#my vision back so it was so odd to me lol

[fettuccin-e]

Right Here, Right Now

Kinktober Day 2: Public

Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl omg please), public sex, fingering, its just desperate sex with Mig in an alleyway lol (w/c: 1.3K)

A/N: I have actually had this as a WIP for a long, long time but I modified it to fit this prompt! Glad to finally get some use out of it. Miguel can and will always have me in a chokehold I love him so so much. (I am following prompts from this list by flightlessangelwings!)

You’ve both been apart for too long, far too fucking long. Always away on missions without each other, falling asleep without each other and leaving again with only a quick kiss goodbye, nothing more.

It’s got Miguel a little stir crazy, desperate, and you’re just the same way. So, on the odd mission where you’re actually together, you don’t protest when he crowds you against a brick wall in some dark, dank alleyway, and kisses the god damn life out of you. It’s intoxicating, mind-melting, and fuck, it’s not enough for either of you. 

Miguel growls against your mouth, reaching a clawed hand to the seam of your suit, and rips it, exposing the wetness of your aching pussy to the cool night air. He cups you without any finesse, just pure need, and you gasp wetly into his kiss.

“Miguel,” you whine, but you can’t stop your hips from humping forward into his hand, “we can’t— we can’t, baby, they’re going to start looking for us, oh fuck, they’re gonna see—“

“Shh,” he coos, “just real quick, real quick, sweetheart.” His chest heaves, so broad and thick and clouding your vision as he rubs quick circles into your achy clit with a calloused finger.

“Just- just let me feel you, just for a second, please, baby, mi amor, por favor, tan perfecta, te necesito,” he mumbles, lost in it, and you find yourself nodding along with his words.

He whines at your permission, and you barely manage to utter a “just for a second, just a second, Miguel,” before his suit dissipates around the bulge of this thick cock, and he’s sinking into you, pressing so fucking deep he forces the air from your lungs.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes into the crook of your neck, his hips stuttering forward as he stretches your pussy around him. “There’s my perfect girl, my beautiful girl, fuck, fuck, missed this pussy so bad, baby.”

It’s hard to breathe like this, Miguel pressing you into the brick wall, curling around you until all you know is him. All you know is the way his scent invades your lungs, the way his fangs graze your throat just barely. The way he pulls his hips back, just a little bit, before shoving forward again, bullying his thick cock so fucking deep inside your little cunt. You can’t get out the words, the sensations all too much for you to bear. There hasn’t been any prep, anything to lead up to you taking Miguel like you usually do. 

No, there's only the adrenaline coursing through your bodies, the desperation stemming from being apart for far too long, and the ache of him settling deep, deep inside you. It’s where you both belong.

So you stutter out aborted little whines of “Mig- Miguel,” and “so-so big,” between overwhelmed sobs into his strong body as he holds you, impaling you on him again and again. He’s mumbling, incessant and slurred as he fucks you into the brick, something about how hot you are, how wet and tight and about how he can’t wait to get you home, how he’s going to fuck you for days. It’s all so hard to understand, you’re not even sure that Miguel knows what he’s saying, if he even wants you to hear all of the deep, dark thoughts spilling from his overwhelmed mouth.

Your body burns, the coarse hair at the base of his cock rubbing at your clit so perfect, so right. It’s all slick and wet and you’re sure that you’re dripping down his fat cock as it slides in and out of you, dripping down his balls. You can at least thank God that his suit isn’t made out of actual fabric; that he won’t have to return to HQ with your wetness staining his front. Not that he’d really mind.

It’s intoxicating, the way he fills you, surrounds you. So much so that you don’t realize how much time has passed until you hear Jessica’s voice from both of your watches, cutting through your whines and Miguel’s growls and the lewd sounds of your bodies meeting. “O’Hara, what’s your position?”

“Fuck,” he snarls, driving into you just a little faster, a little harder, “fuck, not yet, not yet.” He doesn’t respond to Jess, leaning down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss that mostly contains teeth and spit.

“Mig-Miguel, they’re going to be looking, c’mon, baby, we’ve got to g-” you hiccup into his mouth, but your hips move of their own accord, meeting him thrust for thrust as he drives desperately into you.

“Not. Yet.” He growls, punctuating his words with his hips. “Just a little longer, little- little longer, jus’ let me-” he fucks himself into you, so furious and devastating that tears finally manage to spill from your eyes.

“Spiderman 2099, what is your position?” Jessica asks again, and you can hear Pavitr ask you the same thing from your watch, both oblivious to the fact that their leader, your leader, is fucking you into the wall in some dirty back alley in a universe that neither of you know, that neither of you care to know. All you know is Miguel’s body against yours, exchanging desperate breaths as he thrusts deep into your sticky pussy, curling your hands into his hair as he digs his fingers into your waist, his claws nearly tearing the fabric of your suit.

“Miguel,” you moan, “we have to go, please we have to go, they’re looking for us, they’re gonna see-”

“No,” Miguel whines, and you want to fall to your knees with how absolutely devastated he sounds, “can’t- you can’t go, ‘s too soon, baby, let me have you, let me have you,” he’s slurring around his fangs, his eyes burning red at the edges as his eyes meet yours. He grabs at the watch on your wrist, cutting it off with a deft claw, and you choke on your spit as he crushes it easily in his palm. 

“Miguel-” you start, but he cups a thick hand over your mouth, and you can only watch as he raises his watch to his face and says, far more collected than he’s been this entire night, “Anomaly neutralized, returning to HQ. Meet tomorrow for a debrief.”

“Not tonight?” Pav chirps, and Miguel ruts into you hard, his gaze burning into yours.

“Tomorrow.” He growls, before he shuts his watch off completely, tucking his face into the crook of your neck again, sucking dark marks into your skin. His hands find your hips once again, pulling you onto his cock over and over and over as tears slide down your cheeks, choked little moans ripping out of your throat.

“That’s right, beautiful, squeeze this cock, make a mess for me. Can’t wait to get you home, going to fuck you all fucking night, needed this sweet pussy so fucking bad, bebita, por favor, ah-” he groans into your skin, and his cock sinks into you so perfect, stretching you exactly how you’ve needed it for so long, and fuck, your orgasm nearly makes you black out. You thrash against the wall, crying out so loud that Miguel has no choice but to seal his mouth over yours in a sticky kiss, swallowing your noises. 

“Fuck, that’s right, make a mess for me, eres tan perfecta, mi amor, mi vida, fuck,” he fucks into you, once, two more times, before he’s following you over that peak, his hips twitching as he fills you up.

You both can only rock against each other for a minute, riding the aftershocks of bliss. How had you gone without this for so long? How could you have deprived yourself of heaven?

“Let’s go home, Miguel,” you whisper, resting your forehead against his. He nods, switching his watch back on and opening a portal behind himself. He slips out of you, his suit reforming over himself. You, unfortunately don’t have the same luxury, the night air still cool against your used and achy core. 

“You’re making me a new suit, by the way,” you say, tilting your head up to smile at him. “And a new watch.”

He only chuckles, lifting you into his arms, turning to walk you both into your shared apartment in Nueva York, where you haven't been together in too damn long. “Anything you want.”

#hes just so big i need him to bang me against a wall #i love him sm i get so depraved talking about him #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv smut

[teabutmakeitazure]

Dissimulation Continued

>Yan! Mafia! Childe x Fem! Student! Reader (modern au)

>Word count: 4.9k

>a/n: childe "leave your degree and be my wife" tartaglia. i dont think anything in this classifies as yan since its just a continuation of the original story but still tagging that since the original is yan. also, i wrote the beginning during my flight lol

Being housemates with a mafioso isn't a very ideal situation.

First Part

Airports are holes in the fabric of time. Minutes and hours are blurred, the signature beeping sound before the limitless number of announcements causing an odd fogginess in your mind. They're surreal but comforting. You are forever a traveller there, only at the mercy of your own mistakes and mishaps.

A familiar hair colour stands out in the distance, rising above the lake of heads. Your luggage trolley is pushed closer and closer to that lake, but instead of relief, only a subtle feeling of dread settles in. It is true that in airports you are at the mercy of your own mistakes, but it is the same for the outside world. The only difference is that simply existing and being alive is not considered a mistake in the former.

The voice you've been hearing through your phone for the past weeks finally greets you directly from the source. Everything is a blur, your eyes focusing on the person who makes way through the busy crowd to get closer as the sounds become exceedingly loud. Slowly, you stop in your tracks, mind still under the haze of indistinguishable time. 

The first to go is your backpack, the item promptly removed from your shoulders. The next is the trolley. Your grip on it is gently loosened, and fingers snap in front of your face to dispel the haze from your mind.

"Earth to [Name]? Hey. You alright? The flight couldn't have been that bad, come on."

Your eyes blink a few times, the background chatter becoming more prominent and the face in front of you being focused on by your vision. Words refuse to form on your tongue, so you have to rely on your actions as a last resort. After closing your mouth with mild embarrassment, your eyes settle on his oversized t-shirt. Bare arms greet you when you look for a sleeve, so you settle with grabbing the side of his shirt instead. 

It’s still summer. Of course he’s wearing cap sleeves. The display of what one could easily pass off as clinginess causes him to take a step closer, his arm reaching to wrap around your shoulders. You refuse to directly look him in the eye, but allow the arm to slither around you. ‘I am with this person,’ the arm announces. ‘And we are more than what a first glance can reveal.’

“Are you feeling alright?” The arm pulls you inside a half-hug, the warmth of his body comforting with the smell of familiar cologne. “Did something happen?”

A shake of your head is all you can manage, but it is not accepted.

“Hey,” voice low, the arm around you travels upwards to gently run up and down your head. “Tell me. We’ve talked about this. Don’t hide anything from me. I only want to help.”

To yield and share your feelings with someone such as him is not easy, but you do so anyway, surprised at how easily you were able to speak. “It’s something silly,” you say, eyes glued to the floor. “I just miss home.”

The arm strokes your back comfortingly. There is more than just comfort in his voice. There is sympathy. “I understand.” Commiseration drips from his tone, a hint of melancholy behind the way he holds you closer. “We’ll get through it. Don’t worry.”

The hand grabbing the shirt is now wrapped with another, the warmth from both palms and the touch more noticeable than you would have preferred. Calluses are barely felt, but you know they are there. You saw them in detail right before you left for home. How could you ever forget?

With the other free hand, the trolley is pushed along as both of you walk to the exit. You say goodbye to the building and the odd feeling of time passing inside it. A familiar routine and life is welcomed in its stead, but the welcome is short lived.

You both have stopped walking.

“[Name]?”

You raise your head but do not meet his eyes.

“You haven’t looked at me since you got here.”

Pointing out your actions is cruel, but so is your treatment. Thus, you capitulate like you always do. The sight of the familiar dull blues is something you did not want to welcome but you do.

“Sorry.” You try your best to give a smile even if it’s shaky and uncertain. “I’m just… shaken up. I’ll be alright in a few hours.”

Unfortunately for you, the devil has another demand. “Say my name. You haven’t even said my name yet.”

“Childe?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “My name.”

A light bulb shines above your head, and you immediately respond. “Ajax.”

He smiles. “Again.”

“Ajax.”

You’re near the car before you know it. 

The sun is setting which paints the sky in a beautiful gradient of red and yellow, hints of magenta red peeking through the clouds. The car’s trunk opens and your luggage is promptly placed inside. Your company for the evening comes to stand in front of you, and your eyes instead go to the constellations of freckles dusting across his cheeks. Diverting your attention to him seems to please him because he’s smiling at you.

“It’ll be night by the time we’re there.”

Your statement makes Childe turn around and face the sunset as well. Somehow the mahogany coloured t-shirt is a perfect compliment to the sky’s colours, his hair glowing a fiery red with the sunset behind him.

“If it’ll be night,” he says, hand reaching for the phone inside his pocket, “you can go home and sleep. You need the rest.”

“No.” Childe turns to look at you, phone in hand, but you continue speaking. “I need to call my mom. She said to call when I reach the airport.”

The questioning look on his face turns into a smile. “What do you think I’m doing right now?”

You raise a brow. “Taking me home?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “With my phone. What do you think I’m doing with my phone?”

Your eyes widen when he clarifies, mouth agape before you compose yourself. “Oi. I’m supposed to talk to her, not you.”

Childe’s thumb presses something on his phone, cheeky grin infuriating you further. “Too late. I sent her a text. I told her I picked you up and that we’re on our way home.”

Mouth having fallen open again, you stomp towards him. Aiming for his phone doesn’t help, for he simply raises it above his head and takes a step back. Thus, you grab onto his shirt’s neckline and pull. The smile falls from his face only to return when he’s barely an inch away from your face, noses almost brushing.

“[Name],” he breathes, eyes staring into yours, “I’m sure this counts as public indecency. Let’s go home first.”

Unbothered, you simply sigh. “I told you. I’m supposed to talk to her. Not you.”

Childe pulls away, his hand gently undoing your grip on his shirt. “And why’s that? Maintaining a good relationship with your family is important.”

“If my mother finds out I’m with you so often, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

He blinks, obviously not having understood. “Isn’t that good?”

“No!”

Childe tilts his head, hair no longer glowing in the sunset. It’s starting to get dark now. “Explain.”

With a groan, you humour him, albeit begrudgingly. “She’ll scold me for being too carefree. I don’t want her on my case all the time.”

“Alright,” he whines. “Come on. Let’s go home. You need some dinner and rest.”

The car park’s street lights illuminate the area, and following Childe you get into the passenger seat. With a huff, you look at his smile - that upturn of his lips seemingly always present in front of you - and plop down onto the seat only to feel… ‘something’ under you. Childe raises a questioning brow as you halfway stand up, trying to grab whatever hard object was under you.

It would be a lie to say you weren’t daunted when a heavy, cold metal object sat in your palm.

Like throwing away a scalding hot piece of iron, you fling the gun to the back seat, eyes boring holes into the item as it lays in the back. Almost as on cue, memories of what had occurred pre-departure flood back in mockingly. It was foolish to be even slightly comfortable around him. Have you forgotten your differences?

“Woah! Careful there!” Childe glances at the firearm sitting on the back seat, but quickly turns back to you. Seeing how your chest is heaving as you look ahead, he breathes a sigh of relief. At least he used the safety lever so that it accidentally doesn’t fire. That would have ended badly.

He watches as you pay him no mind, eyes focused on what you can see through the dashboard’s glass. “Hey,” he whispers gently, “I left it there by mistake. My bad.”

You put a hand over your throat, fingers pressed to your right carotid artery. The continuously pumping blood grounds you. It grounds you, but it provides no comfort. Whatever strength remains in you after a long trip is what helps you compose yourself again.

“Let’s just go home.”

Your words are taken as a command, and Chide nods, immediately reversing the car out of the parking space. It’s completely dark now, the sky only illuminated by the moon and whatever stars are visible with the light pollution. As you exit the airport premises, you allow yourself to immerse in the silence.

Head resting against the window, you close your eyes. It’s a shame your family doesn’t know about your new living arrangements.

-

The first thing to greet you at your new accommodation is silence. The next is the sound of your phone ringing. The bag on your shoulders is eased off as you press the device to your ear, Childe leaving the thing on the sofa. Silver chalice coloured polished tiles stare back at you as you greet your mother while your new mafioso ‘housemate’ drags your luggage to your room.

After reassuring your mother that you have reached home safely, you excuse yourself with wanting to rest, something she respects and immediately cuts the call for. Now, your greatest conundrum faces you with crossed arms, dull blue eyes observing you instead of simply looking. It’s a test. You know it.

Thus, being the good student that you are, you play along. It is absolutely crucial that you do so because there is only one thing that may land you in hot water: your refusal to cooperate. Despite all that, there are boundaries you will not allow to be crossed, no matter how much he insists.

“Are you sure about the guest room?” Childe patiently eyes you as you mull over an answer. Eyes still taking in every minute detail of your body, he doesn’t miss you biting your lip for a moment.

With a meek voice that you know is his weakness, you mutter a yes. “I’m sorry,” you excuse yourself. “I don’t think I’ll be comfortable sharing a room just yet.”

“Well,” Childe tries again, grabbing the backrest of the sofa behind him for support, “maybe we could live in the same room, but uh, I’ll go to the guest room to sleep. Then we can slowly get comfortable with each other-”

“Childe.”

He blinks. “Yes?”

“Please.” You make it a point to slightly frown, just to garner his sympathy. “I promise I’m not being distant. I’m just… not comfortable yet.”

He sighs, the sound bouncing off the newly painted walls. “Fine. I don’t want to overwhelm you.” His commiseration, although begrudging, is welcomed on your end. Thus, to show your gratitude, you walk up to him and pat his cheek twice. The action makes his eyes widen as he looks at you, and you’re again reminded of how simple-minded he is at times. It’s almost cute… if you ignore the other stuff.

“Do you… want me to be next to you while you sleep?” Childe asks. “It’s a new environment for you. M-maybe my presence will help you fall asleep.”

You smile at him, thankful that he’s caring about your comfort. Nevertheless, you’ll be fine, so you decline. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be fine. I’m sure I’ll pass out as soon as I hit the pillow.”

He’s still looking at you like a sad puppy in hope you’ll change your mind. You do not. “Fine,” Childe yields. “Just call me if you need anything. I’ll… wake you up for dinner. You can nap until then.”

Just the thought of bed makes you sleepy, so you nod and head for your new living quarters. Unfortunately, you do not turn to look at your new housemate’s empty gaze.

-

It takes great strength to open your eyes, even if for just a moment, but you do not bother with waking up. Turning to the other side instead, you snuggle deeper into the cover with the contentment that your mother will come and wake you up whenever appropriate. And she does. The warm hand that rests on your cheek caresses the skin gently, a voice hesitantly calling your name.

The realisation that the hand and voice do not belong to your mother is cruel, but it suffices to instantly wake you up with a startle.

Blue. That is what you first see.

The mattress underneath you feels too hard for a moment, and you feel as though you are somewhere unfamiliar, somewhere you mustn't be. The feeling seems to be a mockery created by your mind, but you allow yourself to breathe before listening to the culprit of your disturbed sleep.

“Sorry.” You give no reaction to Childe’s apology. He continues, “It’s starting to get late, and I didn’t want to wake you up for dinner but decided against that because you probably haven’t eaten in a while.”

You continue to stare at him, giving him a look that says, ‘so?’ but he doesn’t seem bothered. Instead, he has the gall to grab your hand from underneath the cover.

“Let’s eat together.”

Childe ends up receiving a very tired raised eyebrow from you before you actually make a move to get up. However, before he could comment on your tired state and ask you to stay in bed, you have thrown the cover off your body and are already on your way to the living room. It makes him sigh, but he doesn’t complain.

Dinner is late and quiet. It’s around half past ten, but Childe doesn’t mind since you don’t have class in the morning. He took a day off as well, just to make up for lost time. The last time he saw you was weeks ago. Of course he wants to spend time with you.

You, on the other hand, down the home cooked meal without any second thought, brain still on autopilot. It makes you feel bad since you don’t have the energy to compliment his cooking, but hey. He woke you up from a deep sleep. He should feel bad. Nevertheless, the cook shamelessly asks about his cooking.

“Did you like it?”

You blink up at him, responding with a sigh. “I’m too tired to taste it.”

Hands folded over his chest, his portion of food is also gone. “I see. Want to go to bed again? I’ll lay down with you till you fall asleep.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Childe gives you a look again, one that reminds you just how easily his dull eyes make you acquiesce. Despite fighting it, you fail and give in like you always do. “Okay okay,” you grumble. His celebratory smile falls when you elaborate. “But no getting into bed with me. You can uh… just sit there.”

“Why not?” The tilt of his head is accentuated by his slightly furrowed brows. It honestly reminds you of a kid trying to negotiate a later bedtime with his mother. “I promised you I won’t try anything you don’t want me to.”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what is?”

Sensing an argument coming up, you decide to steer the conversation elsewhere. There is too much at stake to anger him just because you’re tired, and you would rather not act like a whining child simply to get what you want. No. You are better than his tactics. Better, but not necessarily perfect.

“I’m sorry,” you say, voice low and dejected, “I just want to be alone. I just got back from home and everything feels so weird.” You sigh, simply to make a point. “If I was living in the dorms, I would’ve still been in bed. I really appreciate you, truly, but I just want to be alone. Living alone isn’t easy.”

He counters almost instantly. “You aren’t alone.”

“I meant family,” you clarify. “Being away from family isn’t fun.”

A pensive expression takes over his face. Childe actually looks like he’s thinking, the gears in his head moving as he tries to make sense of your words. Though they were only to get him to back off and subtly establish your boundaries, not everything was a lie. Well, some of it at least.

“Alright,” he surrenders. “I’ll sit next to you.”

Funnily enough, sleep comes easy with his presence. The fact had baffled you when you woke up in the morning, but the plentiful rest ceased any thinking on your part.

-

Like a sponge slowly soaking up water as it’s left over a water stain, Childe has entered almost every part of your life. He has consumed it entirely, trapping you within his confines as every single activity remains scrutinised. You had first thought you were the sponge, but you were mistaken. Childe is the sponge. You are the water he has soaked up and gotten hold of.

The power is in his hands. Though it’s not unpleasant most of the time, his proprietorial behaviour never fails to remind you of the numerous differences in both your personalities and mentalities. At first, you were able to subtly manipulate him like you did when you first got back. Unfortunately, he has either realised your tactic or grown immune to your tired expressions with displeased frowns and sweet pleadings.

You have no idea what to do.

It absolutely does not help that you are under the added stress of your studies and with no means of clearing your mind because you aren’t sure how to go out with your friends. It also doesn’t help that you simply don’t have the time to go out with your friends. 

Rubbing your eyes, you cross out the name of a particular course before clicking on the submit button. The word ‘submitted’ appears in front of ‘assignment 3’, and you instantly put your head down on the table. As usual, your laptop’s screen turns off after its three minute timer is up, prompting your mind to start thinking over your next assignment.

There’s around five days to the deadline and it’s an essay. Perhaps having it drip with affectation might impress the tutor. She is one for grandiose after all. All you’ll need is to find synonyms of every other word and make them sound pretentious. Yes, that’ll do. Just make a rough draft and then edit it with the synonyms so that it’s easier to write and organise your ideas.

Wait… you haven’t even done the reading yet. How are you supposed to write it without doing the required reading? 

Taking a peek at the clock on the wall, you make a mental note of reading and writing down main points and ideas before bed. That’s the only thing you have the energy left to do. Maybe you’ll watch a movie tonight, forget any academic obligations and let the mistakes take over.

“Sulking? Or tired?”

Your beloved housemate’s voice calls out from somewhere behind. That gives you a very clear idea that he’s invited himself inside the room. The door was closed. You didn’t hear anything.

Without raising your head, you mumble out your reply. “Both.”

A chuckle, and you hear him sitting down on the bed. “Wow. You sound like you need a twelve hour sleep.”

“Maybe I need twenty.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles again, “you’re going to need drugs for that.”

With a sigh, you raise your head, eyes staring at Childe’s blurry reflection on your laptop’s screen. “Maybe a drug cartel-ish business would’ve been easier. How much do you make again?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I don’t really need to keep track. It’s more than enough.”

“Show-off.”

“To be fair there are no drugs involved.”

You raise a brow at his reflection. “Then what is?”

“Hm.” Childe crosses his arms, faking deep thought. “You would have to be assassinated if I told you. Which is obviously unpreferable.”

“Yeah. I’m good then. Keep your secrets.”

He laughs again, louder this time. “Technically, spouses are immune to that rule. You’re gonna have to marry me if you want to know.”

A click of your tongue and you turn to look at him. Your expression is anything but playful. “Keep your secrets.” Now that you see the burnt maroon shirt and black pants, you figure that he just came back home. He’s even wearing his gloves.

“Oh, come on [Name]. I’m not that bad.”

You don’t reply.

“I am…?”

“No comment,” you deadpan. With that, you turn back to your laptop and turn it back on. Quietly, you close the pdf files of your submitted assignment and open the ones relating to the essay you need to turn in. By your estimate, you need to do lots of brainstorming, so if you start right now, you can get it done in around three days.

A hand flat on the table next to yours and warm breath over your ear startle you as you attempt to start reading. “Week six,” Childe reads, “the emotional mind: emotion, reason, and consciousness. Discuss the argument the author of this document has laid out and present your own views on the topic he is discussing. There is no right or wrong answer. You will be graded over your coherency in your writing and skills in identifying any possible discrepancies or invalidity of arguments. Please feel free to contact me or your tutor if you need help. The format is the same as what we discussed in class. Good luck.”

You open the document that is your required reading for the assignment and hear a grumble from Childe. He moves closer to you and instinctively, you lean forward to maintain what little distance there was. Gently, he coaxes your hand off the touchpad and asks if there’s any unsaved progress in the tabs you’ve opened. Once you say no, he closes everything.

After shutting down the laptop, he picks it up and places it on a side table. “Take a break,” he says. “You don’t need to work so hard.”

Tired, you’re almost tempted into listening to him but snap out of it when you hear what he says next.

“I’m going to take care of you, so even if something happens and you can’t complete the degree, you don’t have to worry.”

The statement makes you frown and you clearly show your displeasure with your expression and words. "That's not very nice."

He simply shrugs. "All I'm saying is that there's no pressure on you. Take it easy."

"The kind of pressure you're talking about is irrelevant."

Childe shifts his weight from one foot to the other, hand on a hip. "Is it? In what way," he challenges. "You left home to come to a different country to study. Of course there's pressure to succeed. I'm just trying to ease that."

"No. You're not." You finally find the courage to look straight into his challenging stare, unyielding despite feeling your heart start to beat faster. "You might be trying on your end, but it just makes me feel worse."

Your chest rises with every beat of your heart, the lub dub clearly audible in your ears. Again, Childe shifts his weight onto the other foot. He’s still looking at you that way, and it’s freaking you out. How can his stare be so… overwhelming? 

“If you really think,” he says, “that what I say makes it worse, then I’m sorry.”

Out of surprise, you look over his expression but the furrowed brows fail to show any sign of insincerity despite his flat tone. The discrepancy makes you frown again, but you don’t bother explaining the expression to him. “Alright,” you say. With that, you go back to your table only to stare at the empty space in front of you.

There’s eraser dust around the table, your stationery haphazardly lying around and a single notebook open. There’s also your phone and a little packet of salted peanuts to munch on while studying. You hear a deep inhale from somewhere behind you but don’t bother pausing your aimless staring. It’s the sudden physical presence behind you that demands your attention back.

“[Name].”

Be mature about this, you tell yourself. There’s no need to be petty and say something neither of you will like.

At your silence, he continues. “[Name], are you… mad at me?”

Of course not! I love it when you say that you’ve cemented the idea of the both of us together. You start, “Childe-”

“Ajax.”

“Ajax,” you correct yourself, “gosh I’m still not used to that name. Anyway, I’m not mad at you.”

There’s a sound of disbelief that comes from behind you. “You’re not even looking at me!”

“I’m processing not having to use my brain. Give me a moment.”

He scoffs this time. “I don’t believe you. You’re doing the same thing. You’re being distant again.”

“I’m not,” you defend.

“Yes. Yes, you are. I know how this will inevitably go down. You’re going to grow more distant and talk less until there’s a confrontation that leaves you crying.” Childe continues despite your silence. “I don’t want that.”

It forces you to think he’s selfish, that he only thinks for himself when he says that he doesn’t want that, but despite wanting to think so, you know that he says that for you. His countenance gives away what his words cannot, and you still remember the face he made when it had happened.

That pure horror and regret is one of the reasons why despite his actions you still respect this man. Maybe it’s the only reason you don’t scream at him everyday, be acrimonious and cry yourself to sleep over your predicament. He may have taken over your life, but he also undoubtedly and unequivocally loves and cares for you. Even if he sometimes looks at you like you’re hiding something.

You will ignore the occasional watchful eyes in favour of the care he is capable of. Perhaps, or even most likely, it is the only reason why you think twice before speaking when you’re in a bad mood.

“So,” Childe says, a hand now next to yours on the table as he leans closer behind you, “let’s talk it over, okay?"

A question pops up in your mind, and you voice it after pulling your hand under the table. “Talk over what? I was just about to say that I’ll try my best not to do that again. And as for right now, I’m really just processing things. I’m tired.”

“Hm,” he hums. “The offer is still on the table. I can make your life easy. All you need to do is give me one chance.”

You scoff. “Easy? I think my life is easy enough. I don’t have to work, only study. Heck, you even do the groceries and cook more than half of the time.”

“I suppose you have a point.” In one swift movement, your chair is grabbed by the backrest and dragged to the edge of the bed. There, Childe seats himself, satisfied at the eye contact. “But I could make it easier.”

Arms now crossed, you respond to his offer with a question. “What, so you’re a magician now? I didn’t know you had a side gig.”

He laughs, boyish and charming. “Of course not. I’m just telling you what I can do for you. Nothing more.” 

The smile on his face unsettles you. It’s one of the scheming ones. The one he has when he’s cooking up something that definitely is not food. Nevertheless, his little ‘clarification’ is met with nothing more than nonchalance on your end.

“Alright,” you shrug. “Thanks for making me take a break. I really needed it.”

He’s still smiling, albeit differently this time. It’s morphed into something more sincere, something more warm and welcoming. The look in his eyes is no way the same. “Absolutely. There’s no way I wouldn’t help you.”

The conversation seems almost over, and you are about to get up to lie on your bed when a demand pauses your movements. “Say my name,” he says. “I love hearing my name from you.”

You know why he asks that of you sometimes. It grounds him, reminds him of who he is behind the red mask that lays next to the vase on the side table. Gloves are peeled off, and hypnotised by the reveal of the long fingers underneath them, you mindlessly give your reply.

“Ajax.”

“[Name],” he breathes.

You are just as breathless. “Ajax.”

Face now resting in his palm, his smile is small but affectionate. “[Name].” Eyes follow as well, turning into something more soft. You finally see the image of someone adoring and can’t help the almost desperate call that slips from your mouth.

“Ajax.”

You do not know who you were calling to.

#childe x reader #yandere childe #yandere childe x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #tartaglia x reader

[flynnriderishot]

i needddd cute pt 2

cute pt.2 - m.s

a/n: i’ve been feeling really bad that i missed the original persons request by a mile 😭 so i’m gonna add that into this part lol

warnings: i couldn’t really figure out how to word it but i PROMISE matt wasn’t being creepy about following her to the bathroom‼️ he just really wanted to meet her. we don’t do that weird shit over here 🙄

also, vinnie hacker mention 🗣️ unfortunately, he has nothing to do with the story, i just needed someone to add💀

you were invited to a party that a friend of a friend was throwing.

did you know who this person was? vaguely.

in your eyes, it didn’t really matter.

what mattered was that matt sturniolo and his brothers would also be attending this party.

while you didn’t really have to go, you were a good friend and rightfully needed some time away from your social media life.

what better way to do that than to surround yourself with social media influencers? cue the sarcasm.

what made this all the more annoying to you was that it was a ‘valentines day’ party.

as if you weren’t all over the age of eighteen. you wanted to roll your eyes at the thought.

sure, the thought was cute and the idea was definitely there. but as you walked into the house, y/f/n’s hand in your own, you couldn’t help but scrunch up your face at the excessive amount of pink and red that flooded your vision.

“i guess we missed the memo?”

“no, i saved us the embarrassment of looking like we were back in third grade.” y/fn laughed out a scoff.

“i should definitely pay you more.”

while she was your friend, she also helped quite a lot with managing your channel. with reminding you of what your supporters wanted to see, to recording you anytime you needed content.

and though before she would say it was out of the kindness of her heart, you felt bad that she did so much for free. and once you started getting popular, you made quick work to pay her for all the stuff she did in the past and now she practically worked for you.

it was a win win situation. you got a best friend and a coworker all in one. it was much better than your previous partner that expected so much more for doing not nearly as much as y/f/n did.

“i definitely wouldn’t complain.”

you shared a laugh, moving your way through the crowed and to the drink table.

“i haven’t been to a party in a while, what are the odds we see a fight break out?”

a voice behind you interrupted before she could respond, “that would make this place so much more entertaining.”

your eyes widen as you froze up, trying to pinpoint where you may have heard the voice before turning around to actually see who it was.

“hi.” nick smiled at you.

“oh my god. hi.” you pulled him into a hug, pulling away to see him do the same to y/f/n, introducing himself to her as they hadn’t known one another very well.

“it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“you’re telling me.” you stepped aside so he could lean against the wall with you two, “i’ve been wanting to say thank you in person since you’ve sent me that lip balm.”

“i can vouch.” y/f/n spoke up, “after your live together, she wouldn’t shut up about it.”

nick smiled, “i appreciate it, and i’m glad you like it. ive been wanting to meet you too, you’re like one of my favorite youtubers ever.”

“my god, shut up.” you roll your eyes, nick coping the motion.

“speaking of the live…”

“goodness.”

nick didn’t stop, “what’s this crush you have on my brother?”

“no crush, just…admiring his beauty.” you brushed off the teasing look they gave you.

“it’s definitely a crush. you can’t admire matt’s beauty without thinking nick and chris are attractive as well. they’re triplets.” y/f/n stated matter of factly.

“right.” nick agreed, “we literally have the same face.”

“nick and chris are gorgeous.”

“oh, thank you.”

you look back to see chris walking towards you guys, smile on his face. with just a simply glance to the side, you could see matt following closely behind his brother, eyes darting around him.

“oh.” your eyes widen, chris’ snort echoing in your ears as you pass your soda off to him, “i need to go to the bathroom.”

“no, you don’t.” nick laughed.

“i’ll be back!” you shouted, secretly having no intentions of returning until it was clear that matt wouldn’t be around.

“she’s nervous to meet you.” you could hear y/f/n telling matt after the middle triplet asked what was wrong.

if he was absolutely beautiful through your screen, you couldn’t imagine what he’d look like in person.

you barely managed to stop your face from warming up when you saw him in one of their podcasts episodes, how would you react if you got the chance to see him in person? last thing you wanted to do was embarrass yourself.

“hi, yn.” a voice called out, leading you to look over and smile,

“hi, vinnie.”

“you okay?” the hacker frowned at your unusually tense nature.

“i’m fine, i need the bathroom!” you called out, unaware of the blue eyes that were following your figure, also hearing your statement and making it his goal to get there before you.

“you’re going the wrong way.” vinnie laughed, pointing in the opposite direction of which you were walking.

“right, i knew that!” yoh waved off his drunken cackle, managing to make it down the hall and to the bathroom within a minute. you hoped you were lucky enough to walk in a not see some random couple doing it on the counter top.

as you opened the door, letting a sigh of relief and a short, “jesus”, you were startled when a voice spoke to you,

“take it as a compliment, you’re a lot cuter in person.”

opening your eyes in a panic, you spotted matt, arms crossed over his chest as he stood in front of the mirror.

“oh, my god.”

taglist: @hearts4chris @timmyandsturniolo @mayhem-72 @luvsturns @knowingnothingnoel @mrsmattyb

tags for this fic: @3kslav @bb-1s-blog @annamcdonalds67 @sturns333 @dracoflaco @electrobutterfly @wolfstarfate @landrysflannel @3mm4yung @strnsblog @lexxxiii-iix @patscorner @lemon-criminal

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo

[hotpinkstars]

AHHH LOVED THE AL HAITHAM FIC SMM but if you dont mind what was going through al haithams head when he realized she left??

-> the house will never be the same again pt. 2

synopsis -> after being incredibly disrespected by your husband, alhaitham, you moved to liyue. what is going through his mind when you leave?

a/n -> AHHH i'm so happy you liked it!!! and i don't mind making a pt. 2 at all sorry this has been sitting here for a while but i hope you enjoy! here is part 1.

warnings -> all hurt no comfort, reader never turns up lol

w/c -> 1.2k

it’s been about a week now, and you’re already settled into liyue. you’ve caught the eye of a bunch of passersby in the city- a sumeru vision wielder living in liyue harbor? 

thankfully, you had the traveler and a kind woman from the qixing named ganyu able to assist you with questions about the city. the first day you got there, she noticed your vision, and asked you all about it. it soon led to the two of you hitting off the start of a friendship in a nice restaurant- with ganyu telling you all of the things to do in liyue, the jobs that can be taken, and how magical the lantern rite especially is. you mentioned to her that you had a passion for the arts, and she immediately helped you look for a side job to make a little bit of mora to pay rent in your nice abode in the middle of the harbor.

“so, were your travels from sumeru alright? i’ve heard trudging through desert is not a very enjoyable experience..” ganyu questioned, a slight grin to be found on her face. “though, i have heard that the city down there is very nice. i would love to visit for myself one day, but with work and adeptal business it makes my days a little tight.”

you nod before replying. “the city is beautiful, especially at night. theres a gorgeous stage down there too, where a young woman named nilou always performs on special events. it’s always been the most majestic part of the city, or at least in my opinion.” 

ganyu lets out a noise of fascination, before giggling a little. “i would love to watch her dance. nilou is a familiar name, some people here strictly go to sumeru just to see her. i bet she’s as wonderful as everyone makes her out to be.” ganyu sighs. “i wonder if she travels? we have nice performing places here, too.”

you nod. “occasionally. it mostly has to be a big event for her to arrive, though.” you take another bite of your food. “but i bet if i asked her, she’d come out for at least a few days.”

that made ganyu smile once more, before she asked another question. “well, this may be an odd question, but do you have any romantic relationships?” 

“well, that's the reason i decided to move here,” now it is your turn to sigh, making ganyu have a confused look dancing across her face. “my partner and i got into an argument. he wouldn’t stop overworking himself, and i simply just wanted him to come to bed. but he’s so stubborn, and he took his work stress out on me. there was… certainly a lot of name calling.”

ganyus look of confusion immediately switches to an apologetic one. “ah, you made the right choice. that’s no way to treat your spouse.” 

you nod in agreement, before finishing your dish and pushing it slightly out in front of you. 

“well, i’m going to head back to my apartment now. this was very nice, we should do it again sometime!” you smile before standing and putting some money on the table. “here, this should be half. have a good night, ganyu!”

“goodnight to you too, y/n! i’ll see you soon.” 

now, back on alhaithams end..

he hasn’t been home in about a week and a half, due to his work causing his presence nearly 24/7. that pretty much means he hasn’t realized you’ve left yet. 

as he walks home, he doesn’t know how he would approach you. does he pretend the issue doesn’t exist? does he keep ignoring you? does he apologize? he thought his mind would split open.

as he walks through the door, he notices that the house is a little… emptier, from when the two of you lived together. he walked through the whole place, looking into the bathrooms to see your products gone. looking at the laundry room, met with no clothes that are yours hanging from the clothesline. and now, when he went to your bedroom…

your pillowcases have been stripped from the bed, and your pillow thrown into the closet. there were only a stack of two pillows, right in the middle of the bed. now his heart was thumping, and really hard. he looked through the dressers. the left side was barren, leaving only his side full. the thing that brought tears to the mans eyes was seeing your wedding ring on your side of the table. 

so you really left him. he stands there, shocked, unknowing of what to do. does he try to find you, or does he let you go? oh, how he regrets ever talking to you the way he did. if he just took your advice, you would be in bed, waiting for his arrival. likely bringing him into a hug, shaking all his worries and stress away as you whispered questions along about how his day was. 

the next few days felt like someone kept coming over to his desk and stabbing his back with blades like his. he felt so regretful, doing everything he can to stay composed while at the same time trying to find where you’ve gone. dehya won’t give him anything besides “somewhere close to sumeru that’s not sumeru.” that could mean you’ve gone to fontaine, liyue, or monstadt. how would he ever find you?

he’d ask the gaurds, and they all told him you went in the direction of the chasm. getting somewhere, but not close enough. he could walk all that way and come up empty handed. he doesn’t have an exact pinpoint on you yet. 

he’d ask nilou. she’d just shrug and say something along the lines of “i heard what happened, but i do not know fully where they went.” 

he walked the paths of the city, lost deep in thought. everyone thought it was a little out of character for someone such as him to look and feel as lost as he is. as much as people wondered what happened, they kept their mouths shut.

and for the people who noticed your absence, too, they’d ask different people who would likely have knowledge. but alhaitham didn’t know where to go now. he could walk the whole chasm and still not have you turn up. he could check every apartment complex in liyue harbor, and knock on every door on the outskirts. he could sail the seas to inazuma, and walk every separate island to see who may be housing you, or what commission you may have been taken in by. he could fall down the very waterfall that leads an entrance to the enchanting location called enkanomiya. he could go to fontaine, dive under the waters, walk every rocky mountain, and even visit the fortress of meropide. he could fight every monster near the city of monstadt, looking upon every rooftop for signs of your art, blown through the city of wind. but he still wouldn’t find you.

now what he doesn’t know is that you’re in liyue harbor, and nobody frets to tell him that anytime soon. for now, they’re just going to let him suffer, the same way he let you.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham #genshin angst #genshin x reader angst #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham angst #alhaitham x reader angst

[moonstruckme]

Hiiii your marauders fics are AMAZING!! I’m truly obsessed with them. Would you ever do an aftercare fic where the reader is in sort of an emotional subspace and is just super clingy? Totally fine if not just curious :)

Hi, thank you! I realize you said "just curious" lol but I decided to try my hand at it. I'm not super familiar with this stuff, so it might be kinda cringey lol--sorry! Anyway, thank you for asking/requesting lovely :)

cw: smut mdni, p in v, dom/sub dynamics, praise kink

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 605 words

Your forehead crashes against Remus’ chest, panting breaths blowing warmth back onto your own face. 

Both of his hands had been gripping your hips, but now one coasts up the ridges of your spine, coming to rest on your upper back. 

“You’re alright,” he murmurs. 

You hum in response. It comes out a bit like a whine. You’re feeling teary and torn open, the emotions that had been heightening as you inched toward climax now crashing into the gulley below. 

Remus’ lips press gently to the top of your head. “Was that good for you, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,” you affirm readily. “Really good. Was it for you?” 

“I thought I made that apparent enough.” There’s a teasing edge to his voice, and you smile, turning your head to nuzzle your cheek against this chest. “Ready to get up?”

“No.” It’s almost a whimper. You needle your hands under his arms, wrapping yourself around him. “I wanna stay here.” 

He shifts, and you inhale sharply at the slight movement of his cock, still inside you. Shushes and apologies alike fall from Remus’ lips, but he leans up on his elbows, using one hand to tilt your face towards him. His expression shifts as he realizes your still-fuzzy headspace, lips pulling down.

“Oh, baby.” It sounds almost pitying, one knuckle stroking down your cheek lovingly. “You’re not going to feel better until you let me clean you up, dove.” 

Tears press at your eyes, but you do your best to sound reasonable. “I’ll feel better if we cuddle.” 

He kisses your forehead again. You recognize the apology in it and whine as he moves uncomfortably against your sensitive walls, sitting you both up. “We’ll still cuddle, I promise.” He slides you off his cock despite your protests. “Hey, you’re alright. I’ve got you, sweetheart. Not hurting, are you?” 

“A little,” you say, giving him doe eyes in hopes of some extra attention. But then Remus’ brow furrows concernedly, and you rethink it. “Not really, though. Not more than I wanna be.” 

He lets out a little sigh, pressing his lips to your forehead again. “You’re fine,” he says, seemingly to both of you. “Wanna have a bath, honey? We can cuddle in there, if you like.” 

“Or…” You give him a suggestive look, and he laughs. Not exactly the response you were looking for. 

“Sorry,” he says at your frown. “Sorry, dovey, you just looked too cute.” Admittedly, that softens you a bit. Remus squeezes your hip lightly, tilting his head as he considers you with an odd half-smile. “No, no more tonight. Think I’ve got you a bit too fucked out already, hm?” 

You pout. “Am not.” 

Remus hums, leaning forward to kiss your pushed-out lips. “Right, course not.” He lifts you up a bit, slipping out from under you. “You wanna stay here while I go start the bath?” 

“No.” Your tone pitches desperately, grabbing for his wrists as he stands beside the bed. Your vision blurs. “I want to be with you, Rem.”

“Okay, okay.” He brings his hands to your waist hastily, standing you up in front of him. “You’re fine, baby, you can come with. You gonna be okay with sitting on the counter while I get it all ready for us?” 

You blink at him interestedly. “Because I’m a good girl?” 

His chin comes down on your head and his arms wrap around your shoulders. You’re not sure what’s prompted the show of affection, but you’ll take it, nosing your way into the juncture of his neck. “Sure, darling,” he says, a definite note of amusement in his voice. “My good girl.”

#remus lupin #dom!remus lupin #dom!remus #sub!reader #dom!remus x sub!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x self insert #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin smut #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin baby blurb #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin one shot #marauders #marauders fandom #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #hp marauders

[impyssadobsessions]

OKAY IDEA Danny is a police officer and works with Dick Grayson in Bludhaven. He's new to the force and often called rookie but turns out to be really good at his job. Him and Dick get along same time think the other is a little cocky until they both get to fight along side each other as like some rogues that nightwing usually fought is doing something while they're on duty. (just the two of them got stuck in a warehouse while outside cops are still trying to bust in (probably some rubble fell blocking away or something)) Danny showing off martial art skills and is like "What. My mom is a black belt." Dick does something just as impressive if not more, grinning, "My dad is too." Just them joking around. They almost have everything under control, when Danny's ghost senses activate. Dick gets hit by an ectoblast that slams him into the wall. His vision blurs as he can hear a voice taunting Danny, and Danny growling. bright lights and then he knocks out. He has a brief moment of being awake as backup comes to his aid. He learns that a new meta broke in and Danny was missing. He passes back out.. He wakes up in the hospital, worried about Danny, cursing himself. He's a vigilante.. how could he- in comes danny with a bag of fast food and balloons. "Figured I get you something you rather eat then some flowers. : D Nice to see you breathing, dick-" Dick asks about what happens but notices Danny being flighty and vague. "Oh yeah, meta kidnapped me and took me to some highrise building. Luckily nightwing came by and took care of it. Really was quite a trip. If it wasn't for the terrifying fight for my life thing, I say I wouldn't mind flying like that again." Dick cracks a smile, though inside his head he has way more questions than answers. But he cant call Danny out on any of it. So he does what bats do best.. he starts to investigate. -bad at explaining but basically dick catches danny in a lie and starts to piece together every odd thing danny ever mentioned about himself. -even better if they're partners LOL

-Also imagine danny has used his powers to keep himself or others from being shot.. plus has one of the best aim in the force, second to/on par with dick.

#dick grayson #danny fenton #police officer au #dpxdc #dp x dc #prompt #fic prompt #nightwing #danny phantom #long post

[killerkillerkillher]

Bound to Fall in Love

Angel/Demon! 141 x reader

Tags: kidnapping, sacrifices, religious references, reader is too angry to die, reader commits murder lol, canon typical violence??, reader gets a kissy on the forehead, a tad crack-ish

Inclusivity tags: reader is referred to w he/him and they/them pronouns, no bodily description, no y/n

A/n: call my brain an apple w all the worms it's got. This was just a blurb at first, but I made room in there for me to potentially make it into... something I guess.

minors dni!

"Cole, I can't fucking focus while they're just... staring at us like that."

"Ignore it, Bess. We have to finish these candles."

You wish a bolt of lightening would come down and strike all three of you at once. Or maybe the building spontaneously combusting would be better. Anything, anything, would be better at this moment than watching your boyfriend and best friend work together to light a summoning circle after having tied you up in your sleep.

For a fraction of a second, you wonder if any gods are watching, if any of them would be willing to give you a boon and allow you one last chance to punch both of these betrayers in the face.

"Okay, okay, the book," Bess mutters, going to the pick up her ritual book from the coffee table you bought. Honestly, if they were going to try to sacrifice you somewhere, your living room is one of the most disrespectful places. Probably right under your bed room.

"I'm sorry," Cole has the gaul to look down at you with a face stricken with grief. Like you're dead already. "We didn't know what else to do. We're both in bad places and you've always been so good to us, so we figured-"

"You better hope this fucking kills me." You grunt. Cole's face melts into a glare. "Because if I'm still breathing, it's going to take more than Satan's intervention to save you from me. I swear on my mother." You jerk forward, making him jump back a step.

"Cole...?" Bess looks at you, then up at Cole with unease. Cole doesn't say anything for a second, sorting his feelings out with a leer before turning to her.

"Read the book."

He drags you into the middle of their pentagram while she sings Latin words off the old book pages. The candles flicker and waver before their flames grow twice as tall. Cole rolls you onto your back and pulls a knife from his back pocket.

"I meant it when I said I'm sorry," Cole mutters. You snarl, but don't jump at him like you want to.

"Yeah? Yeah, you're sorry? Kiss my ass!" You shout over Bess's reading. "If I'm still alive after this, I'm killing you and burying you in the fucking septic tank!" You crane your head up so you can see Bess as well. "Time to get some stuff off my chest, yeah? Bess, I fucked your older brother on the day we graduated."

Her eyes go wide, and she almost stops talking, but Cole shoots her a look that forces her to continue.

"And his friend Carl, the one you had a crush on. And Cole? I never. Fucking. Finished. Ever! You are the only person I've dated who couldn't get me off." Cole's hand's twitch around the blade.

"Are you serious?"

"Does now look like a time to- ack!" You don't get to finish because Bess finished the spell and it was time for your blood to fuel it. The blade buries in your gut, turning this way and that way at measured increments. You just lay there and twitch, breathy gasps falling from your gaping mouth, the pain only throwing fuel to the fires of your rage.

"Please, we call you here! Honor us with your presence!" Bess chants. Cole step away from you when the candles roar and your vision is filled with bright red and orange.

The ground beneath you rumbles. Whispers fill your ears, nothing you can ever imagine understanding, but something tells you they're other summoners. Or maybe little souls of those who were just where you are now, with a people sacrificing them.

It's odd, you think as blood soaks your back, your hair. You thought you'd be more scared in what could be your final moments. But there's only anguish where there should be fear. Only unfettered violent tension felt in your muscles, and a tongue hungering for iron and gore. You're jaw is wound tight enough to shatter your teeth.

If you could think straight, if you weren't about to die, you might be a little concerned. Never have you wanted to sink your fingers into someone's soft bits as much as you do now. This is normal, right? A normal amount of rage for the people taking your life.

Something in your gut tells you it's not.

In the fog of your rage, you missed the appearance of a pair of men above you. They hover, leathery plum colored wings sagging. One wears a leather strap harness across his chest, while the other favors an unbuttoned silk shirt. One of them looks at you curious as the fire dies, steam and copper colored smoke bellowing from his mouth. A thick cigar hangs on his lips.

"You came! There's... two of you?" Cole gawks, then falls to his knees beside Bess. You can't help but scoff at their sniveling forms.

"We did. There are." The one without the cigar brushes back his long mohawk to get a better look at the whimpering humans. They're nothing new to them, just another set of weak little things looking to get something without putting in the work for it.

Well, they might have had to put in the work to capture you, based on the way you still squirm and fight the rope keeping your arms together. So much blood has left you. You are going to die. Yet you spend your last moments doing what most humans find to be a waste of precious time. Being angry. It's interesting.

"What do you want?" The bearded one in the silk shirt grunts out around his cigar. Bess lifts her head just a bit to speak.

"We want to make a trade. A soul for a better life for us."

There's a moment of silence. You blink your heavy lids, growing too tired to do much else anymore. Both demons look back at you, then to the kneeling humans.

"They're not dead." They say at the same time.

Bess and Cole stiffen and finally chance a glance at you. You're bleeding, a glassy look to your eye and a smile on your face, but you're not dead.

"See, Bess?" You cough up blood only to swallow it back down, "what did I tell you? The cunt can't make me come and can't... can't even make me go."

The mohawked devil pops a wicked smile, not even hiding it from his would-be contractors.

Cole fumes. "I can finish the job. Fuck, am I going to finish the job." He stands, moving to step into the circle only to yelp, the invisible border around the summoning circle becoming visible if only to shock Cole back.

"Not so fast," the bearded one spawns a scroll in his hand. He's eyes glow a molten orange as he scans it. "Section 1, clause 3, part 19 states: executioner(s) must sacrifice one(1) human soul to contractee(s)... Let's see... Here it is: Sacrificee(s) must be dead upon arrival so that proper collection can be done. If sacrificee(s) is still soul bond upon arrival, then they are made the true contractor and all work will be conducted with them."

"In other words," the mohawked one grinned, "you should have went for the heart." He taps at his chest.

"Or the neck." The other devil offers.

"Or that vein in they're thigh."

"The sephenous, Johnny."

"Yeah, that."

"No, no!" Cole grabs at his hair as Bess looks like she's about to start crying. You want to laugh. They deserve the despair. They deserve the horror in their mistake. They were going to kill you!

"That means," the devils lean back to look at you. "You're our contractor. You get two requests at the price of one, human. I suggest one of those requests includes healing you." He flicks the ashes of his cigar on your leg. You don't even have to think of what you want most right now.

"I want you to untie me." You roll on your side. They wait for the rest. Cole and Bess look like they're going to shit themselves from the pale faced looks of terror they give you. Your eyes narrow. "And a hammer. A old fashioned iron and wood handled hammer."

Another beat of silence before the infernals bend over in laughter. The room shacks, sulfuric smoke pouring from their mouths to funk up the room. Cole tries to cox Bess to her feet while they're distracted. Their feet can't move though. It's like they're glued in placed and no amount of pulling and tugging could get them loose. Shame.

"Yer a funny one, love. I'll love having your soul for a few eternities." The one in leather floats over you, tilting his head this way and that way to get a good look at you. You settle him with a neutral look. "My name is Johnny. You sure that's what you want? I think you've only got a few minutes left in you."

"Then let's hurry this up a little, huh?"

"Ooh, you heard 'em." The cigared one snickers and snaps his claws. Two contracts appear in front of your face, both written in a language you can hardly comprehend. A pen appeared in front of your mouth. "Sign on the dotted line please."

You take the quill in your mouth, dip it in the blood beneath you.

"Rah 'ere?"

"Mhm."

You lean forward to dot the paper with your sloppy signature, but bizarrely enough, it seems like the powers that be have decided that they haven't made enough appearances. The floor trembles, and you worry about your poor infrastructure for a fraction of a second, when a set of gold doors spawn right behind you. You roll back onto your back to intake everything. You swear you're hallucinating when a pair of white winged angels step out, the clouded blue of heaven at their back.

"Hello?" You greet stupidly. You must be losing your mind, right? What the fuck is happening.

"Do not sign a thing." The bronzen angel instructs. "Human, we are here as messengers. God sees great things for you in your ascension. Please do not squander that to these demons." He shoots a sharp look at the demonic pair. The angel's counterpart wears a white cloak, obscuring all but his glowing golden eyes. You half expect him to sing "Be not afraid." despite you actively shitting bricks.

Oddly enough, their appearence seems to have some sort of healing property. Your lethargy starts to clear and the blade in your gut starts to get pushed out. Nothing hurts anymore.

"Oh, so we've got a big soul on our hands here, huh?" Johnny smirks. "Price, what's the plan?"

Price the devil throws his cigar to the ground and crushes it.

"Do what we do best. Bargain."

"Don't play with us, Price." The shrouded angel grunts. He's got a mind piercing voice that's got your head ringing, and you swear it echoes despite the room being well furnished. "We can provide them with just as much, if not more, at no cost of their soul." Those gold orbs land on you. "All we ask for is your faith."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You tug at your bonds with renewed vigor. The angels wince at the mention of their Lord, but only watch as you force yourself upright. "I could not give a rat's ass who gets what! How about this? First one to get me free and a hammer in hand gets my loyalty."

There's two resounding snaps from either side of you. The ropes disappear, a hammer is in your left and right hand. You don't think deeper on what that implies. You finally stand, dropping the hammer in your nondominant hand, and march over to the two people you thought you could trust. They kneel now, seemingly ready to beg for their souls.

"Come on, don't look scared now." You drop your hands on your hips. "What happened to you finishing the job?"

"I didn't want-"

"Say it with your chest." You poke his breast plate with the iron hammer head.

"I didn't want it to come to this!" Cole yells. The divine audience doesn't say anything about it. They watch you curiously as you bounce the hammer in hand. Your soul is visible to them. What should be a glowing ball of light is a red and white morning star, all sharp edges and pulsing like a heart. Your soul will certainly not end up with the others, that much is true.

"I just... I couldn't keep up with you! Your life style, the way you act, your job. I never left good enough. Bess expressed the same thing and we just... clicked. We would have just left, but we could have never lived without struggling, so we just..." He swallows. You can't look at him anymore, hands clenching at what he says next. "The book called for someone we cared for."

''That supposed to make me feel better?" You tilt your head. Cole winces, eyes falling on your feet. You look to Bess. "Thought you were better than this. You were going to kill me. Because what, I was happy? I loved both of you, you could have just talked to me."

"We're sorry! What more do you want?" Bess sobs. You straighten up, bouncing the hammer on your hip, acting like you next action is something to deliberate. You already know what they deserve, and a flash of sadness bubbles in your chest, but it quickly passes as a hot, searing emotion burns a hole into what little hesitation you had left.

"Reckon I want your souls after all the shit you've caused." You grin before swinging the hammer back and caving in Cole's chest.

"Fuck..." is all you can say after everything is done. Cole and Bess lay in a bloody heep, all recognizable features destroyed and crushed. You pant, hands trembling and nothing but white noise and static crunching around in your head. You just killed your best friend and boyfriend. For some reason, you've never felt so light.

Someone's whistle gets followed by a clap.

"Impressive. Done that before?" Johnny chuckles. He floats closer, hand running down your back as he moves past and pokes around the pulped organs. "Shite, did them right in. Can't tell which is which."

"I've never-" you start to answer, but hands are clapped onto your shoulders, shocking you into silence.

"Well, that was a good place to start, lad. Your swings were a bit sloppy, but we can fix that." Price squeezes at your trapezius, massaging the stiffness out of them. A throat clears, and Price sighs like he forgot there was other company.

"We aren't finished. The human is our ward now, Price." The uncloaked angel snaps his finger, pulling you from Price and making you spawn between the two angels. The bronzen angel smiles down at you with teeth so white you could damn near see your reflection.

"There you are. It's nicer to have you close. My friend here is Simon and I'm-"

"Come on, Kyle, you know he's ours!" Johnny spits, his wings flaring out. "We gave him the hammer first, so piss off."

"Uh...huh." Kyle's smile falls. "I think you're a bit mistaken. Look, after executing the human's request, I have his name here." A stone slab appears in front of your face. It's smells like sunshine and warm grass. What the fuck. "His pledge to the Lord has been set and his soul already has a place next to Their throne."

"Right, right, like we don't have documentation neither." Johnny huffs. The stone disappears as a scroll appears next to the devil. The smell of sulfur and smoke wafts over to you. "His name is right there, pretty boy. Getting yer fuckin' lookers on."

Kyle ignores the rude tone and does pull out a pair of reading glasses to go over the scroll. You stand there in the silence, a little too scared to speak up. What could you do anyway? In a blind anger, you didn't really have the mind to think any of this out. Angels and devils are fighting over you because you'd stupid ass was too blood hungry to think past murder. All that can be done is for them to figure this out amongst themselves, and for you to wait for the sentencing. Heaven, or Hell?

"...Simon." Kyle slowly pulls his glasses off. "This is legit. His soul is promised to all of us."

You glance up at Simon, the scary motherfucker. He blinks. Once. Twice. Then pinches the bridge of his nose with a hagard sigh.

"Shit."

That's not good.

Johnny laughs, Price grinning like a dog with a bone. Kyle marches over to you, patting your shoulders with an awkward smile. His demeanor reminds you of the way your mom acted when she said she was going to divorce your dad. And all you can think is "Not this again." Are you going to be spending your afterlife going between heaven and hell forever? Does God get weekends because Their day is Sunday or whatever?

"We need to go and talk this over with some superiors. We'll clean this up," Kyle snaps and the gore is gone, so is the ritual circle and candles. "And we'll get back to you in the morning." He places a feather light kiss on your forehead, and suddenly you're squeaky clean and in the softest set of pajamas you've ever worn. "Stay safe while we're gone and don't allow these two to influence you. Get some rest."

"Blah, blah, blah," Johnny mocks from the sidelines. Price tilts his head, and there's nothing but amusement behind those eyes. Yeah, this is exactly like your parents divorce.

"O-okay? I mean, I'll try." You shrug.

Simon nods. "That's all you can do." He steps back into the golden doorway and Kyle falls in stride. You make some distance, and with a final wave from a white toothed angel, the doors shut with a slam that shakes the house's foundation.

"Just you and us now, stud."

You turn with a comedic slowness to the devils. Price chuffs and floats forward. His assess you, takes you in in all your fluffy white pajama glory, and it seems he finds what he wants when he nods.

"Guess we've got to talk with top brass to see what's going on ourselves. Pity we couldn't stick around longer." The devil's eyes never meet yours, staying glued to various parts of your face. They hop from ears, to your eyebrows, down to your lips. Christ on a bike, is it getting hot in here? His blue, glowing cerulean eyes appear to flash with something.

"Shite, yer right." Johnny groans. "I hate going down there."

"Suck it up, love. You know how I feel about sharing." Price drops his interest in you like an old toy and takes Johnny close by his waist. You watch with a lead poisoned stare as their noses touch intimately, words you can't hear being exchanged. It's kinda of awkward to just stand there and watch but your brain isn't really functioning well enough to tell you to stop.

"Hey, stud." You blink, refocusing on the pair. Johnny seems to have climbed his partner, his legs on his waist and arms around his neck. Price makes busy opening a portal to hell in your livingroom with one hand, supporting Johnny under his ass with the other. "Sit pretty, yeah? 'll be back before those two arseholes, promise."

"Right... yeah." You nod. "Uh, be safe?"

"Be safe, he says." Price mutters. "Cute." Johnny waves until Price steps through the infernal hole and falls from view. The portal closes right behind him so you'd have no hopes of seeing anything but the red hue of smog and dust.

And here you are. A little dazed, a little sad, probably holding back a break down from the last hour of events. But you're alive and you're healed. There's no blood to clean, you're in comfortable pajamas. Could probably sleep right now if your brain would stop for a minute, but it doesn't look like that's in the plans.

So you look for something to do. Cole and Bess and moved around all your furniture to make the summoning circle. Guess you can start there, right?

#ghost mw2 #price mw2 #cod modern warfare #gaz mw2 #soap mw2 #call of duty #angel/devil au #141 x reader #141 x male reader #poly!141 x reader #let me cook! #LET ME COOK!

[willowser]

now i wake up by your side—

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 2.8k+

tags: u.a. college au, canon-compliant, reader has a telekinesis/telepathic quirk, references (and potential spoilers) for the current arc in the manga, angst, a lot of secret hidden feelies

tysm to @alrightberries for giving me the opportunity to bring this lil thought of yours to life 🥺 your patience and understanding during the time it took me to write this is so appreciated it, and tbh you're the reason i'm even still here right now LOL you're so sweet, and i hold your kindness so close to my heart. i wish i could convey how much it means to me. i hope i did this even a lil justice !! happy birthday dear !!!! 🥺🩷✨️

Sero dreams of watching the sunrise on top of the Roppongi Observatory.

It’s a beautiful sight, one you’ve never seen with your own eyes, but you soak in the warmth flushing across his cheeks and the anticipated break of morning through the clouds. When he takes in a hefty breath, you feel the spring chill sting inside his chest, crisp and clear, like it’s you breathing instead of him, and it’s almost comforting enough to lull you to sleep, too.

But a clay pot shattering against a nearby bench has your eyes springing open, ripped from the haven you’d been lost to. 

You have to blink several times in order to fight through the exhaustion wearing you thin, but the evening returns to you in small, bleary doses. It’s the middle of the night—or at least it was when you’d first wandered out to the training field, and you can’t be sure how many hours have passed since then. Across the yard, you’ve successfully managed to carry four pots from the garden plot near the entrance all the way to your feet with your Quirk— but number five sits in pieces in the grass.

You’ll have to clean that up by morning or Eraser will make you run laps until you puke. Again.

Kirishima flits through your mind in a suit and tie: not as a Hero, but a spy of some kind, chasing down men with masks covering their faces and wielding a gun that looks odd in his hands, even in his own dream. Despite being back in the dorms, stories up and near the end of the hall, you can see it—hear him yelling out at the criminal to stop, feel the thud of the ground under his feet. His own determination blares through you like a freight train, as strong and damning as he is, and you fight to force yourself back inside your own shoes as you try to carry another pot.

Recovery Girl used to tell you that you did this to yourself: all your worry about losing sleep psyching yourself out of it completely, chasing it away before it even had the chance. When everyone is getting ready for bed, heading out of the common room and hitting the showers, you can feel that suspense building; what will come across tonight while everyone dreams? Fantasies? Or nightmares?

During the day it’s easier to drown out the foot-traffic of everyone’s thoughts—you do it without trying, now—but your brain needs rest, too. Letting go of control for even a second, just to get some shut eye is—

Something frightening is outlined in your peripheral vision, the dash of a pale shape you aren’t able to discern before it’s gone. The air turns metallic and stale and you can hear water sloshing, though you’re nowhere near the pools. All your blood rushes in your ears and your fingers curl, like you’re gripping your seat—gripping the edge of the couch in the common room, where you’d been sitting beside Mina when Kaminari put on that horror movie. The one with the—

“The hell are you doin’?”

Your eyes snap open for the hundredth time that night—show over, credits rolling—and it’s Bakugou. Standing only feet away from the new set of clay shards of your failure, tangible and real and staring at you with an intensity not even your dreams could mimic.

You blink, eyes stinging and heavy. You must look insane. “Oh, hey,” the voice that comes out of you is far-away, chartered off to distant lands, and he notices immediately, focus razor-sharp despite how late it is. “What did you say?”

Bakugou wrinkles his nose, like he’s offended at having to repeat himself. “I said, what the hell are you doin’? It’s nearly 2 in the morning and you’re out here throwin’ shit around in your fuckin’ pajamas.”

Almost on cue, the breeze brushes past your legs, chilly enough to have you shivering, and you peek down at them as if you don’t know what they look like. The sweater you’re wearing is from second year and the U.A. logo is half-worn off, but it’s the comfiest thing you own and if you’re going to be plagued all night by the forced intimacy of your classmates’ dreams—you at least want to be cozy.

When you look back up at him, Bakugou is pointedly looking away, taking interest in something other than your wimpy state of dress. 

It dawns on you then that he’s out here, too, in sweats and a simple back sweatshirt, hair a messy, golden halo in the pale, buzzing field lights. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think his face was a little rosy, but—maybe you’re seeing things.

Still. Being out and away from everyone, alone with Bakugou, makes your stomach tighten horribly. Like you’ve done too many sit-ups.

You try to brush off your sudden bout of shyness, because you know he’ll clock that in no time, too. “Well, I could ask you the same thing.” At the raise of your eyebrows, he only tchs, and casts you a filthy look. “But I think maybe I’ll just mind my own business.”

The face he makes is so awful and hot-blooded that you laugh, truly and earnestly, enough that a headache pulses to life. You wince, and the stream of pain that shoots down the middle of your skull brings back that image of Kirishima’s action-thriller: blood and knives, the sound of skin on skin, a fist against cheekbones, the ugly snap of breaking—

“Oi.”

Bakugou is closer than before, when you’re grounded back inside yourself. At least no pots have been broken this time. Less to clean up.

“Sorry,” you shoot him an apologetic smile that you know he must hate. “It’s just so—” your hand feels like it’s made of lead, but you drag it up to massage slow circles into your temple, trying not to grit your teeth and worsen the pounding in your head. “So loud sometimes.”

He’s silent until the pain ebbs out, and when you can blink without flinching, you peek up to catch how intently he’s watching your face. In the night like this, his eyelashes seem darker, longer, a kind of haunting beauty you would dream about, if you could get some sleep.

Again, you think of Kaminari’s horror movie, legs pressed against Mina’s under the heavy comforter she’d brought down from her room. It’s warm, the kind of pink, fluffy thing you’d imagine a girl like her to have—but it didn’t stop you from shivering every time you chanced a glance at Bakugou and found him already staring back.

The heat in your cheeks spreads to the back of your neck, so immediate that you think you might start sweating. “Dreams and stuff,” you murmur, by way of an explanation, “nightmares, sometimes.”

Bakugou's frown deepens, the muscle in his jaw tightening once as he grits his teeth. “What, you can just…hear that shit all night?”

“Usually,” you shrug, “It just comes in, you know? And I—” you steal another glance at him, aware, then, of just how intrusive you might sound. The veil of privacy is thin between you and others, and they don't often like being reminded of that. “Not for you, though. I don't—I don't get anything from you.”

And it's true, frustratingly enough. Not that you are ever intentionally peeking into anyone's head, but things slip through, occasionally—sudden reactions, wild, loose trains of thought. 

Bakugou's face twists, regardless, and you're reminded of all the times you've been forced to spar together, at Eraser's behest. One of the smartest in your class, quick on his feet and never without a plan; every time you've managed to get a hand on Bakugou, there's been nothing but a sea-shore calm.

It's hard to do and, at this point in your life, you've seen a thousand people try it—but he's the only one that's ever succeeded in keeping you at bay.

Nothing in his expression changes, but all your nerves spread to your voice until it shakes. “You're—I don't look in there, of course, but it's—you've always been…” Bakugou is terrible at taking compliments, you know that, almost as bad as you are at giving them. “Pretty, I guess.”

Awful, at giving them.

Embarrassment floods him, suddenly stained pink as he curls into himself. “Piss off,” he barks, and though he’s scowling at you in what must be disgust—you can’t help but to smile at how aggressively bashful he is.

You almost get the guts to make matters worse, just because you can. Admit how handsome you’ve come to find him, after the last few years, until his face is steaming in the sweet nighttime chill; the kind of intimacy you wouldn’t mind dreaming about again and again.

The absence of his thoughts are a comfort for your tired mind, has all the harsh edges of night fading into something a little easier to swallow, to breathe in. You know he does it on purpose as a strictly defensive move, but you almost want to thank him. For the quiet.

You don’t know if it’s from you or him, but when you reach a hand up to hover near his temple, the air buzzes between you, gently. Charged with that same thing that had you unable to look away from him in the common room only days ago. “In here, I mean,” you murmur, and the smile you pull on feels lame, but it’s as genuine as ever. “I don’t know, I don’t know how you do it. But it’s…nice.”

You’ve seen him die a thousand times.

Mostly in Midoriya’s dreams, sometimes in Eraser’s when he nods off during last period, but that horror—like many others, from that day—stains you all. When dinner is put away and showers are finished and the lights go out and the flood gates open, someone almost always relives the ugliness of it all; you’re more familiar with that moment than you are with any of your own.

Here and now, you close your eyes and see Jirou staring back at you, face beautiful and full of hope. You see Kirishima’s torn suit jacket and the blood on his cheek and the empty gun in his hand, the most dedicated secret agent. Aoyama is dreaming of his mother, something warm that makes you feel like you’re dazzling, too.

And yet—Bakugou is silent. Even right in front of you. Even after everything.

If anyone deserves the peace and quiet, you suppose it ought to be him.

“When’s the last time you got any sleep?”

You blink until his blurry figure is clear, and it’s like you can physically feel whatever energy you had left seeping from your body at the mere mention of sleep. “Maybe a morning or two ago,” you tell him truthfully, “I usually pass out after a few rounds of ‘throwin’ shit around’.”

Bakugou only stares at you as he digests the words, and once he’s gotten them down, he shakes his head before looking out over the mess you’ve made of the training field. With his head turned like this, you can take in the full weight of his scar—the one that’s wide and still baby-pink across his cheek. 

You almost get the guts to tell him he’s handsome. Almost.

Frustration is evident on his face when he looks back at you, but his voice comes out softer than you expect, like he's struggling to get out any words at all. “Can’t keep doin’ this,” he chastises. “Can’t be a Hero if you’re half asleep all the time. Gotta figure this shit out.”

“I am,” you give a lazy wave to your pots, “What’s wrong with this solution?”

“It's ass.”

“Alright, you have any better ideas, pretty boy?”

He bristles, visibly enough to have you snickering, and—you’re not sure what you expect of him; to continue his griping or leave you to your own devices, building his walls up high as he always does. Ever the fighter, ever the protector; maybe it’s a good thing, you tell yourself, because you’re weak like this and one of you needs to be thinking straight.

Despite his flush, there’s a playfulness to his grouchy expression, his raspy tone—and it has you leaning too far into things you don’t know how to name.

You never know what to expect of him.

There’s the slightest brush of skin against the back of your hand, and when you drop your eyes to the slowly-dwindling space between you—the rough pads of his fingers are touching you, gently. Softly enough to be the breeze, if it weren’t so warm.

You’re afraid to look at him, suddenly, like it will break whatever spell the night is casting over both of you; instead you press your lips together to stop their wobbling and the smile fighting to give you away. You’re waiting for that sea-shore calm, that quiet comfort, whatever it is he’s trying to offer you, strangely enough, in this moment. When you turn your hand over to catch his, the air buzzes again and the blood rushes in your ears.

You focus and—all you can see is your own face staring back at you. In a flash, like he’s cycling through his cards in a hurry, trying to find the best one.

You, across the arena during the entrance exam. You, in the locker room before the Sport's Festival. You, sitting in the common room during Christmas. You, ruined with tears and your own blood and covered in grime, on the darkest day of your life.

You, now. On the field in the stale light, prettier than you think you must look, for being so exhausted, the lines of your smile deep as you grin up at him.

—And then there's nothing.

The absence of noise is louder than anything. A stark, white silence that cuts through; a different world trickling away. A single touch and a little focus is all it takes to take root inside someone’s head and that’s always felt like a weapon, but now it feels like coming inside from a snowstorm, relief shuddering down your spine. Everyone else's fears and nerves and heartaches dissolve until they’re only a bitter taste at the back of your throat. Something far, far behind you

There’s just Bakugou. A strong silence that feels impenetrable, invulnerable to the outside. The steady beat of his heart is comforting in a way you didn’t realize it would be, has that bloody, dead-eyed image of him shifting into something else: another moment in Midoriya’s memories, of his silhouette standing in the sun, tall and fierce and alive.

Returned. Here and now with you, after numerous, unforeseen turns of events. You wonder if the ease surrounding you is his own, something else he’s sharing—or if this is just how it feels to be with him after so long. Maybe in the past it was different—you know it was; during the entrance exam, during the Sport’s Festival—but now you feel more relaxed than you ever have. A reminder that, no matter how dark the nights get, the sun is only just beyond the horizon. 

Returned, comforting and quiet.

(You won't know this until much later, but your hand will go slack in Katsuki's and his fingers will tighten around your own because he's not ready to let go yet. When your knees buckle, he'll already be there, awkwardly holding you up against his shoulder as his face flames and his eyes dart around the empty field, checking for any shitty snoops.

Ears is always up damn late, too, and there's a decent chance he'd get caught trying to haul you back to your room on the third fuckin’ floor, so there's really no better option than to gently lower you both to the grass. After a couple of minutes with no movement, the field lights will shut off and only the distant glow of the stars will remain.)

(You won't know this until much later, but Katsuki will arrange the both of you so that your head isn't slumped on the hard ground, but resting on the plush of his bicep, an arm around your shoulders so that the warmth can be shared between you both. His heart will pound hard enough in his chest to be worrisome, and every time you shuffle and scoot closer to him and nudge your nose into his sweater—Katsuki will fight to stay open and true, only honest with you in this wordless way.)

(You won't know this until the sun rises high behind your lids and your bones ache and he’s shown you things he could never say, but it's the best sleep you think you've ever gotten. With him, under the stars, surrounded by his calm and his constant.)

(You won't remember this but in your dream—your real dream, born from with solace Katsuki offers you—the morning will rise and settle in and he'll walk you back to your room despite the stares and in the elevator when you're alone, his lips will touch yours and you'll feel his  heart in your chest and his nerves in your stomach and his fear and relief all in one.)

(And right away, when you wake up, you'll finally have a name for this thing that's been blooming between you both for as long as you can remember—and he will, too.)

#i was so nervous about getting the quirk right kahfkahf #and then i was so nervous about it being fluffy enough bc the first draft of this was too angsty ?? #SO I REWROTE IT LOL #i hope this is okay !! 🥺 #i love the idea of bakugou being able to express how he feels in emotion only #that the fear he doesn't know how to name or how to explain or understand is conveyed to you somehow #whenever he touches you #🥺 #tysm for giving me the chance to write it !!! #literally no but seriously you're the only reason i haven't privated this blog again LMAOOO tysm 🥺 #✿ willow writes #✿ one shot: bakugou

[acourtofthought]

Lol your lengthy posts are going to be hilarious to read once Azriel and Elain's book is announced. Sjm had elriel and nessian on her mind since acomaf and Lucien is the sole reason she introduced Vassa. She even gave them a name in acowar, "A bird of flame … and a lord of fire.". Her reiterating, "not much has changed from that initial pitch" is not the confirmation eluciens and gwynriels think it is.

"A Lord of Fire" they say.

"Made for Vassa" they say.

Nessian:

Quinlar:

Jassa:

(and no, Lucien is not jealous, he's annoyed at once again being stuck between lovers quarreling).

More often than not when SJM uses "at each other's throats", it's a sign of romance between two characters. Especially for two unattached humans who share the same vision for the humans they are both trying to lead. SJM telling us that Lucien often has to play mediator and break up the arguments between Jurian and Vassa doesn't really hint at much fire between Vassa and Lucien. So very odd for a "bird of flame and a lord of fire, don't you think?" 🤷.

I like Vassa but she doesn't seem to give a shit about the fae when Lucien clearly does as he goes back and forth between the human lands, the NC and Spring and she.... stays in the human lands. Claiming they're endgame because Feyre gave them a "nickname" while ignoring that a book later she acknowledges that Vassa and Jurian are Lucien's friends .....probably the actual reason she introduced Vassa to Lucien's storyline. You're really missing the forest from the trees on that ship. Also, if Vassa is Lucien's endgame and "the sole reason" she was introduced then isn't it fair to say Gwyn being Az's endgame is the sole reason she was introduced?

I love a good laugh and I've got no problems laughing at myself if I'm wrong.

Something tells me I'm not going to have to in this case I though.

But I do thank you, as an E/riel for dedicating so much of your time to reading my lengthy posts. It's really quite kind of you.

#elucien #pro elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #anti e/riel #pro lucien vanserra #elain x lucien #lucien and elain #pro elain archeron #pro jassa #jassa

[d0llylove]

♡furry feline [3]

♡pairing: saiki kusuo x f!reader

♡synopsis: saiki notices that you had a bad day, getting annoyed by your whining about how much you longed to see the neighbourhood cat, he decided to take matters into his own hands to shut you up.

♡t/w: saiki turns into a cat lol, srsly slow burn like really slow I'm warning u LOL, implied that reader cries from stress at job, sorry I forgot the colour of saiki's eyes 💀

♡link to pt1 , pt2

"please, please, please, let me see that cat again, just one pat, just one!"

yet again, it was your annoying voice ringing in kusuo's ears again. summer break is usually saiki's favourite time of the year, a break from all the people who loves to bother him so much.

however, recently, his neighbour (you) has gotten a part-time job. constantly coming home whining about how tired you were, and the worst of all, insistently praying to see the stray cats that roamed around the neighbourhood.

your feet dragged against the pavement, awfully loud against saiki's ears, you kept letting out continuous sighs as if the winds weren't loud enough. it was almost ten pm, the moonlight that shined against your skin almost made you look breath-taking. (even though saiki can't see lol and even if he did he probably would never admit it)

this wasn't the first time you came home letting out such loud complaints. even though you were the one who signed up for the job, he could tell you were tired from all the customers that you dealt with. he almost finds it humorous how you would rant to yourself excessively, retelling the story of how a customer was rude to you in an over-exaggerated manner.

today was particularly different, even though you often ranted to yourself, you would usually just laugh it off. but this time, your voice was filled with a hint of sadness. perhaps it was the accumulation of unlucky things that occurred.

you were almost reaching home passing by saiki's residence when your eyes landed on a pearl white feline that stood in the middle of the pavement. it's head adorned with two odd pink balls and emerald green glasses that sat above it's nose.

you froze in place.

'are the gods finally answering to my prayers?'

'no you idiot, its just your neighbour,' saiki thinks to himself sarcastically.

it's violet eyes that sparkled behind it glasses that seemed to stare into your soul, you stood for a moment, contemplating whether to approach the cat or not.

getting into a squatting position, you slowly waddled towards the furry feline.

'good grief, what is wrong with you..'

"can I pet you?" you whispered, waddling towards it.

'you have 5 minutes.' saiki thought to himself, yet again with his sarcastic remarks.

saiki's senses have heightened even more in his cat form, he could easily take in your subtle sweet scent of perfume as you crouched in front of him. if he were to be honest, he was curious about how you would look under the moonlight, obviously without his x-ray vision.

you reached out, letting the cat sniff your hand. it's soft fur that rubbed against your hand, your heart fluttered as you revelled in the sight of the cat pushing its furry head into your hand.

wet? he feels something wet hitting his head. the cat looks up at you, watching in shock as tears ran down your cheeks. stroking the cat gently, giving it one last pet before getting up.

you whispered a gentle thank you, before turning away, hands wiping your tears away, a stupid smile that was plastered on your face as you walked towards your house.

saiki waited a little, watching as you went through your gate. you glanced back, seeing as the cat stayed in its place. letting out a little squeal you walked into your house, steps bouncing a little.

finally, he transformed back to his human form.

'good grief, aren't you emotional..' saiki let out a scoff, walking back to his house.

"what the hell?!" it was your voice? it was you? he thought you went into your house already.

'shit.'

#kusuo saiki #kusuo x reader #saiki k #saiki kusuo x reader #saiki no psi nan #saiki x reader

[thefrogdalorian]

Dincember Day 12: Warmth

Word Count: 5182 Rating: General Summary: After you find yourself caught up in a rainstorm that drenches you to the bone on the forest planet you call home, an unexpectedly kind Mandalorian helps you to get warm again. Content Warnings: None! Author's Note: I honestly do not know what happened today, this spiralled out of control into something more than I expected lol. I just wanted a Din meet-cute and a little cuddling for warmth... over 5k words later here we are. It was like I was POSSESSED and just had to get this one out of me. But I really enjoyed it and I honestly might come back to this in the future, could definitely see this being the start of a longer fic. So if you enjoyed it and would maybe like to see that please let me know!

Link to read on AO3 | My Dincember Masterlist

There was always a distinctive feeling in the air just before a rainstorm hit. It was as though, for a brief moment before the chaos, tranquillity prevailed. As you walked along the vine-covered path, you felt your stomach drop as you noticed the telltale signs. The temperature had dropped; the leaves swayed ominously. You had lived on this planet long enough to be aware of all the warning signs of an impending storm, so the second you saw the grey clouds roll in over the tall tops of the lush trees on the forest planet you called home, you kicked yourself for leaving your cabin in such a hurry, without even your coat for warmth or protection from the rain. 

Before you could react to make a move and seek out shelter, the heavens opened and all hell broke loose. You were suddenly assaulted by freezing cold droplets of water that pelted down with such ferocity that they almost felt like bullets. It was relentless. The water seemed was everywhere, clouding your vision and distorting your senses. It was impossible to see or breathe properly as the brutal beads of water pummelled you unforgivingly. You decided that the best thing to do was run to the side of the path and throw your back against a tree trunk in order to get some shelter from the leaves high above. You stood there for a few moments, catching your breath as you cursed yourself for being so ill-equipped to deal with the planet's climate that you knew painfully well. This was the kind of thing that happened to the tourists who came to the forests of this planet for hiking trips, not a local like you who had been stuck on this backwater skughole for your entire life. 

Eventually, the rain finally ceased; the storm clouds parted. You breathed a deep sigh of relief. But the damage was done. Now, you were painfully aware of how overwhelmingly cold you were. Your teeth chattered as you stood there, drawing your arms around yourself in a pathetic attempt to garner some semblance of warmth and comfort.

The errands you had intended to run when you set out from your cabin were now long forgotten. You just wanted to return home and soak yourself in a scalding hot bath. But things would not be that straightforward. Now that the rain had left, the dark clouds had been replaced by the equally dark night that was beginning to creep in as the sky darkened. You groaned. You had only intended to leave the cabin briefly to pick up some supplies from a settlement a short distance away. Conditions were fine when you set off and you believed there would be no storm today. How wrong you had been.

You sighed and tried to focus your mind. Was there any chance of encountering any civilization nearby so that you could at least improve your odds of getting back safely and not get mauled by the various terrifying beasts that called this remote forest planet home after darkness descended? Then you remembered the small camp of various sized huts that weren’t too far away. The camp lay in the opposite direction to your home, but it was worth the slight detour if you were to make it back safely. 

So you turned your back to the direction of your cabin and began walking towards the camp. You knew your best bet now was the small settlement of huts ahead. Hopefully someone staying there would take pity on you and give you a torch so that you could light your way back to the warmth and sanctuary of your cabin. 

As you got closer to the clearing that the camp was located in, you noticed that all the lights in the cabins seemed to be extinguished. Your heart dropped, there was no one here. It was the rainy season after all, a time of year when there were fewer tourists visiting. You were about to turn and leave, utterly dejected and worrying how in Maker’s name you would make it home. But then you remembered there was one final row of huts in the trees. They were slightly more secluded, lying just behind some trees that separated them from the clearing where the main camp was.

It appeared that they were all vacant too. You had almost lost all hope, but then something glinted in the corner of your eye from the farthest hut. It caused you to stop in your tracks as your frazzled, frozen brain struggled to piece together what it was that you were seeing. The gleaming silhouette in the entryway did not look like it was human. You briefly wondered whether it was a large droid. But as you got closer, you realised that it was no droid at all.

You noticed a man clad in impressive shiny armour leaning against the door frame, his helmet inclined towards you as though he was watching you intently. There was something about knowing that his gaze was probably fixed on you that made you feel slightly lightheaded. It was ridiculous because you were unable to see his eyes behind the T-visor. Yet somehow, you just knew that his eyes were trained on you.

You were intrigued by this figure in the cabin. He was definitely not the kind of visitor that you usually saw come to this planet. You walked closer towards him; it was as though something was drawing you to him, an imperceptible force carrying you towards this curious man. It went against all your instincts. You had to be tough to survive on this planet and wandering towards the cabin of random men was a surefire way to meet a grisly end. Whoever this man was, he was intimidating behind all that armour. Plus, you were in a secluded spot where he could easily do you harm if he so wished. There would be no one around to hear. But if you did not find warmth and a torch, you were as good as dead anyway. 

As you approached the towering figure who loomed in the doorframe of the cabin, you noticed how the warm orange glow presumably coming from a lit fire in the cabin was illuminating his armour. When you were a few steps away, the man pushed himself up off the door, as though he was standing to attention and sensing danger from you. You suddenly felt awfully intrusive. But then the man nodded at you, as if he was inviting you to address him. So you did.

“S-sorry to bother you,” You said timidly, your teeth chattering as you struggled to speak through the cold. You suddenly felt incredibly awkward. “I got caught in the rai-rainstorm and I was wo-wondering whether I c-c-could maybe dry off-ff a little and bo-borrow a torch, if y-you have one, before I head back to my ca-cabin.""

The man stood there for a few seconds, clenching and unclenching his fists as though he was considering your words. Then he spoke, and you were stunned by how gravelly and deep his voice was. “The rain was pretty intense,” He nodded. “You can come inside to get warm, if you’d like.”

All logic told you that this was going to end terribly. That perhaps, entering the cabin of a random stranger – a Mandalorian no less, the formidable, deadly warrior race – was not the smartest thing to do. But desperation breeds carelessness. And there was something so about his voice, a certain warmth to it despite his steely exterior that made you want to follow him anywhere he asked. 

When you stepped across the threshold and entered the cabin, your fears of meeting your doom were instantly allayed. You could tell that this man was going to be no threat because there was a child playing on the rug by the fire of the simple, one room cabin. It was a fascinating creature, quite unlike anything you had ever seen before. You were curious about what a Mandalorian was doing with a little one like that. Was it his son? A pet?

“Take a seat by the fire, I’m sure it will warm you up in no time,” The man offered, gesturing towards the fire that burned in the stone fireplace. “I can get you some dry clothes.”

You did as he said and sat on the rug, close to the fire, next to the child who had stopped playing with its wooden blocks and was looking at you curiously, its little head tilted to the side as if wondering what this sudden intrusion into their cabin was. You smiled at the child, hoping to diffuse the tension of the situation with the little one while you waited for the Mandalorian to return with the change of clothes he had promised you.

“I don’t know if they’re the correct size for you but I hope they fit,” The Mandalorian said as he returned with a set of warm, dry clothes. You had never been more grateful to see such a simple pair of cotton trousers and shirt in your life. “You can, uh, change in the fresher, if you’d like.”

You nodded in gratitude and walked to the fresher. The cabin was one room with a small kitchen and table, a couch facing the fire and a bed in the corner. So the fresher really was the only place you would get any privacy. You found that peeling your soaked clothes off your body and replacing them with the thin cotton garments instantly made a difference and your teeth stopped chattering. 

You walked back into the main room and saw how the Mandalorian was now standing by the fire, holding the little green child in his arms and rocking him softly. You stood there awkwardly, feeling as though you had clearly intruded into an intimate moment. It was also abundantly clear to you now that the child was related to The Mandlaorian. You wondered if he looked the same underneath all that armour, whether he too had green leathery skin like the child.

The Mandalorian brought a gloved finger to his lips and continued to rock the child, commanding you to stay quiet. It was a directive you followed as you stood there, still trembling slightly after the loss of the warm fire. The Mandalorian rocked the child for a few more moments, but you noticed the way his helmet kept lingering in your direction. Several times, he shook his head after looking at you and looked in the opposite direction, as though trying to forget that you were there.

You remained fixed to the spot until he placed the child into a crib. You watched as he brought a gloved hand down to caress his forehead gently. You felt warmth pool deep in your chest at watching this warrior, who so many would probably be terrified by at first glance, make such a tender gesture towards such a tiny, helpless being. Your preconceived notions about him had been entirely wrong.

Then, the Mandalorian gestured towards the fire as if inviting you to sit down once again. You padded back across the cabin gratefully and took a spot on the rug by the fire, reaching your hands out over the fire to warm a part of your body that had not yet warmed up after the terrible rainstorm. 

“Can I get you something to eat?” The Mandalorian asked, you were stunned by his hospitality and the care he was showing towards you. 

His question caused a loud rumble of approval from your stomach. It had been hours since you had eaten, you appreciated the offer. “That’s very kind of you, thank you. I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

“Of course,” The Mandalorian nodded as he pushed himself up from the floor and headed towards the kitchen to fix you a plate of food.

You sat, watching the brilliant yellow and orange flames dance in the fireplace. The crackling of the fire, combined with the visuals and the warmth it generated, instantly calmed you and warmed you all over. You suddenly felt exhausted. A quick trip out to run some errands had turned into something entirely different than you had ever anticipated. You were ripped from your musings by the sound of footsteps approaching behind you. You turned to face your host, who loomed over you.

As the Mandalorian handed you the plate, you noticed that he had removed his gloves, revealing his bare hands. His skin was nothing like the child’s at all, it was tan with smatterings of dark hair. It seemed as though he was human, after all. You stared for a few seconds longer than was probably appropriate before you shook your head, bringing out of your trance. You took the plate of fruit and bread appreciatively. 

“Thank you,” You whispered gratefully as you took the plate from his hands. The Mandalorian just nodded before he disappeared into the fresher, clearly giving you some space. You sensed that your presence was stirring emotions in him that you weren't entirely sure were all pleasant.

You took a deep breath before you began to eat the selection of food that he had provided for you. The way his visor seemed drawn towards you, giving you lingering glances… you wondered if he felt the electricity too, or whether it was all in your head. Perhaps you were reading something in the situation that you wanted to be there, rather than the reality. You tried to put those thoughts to the back of your mind as you tucked into the food the Mandalorian had provided. 

After you had finished the food, you intended to thank the Mandalorian for his hospitality, ask for a torch and leave. But when he emerged from the fresher, events unfolded quite differently. As he stalked back across the room towards you, you found that you could not take your eyes off him. Everything about him, from the way he held himself with unmistakable confidence to manner in which he walked across the room, to the way his armour reflected the soft light emanating from the fire until it was almost glowing. It was impossible to tear your eyes away, he was enthralling to look at.

“Thank you for the food…” You said, leaving a gap where you hoped the Mandalorian might interject with his name, but he did not. So you continued: “I really appreciate you allowing me in. I can bring the clothes back tomorrow. I don’t live too far from here. So, if I could borrow a torch, then I’ll be on my way.”

You heard a deep sigh from his vocoder as he clenched his fists, his visor still firmly fixed in your direction. “I cannot allow you to walk back through the jungle when it’s so dark outside,” The Mandalorian said, his voice firm as though he was leaving no room for debate on the matter. “I insist you stay the night, walk back in the morning when it's light. I can sleep on the couch, you are welcome to the cot."

“Oh… you don’t have to do that,” You said, feeling your cheeks warm. Truthfully, you felt mortified that he was caring for you like this, as though you were a pathetic, helpless specimen. You lived here, you should be better than this.

“No I insist,” The Mandalorian said with a firm nod, “Please, you are my guest.”

“Okay…” You exhaled, deciding this man was not someone you particularly wanted to argue with, given the impressive array of weapons that you had noticed were attached to the various parts of his armour. “Thank you.”

The Mandalorian just nodded again. You had discovered that he was a man of few words, which was a shame since you thought he had an incredibly alluring voice. You walked across the cabin to the fresher to wash your face before you slept, using the cold water that you splashed on your face to ground yourself. This entire situation was entirely ridiculous. Something like this did not just happen to someone like you, whose life was so utterly monotonous in every way.

You emerged from the fresher to find the Mandalorian getting himself comfortable on the couch, a blanket slung over his legs up to his waist, as the last embers of the fire burnt out in the fireplace. You wordlessly headed across the room to the cot and nestled yourself in between the blankets. There was no way to tell whether he was asleep, given the curious fact that he appeared to sleep in his helmet. Perhaps it was just because he was around you, a stranger. You didn’t know enough about Mandalorian culture to know whether such a thing was normal for them and it felt rude to ask such a personal question of a man you had just met.

You were getting yourself comfortable in the cot, with its heavy blankets and soft pillows, when the deep voice of the Mandalorian sounded from across the room.

“Goodnight,” The Mandalorian whispered from across the room.

“Goodnight,” You responded, a small smile on your face.

You wondered whether he was currently going through the same sensation as you were, of feeling immediately comfortable in his presence. There was a warmth and comfort to him which went deeper than the very literal warmth that he had provided to you after you were caught up in the rainstorm. Perhaps it was the way he cared for his child or the plate of food he had carefully arranged for you. Regardless, it felt as though there was something strangely familiar about the Mandalorian, like you had known him for your entire life. That was a strange notion, considering you had never even encountered a Mandalorian before. They were a fairytale, something that parents told their children about. You were stunned that they still existed, especially after the rumours of a Great Purge against the Mandalorians that had reached your planet despite its tiny size and location in the Outer Rim. 

You could not deny that both the cabin and the Mandalorian had helped to warm you. The biting, penetrating cold that had caused you to take such a risk on a stranger, a risk that had paid off. The warmth came not just from the fire and the thick blankets; but his calm, steady voice and strangely soothing presence, even clad in the hard, metallic armour. But it appeared that your brush with the rainstorm had left a lasting impact that was deciding now, in the silent, stillness of the cabin – where a child slept mere feet from you – to make itself known.

It appeared that, despite the thick blankets of the cot, you still could not get warm:

Achoo!

You sneezed. Loudly. You closed your eyes and bit your lip in frustration, completely mortified that you were disturbing the peace in such a violent way.

Achoo!

Another sneeze forced its way out of your body. You shut your eyes again, any warmth you felt had now dissipated. You felt terrible and hoped with every fibre of your being that the child would not be awakened by the terrible racket that you were involuntarily causing.

Achoo!

You had tried your best to suppress that one, for fear of waking up the child who was sleeping in the crib a few feet away, but it only seemed to make the sneeze be torn from your body even more violently. You were deeply embarrassed. This man had given up a part of his home to you and you could not stop disturbing him with your sneezes.

Achoo!

After another particularly loud sneeze, you heard the unmistakable sound of the Mandalorian shuffling from the sofa, his armour clanking together.

“Are you alright?” The Mandalorian asked, voice full of concern as he leaned over the foot of your cot.

“Ju….ju…just…” You stammered.

Achoo!

There was another one. “Sorry,” You sniffed, “I can’t stop sneezing!” You whined in frustration as the Mandalorian stood there, his imposing presence towering over your cot, unmoving and observing the pathetic scene before him of his guest being caught up in a terrible sneezing fit.

“Perhaps… um… I mean…” The Mandalorian stuttered, seemingly unsure of himself. You raised your eyebrows at him slightly, stunned that this usually composed warrior was struggling to get the words out in your presence. “A quick way to warm up would be… sharing body heat. I could take this off,” The Mandalorian gestured to his armour, “And get underneath the blankets with you? No pressure, I understand if you say no. I am a stranger, after all,” The Mandalorian added with a nervous laugh. “But it's just usually how I help the little guy warm up if he’s ever cold,” He finished, gesturing towards the child’s crib. 

Inviting a man who you had just met mere hours ago, a Mandalorian at that, a man part of a formidable order of ancient warriors, into your bed would be such a ridiculous notion if you took a second to scrutinise it. But you felt instantly at ease with him, you knew there was no ill-intent behind his words, he was not looking for anything from you. He only wanted to help you warm up after the relentless rain had frozen you to the bone. So, for the second time that day, you went against your instincts and nodded, giving your approval to his proposal.

So, the Mandalorian busied himself, taking his pieces of armour off with a meticulousness that was fascinating to observe. It was as though it was some kind of sacred ritual for him, the way he took each piece off and placed them gently in a pile at the foot of the bed. You didn’t know anything about Mandalorian culture aside from their fearsome reputation as warriors. To be honest, you were surprised that they still existed, so observing him like this was a curious sight to you.

You waited for him to remove the helmet, wondering why he still had not. But then he made his way around the cot and climbed between the blankets, his helmeted head resting on the pillow beside yours. You took a deep breath at the intimacy of the situation.

“Leaving the helmet on?” You said, perhaps more teasingly than you intended considering you hardly knew the guy. You just wanted to check that it wasn’t on your account and let him know that you felt comfortable in his presence.

“This is the Way,” The Mandalorian replied solemnly. 

You were slightly taken aback by his response, it had been instant: leaving no room for debate. You began to spiral and panic that you had offended him. You had not meant the comment with any kind of snark, to offer any judgment about his culture. 

“I didn’t mean anything by it I… just… I’ve never met a Mandalorian before,” You explained, turning to face him. “I didn’t even know that they still existed.”

“It’s okay, many Mandalorians do remove their helmets,” The Mandalorian said reassuringly, his tone of voice causing you to exhale in relief. He wasn’t mad at you. “I belong to a particular group of Mandalorians who follow The Way of The Mandalore. I swore the Creed when I was a boy, a Creed which states that it is forbidden for me to show my face.”

“Oh,” You replied, stunned by his revelation and honesty. You had not been trying to pry or glean any more information from him that he was willing to offer. But this man was being so open and honest with you, it made your stomach flip. “I wasn’t aware there were different types of Mandalorians.”

“Yes, it has been the cause of many conflicts between our people across the centuries,” The Mandalorian explained, “But I hope those days are a thing of the past. We have retaken our homeworld, Mandalore, and things have been relatively stable since then.”

“Do you live on Mandalore?” You asked, curiously.

“No.” The Mandalorian shook his head and rolled over slightly, so you were now face to face with his helmet. “I live on a planet called Nevarro with my son."

"Oh. Your son is adorable by the way," You praised, it was true.

"Thank you," The Mandalorian said, pride evident in his voice. "His name is Grogu. I am very lucky to have him in my life. But enough about me, what’s your story?” The Mandalorian asked, rapidly changing the subject. You sensed there was more to the story of him and Grogu, you hoped that you would one day get to know it.

“Oh… there’s no story really to tell. I was born on this planet, lived here my entire life. Never left.” You shrugged, “I’ll probably die here. It’s always been my dream to travel throughout the stars, though.”

“You’ve never left the planet?” The Mandalorian asked, stunned by your admission.

“Never,” You confirmed. “Hopefully one day, though,” You sighed deeply, hoping against hope that the wish you had made on a shooting star only the previous evening would come true. Perhaps this Mandalorian could help you with that. You lay your head back on the pillow, lying on your back again, suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable in front of him. The Mandalorian did the same.

You and the Mandalorian lay there silently for a few moments, both of you staring at the ceiling, until you let out a loud yawn that you had been unable to suppress, the exhaustion of the day had seemingly finally caught up to you.

“You sound exhausted, it might be time to get some rest,” The Mandalorian offered. 

“Yes,” You agreed, turning your head slightly to face him once again. The Mandalorian did the same and you were once again face to face with his T-visor.

“Would you… uh…” The Mandalorian stammered, the uncertainty that seemed so uncharacteristic considering the confident way he held himself had returned. “Would you like me to, you know… get close? To help warm you up?”

You smiled widely at his nervousness, such a question could have felt so suggestive coming from someone else. But with this Mandalorian, you knew it he really was just asking it out of his desire to help you.

“Sure,” You smiled at him, hoping that the particular spot of his black T-visor that you were staring at was level with his eyes. 

You turned on your side, to face away from him, believing that this was probably the least terrifying position for someone who appeared to be as nervous at the prospect of sharing a bed with you as the Mandalorian was. You tried to slow your thundering heart, beating with the anticipation of feeling his touch with some deep breaths as you waited for him to move closer to you.

For such an impossibly large, broad man; the Mandalorian’s touch was incredibly gentle. It was tentative, unsure, as he wrapped his arm around your waist. You felt instantly warmed by his touch through the thin cotton shirt of his that you were wearing. You felt his chest on your back and sighed contentedly. Being held like this by a man you had just met should have been a nerve wracking experience, but with the Mandalorian, it was nothing of the sort. 

You were just adjusting to his touch, his warmth and scent; when the cold, hardness of his helmet against your head and neck startled you.

“Ahh! It’s cold!” You exclaimed.

“Oh, sorry,” The Mandalorian said apologetically, his head instantly stepping back from the position it had been resting in, against the back of your neck. “I didn’t know… it’s uh… been, a while.”

The nervousness in his gravelly voice was back. It sounded as though the two of you had much in common. It had been a while since you had found yourself in a position like this.

“It’s okay,” You smiled, wishing you could add his name to reassure him but his identity was still a mystery.

“I can… turn the lights off and remove it until morning,” The Mandalorian quickly offered.

“You don’t have to do that…” You said, stunned that he would even offer such a thing.

“I know, but it’s alright,” The Mandalorian insisted. “I always wake up at first light. You won't be able to see anything, even if you tried.” 

“Okay,” You breathed, strangely giddy at the thought of him trusting you like this and knowing that his bare face would be so close to yours.

You stayed facing away as the Mandalorian went to turn off the lights. The last embers of the fire had disappeared and once he hit the control panel, the cabin was plunged into complete darkness. You heard a hissing sound, presumably from his helmet depressurising. He placed it on the table by his side of the cot with a clank, and then you felt the cot dip as he climbed back between the blankets.

“There,” The Mandalorian whispered, exhaling deeply as he made his way back towards you, to gather you in his arms once more.

The sound of his unmodulated voice right in your ear, with no vocoder to distort the rich tones of his deep voice, sent chills across your body which was the opposite of what he had intended. But when he took you in his arms, the raised bumps on your flesh soon disappeared as he drew you in close. 

Now that he was here, holding you so closely, you could take in his scent. There was a definitive muskiness to his scent, it was earthy, faintly metallic; hints of leather combined to reach your nostrils every time you inhaled. It was thrilling to simply lie there next to him, taking in the sensations of this formidable warrior who was providing much needed warmth after your drenching at the hands of the rainstorm.

“Goodnight, Mando,” You sighed, settling on a nickname for Mandalorians you thought you vaguely remembered from somewhere. Regardless, it just felt right. “And thank you, for everything.”

“You’re welcome,” The Mandalorian replied, voice so quiet you could barely hear him.

You were about to shut your eyes in an attempt to sleep, but the deep vibrations of the Mandalorian’s voice caused your eyes to fly open.

“My name is Din, by the way.” The Mandalorian, or Din as you now knew, whispered into your hair. You shivered at the sensation of his warm breath washing over the back of your neck.

“Oh,” You smiled, thrilled that he had entrusted you with such a piece of information. ”Goodnight, Din,”

“Goodnight,” Din rasped into your hair, tightening his grip around your waist.

You shut your eyes, a shy smile across your face. Your drenching at the hands of the rainstorm and the coldness that ensued a distant memory now you were warm and safe in Din’s arms. Perhaps leaving your coat behind in your cabin had been the best decision you’d ever made.

It meant you got to cuddle with a Mandalorian for warmth. 

#dincember 2023 #din djarin #din djarin fluff #din djarin fic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal characters #my fics #my back aches and i need to drink water just lost like five hours to this bad boy woooo

[starcrossedxwriter]

Oscars Night Part 1 (MBJ/Famous Black OC)

A/N: Warning - NSFW… My favorite Black power couple are back at it againnnn… took some creative liberties with this one lol but hope you enjoy and let me know if you want to be tagged! There is a part 2 with Charlotte's win but I wanted to start with MBJ.

***

"Welcome back to the 96th Academy Awards. And now to present the Academy Award for Best Director, please welcome two-time Oscar winner Charlotte Elsbeth Jordan." 

Charlotte forced her face to remain relaxed with a bright smile despite the nerves coursing through her as she glided up to the mic. She was far more nervous than she should have been for a category she was not even nominated in. And it was not because of the bright lights, sea of her peers, or the millions of people watching that she could not see. No, it was because who won this category would be a defining moment in her life.

She took a deep breath and pushed her long hair behind her ear before smiling and reading her lines. “As actors, we know that our work would mean little without strong visionaries at the helm. Our directors set the tone for our work and are tasked with bringing complex stories and characters to life and creating new worlds for us to escape to. Whether we are watching a coming-of-age story or a man fighting his past both in and outside of the ring, these five directors brought to life stories of joy, grief, heartbreak, and compassion. Their innovative visions for their films created both windows into the lives of people we may never know, and mirrors into our own lives so we may better know ourselves. Here are the nominees for Best Director.” 

Charlotte waited as the lights dimmed and the video started playing a scene from each nominee’s film. She wasn’t listening really until she heard it, the performance she really cared about it, the one she prayed with her all might would win one of the biggest awards of the night. "Michael B. Jordan, Creed III.” She listen to the short snippet of Michael and Jonathan’s fight on the beach from the film, which remained - even a year later - one of her favorite scenes. She wished she could see his face in the darkness, from his seat on the front row, she knew he absolutely hated watching himself back. Her mind allowed her to be transported back to the moment right before this. 

"You ready?" She whispered to him during the commercial break, only having a few moments before the showrunners would whisk her backstage to fulfill her role as a presenter. She had not really wanted a role at all, except the one of a doting and supportive wife, but the world had other plans. When the original presenter for the award fell through, the Academy called Jordan and asked her to step in. It was not ideal as her husband was nominated, leading to a true test of their cardinal rule: their relationship would never interfere with work. 

Charlotte immediately informed her husband, letting him know that her intention to politely decline. She did not want to announce the award because, while she felt he deserved to win (and voted as such), statistically, he had a 20% chance. She had been in his shoes before, knew the odds were never truly in anyone’s favor when it came to award shows, and would rather sit beside him and support him whichever way the wind blew. 

Michael, on the other hand, couldn’t have disagreed more. He insisted she accept, citing that cardinal rule they had always abided by since they started dating nine years prior. This was work and presenting at the Oscars was a promotional opportunity. And he knew Marvel would not appreciate her turning down an opportunity to promote her recent project, the Marvels. She could not say no simply because of his feelings. He also believed that he would rather hear the news, either way, from his wife. Charlotte did not necessarily agree with his logic but who was she to argue with him? It was his night after all and this was what he wanted.

Michael kissed the back of her hand. "Babe, stop stressing. I am not as worried as you and I am the one nominated," he chuckled. Charlotte narrowed her eyes at the way his hand gripped and released the meat of her thigh, exposed by the high split in her dress, a tell that he was similarly riddled with anxiety.

"Yea and I am sure you aren’t nervous at all," she retorted, pointing at his active hand and jiggling leg.

He sighed, "I just don’t want to get too caught up in it, you know? You said so yourself… shit doesn’t really change. Being one of the only sports movies nominated is an honor in and of itself. So many directors and actors don’t win this shit anyway so if I don’t, I’ll move on.”

Charlotte could not disagree with him there, she understood all of this too well. In 2018, she became the first black woman to win two Oscars in one night for Best Song and Best Actress, cementing her place as the youngest EGOT winner in history. And while it was a moment she had dreamed about her entire life, aside from the phone ringing a bit more, nothing truly changed. The work was still the work and people did not treat her any differently. 

"Well just know that whatever name I read up there, you are the best director to me," she offered as security came to transition her backstage. She placed a kiss to his cheek and lips before heading to get mic’ed up.

Charlotte’s hand trembled slightly as the lights came back up and the camera’s transitioned back to her. This was it, the moment of truth. "And the Oscar goes to…"

It took a moment to open the envelope and pull the card out. She read the name twice just to ensure she wasn’t hallucinating, unable to stop the gigantic smile that spread across her face or the tears that started to fall earnestly. “Get on up here, husband.” She laughed, the entire crowd immediately erupting in cheers. “Michael B. Jordan, Creed III.” 

Loud cheers filled her ears and the crowd rose to a standing ovation as Michael made his way up to the stage. It took a minute as he gave a quick round of hugs to a couple of their friends who sat along the way to the stage. 

Charlotte could barely see through the tears that clouded her vision by the time he was in front of her. Michael did not care about the golden statue in her hand as he swept her up into a hug and deep kiss, the audience also forgotten until a wolf whistle and whooping filled their ears. To him, this moment was well worth the anxiety he felt for the last week at the idea of her saying someone else’s name. This was more than he could have hoped for. 

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered as she broke away from their hug and kissed him softly again. He squeezed her hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss her ring finger, their signature move. She quickly moved off to the side to stand out of the shot so he could give his speech. 

He stood there stunned for a moment, staring down at the statue and over to his wife. He truly had not thought he would win. So few directors receive the honor in their lifetime, let alone for their first movie. And a sports movie at that? He was shocked to be nominated. He truly had simply enjoyed the journey of being a nominee and was resigned to being nothing more. He had not even written a speech just in case. However, tonight was simply further proof that the only person ever putting limitations on his dreams was him. Tonight, he held the highest honor one could receive in his profession in his hand and it filled him with a pride he had never known. 

"Wow… Els… this is something else. Um… first I want to thank God, without him I wouldn’t be able to be here and do what I love day and day out. I want to thank my parents, who made it possible for a young man from  New Jersey to be in and make movies and make it to this stage tonight. You both always encouraged me to follow my dreams and my passions, I’ll never be able to repay you for that." There was a light applause and cheering at the heartfelt tribute to his parents.

"I want to thank everyone involved in this project - from the entire crew to my amazing cast, particularly Charlotte Elsbeth Jordan, Jonathan Majors, and Mila Davis Kent - I wouldn't be up here without you all. Thank you for putting your heart, soul and dedication into this project and showcasing the importance of vulnerability, love, and family in this film. Thank you to every director who has inspired me and helped me in this journey… Ryan, Stephen, Denzel… you all gave me so much insight and support throughout this process and I couldn’t be more appreciative.  

"Lastly… I want to thank my wife, the love of my life, mother of my children. Els… whew," he paused as a wave of emotion hit him. He turned away from the audience to look at Charlotte, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Everyday with you is a gift and a blessing. From the day I met you at a chemistry test for Creed to today, you’ve pushed me to be the best version of myself, to take risks, and to chase dreams that felt impossible. You love so fiercely and with your whole soul and that has sustained me through it all. My greatest role in this life is being your husband and partner on screen and off.” He paused and gestured to the award and said, “When I think about what Adonis Creed and this franchise have brought to my life, the first thing I think is that it brought me to you. And for that, I’m forever grateful. I love you to the moon and back a hundred times over again, honey bee.” His voice broke slightly as he voiced his immense admiration for his wife, who could not try to hid the tears streaming down her face even if she wanted to.  

"Thank y’all!" Michael raised the small statue up before walking toward Charlotte.

 ***

“Damn I’m exhausted,” Michael muttered as he unzipped Charlotte’s jumpsuit in their hotel room. He was happy they decided to just stay in their hotel for the night, his parents having offered to babysit. The drive back to their house at 4 am would have been hell after all the liquor the pair had at the two Oscars after parties. 

“I knowwwww. You were the life of the party tonight. Didn’t realize you could party that hard at your age, old man,” she teased causing him to chuckle. 

“You weren’t calling me old man last night,” he joked. 

“Hate you!” She called from the bathroom as she hung her jumpsuit up in its garment bag. “Law already sent me a couple photos from the Vanity Fair red carpet. Said people are calling us the best dressed couple of the night. But I really want our photo booth photos from Jay and Bey’s. Those were so cute. I think we should get a couple framed for the house.” 

“Whatever you want, baby.” 

Michael shed his clothes and stretched back on the bed. His eyes drank in his wife as she walked around their suite in nothing but her lingerie. 

“Liking the view?” She teased as she grabbed her pajamas. 

“Always.” 

“Well… as an Oscar winner, I recall someone once telling me that you get anything you want.” Michael smiled and nodded as she reminded him of what he told her the night she won. She sauntered over to him and slid down to her knees. “So, what do you want, Mr. Jordan?” 

He slid his boxers down and gestured toward his manhood. He knew he did not have to say it, she already knew. And he knew she would likely enjoy the task just as much, if not more, than he did. 

Charlotte’s mouth watered at the sight. Michael spent a great deal of time worshipping her body during sex, however, she  was a giver too so she loved any excuse to fall to her knees and suck her husband’s dick. She took half of him into her mouth, her tongue rolling over his tip. She savored the taste of him as she moaned around his dick, the vibrations causing a moan to escape his lips. 

She took her time with her task, massaging, licking and teasing the sensitive spots that would elicit the greatest response from the love of her life. People said sex would grow stall years into a marriage. However, Charlotte and Michael found that theirs only continued to improve as they knew exactly what the other needed. 

She took a deep breath before taking him as far as she could into her throat. She relished in the feeling of his tip hitting the back of her throat and the praise that came with it as she took him as deep as she could. She felt her own desire pool between her legs as she listened to his moans and outpourings of adoration and praise. 

“F-fuck… that’s it baby. Feels so… fucking good,” he breathed, his fingers tangled themselves in her long hair as he fucked her mouth. She loved this part, relinquishing control to him so he could fuck her as he desired. 

And though his wife’s ministrations felt like pure bliss, all he wanted was to be buried deep inside her. He sat up and let his dick fall from her mouth, her lips immediately curling into a cute pout. He knew she was hoping he would cum down her throat but he didn’t want that tonight. 

“I wasn’t doneeeee,” she whined playfully. 

He merely laughed and helped her to her feet. 

“Get on the bed, baby. You said whatever I want, remember?” 

She could not and would not argue with that. “How do you want me then, love?” She knew the answer before it left his mouth. 

“You know what I want, baby. Deep arch like I like it.” 

Charlotte could’ve orgasmed right then and there at the command in his voice. She immediately moved and got on all fours on their bed, assuming his favorite position: face and chest down, ass up. She moaned as she felt a featherlike touch against her clit. 

“P-please,” she whimpered, her need for him to stick something in her growing to painful levels. 

“What do you want, baby? Want me to fuck you?” 

She nodded fervently, her need clear in every syllable. “Y-Yes… please. I need you.” 

As she felt him line himself up with her entrance, she almost willed him to ram it into her. She gasped and buried her head deep into the bed as he pushed into her. Her fingers clutched the white comforter tightly as she felt him fill her, a feeling that never got old, a high that she would chase day after day after day. 

“You like that baby?” He asked as his hips started a relentless pace as he fucked her. 

She could barely formulate words to answer him as she got lost in the pleasure he gave her. The only sounds filling their suite were the sounds of his hips smacking into her ass and her constant and loud moans. 

She yelped as he smacked her across the ass, the sharp bite of pain pushing her closer and closer to her orgasm. 

“I said, do you like that?” 

“Y-Yes… fuck… I-I love you so much. D-don’t stop.” 

An unnecessary direction because Michael had no intention of stopping. They could catch up on sleep tomorrow. Tonight? He planned on fucking his wife senseless until the Sun was back shining bright in the sky. After all, an Oscar winner gets whatever they want. 

Taglist: @certifiedlesbianbaddie

#michael b jordan x reader #michael b jordan smut #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan #creed 3 #creed iii #black panther #black writers #Michael b Jordan x oc #Michael b Jordan fanfic #adonis creed

[ddarker-dreams]

Patiently waiting for your thoughts on Fontaine’s new archon quest 🫡

oh man. i do have some thoughts to share.

(warning for spoilers to those who haven't played through the latest archon quest)!

OKAY, so — overall? i enjoyed it. the fortress of meropide section felt a little tedious at times, i'm begging mihoyo to abandon those awful 'stealth' 'gameplay' sections. aside from that though, i was always interested enough to keep moving ahead. i especially like how they wrote navia. the story of her and her father got me emotionally invested in her as a character, i actually teared up at one point.

i was glad they avoided their infamous 'introduce a character and have them betray you' shtick. idk if that was a quota they had to reach before and that's why they did it so often, but in any case, it made for a refreshing change. the reveal of fontaine's history, the serial disappearances, focalors and furina; there were lots of intriguing story beats. furina's story might somehow be one of the saddest in genshin yet?? the execution of the reveal and the final conversation between focalors and neuvillette packed a strong emotional punch.

onto my gripes...

childe. why. why'd they do my man like that. the buildup was so interesting! the cutscene where he helps neuvillette subdue the space whale had me frothing at the mouth. him in his foul legacy armor ... his leitmotif playing... him growling and grunting.... oh, how happy i was, naïve thing that i am. i was a bit confused how they dedicated a total of three seconds to traveler and the floating fiend going 'oh wow there's childe ig.' like ??? at this point in the story, i thought they were sorta buddies??

the space whale's execution confused me. i expected it to be deeply tied to fontaine's past, or at the very least give some abyss bread crumbs, but it just kinda flopped around and stuff. the fight was cool, don't get me wrong. but the whole 'yeah this whale is some dude's pet lol' bit just felt odd. i get that they want to prove the Big Important Name Fella is suuuper important and suuuper strong but c'mon. at least make the space whale a creation that ran rampant or something.

i could've forgiven the space whale shenanigans if we got a nice conversation with childe at the end. how did he feel in the abyss? was he fighting the whale to keep the people of fontaine safe, out of bloodlust, or something in between? what was it like seeing skirk again? how much time felt like it passed when he was in whale abyss prison? does his vision resonate with him properly again?

instead, we just get a few throwaway lines that he's back in snezhnaya healing up. did they run out of budget to book his VA?? i get they have to be selective with lore drops, but there are so many ways around that.

my last major gripe is how they went about furina's character quest. maybe i'm just an oversensitive weenie (i definitely am), but the traveler and flying creature's interactions with furina... i was physically grimacing. how did they seriously think it was a good idea to ask the person who has been tormented by acting for 500 years to give the stage another shot? imo, it would've been fine if they tried that, furina rejected them, and everything played out about the same. but those bits where traveler + the imp kept pressuring furina felt so weeeeeeird. i genuinely didn't want to click the dialogue options. if this was framed differently, that would've also been fine, but it's kinda a 'haha :3 epic paimon says teehee te nandayo reddit gold' light.

tl;dr i liked the overall experience but someone needs to delete paimon from the game + treat their characters as more than a punchline.

#lock plays genshin #answered #Anonymous

[harrywavycurly]

Sarah I swear every single time I leave your blog for a few days I come back to madness and now it’s Eddie with triplet girls?? Since you’ve caused emotional distress I think it’s only right you give us some conversations with Eddie when the reader is pregnant with the girls😭😭😭

Hiiii babes! Haha I am so sorry you had to come back to Triplet Dad Eddie😂 I will gladly do this for you since I caused you some distress lol enjoy babes!!💖

*Eddie is freaking out and has one thing on his mind…he needs three of everything.*

“I’m sorry you said what now?” “We are having triplets…” “triplets…that sounds like it’s more than one…” “yes Eddie it’s three.” “Three…three little tiny things are just…hanging out in your stomach right now?” “Don’t call them things Edward that’s fucking rude.” “Sorry sorry baby I’m just…” “in shock? I know. Welcome to the club.” “Jesus…three…babies.” “Munson party of two is now Munson party of five.” “Holy fucking shit.”

“Just because they are girls Eddie doesn’t mean everything has to be pink.” “Tell that to Wayne baby it’s not me buying everything in pink and white.” “He’s excited to be a grandpa isn’t he?” “Oh he’s told everyone in Hawkins and has their ultrasound photos in his wallet.” “He’s gonna spoil them rotten.” “Without a doubt.” “Did he buy these pink dresses with white flowers all over them?” “Yup dropped them off this afternoon.” “They are size 2T…” “he said something about they can grow into them.” “You think he’d listen if I tell him they don’t need anymore clothes so he doesn’t need to buy anything else?” “You’d have a better chance at getting Harrington a date than Wayne agreeing to not buy anymore shit for the girls.”

“We need three of those right?” “I don’t think so. It’s just a play mat. They can all be on it at one time.” “We need three cribs and diaper changing things though?” “Three cribs yes but I think sharing one diaper changing thing would be fine?” “What if all of them need changed at the same time?” “Then they can be changed on the floor? They won’t care.” “We can’t show favorites right out of the womb baby. The one who gets changed on the diaper thing will feel superior to her sisters.” “Eddie…they won’t remember. Trust me.” “Let’s just get three.” “They already have you wrapped around their little fingers and they aren’t even here yet.” “I’m choosing to ignore that. Now what about high chairs? Three of those too?” “We don’t need those right now we have time to get those.” “Three bouncers for sure I hear those things are great.” “Yeah we will want three of those.” “How the hell are we gonna have three car seats in one car? The van doesn’t even have backseats…” “uh the van was never an option they will fit in my car don’t worry.” “All of them? Just like in a row?” “Yes in a row.” “Do they make a stroller big enough for triplets? Or do we have to like get one custom made?” “Eddie…honey I need you to take a few deep breaths okay? It’s going to be okay we don’t need all these things right now we have time okay?” “Okay…yeah…okay you’re right we are fine right now…I’m fine.” “I love you.” “I love you too sweetheart.”

“Oh wow is that a foot?” “I think so? Could be a hand.” “They just kick you like that all day?” “Not all day mainly after I eat they get all excited.” “Oh that felt like a foot.” “Probably…here put your hand right here…feel that?” “What the hell is that?” “I think it’s one their heads but…then again I’m not sure.” “How are you not sure?” “I can’t see what’s going on in there Eddie I don’t have X-ray vision you dingus.” “Oh right…it’s just crazy how much is going on in there.” “Right? Like there’s three little girls just wiggling around in there…” “so…we are like good right? After this?” “Are you asking if I want more kids?” “Yeah because I’m gonna be honest with you baby I’m terrified it’ll be triplets again and I…don’t know if I can handle that…” “you’re so dramatic the odds of us having triplets again is super rare.” “So were the odds of us having triplets this time…” “true…but yeah I think three is good we can revisit in a few years and see how we feel.” “Okay…I’m fine with that.” “Ohh did you feel that? That had to be a hand.” “She didn’t like us talking about having other babies I guess.” “Yup she’s a Munson…using her hands to get her point across.” “Just like her mother.” “Don’t be rude Eddie.”

#girl dad eddie #dad eddie munson #eddie munson x pregnant!reader #husband eddie munson #dad!eddie x mom!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson request #Eddie Munson #my little dungeon master baby #eddie x his triplets

[xanvasofxords]

Thoughts On SaiTeru & Why It Makes Sense To Me

Honestly speaking, I wasn’t too big on this ship but over the time, it has definitely grown a lot on me and I’d actually like if they took that route. Mainly because Saiki ending up with someone other than Kokomi wouldn’t make sense, after all the progression they went through, ending up with each other is natural. Besides, whatever Kokomi wills eventually happens so if I had to guess I’d go with the prior lol. That aside, imo they fit each other the best.

I haven’t done ship analysis posts before so the sequence is pretty messy but I’ll try to keep it as organised as possible so it’s easier to read. Let’s start anyways :

Starting off with the very thing that places Kokomi at the top of the food-chain : her charms. Due to Saiki’s x-ray vision, that ability is rendered completely useless against him. As a result, Saiki recognises her for her true self and knows her inside out. While he’s aware of her flaws, he also witnesses her growth as a person. She makes true friends and starts to enjoy their company and care about them. For Saiki, she stops dreaming about marrying a rich guy and rejects Saiko.

Kokomi even gives up on playing the perfect pretty girl which she has been doing for years, just for his sake.

Likewise, Saiki’s psychic powers have little to no effect on Kokomi because she’s loved by the God himself and she gets whatever she wants. Regardless of how hard Saiki tries to win against her, he always ends up losing instead, all the while her likability with him increases.

Her efforts in her role, her wits and abilities surprise him enough to make him wonder if she’s actually perfect. He even goes as far as to say that they’re invincible together. Saiki goes from being half-scared of her powers to fully acknowledging and admiring her by the end.

Before Kokomi, Saiki has dealt with people who had crush on him- Imu and Chiyo. He made them give up on him with ease which resulted into him believing that it’s easy to move people’s hearts. Kokomi however, breaks that misconception by moving his own and shows him that she loves him just as he is and that won’t change.

And it’s because he’s aware that her feelings are genuine, unlike the other two, he stops resisting her completely and starts avoiding possible misunderstandings. When Kokomi changes herself to suit his tastes, Saiki doesn’t actively try to make her give up on him instead tries to revert her back to her usual self. He isn’t bothered by her feelings for him anymore, rather prefers her the way she is.

There are only a few times in the show when Saiki gets nervous. Even Nendou and Kusuke who he can’t use his telepathy on, don’t have that effect on him. Yet being alone with Kokomi makes him nervous. Prior to the mixer event, Saiki has been alone with her on more than one occasion. After that day however, Saiki’s perception of Kokomi changes. He’s aware that she truely loves him and won’t give up on him no matter how indifferent he acts towards her. It’s fairly new to him, accepting the fact that someone loves him despite all the odds and she actually manages to make him happy because of it.

Just like how Kokomi gives up on the most important thing for Saiki, being perfect that is, he does the same for her. Saiki hates drawing attention to himself and he puts a lot of efforts in that. However, he gives up on that without a moment’s thought and catches Kokomi in his arms in front of the entire school and takes her to the infirmary. There couldn’t be any better way to draw attention.

My point remains the same even if I don’t include this because Kokomi’s beauty has always been irrelevant in their relationship and this is the first and only time we see Saiki being attracted to someone. Ironically, Saiki reacts to seeing Kokomi just as any other guy would and he’s too transparent about it. Not to Kokomi but to the readers.

From time to time, Kokomi’s likability with Saiki increases to such point where he subconsciously sees her differently than others. I’m sure there are people who would disagree because Saiki makes exceptions for all his friends and Kokomi shouldn’t be different. There are multiple counter to that arguement.

One of the two is when Saiki turns invisible and shares a drink with Kokomi. Honestly, whatever happened in that chapter doesn’t make sense in the least.

Saiki has gone out of his way to get Kokomi’s valentines chocolates. I can say that’s because he loves sweets. He buys her a birthday gift : the cat mug, I can reason that he even got Chiyo a soft toy back when she was dating Takeru to make their relationship last. Several times he has gone out of his way to check up on his friends such as when Aren received a fake love letter or when Kaido and Chiyo had a misunderstanding and stayed with them the entire time to make sure everything was alright.

However, this time the only thing he has to do is avoid her and go home. Kokomi isn’t in any trouble nor does she need his help for anything. So he succeeds the moment he manages to lose her by getting up in the air. All he needs to do his teleport home.

But he doesn’t. We don’t know why.

He just turns invisible which saves him from the men searching for him, again he can teleport home or even walk home. But he just decides to sit there with her and share her drink for some reason and leaves only when she thinks of doing the same. Which is outright ridiculous because he could just leave the moment Kokomi lost him but he does the opposite and does exactly what Kokomi wanted on his own free will except, differently.

Last but not the least, the most significant moment is when Saiki hears Kokomi’s voice in the end. Having read the manga, it’s clear that Kokomi’s part is supposed to stand out from others but the added scene in the anime makes it more obvious.

I think there’s more to this moment than most talk about. Other than the fact that Saiki reacts to Kokomi’s name, what makes him smile is that even when Kokomi knows that her life is in danger, she still thinks about him. He realises that the girl he finds so troublesome truely does love him. And he knows that in the end, what she wants, will happen. Through him this time. Personally I think this scene acts as the trigger to Saiki realising that he needs his powers and he doesn’t actually hate being a psychic.

All in all, Kokomi is the only one who balances out Saiki perfectly and Saiki is the one who made her develop as a person. They’re compatible with each other and even Saiki believes that. Both have lasting impact on each other even without being able to use their respective powers which solidifies the fact that the progression is genuine. Both have polar opposite nature, Kokomi loves receiving attention while Saiki hates that. However when push comes to shove, Kokomi’s willing to sacrifice her perfect pretty girl role while Saiki’s ready to draw attention to himself despite all the efforts they both put into their respective places.

Kokomi influences Saiki’s thought process despite him being able to read her like an open book. She makes him guess his choices and decisions. She brings surprises and challenges in his life. Saiki does the same since he isn’t affected by her charms, he makes her focus on other things beside looks. And he’s literally the only one who recognises her for herself and not her beauty unlike her own brother. I could go on forever about how they complement each other but that’s for another day.

I may not be the biggest SaiTeru shipper out there but I most definitely think Saiki should either remain single or end up with Kokomi. I prefer the later.

#the disastrous life of saiki k. #saiki x teruhashi #teruhashi x saiki #terusai #saiteru #saiki kusuo #teruhashi kokomi

[thedenofravenpuff]

Flimsy Vision Last Night

Last night I had a pretty scary experience and still unsure what happened or why.

Just any other day, just doing my thing as I draw the day's daily doodle. Just as I finish scanning and upload I notice a little dot in my vision, much like them light spots so I don't think much of it though I don't recall having looked into any lights to cause it. Oh well.

It doesn't go away and I start noticing it has changed shape. Amusing myself over it starting to look like amongus in shape, lol.

It's growing, starting to become a bit of an annoyance for me vision. I question where it's from, again I'm pretty sure I didn't look into my lamp to cause it.

Yeah it's definitely growing. And the outline around it is getting an odd zigzaggy lightning effect that really disturbs my vision.

It starts blocking my vision more and more. I can't see. Not completely blinded, I won't walk into any walls, but I can't see details or what my hands are doing. Trying to look anything up online I can't read. I'm fighting the urge to panic, trying to keep calm and just wait it out.

Finally it goes away, seemingly just grown so large the worst disturbance, the flickering outline, is now only in the corners of my eyes. Bit by bit my vision go back to normal and I can resume my night.

I have no frigging clue what that was about, I just hope it doesn't happen again.

#PuffBlog #Status #Story time #Temporarily blinded