forming the shapes of words, but Kyle shakes his head, all seriousness.

“We need to talk about this.”

“We don’t need to talk about anything,” you snap.

Kyle’s eyebrows rise toward his hairline and his head tips slightly to the side, revealing more of the mark. “Everyone knows what happened.”

“What?” you breathe.

“We weren’t alone when you straddled me.” You’re too stunned to speak. All the words you want to say are gone. Lost to the void that is your mind.

Kyle sighs and leans against the door. “Soap got a great view.”

“Stop talking. Just—stop.” Your throw up your hands and Kyle does as you ask. “You are going to move out of my way. I am going to leave. And we won’t talk about this again.”

Kyle only stares, the silence stretching.

When you think he won’t give in, Kyle shifts to his left, leaving the door completely clear. Without taking a second to reconsider, you push open the the door, nearly running over Soap in the process.

He stumbles backward, cheeks bright red. Ghost is next to him, arms crossed, staring at the wall like he isn’t there at all.

Soap’s brief fluster turns into a wide, knowing grin. “Gaz give you a matching one?” he teases.

Ghost makes a noise that sounds like a snort.

“Both of you can fuck off.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“Ghost.”

“What?” he grunts, side-eyeing you before returning his attention back to the tablet in his hand. He absently rubs at his neck for the third time in the last few minutes.

You frown. “Are you injured?”

“Why would you think that?” he asks, tapping at something on the screen.

“You keep rubbing your neck.”

Ghost pauses, his finger hovering just above the screen as he turns slightly in your direction.

You’re not trying to be pushy or nosy. Ghosts hates that. But there’s something wrong, and you care enough to ask him about it.

“You know what’s on my neck,” he replies cooly.

“No. I don’t.” A swirling fracture of unease blooms in your belly. It curls outward to claw up your throat. “What are you talking about?”

Ghost’s hand holding the tablet drops to his side. With one gloved hand, he reaches up, tugging the neckline of his jacket down enough to reveal a portion of his throat. The mask he always wears is in the way, but you reach out with a tentative hand, brushing the fabric upward to reveal a mouth-shaped bruise.

You drop your hand and take a step back. “Why would I know anything about that?”

“You gave it to me,” he says, matter of fact.

Sure, you had a few drinks last night, but did you really have that many? Enough that you can’t recall giving Ghost a goddamn hickey.

“You’re mistaken.”

“Never wrong, love.” Ghost locks the tablet and places it on the table next to him. “Especially about a woman sitting in my lap.”

“Don’t,” you say sharply. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“It’s not.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, hips adjusting slightly as he pivots to glare down at you. “Try again.”

A deep rush of embarrassment floods your system, curling up your neck to heat your cheeks. “I wouldn’t.”

“You did,” insists Ghost. You glance down at the floor, unable to meet his gaze. Perhaps you had one too many. Sometimes you can hold your alcohol but clearly not. At least not last night.

You clear your throat. “I’m sorry.” An apology is best. You have no idea how Ghost feels about you, but you are irritated that he didn’t try to stop the whole thing in the first place.

Ghost is silent a long moment. “I’m not.” Your head snaps up, but Ghost isn’t done. “I liked it. And you enjoyed giving it to me.”

You need the pieces to fall back into place. You need to remember. Because right now, you’re just confused, and Ghost’s behavior is entirely different from his usual demeanor.

“You don’t know that.”

Ghost shrugs. “I do.”

His certainty is confusing. Ghost is not a liar. He is always truthful, always to the point, even if his bluntness comes across as rude. And that’s what so frustrating about it all because you know that Ghost is right. You probably did like it, probably begged and writhed in his lap. Ghost wouldn’t lie about something like that, but he would tease you. Might even hold it over your head.

“This conversation is over.” You step around him to grab the tablet, but Ghost is quick like a viper, his large hand encasing your wrist.

“Do you remember?”

No. I don’t.

“It doesn’t matter.” You try to tug your wrist out of his grasp, but Ghost holds firm.

“When you’re ready. Find me.” He leans forward, masked face nearly touching the side of your cheek. “We’ll recreate it.”

Then his hand is gone, and Ghost is pulling away, presenting the tablet to you like he didn’t say anything at all.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“What the fuck is that?”

Soap’s brilliant smile turns in your direction. He sits on the seat of a bench press, elbows resting on knees, sweat dripping from his brow. Soap is shirtless and a white towel is draped over the back of his neck.

Reaching up with the edge of the towel, Soap wipes away some of the sweat on his face. “What are you on about?” He adjusts his stance, his large palm pressing into his knee as he leans on an elbow.

The small gym isn’t crowded but there are people here. Some of them turn and glance in your direction but otherwise keep to their business. Ghost and Gaz are over by the boxing ring observing a few new recruits who slug it out for bragging rights.

Is Soap so aloof? Does he not see the massive mark on the side of his neck? And who gave it to him? A group of you went out for drinks but you don’t recall who might have given it to him or when.

You step closer, lowering your voice. “Your neck, Johnny.”

That gorgeous smile of his widens and he chuckles. “Did you forget?”

Did you forget? Forget what? Are you part of this?

You swallow, the salvia nearly sticking in your throat as you try to calm your thudding heart. “What do you mean?”

Soap leans back a bit, observing you. “You gave this to me.” His voice is too loud, and you glance over your shoulder to make sure no one’s heard. Everyone appears to be preoccupied with the recruits in the ring.

“I didn’t,” you insist, turning back to him. “I’d remember.”

Soap guffaws and removes the towel from around his neck. “Took a seat right here.” He indicates the spot by tapping his left thigh.

“Did we…” you begin, and then trail off.

“Did we what?” he prompts, clearly enjoying this.

You bend forward, lowering your voice until it’s a hiss. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Soap smirks, and then rises to his full height. “Promise I was a perfect gentleman.” He matches your movement, leaning in so that your faces are close. “But you? You were no lady.”

You inhale sharply, and Soap pushes right past you, heading for the showers.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving

@childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666

@unhinged-reader-36 @pearljamislife @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath

@enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu

@thewulf @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos

@enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project

@burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @contractedcriteria

@lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

@tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior @dakotakazansky

@hantheconqueror

#task force 141 #task force 141 imagine #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 fanfiction #task force 141 fanfic #task force 141 fic #task force 141 fluff #task force 141 smut #task force 141 x female reader #task force 141 x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley cod #ghost x you #ghost x reader #john price x reader #john price cod #ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #soap mw2 #soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mactavish fanfic #gaz call of duty #gaz cod #gaz fanfic #gaz imagine #gaz x reader #cod fanfiction

[queerly-done]

So my opinions on all the Dead Boy Detective/DBDA Characters

All of these are opinions as someone who has watched the show a few times now and also the Doom Patrol episode and I’ll give my opinions on the Doom Patrol versions at the end.

Spoilers for Dead Boy Detectives Show. And Doom Patrol season 3 ep. 3 and that episode alone

Charles Rowland

- Charles is such a sweetheart I love him. He’s always looking out for his friends and literally went to hell for Edwin, and kicked the Night Nurse for him. I just love him so much.

- I felt so bad for him in episode one when he says his dad, “wasn’t the nicest guy,” and in episode three when we see him break being forced to see a father k!ll his family over. I was actually crying with him saying he doesn’t “want to be a bad guy”! It broke me so badly, the abuse he went through and the fear he’ll become like his abusers is a very real thing and to see a character go through that makes the story feel more real, and makes me more sad. He could use some therapy.

- Him being the “brawn” of the team is pretty funny to me but thats most because if you watch the cast interactions you’ll see what I mean.

- All in all, I love him. He is loving, protective, loyal and has golden retriever with attachment issues energy mixed with scary dog privilege but the dog isn’t scary unless provoked.

Edwin Paine/Payne

- Adorable, get him some therapy please! He needs it! Man was so repressed for the first part of this show I thought I’d die before he confessed. But I don’t blame him honestly, his death was traumatic and being called a “Mary Ann” whilst being sacrificed likely would put a bad taste in your mouth about the idea of you being queer in any way shape or form. I am so proud of him good job!

- Honestly he just makes me so happy, and I love how he interacts with everyone and grows!

Crystal Palace

- I love her she is so bad ass and I hope wish the best for her

- She needs better taste in men, my suggestion date women

- I want to see a little more of her Nepo baby side of her past cause clearly that was a thing

Niko Sasaki

- Sweetie! I miss her! She was the only other person other than Charles to get Edwin out of his shell and it hurts me so much to see her be gone. Her death will forever haunt me.

Cat King

- I love him so much, he is my favourite kind of not evil but not good guy the kind that plays a game with people by flirting! Ahhh I love him! I don’t love that he falls for Edwin(I’ll make a separate post on this issue)

- Anywho I still love him he gives off chaotic gender neutral vibes and the song Sex With a Ghost was made for him, I just love him!

Monty the Crow

- Monty I love you but don’t kiss people without consent!

- Honestly he was very important, and sweet he didn’t deserve all the pain he’s been through, may better things come his way.

Jenny the Butcher

- Badass. I love everything about her. Her style, the way she gives advice, yes I just love her so much. I want to see more of her.

- Her episode made me so sad for her ;-;

Esther Finch

- Honestly I love her as a villain she was so evil, and a genuine threat. She is also so hot and scary I just love her.

David the Demon

- A creep I didn’t like him, I don’t know what else you want?

Doom Patrol versions!

Charles Rowland

- He was so funny in this, I loved him. I love how the show conveyed a mutual interest from him to Edwin they are both just too dense to say anything about it. I also love that it seems the only thing he knows about America is that they like baseball.

- They did have to go off and hurt me with the fear of water scene, but he was so sweet protecting Edwin from the Night Nurse(who in this is just 10 times scarier)

Edwin Paine

- Him not getting anything about modern times and brushing off his feelings for Edwin was so well done! I love how he tells Larry he “isn’t like him” saying he isn’t queer and that if he were that would be bad, he says this all in a very rude and brash tone and then proceeds to comfort Charles in the nicest to he is capable of.

- Beautiful 10/10

Crystal Palace

- Boss ass Bitch, girl boss. 8/10 I love her but no real opinions yet that is I may go back one day and edit this for her

I hope you liked this dumb post :3

#i’m hyperfixating #dead boy detectives #dead married couple on acid #dead boy detective netflix #dead boy detective agency #dbda #watch dbda #text post #my post #charles rowland #edwin paine #edwin payne #crystal palace #dead boy detectives doom patrol #niko sasaki #monty the crow #cat king #esther finch #jenny the butcher #david the demon #opinions on characters #i just wanted to post something #this was longer than i expected #this is subject to change #this show is so good #this show has taken over my life #this show has me in a chokehold #this is actually something my diagnosed ADHD has decided is the most important thing in my life and the reason to wake up in the morning

[plumadot]

Hopefully you can find it, I dont think there's many playlists on spotify called "Bard Scar". I hope you don't mind me using your art for the cover, I'll change it immediately if you do mind!

And please let me know what you think of the song selection 0v0

I FOUND IT. AND LISTENED TO THEM ALL (and using the art is fine!!!!!!!!!! <3)

gfjdkgjfdkg ok hmmmmmm

i really like "burn butcher burn" on this. because at the start i was like "this is to the secret keeper". but it's not. it's to his former self. he wants to burn that "persona" because he's someone different now. and if that person ever comes back he'll ruin everything. that's what i think now and it gave me chills hehe

"city of stars" but it's the city of boatem gkfdjgkf some place where they all wanted to make it big, but it just didn't work out that way... and they found home in each other instead. and maybe they can work with that!!!!! for a while...

"don't you dare" is so interesting because. objectively this should be a thing. but i don't think he sees grian this way!!!! he genuinely wants to get closer to this lit fuse of a guy kgjfdkgjf he doesn't care about getting hurt very much. though this could be a thing after he's spilled his secrets and thinks he's lost his partner because of it kgjfdkgj anyway i like it hehe

"noel's lament" is interesting because i like the over-all sentiment kgjfdkgj "i choose to burn out rather than fade away" nods nods nods this bard desperately wants to mean something

"everything i ever thought" is so GOOD gfdkjgkfdg "i wonder who i am" nfgdskjjsfkg baaaaaaaah idk what to say very very good also a good bard song in general i think hehe

BATTLE CRYYYYY,,,,,,, shakes you!!!!!!!! this is the answer to "i wonder who i am", the "i choose to burn out rather than fade away"!!!!!! it's all coming together!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he's going to give it his all because that's who he is!!!!!! i keep thinking about laudna from critical role campaign 3 saying something like "the worst thing that'll ever happen to me has already happened" and i think scar has a similar mindset to that. his world has already fallen apart in the strangest way so he'd better try his best as a whole new person!!!!! and he loves his guys very very much

"allies or enemies" hehe are we fighting i guess we're fighting gkfjdgkf it's honestly just a matter of time before things fall apart between all of them (not just with grian) gkfjdkg they have very different goals and mindsets and backgrounds and even though they all care about each other they are very guarded. so i. i really like this one mhm

i'm not entirely sure why pike trickfoot is there but i super love pike so YAY

"ashes" is such a good tavern song i can totally see him performing it in between his merry repertoire and the whole tavern going quiet for it... because yeah... there's more to this free-spirited bard than meets the eye huh fjdkgjfd it's so interesting i really like it

TAVERN BRAWL GJFDKGJFDK YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES i wanna say this one is just for me i love vox machina gfjdkgjkf but YO this is such a good bard battle song in particular yes i love it

also i wanna say the amount of "can't help falling in love" is really funny because yes to me this man is a hopeless romantic in every sense of the word, not just romantic love. he has a romantic sentiment towards the world in general!!!!

SO YEAH. WHAT AN ESSAY I APOLOGIZE KGJFKDJG I HOPE YOU CAN SEE THAT I LOVE IT???? :D :D :D THANK YOU FOR THIS PLAYLIST AHHH IT'S SO FUN THANK YOU I HOPE YOU LIKE MY THOUGHTS TOO /sweats

#ask #plume dnd au #i just like having it in the tag i think

[beansterpie]

8, 11, 17, 18, 20, 24, 30 and 33 for fitzfool/fitzloved!

ty for the ask!

8.) What do they love most about the other? Why?

I think what Fitz loves most about his Beloved is his kindness <3 and also his playful/mischeviousness lol, or more like a combination of the two. Beloved often uses the latter to express the former, and I think he was such an important presence in Fitz childhood (and adulthood, once the Tawny Man triology comes around) for caring and fun, considering so many other people in his life were concerned with his usefulness.

And I think the Fool loves Fitz's big heart. He fucks up a lot and is like, one giant ball of bad trauma responses, but he cares really deeply about a lot of things, and he feels strongly. In a world that has been so callous to him, I think that appeals to the Fool a lot. His kindness is also another one-- I find that Fitz is a guy who has a lot of shitty kneejerk reactions, but then he tries to see things from different perspectives and attempts to be accomodating (often to a serious fault lol).

And of course their shared history is a big part of all this. They were bright spots in each other's lives when they were still too little to defend themselves from all the people that wanted to hurt them, and I can't really undermine how important those memories are to both of them.

11.) How do they feel about nicknames/pet names? If they like them, what pet names do they use? If they hate them, why do they feel that way?

Oh I think they'd both really like pet names lol. Casual ones like 'dear' or 'love' or 'sweetheart'. That being said, idk if they'd have anything more specific or unique that they consistently called each other, considering "Beloved" is such a Thing™ between them. I also really like the idea of Fitz eventually gifting the Fool with his own true name, "Keppit". Idk I think it would be a really meaningful gesture, and also it's a very cute name lol.

17.) How well do they communicate? Are they open with their feelings/thoughts or more reserved? Why?

I think once they like, get their heads out of their asses, and finally admit that they have romantic feelings for each other, and will prioritize each other over everyone else, then yeah! Of course, that's the Big Obstacle though, and we see what happens when they don't manage to convey that to each other (so many decades of misunderstandings and missed opportunities like LEGIT).

But if they managed to admit that to each other, then I think they would be able to communicate pretty well, because the Fool's belief that Fitz doesn't return his feelings/his feelings for Fitz would be a burden on him (Fitz) vs Fitz's inherent low self esteem and deep depression and trust issues and heteronormative expectations is what really causes their miscommunications.

18.) How do they care for each other when one of them is wounded/sick?

I think we've basically seen this on Fitz's end, since the Fool goes through periodic bouts of illness whenever he sheds his current skin. (I'm sure the very few non-RotE followers I have who are even reading this are going ????? at that, but I am being literal.) Anyway, when the Fool falls to fever in Assassin's Quest, from what I remember Fitz literally held him almost the entire time, and also had Nighteyes cuddle him from the other side, no? So yeah, I think Fitz would be extremely attentative, maybe to the point of being a bit stifling lol.

And the Fool would also be very attentative, but like, in a slightly more chill way. He'd have great bedside manner, is what I mean lol. Unless it was really serious-- then I think he'd be pretty frantic and quite fragile about the whole thing.

20.) How do they comfort each other when one of them is upset? Is this method of comfort effective?

If they're in a place where they're able to communicate better than in canon lol, like they have an established romantic relationship, then yeah I do think their ways of comforting each other would be effective. I think even in canon, when their communication leaves something to be desired, they're still (usually) a very comforting presence to one another!

And I think largely that would be sitting and listening with understanding. Which the Fool especially is already excellent at, it's Fitz who usually struggles not to get defensive or otherwise put his foot in his mouth lol.

24.) How do their personalities affect their relationship? Do their characteristics compliment each other, or clash often?

I think they compliment each other quite well, for the most part! I think Fitz runs the risk of being like, overly clingly sometimes lol. Which to be clear I think the Fool would like most of the time, but he's also someone who values freedom so if Fitz isn't able to be chill about it, it could become a problem. But the solution to that of course is for Fitz to realize that everything is ok, and This Good Thing isn't going to disappear from his life suddenly.

30.) What are their respective love languages? Do their love languages work well together?

Hmmmmm love languages..... I think acts of service is definitely one for Fitz, spending time together for both of them, words of affirmation for the Fool, as well as giving gifts (his carvings). Ngl I'm not well versed in the concept of specific love languages lol, but I do think they work well together!

33.) How do they flirt? Who’s the worse flirt?

I feel like their flirting would be a lot of coy looks across rooms and comments that don't make sense to anyone else, at least from the Fool's end. And I suppose that depends on their living situation lol. If they're at Buckkeep, then they really can't be public about their relationship (unless the Fool is living as Lady Amber, which would open things up a bit more, but even then propriety is quite important at court), but if they've moved away somewhere private where they can live however they want, then they'd be a lot more obvious about things.

------

Ty for the ask, sorry for the late response!

#anonymous #realm of the elderlings #fitzloved #fitzfool #ship ask game #oh wow i didn't realize how long this got #long post

[beanghostprincess]

It's so funny to see everyone in this fandom simping for either Sanji or Zoro when canonically the one with more rizz is quite definitely Usopp. The first thing Kaya says is that she wants to see Usopp. She laughs at his jokes kicking her feet, blushing, giggling. He has her down bad, guys. And it's not only the rizz, this guy has the biggest heart in the world. Kaya is better than me because I would be a stuttering, blushing mess around this guy.

#my lesbian ass reading one piece and falling for usopp is a tragedy honestly #but i mean if i have to fall for a man it better be him #also i might be ace but for this man i would do anything amen #anyway this is just me simping for usopp hours #one piece #usopp #kaya one piece #usokaya

[leatherbookmark]

our flag means death S2E3: the innkeeper

#our flag means death #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 spoilers #shrimp gifs #it was just a very pretty scene i think #i'm laughing because i played around with curves -- as you do -- but then i had to manually bring the brightness down and make everything #more blue again because it's just better that way lol #god i'm having... so many little marbles bouncing around my head like #this post is already tagged with all the spoiler tags i think i can talk in here #the way it started i had No Inkling At All that this would be this kind of setting. so i didn't pay attention to the surroundings or all th #stuff. hell i could barely hear what they're saying because all my fancy schmancy english skills fall apart in the face of your normal soun #mixing. I MISSED THAT IZ AND ED SAID “LOVE” LIKE HELLO #but. but anyway. but. but once it was revealed that This Is All In Ed's Head. that hornigold is ed and everything is ed. man. god. #it's cold and wet and dark (ed likes warmth). ed was washed up on the shore with his face full of sand but THEN he got rescued by someone #who he hated and associated with all the pain and violence AND who then force-fed him soup so he could get better. who had pretty pieces of #glass hanging from his tent (there's no sun but the decoration itself is a promise of a pretty sighs when the rays of the sun hit #just right--) AND you can't forget the sandals. and the play-acting and aoughhhh EEEDDDDDDDD god he's so good HE'S SO GOOD #i dont think i should touch the delightful revenge scenes because they're dark as fuck and idk if the files i have are hq enough #to survive the becurvening. BUT. ed my love!!! i hope this is not where your insanities end

[rainymoodlet]

Kiss Me in Komorebi+ 🌸

Ep. Eleven Outtakes!

I am severely upset with myself for not being able to work these two into the main post because they, imo, are even more cinematic and gorgeous!! But Suraj’s face in that last shot was just… heavenly.

@gothoffspring look @ our boys havin’ a lil shoujo moment like 🥹

[ 🌹 ]

#ts4 #ts4 screenshots #ts4 gameplay #ts4 challenge #ts4 bachelor challenge #;kmik #sim: daniel #suraj kennedy by gothoffspring #|| #KISS KISS FALL IN LO— (gunshot) #seriously ugh sakura petals make everything better dont tell me they dont bloom in autumn just shhh #shhhh #ugh these two have such gorgeous shots this is just… mwah #look at DANIEL JOSEPH TAYLOR II HERE MAN DAMN #i am so weak for him in that brown leather ugh #he and suraj are so interesting like - when i say they make each other nervous i mean like #they both feel incredibly hyperaware of themselves around the other #suraj talks a lot but it sometimes feels like nervous air-filling (the same way he #hedged in their beginning conversations and hence the reason #daniel asked him to ease up on himself @ their rose ceremony) #but daniel definitely still found himself staring at and smiling at suraj all damn day omg #suraj was definitely Into Him and their attraction to each other can’t be denied #but i’m intrigued to see where it will go 👀 #sorry my level of depth of analysis has been all over the place #i admit i’m scared to get too excited re: daithi bc you all know i love laur fhdhdh and fabian too so like #lori is my wife yes but ive just been like #typing tags while maintaining convo with my fiance abt some ww2 spyplane at the same time and its just VERY EXHAUSTING fjdjfj #i love u all 🙏🥰

[six-demon-bag]

#I have zero chill about this man #health bar should probably be at zero just for posting this #and making it #oh no #john walker defense squad #john walker #wyatt russell #tfatws #i love him #he deserves better #if you’re mean to him go fall in a ditch #sixdemon museum