#I just wanna walk around and pretend to be someone else with different problems for one day

[kittievampire]

hi hi ! so can i request OM brothers reacting MC self harming/attempting suicide (whichever one you think fits the brothers most) ? if that’s okay with you of course ? thanks lovie <3 !!

I'll only be doing cutting and other such unhealthy habits that fit the brothers here, if that's okay!

Lemme see what I have in my bag, my dear~

Click here if you wanna request!

Warnings: Angst, Self-Harm, Depression, Insomnia, Anxiety, Social Anxiety, Stress Eating, Anger Management Issues, Physical Insecurities, Workaholic Tendancies, Hurt/Comfort, GN! MC

Enjoy.

You'd struggled with depression long before you were sent to the Devildom. While the brothers had managed to keep you busy, to the point where your mind didn't have the time nor the energy to think about the things that made you feel so down, there were still plenty of times when you found yourself breaking down or even resorting back to the bad habits you'd thought you'd "grown out of." Life isn't easy, you know this. But you hated to make it someone else's problem. Whenever you'd tell someone about your issues, you always felt like a burden, so you kept it to yourself. When the brothers entered your life, you didn't want them finding out about it at all. That's when you tried to better yourself, get rid of those habits that kept you down in that place. But, unfortunately, life isn't easy, old habits are hard to kill, and secrets won't always be kept hidden.

Lucifer

You struggled with accepting the reality of life's cruelty.

You wanted to keep your mind busy so that you could have some form of escape, even if that meant pulling all-nighters just so you didn't have to fear the things that'd appear in your head once the area around you gets quiet and your mind is free to wander. This meant that you'd be doing a majority of your RAD schoolwork at night, weeks before the due date just so you could distract yourself.

You could still see the scars that littered over your arms, mainly those from your more recent assaults upon yourself, though you were always careful to hide them.

When you were in your room one night, however, you were wearing a tank top and shorts, ready to call it a night until your anxiety spiked and you were suddenly sitting at your desk, scribbling notes of random, possibly useless, information that you recalled from your lessons.

You managed to fall asleep like this.

Lucifer had only walked into your room to check on you, as he could see the faintest light seeping from beneath your door. He was just about ready to scold you for staying up so late, but when he entered the room and walked toward you, he noticed two things.

One being that you were very much asleep, your cheek pressed against an open textbook, and small scribble lines not going unnoticed as signs of your drowsiness before you passed out.

Two being that your arms were almost covered in scars.

His eyes widened, reaching a gloved hand out gently to twist your arm toward him, getting a better look.

There were scabs and old wounds that littered your arms, all the way up to your upper forearm.

His true surprise though, was when he saw one that was different from the others. It was still red, not bleeding, but it was more recent than the ones that had healed over.

Were you unhappy here? Why did you feel the need to do such a thing?

Lucifer couldn't begin to comprehend the complexity of human emotion, it wasn't his best suit in general. But this? He had no idea what he should do. Wake you up? Pretend like he didn't see anything?

He carefully carried you to your bed and tucked you in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, and softly wishing you sweet dreams.

After that, Lucifer would definitely check up on you more often. "How was your day, MC?", "Not too overworked, I hope?", "Perhaps your efforts should be rewarded. How about dinner? On me."

He never spoke to you directly about it. Even if he did, there wasn't much he knew to do. Despite this, he wants to be your rock, your shoulder to cry on. Every opportunity he gets, he holds his hand out to you, allowing you to rant about the shitty day you've had or how much you hate something/someone.

And every time, when he'd comfort you with a warm and tight embrace and soft strokes to your hair, he'd press a kiss to the top of your head, and whisper to you,

"I'm always here for you, whenever you need me."

Mammon

You struggled with talking about your emotions to other people.

Whenever you did, you just felt like a burden, so you often would bottle up everything you felt and let it all out at once when you're in the privacy of your own room, crying, and cutting.

Mammon walked in on you in the act, actually. His shades fell to the ground at the same time your small blade did.

"O-Oi! Whaddya think yer doin', huh?!" He asked, closing the door and rushing to your side. "Bandages," He muttered, dashing out of the room for a mere moment before running back in, unraveling the roll of bandages, and dropping the rest of the First-Aid kit. "Shit!" He fumbled with some of the supplies but quickly got to work on wrapping up your arms.

It was sloppy work, but at least he managed to tie it and stop the blood from seeping out of the cuts you'd made. The whole time, you just sat there, frozen in place, tears seemingly not stopping anytime soon.

When he was done bandaging you, he sat down at your side, and there was silence for the first time between the two of you. You didn't want to start bawling your eyes out, but you couldn't stop the small whimpers that escaped your throat, nor could you stop the tears that stained your face.

You rested your head on his shoulder and started sobbing, gripping his jacket, seeking his comfort.

Mammon flinched at the sudden contact but quickly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close.

Twenty minutes passed before he spoke amidst the silence after you'd finished crying.

"M'not gonna ask why... Just... Please don't do it again... I'll try to make ya happy, okay? Just promise me ya won't do it again."

Leviathan

You struggled with socializing.

Ever since you were a child, you never really fit in with society, so you just decided to hole yourself up in your room.

However, when you did try to make friends, you'd always get turned down rather harshly.

You were considered a weirdo.

So, you started cutting. It became a habit that stuck with you into your adulthood, and it was difficult to get rid of.

Even at the House of Lamentation, you found it too tempting. Especially when Asmodeus or Mammon would give you weird looks when you'd try to include yourself in conversation with the two of them.

The only person who could understand this was Leviathan, which is why he didn't ask any questions when he saw your scars. He didn't ask why you did it, didn't tell you off for doing it, he understood more than you thought. The thing is, his scars healed way faster because of his immortality.

"Don't hurt yourself, MC. Those dumb normies don't deserve people like you," He'd say, a determined smile on his face. "Why don't we do a marathon of your favorite anime? What was it? Devil Killer? (Cookie for whoever gets this reference) We can watch that and play video games all night if it means taking your mind off of things. So, um... L-Let's try to be each other's company, if that's okay with you..."

Satan

You were very emotional.

You'd be chided and teased for your short temper, your "crybaby" nature, but you just didn't know how to handle your own emotions sometimes.

Well, all the time.

So, you started cutting. Though, you didn't want to be conspicuous. You knew better than to let people know your weakness just from rolling up your sleeves. Your area of choice was your thighs.

You became fond of the cutting as a release of your feelings. This bleeded into your adulthood, and it was the only way you could cope without being so emotional.

However, nothing can get past the Avatar of Wrath when it comes to his own sin.

He could tell you were angry, angry enough to do something drastic, so he didn't bother knocking when he came into your room.

Satan saw you sitting on your bed, towel beneath you, thighs bleeding, a blade in your hand, and tears in your eyes.

He was quick to come in with the first-aid kit, neatly bandaging your wounds.

"Satan—" "Not right now, MC," He cut you off. He was upset that you were hurting yourself, and he couldn't trust himself to talk to you without scolding you. Scolding wasn't what you needed right now.

Once he was finished, he looked down at you, a distraught expression on his face. "Why would you do this to yourself, MC?" He asked softly, resting his forehead against your shoulder. He held your hips with his hands, trying to maintain a hold on you. "Why hurt yourself? Is it because of what others think of you? What you think of yourself?"

Satan tucked a few strands of your hair behind your ear, emerald eyes peering deep into yours. "No matter. You don't have to answer my questions now, MC... I just want you to be okay."

Asmodeus

You struggled with loving yourself.

You were always pressured to live up to society's beauty standards. When you tried, you failed more often than you didn't, and you'd be chided for your failure. That's why you started cutting in the first place.

Cutting gave you this kind of inexplicable relief. Since you hated yourself so much, there was a small voice in the back of your head telling you that something so ugly deserves this kind of treatment.

When Asmo saw your arms for the first time, he was frozen in place. The Avatar of Lust was speechless for the first time in years.

It was an accident, you'd never meant to expose your cut-up arms to him for fear of being judged. He was just really pushy about you trying out a new perfume, one that had a roll-on applicator.

"Darling," He spoke softly, keeping a sweet tone as he gently grasped your hands. "Did you do this?"

You bit your lip, casting your gaze down to your lap. Almost immediately, he grasped your chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting your head upward to look at him. The saddened expression in his eyes almost made you run out of the room.

He let out a small sigh, opening a drawer that was attached to his vanity mirror.

"You really shouldn't," He murmured softly as he squirted ointment onto your arm, rubbing it into your skin. "Your skin is too pretty, you're too pretty to be harming yourself like this."

Pretty?

You hadn't been called pretty before, not from what you can remember.

"Don't do this anymore, yes? Promise me you won't harm your beautiful body like this anymore."

Beelzebub

You struggled with your body image and stress eating.

You found it difficult to live up to the standards set by society, at least, that's what you felt. You always felt very insecure about your body, and your eating habits didn't help either.

The Avatar of Gluttony found out about your stress eating when he was raiding the fridge one night. You had woken up feeling especially stressed out about an exam you had the next day, so you had gone down to the kitchen to grab a snack.

You and Beel had a conversation about your habit, and how insecure you felt about yourself.

"Your body looks fine, MC," He said mid-chew, taking another bite of whatever food was left over from tonight's dinner. "I know the feeling. I eat a whole lot more when I'm feeling overwhelmed, that's why a lot of people think that I've got a black hole for a stomach. But there's nothing wrong with you. You're not weird or anything, I think you're perfect!"

The way he said all of this to you with that sweet smile of his almost made you cry.

Belphegor

You suffered from night terrors and insomnia.

Your anxiety made it difficult to sleep, so most nights you just wouldn't. You didn't even want to at this point, a direct result of your horrific nightmares. Your lack of sleep was evident due to the dark circles under your eyes the next morning and your struggle to stay awake at RAD.

Lucifer had gotten on to you for this, and Belphegor wanted to help.

That's why he was in your room. He was planning to help put you to sleep, but you couldn't stop squirming in your bed.

Belphie had taken the floor out of respect for your privacy, but he couldn't sleep hearing you toss and turn in your bed.

"Alright, move over," He said abruptly, standing over your bed and kneeling on it. You felt a dip in the mattress and shifted, moving over to give him room on your bed. He slid under the covers and wrapped his arms around you, clinging to you like you were a body pillow.

Belphegor buried his face into the back of your neck, breathing in your scent as he closed his eyes. "Sleep, MC... I'll be here when you wake up."

Hope you liked it, anon!

Masterlist

#obey me angst #obey me #obey me mc #obey me hcs #obey me brothers #obey me angst hcs #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me lucifer angst #obey me mammon angst #obey me leviathan angst #obey me satan angst #obey me asmodeus angst #obey me beelzebub angst #obey me belphegor angst

[mina-saiyat]

Twice Interactive Story Part 604-641.5 Queen (Sana, Tzuyu, Feat. Momo)

'Just remember you are going to fuck me, not Dahyun tomorrow, ok?' Sana gets up from your lap.

'Would you mind help me to dress up, boss?' Sana put her panties on the ground in your pocket.

'And I suggest you should talk with Mina too, maybe apologize? I don't know. She is really down today.'

"Yeah, I'll talk to her." I say as I help Sana.

Sana's face turns red as you playing her body while help her dressing. 'Can't you wait for tomorrow, huh?' Sana winks at you.

There's someone knocking on the door and she comes in before you answer, it's Tzuyu again.

'Seems I always come at the wrong time, is it part of my responsibility to serve you after I join the team?' Tzuyu sits on the sofa and watch your hands running through Sana's body.

"Only if you want it to be otherwise I'll keep my hands off you." I spank Sana as a sign for her to leave. "Was there something you wanted to talk about Tzuyu?"

Sana does not leave, instead she sits on your lap again and watch the conversation of you and Tzuyu.

'Really, but so far I see both of your subordinates are having relationships with you, is this the reason why you not get me in your team?' Tzuyu smirks

'I come for the deal, I wanna know when you will get me in, the deal should be honored.'

"I know and I'm working on something. The only problem is that your boss wants someone in return and I'm not willing to hand over Mina. So I'm trying to think of something else."

'Not willing to hand over Mina, cause she can only fucked by you huh?' Tzuyu keeps her unemotional face.

'Would you mind telling me what you are working tho? I need some guarantees.'

"That’s understandable. Sana here had mentioned previously she would be willing to be traded so that might be the only option. I doubt your boss would be willing to take any other team member."

'So you are not giving up Mina, but you will let Sana go? Is it mean Mina is more important?' Tzuyu smiles playfully.

Sana turns her head around, pretending she doesn't care. 'It's ok, I would like to try different men's cock, so...'

"I treasure both of them, the difference is I know Sana can take care of herself. She's a strong and beautiful woman. Mina would be put in more danger." I respond

'Boss...' Sana is touched by your response, she grabs you for a kiss.

'Tzuyu is watching, Sana.' You break the kiss and try to stop her.

'She already knows, what are you afraid of?' Sana ignores you and kisses you again.

'Umm.' You two end the kiss only after hearing Tzuyu makes some noise to let you know she is still here.

'Don't miss me, boss. I believe that old man's cock wouldn't be good as you.' Sana smirks

'Yes, his cock is just useless...' Tzuyu finds she is talking something inappropriate 'Sorry, I am not meaning that.'

I let out a laugh, "You're free to speak your mind Tzuyu, but yes that is the plan. I'll go and speak to your boss early next week."

'If that old man is useless, I bet Y/N must can satisfy you then.' Sana looks at Tzuyu playfully.

'No, I am not meaning that. I did not let him fuck me...' Tzuyu blushes and whispers

'I guess Tzuyu can replace me to serve boss while I am not here, right?' Sana stands up and walking to Tzuyu.

'Why don't you show us how you would serve the old man at usual.' Sana grabs her jaw and force Tzuyu to look at her.

"Sana, let her go. We're not going to force her into anything."

'Did anyone forced you, Tzuyu?' Sana asks.

'No, no one forced me, even that old man, is me seduced him in the interview.' Tzuyu's face is still red.

"Haha, good job using your skills Tzuyu. Is that all you came for, though? To make sure I held up my part?"

'Yes, I guess that's all I am coming for. But do you need me to show how can I work for you?' Tzuyu smirks and assault Sana's tits suddenly.

'Ah!' Sana moans as Tzuyu catches her tits.

"That's completely up to you Tzuyu. If you choose to, do it quickly." I respond while watching Sana and Tzuyu.

'Why we should go quick, you can enjoy it slowly.' Tzuyu releases Sana and start walking to you.

'So beautiful.' You talk to yourself, Tzuyu seems to be another person when she is seducing other man, you finally understand why that old man would fall into Tzuyu's temptation so easily, she is really a Helen of Troy. You already throw Dahyun out of your mind.

The sound of her high heels knocking on your heart, you like a wood that could not react until she is sitting on your lap, she grabs your hands and puts on her exposed thigh, slowly rubbing it. 'Welcome to Thighwan.' Tzuyu whispers in your ear.

I can't help but laugh, "I'm sorry but that's just too funny." I squeeze her thighs gently, "you have great thighs but that pun was just so unnecessary."

Tzuyu ignores you and keeps guiding your hands to rub her thigh. Your cock is erecting without her touch, the mood is so horny around Tzuyu. You start to breathe heavier as she continue to tease you.

You are surprised that how good is Tzuyu in seducing men, your lust slowly taking over you, you can feel pain from your cock as it is fully erected. You kiss Tzuyu's neck fiercely, smelling her scent, your hand is still rubbing her thigh even she stop guiding you. You turn into a breast that want to swallow Tzuyu.

I glance at Sana and then move my eyes back to Tzuyu multiple times hoping she understands that she should join in. At the same time I spread Tzuyu's legs open and rub my hand against her panties. "Would you like to continue?"

'If you want to continue, remove your hand, my body is free for use, except for holes in bottom.' Tzuyu moves your hands back to her thigh, pretending nothing has happened.

Sana comes around and grabs Tzuyu's head for kiss, while you still kissing her neck, one of your hands is still rubbing Tzuyu's thigh, and your other hand is teasing Sana's clit. While Tzuyu is focusing on Sana's tits, she didn't forget you, she adjusts her ass so her ass cheek is gripped and starts rubbing you.

Tzuyu is just like a living aphrodisiac, keep triggering the lust of you and Sana.

I strip Tzuyu of her top and start playing with her breasts with one hand, the other spanks her lightly.

Sana is the first one to reach orgasm, she can't contain anymore as you and Tzuyu are playing her at the same time.

'Ah....' Sana's legs are shaking as Tzuyu even increases her pace after Sana peaks.

Seeing this horny scene, you feel you are reaching your peak soon. Tzuyu feels your cock throbbing, and she grinds you harder. You close your eye and kiss her neck hardly, while your hands are grabbing her tits harder.

I pinch and pull on her nipples as I feel myself get closer to my orgasm.

Tzuyu knows exactly what you need, she starts moaning to make you even more excited. 'Cum for me.'

When you think you are going to enjoy another orgasm of the day, Tzuyu stops and brings Sana to the sofa, hanging you out at the seat, not allowed to cum.

You could already feel your cum reach your tip and ready to splash all over Tzuyu's back, but you were denied. Tzuyu points at the clock, it's just within 2 minutes since you start dry fucking her, you have never tried to cum so fast, Tzuyu is just a woman that is made for sex and no man could resist.

I stand up and go to Sana, flipping her over and pulling out her butt plug. After that I immediately ram my cock into her ass until I fill her with cum again. I put the plug back afterwards.

Sana just lays on the sofa and let you fuck you fuck her. You cum immediately when you put in, 'Oh....' Sana's body shivers as you deliver your cum in her ass, you pull out and insert the plug again, let your seed remain in her ass.

Tzuyu walks behind you and start jerking you off again, 'Enter her ass without lubrication? How horny you are? I thought you are going to enjoy my service.'

Maybe because it's Tzuyu, your cock is back to full hardness when she touches your cock, her hand feels like heaven, and you feel like you could cum at any time.

"Sana's ass is already lubricated." I respond.

'Oh, I don't expect you prefer ass more.' Tzuyu whispers in your ear, her hand is still stroking you.

Feeling your cock starts to throb again, Tzuyu asks' Do you wanna cum now, or you want to have more fun first?'

"It’s not that I prefer ass, Sana here wanted it there." I lightly smack her thighs, "let's have a little more fun."

'So, maybe you should finish it on my ass first.' Tzuyu kneels on Sana, and aligns your cock into her ass cheek, starts rubbing you again just like before.

Meanwhile, Tzuyu bites Sana's nipples and makes her moan again. Seeing two girls playing with each other makes you go wild, and you move your hips faster for more pleasure.

I grab onto Tzuyu's hips and start thrusting between her cheeks faster until I spill my load onto her back

Tzuyu arcs her back so you can shoot on her more easily, waves of cum you are shooting on her, some of them even lands on her hair. You grab her ass and use it as the platform for your shooting.

Tzuyu turns around when she feels you are finished, she fixed her cummed hair into a tail, you see the mess caused by you, and you feel horny again. You don't understand why, but your body has responded for you, and your cock start to harden again.

Tzuyu grabs it and stroking it again without hesitate, 'Seems you are enjoying my service, don't you? Guess I am a qualified team member now.'

"Not completely, but I won't push you any further."

'Why still further? I can make you happy without letting you enter me. You can't even hold on for 3 minutes when I rub you.' Tzuyu smirks and keeps stroking you, you moan her name from the sensation, and you can feel you are ready for orgasm again.

'See? Men could always have fun without entering me. Even My dad.' Tzuyu playfully squeezes and your cock pulse.

"Part of the fun is making the other person feel good too. It's not just meant to be me feeling good."

'Every man I met want to fuck me, from my classmates, teachers, and even my dad, I guess you are not different with them.' Tzuyu starts rubbing your tips as she feels you are reaching the orgasm.

'Oh Tzuyu... I am going to cum.' Your legs shake as she continues to rub your sensitive spots. You grab her meaty thigh harder.

'But I think it's more fun for me to see Men desperately want to fuck me, but they would just beg me to let them cum at the end. I guess I want to hear it now.' Tzuyu stops stroking you and instead teases you when you are one step from the orgasm.

"That maybe fun to you but I only feel it's right that you feel the same type of pleasure I'm feeling. If that’s all then you can go." I say as I resist Tzuyu.

'It's all excuse that you want to fuck me, leave it to your secretary. You are not gonna cum if you keep doing that. Say the word.' Tzuyu's hands move so quickly but keep giving you enough pleasure to maintain at the edge of orgasm, you cock can't catch her, and you seems just thrusting in the air. Sana can't stop to smirk as she never see you are so frustrated.

"Of course, I want to fuck you, but you made it quite clear you don't want that. You even seem to feel superior about it, quite trashy if I do say so. You can leave now." I say as I pull away from her and dress myself.

'How do you know I won't let you fuck me if you beg for it.' Tzuyu said as she removes the last piece of clothes, she is fully naked now, and your eye scanned her body, from her mid-size tits, her abs, her great hips, her meaty thighs, and her long legs. You back to the head and see her seductive face. Your bulge in your pants becomes even bigger. The existence of Tzuyu is already a temptation, you now understand what she said, every man she met will definitely want to fuck her.

Tzuyu walks to you and slowly caresses your bulge, 'Are you sure you going to leave now? You are not going to have a second chance.'

"You're the type that'll make me beg and then not give it to me. I know that for certain." I respond. "Don't try to tell me otherwise."

'If you beg, you could at least cum, right?' Tzuyu squeeze your bulge before stepping away and start dressing.'

'I am glad that you can hold on, you are the first one who can do it. No one can resist me in the past, that's why I am still a virgin.'

'I guess you should leave with your bulge maybe. Don't help him, Sana. Let him suffer the pain of allowing to cum, let him know girls are not belong to men.' Tzuyu says when she approaches the door.

"She is going to be annoying," I say to myself. "You're free to go if you'd like Sana"

'She is fun, isn't she? She is so beautiful and skillful, I am turned on immediately after she touched me. I see you are too? You cum 2 times in 5 minutes! I never see you cum that quickly. She is just born for sex, no matter whether male or female would fall to her. I am looking forward to playing with her again.'

'It's a shame I can't see Tzuyu showcasing her skill more, do you need me to help you before I off work? Or you want to leave it for tomorrow' Sana points at your bulge, it is not as big as you are playing with Tzuyu, it's still obvious that your cock need to be free.

"If you wouldn't mind Sana. This time I want to cum in your pussy though."

'Sure, boss. Just do it in the way you like.' Sana sits on your desk and uncover her skirt, you can see her pussy is wet already.

I slide my cock between her pussy lips a few times before thrusting into Sana. I pull Sana into a kiss. "I'll miss you, Sana. Tomorrow we'll spend the entire day fucking."

'Ah, Miss me already when you are still fucking me?' Sana returns to your kiss. ' I will be happy if you have the stamina to fuck me the whole day tomorrow, get some rest tonight, ok? Don't fuck other girls and leave the cum for me.' Sana grabs your ass and pushes you towards her.

I continue thrusting into Sana, joking "weren't you saying to fuck Dahyun just a little while ago?"

'I wouldn't mind you go to fuck her, but you can't cum. From now until the end of tomorrow, all your cum should be dedicated for me, ok?' Sana starts licking your nipple to give you more pleasure.

'You can bring Dahyun come tomorrow, let her know how bad her Oppa is.'

"I'm not doing that Sana," I pick up my pace and ram my cock deeper into Sana, "tell me when you're going to cum"

'Why huh? Afraid your image of good Oppa will collapse?' Sana increases her pace of grinding, she tenses her pussy for milking you.

'If you bring Dahyun to come tomorrow, I can create a chance for you to fuck her, but you need to come for me again, deal?'

"I'm not going to bring Dahyun, Sana." I pull on Sana's hips and hold her down while I start to piston in and out of Sana's pussy.

'You gonna fuck her in mind for the rest of your life huh?' Sana bites your nipple lightly, make you to moan.

'Dahyun is cumming, Oppa, faster!' Sana starts the role play again as she sees you refuse to admit the fact.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum. Take it all Sana!" I say I bury cock deep inside her and start to cum inside her.

'Yes, Oppa, give a kid to Dahyun! Cum in me!' Sana screams when she cums with you, you are more turned-on hearing Dahyun ask you to cum for her. The waves of cum keep splashing out from your cock, her walls presses you tightly to drain you.

'You should call me Dahyun instead of Sana, we are role-playing.' Sana rest lazily on your desk as she is recovering.

I pull out of Sana and sit down. "Yeah, sure I'll do it tomorrow if you want."

'Is you want, not I want, don't you want to fuck Dahyun huh?' Sana leaves the table and kneels to clean your cock.

The suction of Sana's mouth is really, you can feel she is sucking the remaining cum out of your cock. You pat her head and enjoy her service.

'So, how do you feel? You can fuck Sana and 'Dahyun' both tomorrow, excited?'

I force Sana down to the base of my cock. "Let's be quiet and enjoy this."

Sana has no other options as your push her deeply into your base, she now focuses on your cock and cleaning it.

You look at Sana starts to gag as your keep holding your cock in her throat.

Your phone rings and it's Momo, she should be coming for your answer. You look at the phone and think should you pick up the call.

I mute the ringtone and let Sana finish before calling Momo back when I'm alone.

Sana did not give you the chance, she strugglely grabs the phone and help you pick up the call while she is still sucking you.

The speaker is on, and there is only silence, after a while Momo finally speaks. 'Long time no see, how are you, Y/N?'

"Doing better, how are you?"

'No, no good, very bad when I am not with you.' Momo answers you on the other side of the phone.

You try to answer her but Sana is keep teasing you, you don't want Momo suspect anything as you think you will start to moan.

The call is silence again, you brain is fully functioning while you enjoy Sana's intense blow job.

'Y/N?' Momo asks again.

"I'm sorry Momo, just a bit busy with work. I also don't know what to say"

'So you don't have anything that you want to say? such as our relationship.' Momo asks again.

Sana's faces show that she is waiting for the drama, but she increases her intensity at the same time.

You are excited at this scenario which you two may get caught, your breath become heavier.

'Hey ,Y/N, are you listening to me?'

"Momo there are a lot of things I want to say but I don't know how to say them. I think that we should meet up some day next week. This weekend doesn't work for me unfortunately."

Sana seems not satisfied by your answer, she wants more drama. Sana let your cock go, and start rides you.

You try to push away Sana, but she just put a finger on her lips and tell you to be quiet, meanwhile she bite her lips to prevent let out moan.

'I want to see you now, Y/N. I just miss you so much.'

'Sorry, I need to pick up my step sister tonight, I am really not free.

'Umm... Um.....' Sana reaches orgasm first in this excited scenario, her juice splashing all over your cock, you can't hold on anymore, you push deeper and cum in her.

Momo seems noticed something as she hear your tone so strange, and she could hear some sounds from you and Sana's body when Sana rides you.

'You ok? Y/N, is there someone next to you?'

"I have a co-worker with me, I'm trying to juggle two things at once. Sorry, give me a minute to call you back." I hang up before Sana has a chance to stop me.

'Damn, it's so excited. I love it.' Sana starts to catch her breath after you end the call.

'I'm so high, she nearly caught us. Can you feel how tight I am?' Sana says while grinding you again.

'Maybe we can call Dahyun tomorrow while we are fucking.'

"Get dressed and get out Sana. We'll talk tomorrow." I say very seriously.

Sana gets up from your lap and kisses you, 'Remember get some rest tomorrow, I hope both of us can't walk on Sunday, see you tomorrow.' Sana then get dressed and leave your room.

#minasaiyatis #twice smut #sana smut #tzuyu smut #twice sana #twice tzuyu #twice imagines #momo smut #twice momo #kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut

[lukall705]

Young love chapter 3

https://www.tumblr.com/lukall705/739528729734299648/young-love-chapter-1?source=share Chapter one

https://www.tumblr.com/lukall705/740076676409622529/young-love-chapter-2?source=share chapter two

TW? idk

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Sigma POV:

Me and Y/N are walking to the shopping center near our campus. "so what your favorite colour?" i ask them "oh its F/C and F/C" they say and smile at me "whats your favorite colour?" they ask me. "my favorite colour is purple" i say. "i have to say i really like your outfit" i say and they blush a bit "o-oh th-thank you.. i'm not used to people complementing my outfits" they say and look a bit embarrassed. "sorry if i start stuttering, it happens when i'm nervous" they laugh awkwardly. "oh no its okay, i also stutter sometimes when i'm nervous" i try to reassure them. 

We both keep chatting until we get to the mall "Lets go to hot topic!" Y/N says happily "Hot topic? you don't seem like someone who would shop there?" i say and it seems like Y/N wants to say something but doesn't. I wonder what they were gonna say.

As we walk in is see Y/N going over to some pretty revealing clothes. "y-you wear this type of clothes..? a-aren't they a bit.. revealing..?" i ask them "i'd rather be slut then basic" they say while pulling out a shirt that says 'cum slut'. "oh.." i chuckle nervelessly. "should i get this one?" they ask "..i mean if you want to.." "oh! I've been looking for a shirt like this" Y/N says and shows me a shirt with hand prints on the chest "there's matching pants for it too!" they say. 'we've been friends for like an hour and they are already this comfortable around me?' i think 'well at least they are having fun, right? thats the only thing that maters' 

"also i forgot to ask but what country are you from?" i ask them. They look at me before answering "Finland, i'm Finnish"(or whatever country your from) They keep looking at stuff in the store. 

A few hours later: (still sigma's POV)

As we both walk up the stairs Y/N starts talking "I'm sorry you have to carry my stuff" They look embarrassed "it's really no problem, i'm glad i could help" i smile at them while they open the door to their dorm.

"take off your shoes please" they say and i take of my shoes "my room is right over there" they point at a door. 

"oh, Y/N you're back" i hear a voice say. I look over to the couch and see Dazai and Chuuya cuddling while watching some movie. Y/N just ignores them both and walks over to their room. "hey Sigma!" Dazai waves to me and i wave back awkwardly.  

"Just put the bags over there" Y/N points to a corner in their room. "wow, your room looks nice" i say and look around "thanks" they say. I spot some drawings on their desk "did you make these yourself? they look really nice" "oh, yeah i did and thanks" they smile "your quite good at drawing clothes, you know. you could become a clothing designer one day" as i say this is see Y/N's smile get wider. 

Y/N pulls out a picture book from a backpack. "hm? whats that?" i ask them "its a photo book, sometimes i do small modeling shoots for fun" they say and give me the book "wanna see?" they ask "yeah" i say and open the book.

"i'll go change while you look through it" Y/N says and goes into the bathroom. 'wow these look really nice' i say while looking through the pages. suddenly some photos catch my eye. its pictures of Y/N with different colored hand prints all over their body.  'oh' i think.

Y/N's POV:(TW?)

I'm standing in front of my bathroom mirror looking at my arms with the words 'i'm so disgusting' repeating over and over in my mind. 'why am i this disgusting?' 'its no wonder my past boyfriends left me' 'i fucking hate myself' 'i should just die' 'i bet Sigma is just pretending to be my friend so he can leave like everyone else did' 'i'm so fucking fa-' my thoughts are interrupted by a knock on my bathroom door. 

"are you okay in there Y/N?" Sigma asks from outside "you've been in there for 15 minutes" he adds '15 minutes?' "i'm fine! i'm coming out in a second" i say and quickly wrap bandages that are the same colour as my skin around my arms to hide the scars. 

I see Sigma looking at the bandages but doesn't say anything about them. "I need to go back to my dorm now, its getting kinda late and i don't want Nikolai to lock me out again" Sigma says and scratches the back of his head. "oh thats fine" i smile and i walk him to the door.

"see you in class tomorrow" i say "yeah" he smiles and i hug him. "bye" he says as he walks out the door and runs over to his door.

When i turn around i almost scream as i see Dazai and Chuuya standing right behind me. 'HOLY SHIT' i think as they both stare at me. "w-what are you two doing?" i ask nervously. "Is he your boyfriend?" Chuuya asks and looks at me suspiciously "what!? No! we're just friends!" i say "yeah, sureee. just friends" Dazai says in teasing voice "we're not dating!" "okay okay, clam down" Dazai says.  

"also, whats with the bandages?" Chuuyas asks me and i freeze up 'fuck' "none of your business!" I yell and they both look shocked that i yelled at them. "sorry" "its okay, i shouldn't have asked" Chuuyas says. 

all three of us stand there in awkward silence. "so.. you wanna watch a movie or something with us?" Dazai asks "yeah sure" i say wanting this awkward silence to just end already. The three of us make our way over to the couch and i sit in the corner of the couch a bit away from them. "what should we watch?" Chuuya asks "a horror movie" i say "Yeah, but what movie" He says. "Terrifier " I smirk "okay" Chuuya says while putting on the Movie and getting comfortable under a blanket with Dazai.

"I would love to be tied up like that by Chuuya~" Dazai says as we get to the scene where Art tied a naked woman upside down. "i think you should watch the whole scene before saying something like that" i say while drinking water "what do you me-" i watch as the colour drains from Dazai's and Chuuya's face when Art starts to cut the woman's body in half from her crotch.

"Art is so baby girl! he did nothing wrong! hes just a silly clown!" i say after the movie is done "WHAT!? HE JUST KILLED 9 PEOPLE!? WHAT DO YOU MEAN "HES SO BABY GIRL"!? ARE YOU CRAZY!?" Chuuya looks at me like i just killed someone. "Crazy!? no! i just think Art is hot! hes so dreamy!" i say "You're even worse then Dazai!" Chuuya yells "huh?! what do you mean by that?!" I yell in a surprised voice. 

"I MEAN THAT YOU ARE MORE OF A DISGUSTING FREAK THEN DAZAI"

When i heard his words i completely freeze up 'they think i'm a freak?' the words hurt me more then i let show. the words ring in my ears 'i'm a freak' 'I'M A FREAK!?' it feels like time stopped and i have no idea how long i sat there not saying anything 'do they not like me!? do they not wanna be my friends anymore!?' its all my fault' 'why am i like this!?' 'i hate myself' my thoughts are interrupted by Chuuya.

"Are you okay Y/N..? you look a bit pale.." he says and both him and Dazai look at me worriedly. Chuuya waves his hand in front of my face "hello? you've been sitting there for 15 minutes, are you okay?" he asks worriedly "uh.. yeah, i just don't feel well, i'll go to bed.." i say and get up from the couch. Dazai and Chuuya both look at each other "i think you might have hurt their feelings.." i hear Dazai say to Chuuya while i'm getting myself some water. 'did he really mean what he said..?' i think before going to my room.

After getting ready for bed i check the time. '00:26am'. i see Sigma sent me a message 'Goodnight Y/N, i think Nikolai and Fyodor are gonna stay up again so i hope they don't keep you up and if they do just tell me and i'll them to be more quiet:)' i smile a bit while reading it. 'goodnight' i send back and put my phone on my bedside table. 

A few hours later i wake up and check the time on my phone '4:23am'. i'm feeling like absolute shit right now, it feels like there are hundreds of thoughts running through my head right now. And for some reason they are all of my negative thoughts. i feel tears start to form in my eyes 

'why am i so useless?' 

I think to myself.

'Why can't i control how i feel? why are my emotions such a pain in the ass?' i start to silently cry into my pillow hoping that i don't wake up Chuuya and Dazai who are sleeping in the room next to me. 'What's the point of going on if everyone thinks i'm a freak?' my tears start to stain the pillow under me.

~(Flashback)~

"You're just a stupid freak!" My mother says. "You're a good for nothing child!" My mom yells again "you should just die for all care!"  i had just tolled my mom about my problems. the disgusting things i feel. I wanna cry right now but no tears are coming out.. i just feel ..empty.. i feel nothing as my mom yells at me for how much of a freak and how disgusting i am. 

~(end of flashback)~

"i think i need to go out and get some fresh air.." i say to myself while getting up from my bed and putting on some clothes. 

I walk through the dorm as quietly as i can so i don't wake up Dazai and Chuuya. i put on my shoes and walk out into the hallway. I see that its still a bit dark out side through the window at the end of the hallway. 

As i walk up a set of stairs to the roof of the building i start thinking about my life. 'I don't see any point in living anymore, everyone in my life thinks i'm a freak' i think.

When i open the door to the roof i feel a cold breeze hit my face. It feel quite refreshing actually. i walk over to the fance near the edge of the building and climb over it. 'i think this is where i'll end this life of mine..'

I pick up my phone and bring it to my ear. "..hello..?" i hear Sigma's tired voice say on the other end of the phone. "..Are Nikolai and Fyodor making to much noise? i can go tell them to quiet dow-" "no need to" "..huh..? why..?" "they aren't the thing keeping me up" "..okay.:" i hear Sigma yawn "..where are you right now Y/N..? i can hear the wind" "i'm sitting on my bed with window open" i lie "oh okay.." i can hear that hes really sleepy.

"so.. why did you call me..?" he asks "i just wanted to say that i'm not feeling to well so i might not make it to school tomorrow" i lie again "..oh okay.." "goodnight Sigma" "Goodnight Y/N.."  As i hang up the phone i feel rain drops hit my face, "do i even want this..?" i ask myself as i close my eyes preparing to fall.

"Don't do it" I hear a deep voice say from behind me. I turn around and see a man in his late fourties to early fifties with white long hair standing under an umbrella. "but what's the point of going on..?" i say in a broken voice "There's nothing left for me to live for..." i feel tears start to form in my eyes again.

"it may feel like that right now, but it does get better. this isn't the right choice" he says while looking me in the eyes. "..why should i believe that..?" tears start to run down my cheeks "..when everyone sees me as a freak.." i start remembering all the times my mother called me a disgusting freak. "whats your name?" he asks "..huh..? its Y/N.." i say "its nice to meet you Y/N, my name is Fukuzawa" the man says.

"Now tell me Y/N, are you sure you want to do this or is it because you feel like you deserve this?" he asks and i stay quiet. i have no idea how to answer him, i don't even really know myself.

'is this really what i want?' i think as my tears blur my vision.

I feel the rain soaking my clothes and hair as i cry. And after a few minutes i climb back over the fence. I see Fukuzawa opening his arms and i hug him. its the first time in forever i feel comforted by someone.  Fukuzawa rubs my back as i cry and suddenly i'm a 6 year old crying into my mothers chest, but this time i'm actually getting comforted and not yelled at. 

Fukuzawa stays still until i'm done crying, he stands there listening to me vent about my problems not saying a word. 

"..Please don't tell anyone about this.." i say while whipping my tears away. "i won't, now i think you should go back to your dorm and get some rest, you have school tomorrow" he says and pets my head.

We both walk back down the stairs in silences until i ask "how did you know i was up there..?" i look at him waiting for an answer. "i happened to be walking to the roof to enjoy some fresh air and saw you" he answers. "oh.." 

When i get to my dorm i open the door "goodnight Mr. Fukuzawa.." i say and he nods. i close the door when i see him starting to walk away. I quietly walk back to my room hoping Dazai and Chuuya aren't awake.

When i sit down on my bed i check the time '4:56am' i yawn as i put my phone down on my bedside table again and lay down in bed.(after taking of your wet clothes ofc)

As i lay there i start to think about what would have happened if Fukuzawa didn't stop me. Would i be dead? would be suffering in pain just wanting to die? would i have changed my mind? all of these thoughts are flooding my mind until i eventually fall asleep. 

The next morning i wake up with a pretty bad headache and groan when i get up from the bed "jeez.. i don't feel like going to school today at all.." i say while going into the bathroom to brush my teeth.

After brushing my teeth i put on my uniform.

 

(You can chose which ever one you like. also ik that most colleges in japan don't have uniforms but just pretend this college has them)

As i look at myself in the mirror i see my chubby belly '....' its one of the things i hate about myself but can't get rid of no mater how much starve myself.

I pick up my bag and walk out of my room and see Chuuya and Dazai standing in the kitchen talking about something. I walk over to the coffee machine to make coffee and notice that Chuuya has a guilty look on his face. "Good morning Y/N!" Dazai says in a happy voice "hm.." i hum in response as i drink my coffee hoping it would keep me awake. 

"Did you sleep well last night?" he asks and i nod "oh yeah, also the principal asked me to give you this, its your class schedule" he says while handing me a piece of paper "thanks" i say while looking over it 'Okay so i have P.E first then math, then social studies, then lunch, then English, then music, then science' 

"P.E at like 7:30 in the morning on a Monday?" i look at them both 'thats gonna be hell and i only got like 3 hours of sleep' "P.E is your first class? You must be really unlucky, Mr. Fukuchi makes all of his students run like 23 miles if you have him in your first class" Chuuya says 'yay how lucky i am' i have a bitter look on my face. 

"whats your first classes?" i ask them "we both have social studies as our first class" Chuuya says 'Lucky motherfuckers' i check the time on my phone and see its 7:24 am "i think we should get going its already 7:24" i say and they nod.

As the three of us run so we won't be late for class i suddenly remember something "wait! i don't know where the P.E area is!" i yell "you have to go to the back of the school to the changing rooms!" Chuuya yells to me as he and Dazai run into another hallway to get to class.

When i get to the back of the school i start panting and see the other students already ready for P.E "You're late" i here a man say "Sorry! its my first day here! i had no idea where i had to go!" i look up at him and i see him glaring me down. i gulp

"Fine since its your first day i'll let it slide" he says while playing with his mustache "huh" i look dumbfounded "Now go change into your P.E clothes before i change my mind" he says "Yes sir!" i say and run into the changing rooms. "and the rest of you start running!" he yells at the other students. 

"How the hell does this even count as shorts?! these are basically panties!?" i say to myself as i walk out of the changing rooms. (TW? for what comes next)

When i start running i feel some people looking at me. When i look around me i see a lot of other girls who are much skinnier then me looking and pointing at me while giggling. 'why do i have to be so fat..?' i hate it here this was supposed to be a new start for me but its almost just like the life i had back home. i feel like i want to cry. 

"Jeez, just let them be alone! what did they do to you?" i hear a young woman's voice say. i look at where the voice is coming from and i see a pretty woman with short black hair and a butterfly clip in it.  

"oh, wait i get it! you guys are jealous that they look better then you!" She says and smirks at them "What!? no!" one of the girls say and look pissed "then what is it?" the black haired woman says "its.. its umm.." the girl can't give good reason as to why they back talked me and leaves with her friends.

"are you alright?" the black hair woman asks me "y-yeah.." i smile at her "Yasano" she says "Y/N" i say back and she shakes my hand.

The rest of P.E is spent by me and Yasano doing the run and chatting.

After i come out of the changing room after changing back into my uniform, i start to look for my math class. while walking i accidentally bump into someone "ah, sorry!" i say to them. The person i bumped into just glares at me not saying a single word "s-sorry.." i say in an embarrassed voice. i quickly rush away from embarrassment. i keep running in the hallway until i see a  familiar face "Sigma!" i yell and he turns around. (i almost had a fucking stroke trying to write familiar) 

"Y/N! so you did make it to school, i was worried since you didn't answer my massages" he smiles at me "oh, i think i was just feeling like shit because of the lack of sleep last night" i lie. "also do you know where room xoxo is?" i ask him "Oh i was just about to head over there right now since i also have math class" he says and we start walking.

After math, me and Sigma go to the cafeteria to eat lunch. after getting our food we go to sit down at a table with Nikolai and Fyodor.

(This is the lunch:3) "This looks so good!" i say. "I've been waiting for this the whole day!" i say. While i start to eat i see Nikolai is nagging Fyodor again. "No Nikolai, we can't get a 3rd rat" he says in his heavy Russian accent. "oh yeah, i never got to ask, but are you Russian?" i ask Fyodor "sorry if that sound stupid or rude" "You are right, i am Russian" he says and gives me a gentle smile. 

Dazai POV: 

The both of us sit down at a table with Atsushi and Akutagawa after getting our food. While eating our food me and Chuuya see that Y/N is eating with Nikolai, Fyodor and Sigma, adn it looks like they are having a lot of fun. I see Chuuya glaring at them. I know how much he wants to say that hes sorry to Y/N but he doesn't have the balls to do it in front of other people. 

While watching them i see Y/N smiling and laughing, 'they look kinda cute while they are happy..' i think. i feel a bit annoyed that Y/N is hanging out with them and not us 'wait.. am.. am i jealous..?' Seeing Y/N so happy kinda makes me happy too.. 

I notice how angry Chuuya looks "hey, Chuuya~ what class do you have after this?~" i ask "Math why?" he looks at me a bit calmer now. "oh i was thinking~ maybe we skip class to, you know~" i say with a smirk and Chuuya blushes a bit. Chuuya sends me a message 'fine, but only because i have to relieve stress ' i smile and text back 'okay babe'

After lunch the both of us sneak away into a bathroom. I pin Chuuya to the bathroom wall as we make out "Fuck i love you so much..~" i whisper into his ear as i pull down his pants. i bend him over the sink "be a good boy and try to not make to much noise, okay?~" i whisper in his ear and he nods. "j-just start already.." he moans out. "fine~" i say as i pull down my pants. i slowly push my hard cock into his hole "a-ah~" Chuuya moans into his hand. "you.. you can move now..~" he pants out as i start thrusting. "ah~ D-dazai~ please faster~" Chuuya begs and i start moving faster. "Ah!~ Ah~" Chuuya moans as he grips the sink "what's wrong baby?~ is it to much for you?~" i say as i take his cock into my hands and start rubbing his sensitive tip "Ah!~ dazai~ please let me cum!~" Chuuya has tears in his eyes from the overestimation. i bite the back of his neck "not yet pretty boy~" i can feel myself getting closer to cumming. I put my hand over Chuuyas mouth and pull his head back by his hair as he whimpers "you wanna cum pretty boy?~" i tease him. "Mhm!~ Mhm!~" he nods with pretty tears falling from his eyes. 

"Cum then~" i whisper into his ear and flip him onto his back. "Come on baby~" i say as i thrust faster and pump his pretty cock. After a few seconds he cums all over his belly. "AH!~" Chuuya moans as he cums. i pull out of him and pump my cock until i cum on his belly to "ngh~" i groan as i cum. 

I kiss his tears away "you did so well.."

Y/N POV: 

When i get to my music class i only see one face i recognizance. 'thank god!' i think as i walk up to Nikolai. "I'm so happy that i at least know one person from this class" "Y/N! I'm so happy that one of my friends is in this class!" he says and hugs me tightly. 

While me and Nikolai hug i see Dazai and Chuuya walk into the room, and Chuuya's legs seem to be shaking a bit? 

I see Chuuya looking a bit annoyed when he sees Nikolai hugging me 'whats his deal?'

When the teacher comes in she start explaining that we have to dance a dance, and to get a partner.  "Y/N! be my partner!" Nikolai whines "i was just about to ask you to be mine.." i chuckle.

After school is over i walk back to my dorm. (i'm to lazy to write what happens for the rest of the school day so just use you imagination)

When i get back to the dorm i plop onto the couch "man.. this day was hell and its only the first day.." while laying on the couch thinking about what i should do i hear the door open. I see Chuuya and Dazai walk in.

I get up from the couch to get myself some water. after getting my water i try to go to my room but Dazai grabs my hand to stop me "..Y/N.. Chuuya has something to say to you.." he says. "okay.. go on.." i say and stand face to face with him.

We both stand there for a few minutes in silence while Chuuya avoids eye contact. "..Y/N i'm sorry for calling you disgusting freak.." he says while scratching the back of his head. 'for some reason it doesn't seem sincere..' i stand there for a while before speaking "i'll forgive you.." i say and look down. "i hope we can be friends.." he says. "yeah me too.." for some reason the though of us only being friends hurt me.. i don't know why tho.

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(i need some feedback, was the y/n to dramatic? was this to early for some angst? or was it just fine)

#bsd x reader smut #bsd #dazai osamu #dazai smut #dazai x reader #bungo stray dogs #chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #bsd sigma #sigma headcanons #bsd nikolai #nikolai gogol #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd x reader #bsd atsushi #bsd dazai #bsd fanart #bsd chuuya #bungou gay dogs #bungou stray dogs fanart

[lizzielikeborden]

hi :)

i just saw that you were accepting requests for eddie munson (stranger things)

and i was wondering if you could do a eddie x reader where she (or they, as you prefer) ask him to fake date bc she wants to piss off her parents lol (clearly it’s based on the song 18 by anarbor but anyway-)

problem is that they really fall in love with each other, but they’re scared to admit because they’re not sure if the feeling is mutual…

(idk if that makes sense??)

thank youuuu <3

3.0k words

When will you bring home a nice boy? How come you never bring any boyfriends home? You need to get yourself out there more and fall in love, that’s what teenagers do.

The voices of your parents echo in your head, added with their story of how they met. For a week straight ever since the announcement that the neighbor girl had gotten engaged to her high school sweetheart came out they heckled you and poked at you to find a boy, to find someone to date, to find teenage love. It’s not like you never had crushes or little relationships but a lack of interest in love life was more the problem. But whatever, if they wanted you to bring someone home you would, but nice and well behaved he wouldn’t be. You had a friend who you hoped would help you out. 

“Eddie! Wait up!” You had stood too outside the school spacing out waiting to see him which had made you almost miss him. 

“Princess! What do you want!” Eddie gave you the same enthusiasm back as he spun around and started slowing down walking backwards. 

“I have to ask a favor of you.” Walking faster you caught up with him, those around you gave you stares and looked around as he accidentally kept bumping into people. 

“What do I get out of it?” Eddie grabbed your hand and spun himself under your arm to walk right next to you and face the direction of the rest of the crowd walking out of the school. 

“You don’t even know what the favor is.” You laughed as he walked with you fluffing his hair and twisting his rings around his fingers

“I can guarantee you I’ve done worse.” He put emphasis on guarantee as you both stopped walking, now far away enough to not interrupt the flow of traffic. 

“Will you come over to dinner tonight to meet my parents and pretend to be my boyfriend so they’ll leave me alone?” You said everything as fast as you could squinting your eyes and scrunching up your face scared of his reaction. 

“Sure, what time?” He shrugged his shoulders and looked at you dead in the eyes like what you just said wasn’t possible madness. 

“Five oclock, don’t dress up, make sure at least one tattoo is visible, keep all the rings, chains and anything else that you love to wear on.” You gave him a quick run down seeing how calm he was with the idea of tricking your parents. 

“Rockin’ dress code,” He nodded his head and moved his head around as he did. On the inside he was curious a little as to why you were being so specific with his appearance and why out of everyone you could’ve asked this to you waited for him and asked him. 

“Just be authentically yourself, full on, one hundred percent. No differences in speaking, body language, or language in general.” You were banking on saying that and hoping it wouldn’t strike his nerves at all, nor come off as strange. 

“You can count on that, and you can count on me. I’ll see you tonight sweetheart, don’t be late!” Eddie picked your hand up and kissed the back of it before bowing a little and walking away. 

“Wait! Don’t you wanna know what you get out of it!” You yelled in his direction not caring if anyone heard what you said regardless of how it sounded. But, Eddie just kept walking away from you, which made you wonder what you had said that was good enough for him to not see anything out of it. 

“Something tells me this could be a bad idea.” You whispered under your breath moving to go to your transportation mode. Just so you could head home and tell your parents that you finally decided to let them meet your boyfriend. You knew that they’d be slightly peeved at you for just now bringing him up, and doing this on such short notice. But you also knew that they’d be ecstatic to hear that you have a boyfriend and that he’s coming over finally… 

4:44 PM

“Put the napkins down and then the silverware on top of them, I want this to look nice, I don’t want him to think we’re messy.” Your mother spoke as she cleaned the same counter she had cleaned over and over again. She insisted that the two of you scrub the house clean and pick up every little dust particle before company came over, but especially someone as important and new as the mystery boy. 

“The boy isn’t gonna care about the silverware.” Your dad mumbled under his breath sitting at the table fiddling with his napkin. 

“He may not even touch it.” You whispered to yourself as you sat down the last knife and turned over the side of the napkin to rest around the base of all three pieces. 

“I’m sure he will appreciate the clean house and the etiquette.” Your mother snapped back and you realized how much fun this was really going to be knowing that good and goddamn well Eddie didn’t even care if his shoes were two different types as long as they were the same color. 

“Anyone home!” All three of your heads snapped towards the door hearing someone pound on the poor front door like they were gonna punch it open if someone didn’t move faster to twist and pull the knob. Both of your parents looked at one another as it continued.

“Yes!” You laughed and ran over to the door pulling open the door you were immediately met with a huge bear hug. 

“Hey babe.” He picked you up a little bit carrying you further inside the house still holding you around the waist in the hug. 

“You’re early.” You laughed into his shoulder, you could see your mother in your peripheral vision, eyes wide. Letting go of Eddie you took in his appearance, he was wearing his classic Hellfire Club shirt, black jeans with a chain, chunky rings, and black boots. 

“I was just too excited to meet mom and dad to be late.” Eddie was being quite loud as he peaked around your head and smiled at your mother taking one hand off your waist waving at her enthusiastically. 

Spinning around you had to see the look on your mom's face when she saw Eddie fully, she smiled lightly still looking somewhat afraid. Smiling even wider you locked your hand with Eddie knowing that her eyes were directly placed on his tattoo. 

“D-dinner is almost ready.” She piped up tucking some hair behind her ear before turning on her heels and going back into the kitchen. 

“Thanks mom!” Eddie shouted, still holding your hand. 

“Thank you so much for coming.” You whispered to him, now standing directly in front of him with a real smile. 

“Anything for you princess.” He winked with wide eyes before taking your other hand and squeezing both of them at the same time. 

“Still haven’t met my dad.” Laughing, you stuck out your tongue about thinking about how your mother must be either scolding your father to behave because the boy you brought home was not the image either of them had pictured while also talking in shock. 

“Daddy!” Eddie grabbed you by the hand, leading his own way through the house, following where he had saw your mother go. 

“Did that boy just yell ‘daddy’ at me?” Your father turned and looked as the two of you were now standing in the entryway of the dining room where he sat. 

“Dad, Eddie,” you gestured at Eddie who was smiling ear to ear, “Eddie, dad.” You returned the same gesture. 

“Eddie Munson.” Your father did not reach out to shake Eddie’s so he took it upon himself to grab his hand off the table and shake it. 

“Y/D/N.” He begrudgingly shook the boy's hand back, looking him up and down. 

“Dinner’s ready, Y/n why don’t you uh come here and help me.” Nodding you let go of Eddie’s hand and he whipped one of the chairs from the table and sat directly in front of your father facing him. 

“So, what do you think?” Whispering to your mom you took plates out of the cabinet, and sat them down next to where your mom was going to place the food.

“He’s certainly got a lot of energy.” She moved around you to put what she had made on the plates. “He’s also got a tattoo and wears more jewelry than me.” 

“He’s got more than one tattoo, and it’s just his sense of style.” Taking two plates from the counter you walked away to put them on the table before she could say anything else. 

“This looks great, mom.” You sat down in front of Eddie as your mother brought out two more plates and sat in front of your father. 

“Thank you Eddie, it’s Eddie right?” As she sat down she put her napkin in her lap setting her area perfectly. 

“The one and only.” He winked at her before unfolding his napkin and eating quickly. 

“So, do you play any sports?” Your father asked leaning forward as he started to eat as well. 

“No, I don't play with balls.” Choking on your drink a little you couldn’t help but laugh at least a little bit at the shared reaction within the table. 

“Anyway, what does your shirt refer to? What’s the Hellfire Club?” Her voice faltered after reading the shirt more. 

“Only the official club of D&D that I lead.” Mid sentence he swallowed all the food in his mouth so that he could put more volume behind his leadership role. 

“D and D? I don’t follow.” Your mother was trying to hold the conversation with him because the look on your fathers face was priceless after the balls comment, he was staring at Eddie like he was an alien. 

“Babe, you didn’t tell them about the coolest game ever invented?” You were now the center of attention, all eyes were on you. 

“No one knows it better than you, I couldn’t give it justice.” Pouting his lip he dropped his fork on his plate. 

Suddenly he threw both his hands into his chest palms pressing against his shirt, his rings facing out towards everyone at the table, “My heart. It’s so full.” His dramatics had you grinning ear to ear and your parents in shock. 

“Go on, tell them all about it, I love hearing you talk about it.”  You waved your fork at him as he cracked his knuckles leaning back in the chair. You really did love listening to him talk, you also loved watching the way he talked.

“Dungeons and Dragons is a game about coming into your power within and telling stories.  It's based in a swords and sorcery fantasy setting, but you can choose whether to join a pirate crew, explore a jungle, or participate in a political scheme. Everything is up to you, from your appearance to your actions to what happens next. The dice are only there to assist you.” Using his hands he explained everything, you watched in awe as he talked about something that meant a lot to him. 

“You run a board game club? Sounds like,” Your father looked to your mother to finish his sentence, “Fun. Sounds like a lot of fun.” 

“It’s more than a board game dad, truly it’s so much more involved and interesting.” You added onto the points being made.

“Do you play this dragon’s game?” Your mother turned her head to face you so fast you could almost hear her neck crack. 

“No, but I love to sit with Eddie, watch him and the boys play.” A sigh of relief left your mothers mouth, “Eddie and I do enjoy music together though.”  It would've been ridiculous to not bring up music when talking about Eddie, and that wasn't a lie, a lot of times Eddie would hum music he loved listening to towards you or he would just show you on his radio. Better yet he would play you a song on his guitar that he learned.

“Music? What kind of music?” Happy to change the conversation your father looked to you to do so bringing up something new. 

“Dio, Judas Priest,” Before you could continue Eddie did it for you, “Megadeath, Motorhead, Accept.” 

“You- Y/n. You’re listening to rock music?” You nodded your head looking at your mom as you put your napkin on your plate. 

“Eddie plays the guitar, he's really good at it.” Rising from your seat you saw that Eddie’s plate was also empty, so you walked around to him and picked up his plate kissing him on the cheek when you bent down. The action made your heart jump and his adrenaline spike.

He put the devil horns behind his head and stuck out his tongue once you rose, “Rock on.” Your mother gasped and jumped at his words and actions. 

“Well, it was nice having dinner with you, I think it’s time for me to go to bed.” Your father rose from his seat and pushed in his chair. Clearly he was angry at the very least with what had happened.

“Dad, it’s not even seven.” You chuckled while walking out to get his plate. 

“Goodnight everyone.” Ignoring your comment, your father hurried out of the room. 

“I need to go make my side of the bed, Eddie, you are welcome to stay and hang out with her. There’s water and pop in the fridge, if you need anything else just ask Y/n.”  She spoke fast as she stood from the table finally breaking from being perfect and put together abandoning her plate. 

“Thank you mom. It was lovely to meet you.” Eddie jumped up from his seat and bowed at your mother a bit before snatching her plate and handing it to you. 

“You-yeah of course you’re welcome.” She stuttered and moved out of the room. 

Standing in the kitchen you washed the dishes, Eddie leaned on the counter next to you. 

“I meant what I said earlier, thank you for coming.” Turning to face him you opened the drawer to pull out a towel. 

“I meant what I said earlier, anything for you princess.” His voice was genuine and so was the way he was looking at you. 

The two of you took a moment just staring at one another, but it wasn’t an awkward silence, it was a nervous silence before Eddie broke it, “Don’t think your parents like me.” 

“They’re just not used to you.” Before you could change the ending to “people like you” you realized how naturally that had come out of your mouth. 

“It’s they’re lucky day since they were being fooled.” Eddie all of a sudden didn’t sound like Eddie at all, it was too calm, too quiet, almost solemn. 

“I’m not going to tell them that.” You shook your head letting out air that would be close to being considered a laugh. 

“What are you gonna tell them then? What’s our breakup story?” Your heart sunk to the bottom of your stomach. You hadn’t really thought about how fake this all was, what was fake from him and what was real. Because you hadn’t had a plan, not for conversations, not how you would touch him, none of it. You just did all that by nature. The two of you weren’t super close before this but were good enough friends to get along. You almost always picked him to walk with and he did the same for you. You leaned on each other for little things. 

“Do I need to come up with one? You came up with all of this.” Eddie pointed at you with both of his hands. 

“I didn’t come up with all of this. It wasn’t like that. I just did those things, I wasn’t thinking about them when I did or said them.” You felt like your mom earlier, repeating the same action over and over again rubbing the same dish. 

“I have a thought,” He strung out the word thought taking two steps closer to you, “What if we don’t tell them a break up story?” 

“What would we tell them then?” You could feel him standing next to you if he moved his arm even a little he would be touching yours. 

“Nothing they haven’t already seen and heard.” Eddie wasn’t sure whether to directly say how he felt or what he wanted because he couldn’t gauge your reaction or feelings based on what you were doing. 

“I have an even better thought.” You sucked a lot of air into your lungs, putting the dish and rag down, “What if we never tell them what this was and instead we forget that this was supposed to be fake. Unless.” You didn’t get the chance to finish your sentence. 

“I wasn’t pretending.” Eddie cut you off assuming that he knew where you were going with this. 

“So then this is all real?” Facing one another you looked up at him, “We set ourselves up.” 

“Worth. Every. Minute.” Eddie pulled you forward wrapping his arms around your waist kissing the top of your head…

#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

[caluski]

ive made myself hot chocolate wine. hot wine chocolate maybe. its mostly hot chocolate and some wine... i only added a little because i havent made hot wine in a long time now, i was worried id evaporate the alcohol and make it gross. but it turned out fine and its good, maybe next time ill make some with spices. maybe replace oat milk with some other one... i think cashew might be good, maybe if i spot it on sale somewhere. with cinnamon maybe, with slices of orange? orange matches both chocolate and wine, why wouldn't it work with both at the same time. i wish i could spend an hour or so in the kitchen, making different infusions that i could try with someone else. its always so much more fun to try new things with another person.

i dont really mind drinking alone, since i already usually do it while watching something or writing. but i do really really miss drinking coffee or tea with other people. i miss talking to people so very very much. i talk so much.. if one somehow hasnt figured it out yet from the absolute fucking abundance of long posts on my blog, but i really do love talking. my big problem is that i talk so much, that my hot drinks cool down before i get to take a sip or two. im really horrible at keeping that balance between being caught up with the conversation and drinking. although i never really have much to say, i keep repeating the stories ive already told a million times before, and i say silly stuff, and i complain about a lot of things, and i get sidetracked constantly. not really in like, adorable or quirky way, i can imagine it must be annoying for the other people in the conversation, especially when i get too excited and interrupt people and dont listen very well. i think its one of those things i wanna improve about myself.

yesterday, as i was walking home through the centre of the city, i was horribly in need of coffee, it was so cold and i was in a good mood, and i only had weak green tea that morning, and since it was still pretty early in the day, the cafes had some free spots. but i walked in, looked around, and walked out. its like everything reminds me of loneliness these days, and when i got inside, tables were all taken by couples or groups. i dont think it was a sign of anything, but it made me so awfully bitter. i know loneliness doesnt make me special, i know literally everyone experiences it to some degree, but god, it really hurts to look around and see that despite everything, people always have someone out there. a best friend, a significant other, family member, whatever.

theres that stupid thing everyone always repeats, "theres always someone out there who loves you, even if you dont know about it". i used to hold onto that desperately, but its so dumb. unrealistic and dumb. it makes you hope that maybe right now youre alone, but once you'll be at your rock bottom, SOMEONE will magically show up and say, i care for you, and i will be by your side to support you, or whatever. but then you hit the rock bottom and theres nothing, or better yet, someone you had hoped would stay with you suddenly says "i have anxiety and seasonal affective disorder, i cant be around you or ill get worse, too", and you dont want them to get worse because of you, of course you dont. theyre being reasonable, and you know that, and you cant do anything about it. even if you do guilt-trip them into staying, would that even really help, if they resented you for it secretly for the rest of their life.

a week ago or so ive walked into a cafe, as well, but i got so overwhelmed that i had to pretend to look around which tables are free, and left right away. just brought in mud and puddles, probably, since it was such a snowy day. i worry that one day ill be better, but i wont be able to step foot inside a cafe anymore, because it will remind me of nothing but the days when it was just me and self-loathing. not that i can really afford cafes anymore, but i cant think about that now. or worse, that ill never get better, and ill never get to experience it again, the presence of another person by my side, having coffee or tea or desserts, and talking and laughing and maybe even flirting. that thought makes me nauseous, but i know its likely. it kind of sounds like not much to wish for, but it feels almost too perfect to ever be possible - not only to have money for that in the first place, but also a person who cares for you enough to want to be around you, to want to talk to you or listen to you, a person who wont tell you "we can go out, but i have only an hour" and then leave after 20 minutes because it turns out in that hour was included their ride back home.

i keep thinking, one day ill find someone, one day i wont be lonely anymore and then ill let it all out of my system. but i know its silly, because by the time ill find someone, ill forget how to really be a person, how to have a conversation. i talk to myself a lot, in my head, but its not enough, it doesnt really feel like anything. i write a diary, i write short stories, i write posts on this stupid blog, but nothing feels like talking to another person, and its awful. my memory is far worse, i stutter more and more with each passing year, im being more and more awkward in such an uncomfortable and humiliating way, that it only makes my brain scream at me to shut up forever. i know why my family doesnt want to talk to me, im more unpleasant than ive ever been. i know its unfair to be blaming them for not wanting me around; they stopped asking about anything, recently, because i cant stop crying whenever they start the topic of job search. i cry too much these days. i had to stop showing up to my favorite grocery store, because theyve seen me too many times all wet-eyed. and i cant help it anymore! i know im still human, i know im not a victim, i know my suffering isnt greater than anyone else's. but something has changed and i cant imagine getting better, anymore. or at least going back to who i used to be. theres no hope anymore! and if theres no hope for me anymore, what do i do? "just surviving" isnt neutral, its horrible, its painful, its a nightmare. i dont want my life to look like this. i dont know what to do anymore. and ive said it a thousand times, i know, but its the only thing i have floating around in my useless empty head. i miss hope. i miss believing that i could still be happy, one day. and i know that was stupid, too, i can see it now, but at least it was something to hold onto.

i miss being around people. i miss it so much. i miss talking to people so horribly. i miss laughing and i miss being held. i dont need all this cortisol. i dont want to forget what it feels like to not be alone. but the more i want it, the more out of reach everything feels, the more unrealistic even the simplest things seem. i might as well be dreaming of living in alternate universe fanfiction.

#i dont really say anything new or interesting here sorry. its not worth the read i just had to pour out my thoughts somewhere #pogaduchy

[kalpasio]

A Long Drive

You Got A Map For This Place?

A Kalpas x Psychic!Reader fic, Chapter 3, the last (and longest) chapter below!

Deep breath in, gather everything, deep breath out, leave it behind. Opening your eyes, you felt especially refreshed after meditating. Directly in front of you, Kalpas sat crisscross applesauce with his arms crossed firmly over his chest and his back leaning against the wall. Because of his mask, you couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or not, but he was definitely awake.

“You did it again,” he growled. “I could’ve killed you,” he almost sounded happy about the idea.

“Thanks for not doing that,” your ever-present smile brightened as you stood and stretched. “Was there something you needed?”

“Sakura wants you to come on a mission with us,” Kalpas stretched as well, though he managed to do it in the most intimidating way possible, somehow. His arms were up, but it looked like he was asking someone to try and get close to him so he could bring his arms back down over their head.

“Aren’t you with cocoon?”

“Yeah.”

For once your smile fell and a more solemn look took over, your brows pinched together, and a hand came to your chin in thought. “I don’t…fight really.”

“The hell do you mean you don’t fight.” Kalpas took an angry step towards you that went completely unnoticed. “I’ve seen you fight; you’ve fought with me.”

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna hurt anyone.”

“I’m the one doing the hurting. You’re back on the dropship half a mile away.”

“Oh.” You changed from clearly distraught to your neutral happy. “You just want me to help you.”

“I thought psychic MANTISes were supposed to be smart. Have you been listening at all?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty smart,” you smiled, completely—intentionally—skipping over the insult. “When’s the mission?”

You. Kicked. Ass. Ok, Kalpas kicked ass, but you really, really helped. Which meant you were, of course, asked to go on missions with him again. The more you helped, the more you learned his fighting style, and the more willing he became to talk with you.

His “mental car” became more detailed, now having cupholders with coffee stains, a chip in the passenger window, and CDs in the glovebox. You laughed when you saw them (“Who uses those things anymore?”) but they stayed, and the collection actually grew.

Off the field, Kalpas became very…attentive to your meditation schedule. Nights you would go down to the training grounds, he would happen to be finishing his workout as you entered. If you worked with any other MOTH while on base, he was nearby the whole time. Griseo was the only one allowed near your unaware body—if he didn’t scare her off just by standing there—everyone else was rather forcibly removed. Like most things, this didn’t seem to bother you very much.

You did, however, have to draw the line eventually. Kalpas made it his job to keep you safe (without consulting you, but that was a different issue). He followed you if he wasn’t busy, and if he needed to go somewhere, you were going with him, end of discussion. Trailing after him was not a problem, the problem was that one day you finished meditating and were sitting on a table and definitely not in your little room.

A quick glance around told you that you were in the canteen, and in front of you Kalpas was putting his tray away. Once he’d set it down, he turned back to you and held his arm out as though about to grab you when he froze, and you both stared at each other for a moment. You weren’t completely oblivious, you quickly caught on to the fact that he had been carrying you around base while you were out. Instead of saying anything, you just took the outstretched hand and used it to help steady you as you hopped off the table and pretended nothing had happened.

Later, you asked Su, and he informed you that Kalpas dragging you around like a sack of potatoes was nothing new. It was rather common to see him walking with you over his shoulder. Or held between both arms. Or—Su tried to bite back a laugh, but you saw it—Kalpas would put your arms and legs around him and place his arm under your butt to support you.

“He looks like a parent holding their toddler while trying to do something else,” Su gave up trying to hide his laughs, shoulders shaking and a hand over his mouth. “It’s funny enough seeing someone so serious carrying you like that, but most times the “something else” he’s trying to do, is threatening to kill someone and that’s why he needs his hand free.”

No one said anything to you or Kalpas because who wants to make the angry fire guy who could crush your bones more angry. Even just looking at you in his arms for too long was enough to earn a threat. Embarrassment was something you tried not to hold onto, but even you realized this had gotten a little out of hand.

“Could you please not carry me around when I meditate—”

“No.”

So being nice about it wasn’t going to work. Shocking. Dropping your smile, you tried to look serious, though it clearly didn’t work either.

“Parading me around base hardly seems like a worthwhile use of your time.”

“You can’t protect yourself. I’m doing it instead,” Kalpas scoffed, and you fully frowned at him.

“The base is safe. I am well protected in the training room. You don’t need to babysit me.”

“I’m not working with another psychic if you die.”

“And I won’t work with you if you continue to move me around.”

The conversation hadn’t gone according to plan, but the annoyance did stop. More because Kalpas couldn’t move you even if he wanted to; the day after your chat, you began locking the door to your little room. After the first day of being locked out—and trying to tear down the door—Kalpas got over it.

If he couldn’t break through that door, you were safe enough that he was ok with just checking in every so often. Well. More like he sat outside the door like a guard dog, but he wasn’t trying to drag you out and that’s what mattered. Unfortunately, Kalpas’ fears weren’t completely unfounded.

When the Herrscher of Corruption attacked, he was right outside the door, and you wasted no time reaching out to his consciousness. You were both safe from being controlled by the Herrscher, but the mechs around the base had been taken over—complete with glowing red lights instead of friendly blue.

Working together, it wasn’t very difficult to take out the machines, but just as you put the mental car in park, you hissed and tightly gripped your stomach. When your hand came away with blood, Kalpas panicked. He would never admit to it, but it’s hard to lie in your own mind.

Reaching over, he yanked the keys out of the ignition and forced you out of his head. Rather than gently fading away, the image of the car seemed to shatter like glass. Back in his own body, Kalpas stumbled for a moment, trying to adjust from the abrupt shift. He barely gave himself a second before he was straightening up. He had to get to you.

Sprinting down the halls he had just cleared, Kalpas could already see the door to your room open. How had he been so stupid. If the Herrscher could take over mechs, a locked door wasn’t going to stop her. And he had just left you there, completely vulnerable.

Inside, you lay on the floor, unconscious, and with blood blooming through your shirt just like it had in his mind. Beside you was a MOTH agent, still clutching her rifle, even as her eyes stared ahead unseeing. There were no visible wounds on her, but you were a different story, and you were the one he needed to keep breathing.

Su had tended to you personally, and you would be fine after some rest. The other MOTH in your room wasn’t as lucky. Kalpas didn’t listen, he didn’t care, but Su had to report that you had taken her mind. Not ‘taken over,’ taken. The thoughts people push towards you that you gently push back, could be kept. Yes, you could read those thoughts and return them, but you could also take the thought and keep it for yourself. Wipe their memory essentially.

When you first became a MANTIS, you had done this on accident, that’s how Su knew. You had never done it to this extent, however. Every thought, memory, dream, and fear was gone from the agent’s mind. She’d forgotten how to breathe, her heart stopped beating, and she never even knew what was missing or feared her death because she couldn’t.

With the damage done to your body, you knew you weren’t going to be physically fighting, so that left your mind. You didn’t know how much blood you had lost, but you knew it was going fast and your consciousness with it. The only way you got out of this was by doing something drastic. And you had.

Kalpas stayed with you overnight, not to see you wake up, but to be sure no one else tried to hurt you. The beds on either side of you were vacant, and nurses had to reason with him every time they came to check on you. Sakura was gone and you had nearly left him too. There was no way in hell he was letting you out of his sight.

“I’m just going—just gonna meditate! Let go! Of the door! You checked the five times! Kalpas! Shoo!” you were going back to meditate in your closet-of-a-room for the first time since the Herrscher attack. Needless to say, Kalpas was having none of it. Both his foot and his hand were wedged between the door and the wall. He wasn’t struggling at all, even with you pushing against the door with all your might.

Tired of your antics, the hand around the door suddenly pushed it all the way open, throwing you off balance and onto your butt. With that out of the way, Kalpas stepped over your legs and into the room before closing the door behind him.

“I’m staying here.”

“You are not carrying me around again.”

“No. I just said I’m staying here.”

“Fine,” you huffed. That had been happening a lot, he noticed. Since the attack, your smile was still there, but it was quick to leave. “Can you open the door? None of the candles are lit and I can’t see.”

“You can’t see when your eyes are closed anyway.”

“Yeah, but I like the candles,” you carefully pulled yourself to a comfortable sitting position. Instead of opening the door, Kalpas simply set his hand aflame and lit the candles himself. “Handy.” Seeing you smile again made him like things were okay, even if he only gave a grumpy mumble in return.

Both of you settled down on the floor, Kalpas sitting next to the door, facing you. Sending him another small smile, you relaxed and closed your eyes. Measured breaths came next, and everything started to melt and fall away, then it reformed, and you were fully inside your mind.

Usually, you would be greeted by the thoughts that were nagging you at the time, but lately, it had just been Kalpas. Seeing him standing there, clearly wanting to be anywhere else made you laugh a little, but it also made you think. With how long he’d been showing up for, you couldn’t lie anymore.

Calling it a crush felt silly, you weren’t in grade school, but that’s exactly what it was. Mind-Kalpas in front of you rolled his eyes when you took to long to walk over to him and closed the gap himself.

“We’ve got shit to do, hurry up.” He grabbed your hand and started pulling you into the hedge maze the made up your thoughts. You knew you’d be faced with questions to sort out, but you had one already that had been bothering you for a while.

“You always hold my hand, but you wouldn’t actually do that, would you?”

Kalpas kept walking, but his hand got warmer. For most people that would mean they were nervous maybe, or just naturally warm, but for Kalpas that meant he was getting frustrated, and you knew you needed to speak carefully if you wanted to continue holding his hand.

“How the hell would you know? You still haven’t asked me out,” he growled while taking a sharp turn and roughly pulling on your arm.

“I didn’t know I was supposed to,” you laughed. Kalpas stopped in his tracks, and you ran straight into him.

“You didn’t—” he angrily brought a hand up to his mask and groaned. “You think I’m here because I want to be? I’m here because you have a stupid crush that should’ve been sorted out months ago.”

“I didn’t even know you months ago—” His hands were very toasty now, making your own sweat, but his grip was tight as always as he pulled you back to the entrance of the maze.

“Go.”

“What-?”

“Go ask him or I’m not letting you in.”

“You can’t keep me out of my own mind.” You laughed, but you knew that if a certain thought or emotion was bothering you, it would be very difficult to enter your mind and resolve other issues first. When you only received a burning glare, you knew he knew, and gave up.

Back in your crowded room, Kalpas was still right ahead, knee almost brushing your own, and you gave a quiet sigh before smiling. Not having really sorted through your thoughts, you didn’t feel refreshed like you normally did, if anything, you were more stressed than when you had gone in.

“What? Can’t sleep?”

“It’s not sleeping,” you laughed a little, even though Kalpas hadn’t meant it as a joke. “I have a question for you.” He tilted his head back to rest against the wall and gave a grunt as a sign for you to go on. “Would you be interested in going on a date?”

“A what?”

“A date?” That’s what you had said, right? Had you misspoken? What was he so confused about?

“What are you talking about?”

“You know, when you go out with someone you’re interested in?” Silence. “In this case, interested in pursuing a romantic relationship?” Explaining it made you cringe internally, but it was clear he wasn’t getting it and you didn’t know how else to describe what you were asking.

“Why would I want a romantic relationship?”

“You could’ve just said no,” you smiled at him. It hurt, knowing he wasn’t interested, but the whole situation was so odd, you couldn’t help but laugh a little to yourself.

“That idiot, Kevin has one of those. Why would I want one?”

“What?” Now you were confused.

“A relationship. That’s what he has with Dr. Mei. And he acts like an idiot for it. I’m not gonna follow you around all day,” Kalpas scoffed, and you had to cover your mouth to stop the full-on laugh in your chest.

“Kalpas,” you spoke once you had calmed down a little, but your grin was still very present. “You do follow me around already.”

“No—”

“You’re in my room watching me sit here for three hours! Watching paint dry would be more productive!”

“I’m keeping you safe,” his voice was low, but there was no real heat it. “He’s not keeping her safe, he’s just blindly doing whatever she says.”

“Dating doesn’t necessarily mean you have to do whatever your partner says, that’s just how they choose to work together.” This had gotten to be a much more involved conversation than you expected. A simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ would’ve been easier. “I don’t want you to wait on me hand and foot, I just want to hold your hand,” your regular gentle smile was back in place as you did your best to explain.

“You could’ve just said that.” Kalpas held out his hand, palm up, and the moment yours was in his own, he pulled you, so you were against the same wall as him and pressed into his side in the cramped room. Your hand rested in his on top of his knee, and you had to say; holding his hand in real life was much better than in your imagination.

“Does that mean you’ll kiss me if I ask too?” It was half a joke, but you really did want to know.

“No.”

Well at least you knew. Closing your eyes, your smile dropped a little as you relaxed and took your first deep breath to focus.

“Maybe,” Kalpas grumbled, and his hand got a little warmer.

“I guess I’ll have to ask some time,” you squeezed his hand and took another deep breath. He squeezed back and you let the breath out (maybe a little more rushed than usual, but who’s to say). With another breath in, you closed your eyes and smiled as everything melted away.

In your mind, Kalpas was still there, still with his arms crossed, and still standing guard to your maze. “What the hell took you so long?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you linked arms with him as he mumbled a ‘whatever’ and started walking. “Just so you know,” you grinned to yourself, “you would hold my hand if I asked.”

And so the Kevin hate continues. I've said it before and I'll say it again, you can pry "Crisscross applesauce" out of my cold dead hands. Kalpas is that dog that jams his nose into the door when you're trying to close it. That's him. I don't make the rules, I just make them up and then write them down. Thank you thank you thank you so much for reading this!! I really hope you enjoyed it! I'm gonna go take a nap now…

Also, werewolf!Kalpas anon, wherever you are, Wolf Kalpas has just been a regular thought in my head ever since that story and I want to thank you. 100% a very dumb warm and protective good boy (tm). Maybe not a good boy, but you know what I mean

#kalpas x reader #azaryawrites #honkai x reader #tamalethebear #cross posted on ao3 #ok but next request should ACTUALLY be up on a monday #hopefully sooner to make up for how damn long I'm taking

[calronhunt]

Well I wanna know stuff about all of them SO for the COB Mains, with that ask thing: Numbers 4, 13 and 22!

4. Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know?

Funnily enough it's Mattias and Ava who fit this criteria and not the people who were raised to kill literal demons lol.

Mattias: So, I haven't gone super indepth into Mattias' father because Mattias overall had a very good childhood but he wasn't the best dude. not physically or even emotionally abusive to mattias when he was a kid, but he didn't really care about him. his mom and dad would get into arguments a lot of the time and he would often just pretend to not listen and play in his room. The day his dad walked out the argument was really really bad and Mattias snuck out of his room and saw the end of the fight. Mattias doesn't like to talk about it because he feels like he isn't allowed to be upset about it since a lot of people have a lot worse relationships with their dad then "he walked out one day" and it happened when he was a little little kid. Probably the only person he's opened up about that is Ava.

Ava: so this one is kinda the same as how ava was introduced to the shadow world, and i know i've said it a couple times, but her and a couple of her friends got attacked by vampires one day, and no one died, but a couple of them were very badly hurt before shadowhunters showed up and chased them off. And Ava being the only one who saw the vampires for what they really were and not being able to talk to anyone about it like. it's really fucked her up? she felt like she was going insane for a little bit? until she found the shadowhunters again and was taught about how the supernatural is real. Anyway seeing a lot of your friends bloodied from vampires and no one else saw them as vampires kinda fundamentally changed her.

13. Is your character bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way?

Theron: No, not at all.

Dominic: Not particularly, but he doesn't like especially gruesome scenes or even deep wounds

Mattias: YEAH. IT BOTHERS HIM. He was raised in normal society so having to learn to become okay with blood (both demon ichor and normal blood on people) has been a struggle.

Nerissa: also not at all. Same shit different day.

Ava: Kinda the same as Mattias, but like I answered in the question above, she was fundamentally changed because of how she was introduced to the shadow world. She's still a little icked out by blood, but having that kind of experience with vampires kinda. beats that out of you.

22. What does your character like in other people?

Theron: kindness, someone who will listen to his problems, affection

Dominic: Attention, give him what he wants, non-confrontational (Bonus points if you are a big hairy man)

Mattias: Gentle demeanor, someone who he can joke around with, someone who he can teach new things to.

Nerissa: she is literally the hardest one to figure out. She's so emotionally repressed. uhhhh fucking. she likes. people who will make the first move. i guess?

Ava: someone to joke around with, someone she can teasingly make fun of, literally just a normal fucking person which no one in COB can be.

#ask

[aka-indulgence]

Trans-universal Crimes (Very Bad, Needs Jail)

So a couple days ago I was feeling >:C and while I was simmering, I got the idea for a kinda domestic, silly Error/Reader scenario. Some comfort, tomfoolery, some implied big dramatic past with Error... yeh

Error/Reader(Gender neutral)

You come to Error’s anti-void angy and Error finds a way to calm you down -w-

---

He arranged the two dolls on his bed, a small you and for a doll of himself sitting against the pillow with their heads against each other.

“i love you error!” He says in a squeaky voice while waving your doll’s hand.

“aw i love you too baby,” He responds through his doll in a voice deeper than his usual one.

He makes the dolls kiss and gets into a giggling fit, the doll you giving his doll more kisses after that.

He almost throws them away out of instinct when he feels his device vibrating in his pocket. The dolls lay on his bed as he takes out his “”phone”” and sees your face on the screen.

“mmmneh,” He takes the dolls and stuffs them into the box with the rest of his dolls and puppets, making sure they’re hidden. Then he turns around, making sure his coat looks fine, then opens a glitched ‘doorway’ to you.

“hey-”

“Hi Error, how are you,” you say clipped, throwing down your bag down and walking past him.

Maybe someone else might feel nervous or annoyed at the response, but Error merely thought hm… bad day?

He turns around and sees you stomping towards the bed, jumping face down into it. You grab the pillow and start screaming into it.

Error glides towards you, perching on your side. He hesitates for a moment, but eventually he pats your back.

“do you wanna tell me what happened?”

“Mmmrfff….” you groan, turning over to face up. “Sorry for just barging in like this… can I hug you?”

“of course.”

Even though you were clearly in a bad mood, Error still enjoyed the feeling of your arms around him. Even after all this time being with you, it still baffles him how he can feel not only comfortable, but happy to be touching you.

You put your head against his shoulder and let out a long sigh.

“... Ok so,” you start, “I was at work right, and…”

“... And then he!!! And I was trying to!!! But no, he didn’t want to hear it and he just left and I just wanna!”

You pull your hands away to grab the pillow again, punching it. In that moment Error was glad he didn’t decide to hide the dolls there, or he’d feel pretty sad for them.

You were… screeching? Squealing? … Squearching…?

“I wanna tear someone’s head off!” You barked, ‘strangling’ the pillow now.

“ba… babe,”

“I just wanna…. URGH!!!!” you pummel the pillow.

“sweetheart,”

pof pof pof.

“my darling my dear, love of my life,”

“Yes?!”

…. If you were a monster, Error doesn’t doubt he’d see red eyes looking at him right now. Your cheeks were flushed a different kind of red, he could see your eyes were tearing up a bit, and he sure doesn’t see a glower on your face often.

He doesn’t judge, of course. In the past when he got angry…

Well, in comparison wanting to decapitate someone was very light. And of course he knows that when you say something like that you’re not serious.

All those times in the past when he thought you were serious and offered to kill for you, to be met with very aggressive “NO”s…

“uh. you wanna mess with one of my alternate selves?”

“I- ……… what?”

Your instant deflation assures him that he’s doing the right thing, but also, he feels very flustered trying to calm you down.

“me. sanses. do you wanna see a small prank?”

Error isn’t… very good at talking out problems. Not yet, at least. He did his best already, listening to you, agreeing that the guy from work was an absolute dickhead, offering… shaky words of comfort (he needed to work on that more).

“i mean… since there’s nothing else we can do right now,”

“Yeah. I wish I could punch that asshole. But I don’t think teleporting in his house and beating him up is gonna be a great idea in hindsight.”

He could totally pretend to be a ghost and “haunt” the prick, but for you, he won’t.

“so why don’t you take it out on something less… murdery?”

“...” You stare at him. Error almost backpedals at the silence, but, “I can’t believe you out of all people are telling me to be less murdery. Who are you and what did you do to Error?”

“heh… you’re just rubbing off on me.” He gives your cheek a peck, before taking your hand and guiding you to the sofa bean bag.

As you both sink into it, Error could already see an improvement in your mood.

“Um… why are we sitting here again? I thought you said you wanted to prank someone, not watch ‘TV’.”

“no, we’re not watching undernovela,” as much as he wanted to, now that you mentioned it. “but when you can open portals to other universes anywhere you want, you don’t even have to move, and just… just watch.”

You’re not sure what Error even does when he opens these ‘windows’. How does the antivoid know when to disintegrate through glitches? Does he wave his hands like glitch-magic? Really feels like a very expensive HD TV when it stretches out in front of you, with amazing 3D. Even though.. that’s because you’re literally looking at another universe through the portal.

Even though your boyfriend’s Error Sans, angry glitchy outlier of the multiverse, you… don’t really know much about other universes. You only really knew the anti void and whatever universe Error liked watching, like… what’s it called… Outertale..? The one with a lot of stars.

You didn’t recognize the universe that opened up to you. For the most part it looks familiar, modern day. You don’t know what you’re looking at right now, looks like a living room? Red carpet, black sofa. A familiar joke book on the cushions.

You hear some rustling from a different room.

“darlin’ where d’ya want me to put the…? ok.”

More rustling.

Then from the doorway, a skeleton that you have recognized to be “A Sans” walks in, carrying a paper bag with oil stains on it, moving to slump into the sofa.

… He looks bigger than the Sanses you’ve seen. He was built… solid. Wide shoulders. More eye catching than that, he had a gold tooth. No wait- he had shark-like teeth? His eyelights were red pinpricks, and his clothing was…. edgy. Black, red and gold. Red sweater, black hoodie with fluff on the hood.

“He looks edgy as fuck.”

“HAH!” Error slaps his knee. “babe, you don’t know the half of it.”

“What’s this one called?”

“underfell.” He swings an arm to rest on the beanbag behind you. “but i also like to call this the edgeverse. a lot of monsters wear those colors. basically imagine if they were all part of biker gangs.”

“No.”

“really.”

The… Underfell? Sans? Puts the bag between his legs, reaching in to grab a burger. It looks like delicious, greasy goodness. He reaches with his other hand and takes out some french fries, shoveling it into his mouth.

“gross.”

“...” You look at your very smug looking outcode boyfriend. “You do that.”

You want to laugh at him instantly dropping his grin.

“uh- hey look!”

You look back to the window and…

… Wow, you don’t know how Error is so non-chalant about it. You always have a weird… existential feeling whenever you see yourself in another universe. You’re coming in with two tall cups, putting them on the short table in front of the sofa. One of them seems to be holding your favorite drink.

The… other you sits down next to the Sans. He throws his arm over them, leaning back. You could see how more relaxed he is not that they’re there and…

You look back at your position with Error. You see that his arm had sunk further down, and is resting against your back now.

“m? what’s up?”

You look back at Error. In the past you had been terrified of him and his face, his crazy eyes, the streaks from his sockets. But now when he’s looking at you like this, slight concern in his voice… you can’t help but find him cute.

“No, it’s nothing, nevermind.”

Underfell you’s voice brings your attention back to the window. “Sans, I can’t find the remote.”

Man is it weird to hear your voice come from someone else…

“heh. i think yer hand’s not long enough to dig under here.”

And that Sans’ voice. It sounds uncannily similar to Error’s except a bit more rough and deeper.

He puts the burger on the sofa’s side (after putting it on top of some tissues), and digs his hand in between the cushions.

“heheheheheh…” Error then starts chuckling, “watch this.”

He reaches through the window and just- grabs the burger.

“Hey! What’re you doing?”

“shh shh, you have to look,”

Eventually, underfell Sans fishes the remote out.

“We really have to stop putting it on the sofa.”

“eh. i see it as a relatively safe container.” underfell Sans shrugs, turning the TV on.

Your other self reaches into the bag, taking out a similar looking burger. That’s when underfell Sans reaches beside him.

You and Error watch as he at first only pats around the tissue, clearly feeling the light crumbs on it. The patting only gets more frantic, and eventually underfell Sans turns to look at it.

Error was already quietly giggling to himself as he’s holding the burger (he kinda looks like a kid. It was cute), but when you see underfell Sans lean over the sofa arm and look with wide sockets, a laugh escapes you.

He looks… so confused…!

And when he looks back at the paper bag, shoving his hand in it with increase urgency, before putting his face in it- you couldn’t help but start giggling.

“What’s wrong?”

“m… my burger,”

Underfell Sans sounds distraught.

“What do you mean…?”

“did… is that,”

The other you looks mildly bewildered when Sans grabs their burger with a vigor, sniffing it and opening it up.

“Sans what’s going on,”

“no…. this is yours,” he says absentmindedly, handing it back to them.

“Sans. You didn’t,”

“it was there!”

“HAHAH!” you hold your stomach. “Error do you do this a lot? You look at a Sans and steal their food?”

“not all of them.” Error pauses. “i just like messing with this sans the most.”

“Did it fall?” underfell you asks. Sans sounds defeated as he stands up and looks around the sofa like a sad puppy.

“no…. it’s not here…”

“Next time, take it out when you’re about to eat it maybe?”

Error chuckles, looking at the burger with victory. “yeah, maybe you should.”

“Error, stop being mean,” you say, even while you’re smiling.

“you think this is mean? watch.”

You don’t think you’ve ever felt as emotionally attached as to when Error opened his mouth and moved the burger towards it.

“Error nooo!!”

“it’s just a bite, its fine.”

You grab Error’s arm, pulling it away.

“Noooo….. don’t… it’s his burger…” you try to give you the biggest doe eyes you can muster, even as you’re playing a bit of tug of war with his arm.

“it’s… fine… he won’t… mind!” he exclaims as he pulls his hand enough to take a bite.

“NOO!!” you look at underfell Sans. He’s still looking around the tables, probably thinking the burger fell down somewhere. He was completely oblivious to the tragedy that had occurred to his beloved burger.

You do however, manage to snatch the burger away from Error.

“hey!”

“He needs his burger!” you say. Even if you couldn’t save the whole thing, at least that Sans would have something to eat.

Right as underfell Sans sits down next to them, you put the burger back through the window.

“Oops,” the burger slips out of your hand and tumbles from the tissue against Sans’ arm. He must really be out of it, because he almost jumps out of the sofa when he felt it.

“what the fuck-”

Underfell Sans’ emphatic fuck gets you into another bout of laughter with Error.

“it- it has a bite on it?!”

Besides you, Error is bending over his knees, hitting the bean bag.

“D… did you eat it already?”

“no!!!”

You’re starting to run out of your breath as underfell Sans looks at the burger like an enigma.

“what the fuck….”

Underfell Sans’ brows were deep between his sockets, staring it for a couple of seconds.

Soon after that he just starts eating it, still with a look of puzzlement, and a little bit of aggression as he bites into it.

You look at Error. He turns to you, smiling wide, innocently.

“what?”

“Error… stop stealing his food!” you give him a playful shove, and he puts a hand against his chest in mock offense.

“c’mon, you’re smiling!”

You don’t try to stop it of course, but you still pat his cheek at his teasing.

You hear the other you’s talk to their Sans. “It’s ok, I can get you another one the next time.”

They have to stretch a bit, but they give Sans a peck on the cheek. He lifts a hand- apparently holding their’s, pressing it against his cheek.

… This is really putting you in a cuddly mood. So you mirror them, and lean to give Error a kiss.

“Thanks for doing this for me, Error.”

You could see glitches flashing over his sockets. You know they’re good ones by the blush over his cheekbones.

“n.. n-no problem.” he mutters, rubbing his cheek. His smile seems ‘fresher’ somehow, brighter.

He leans his skull against your shoulder.

“do you wanna try messing with him more?” Error asks.

You look at the couple. You don’t know what they’re watching, but it looks like a romance movie had started playing.

You look at the Sans. It’d be really funny if you placed something in his hood…

“Nah.” you answer. “Those burgers are making me hungry, lets get something to eat.”

#error!sans #error x reader #sansxreader #tags hard help #aka writing #fluff

[buckybarnesdiaries]

a piece of cake

© @jamesbrnes

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Something happens at Shuri's birthday party that leads to a heated fight.

word count: 3k words. (fuck, it worth every damn word)

warnings/tags: nsfw, +18!!! angry jealous sex, let's start there. unprotected sex, oral sex (face fucking and ridding), fingering, brief daddy!kink, brief praise!kink, language, cursing, handcuffing, mention of bodily fluids, and probably i'm forgetting something else, i just lost my mind. bucky being the cutest and loving man on earth at the end.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

join the tag list here.

You had never been so quiet, but you knew that opening your mouth only could cause a storm inside the car, on your way back home. Believing you could have a pinch of luck, Bucky wouldn't notice that something was raving you mad since the moment you watched him letting another woman give him a spoon of cake. Straight to his mouth. You almost choked on your drink, talking to Shuri about how excited she was to celebrate her birthday in New York, when you witnessed the scene hearing their laughs and watching how they dared to touch his metal arm constantly. Your boyfriend was talking with some of his old friends from Wakanda, not even knowing he made friends there. He never said a word about it. Even so, they didn't have the right to flirt with him. Unless he didn't say anything about you.

But Bucky wasn't stupid. Or at least, not like you thought. Gazing you by the corners of his blue eyes, he was conscious that something was going wrong. He licked his upper lip briefly, slowly. He tasted the waters putting a hand on your thigh, which was your favorite gesture while he was driving, deriving with your fingers laced and him placing kisses on the back of your hand. But you didn't move an inch, still staring through the copilot's window with your elbow nailed there and your chin resting on your knuckles.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing”.

Your passive tone and the lie as a response caused him to frown, pulling over the car to focus on you. He turned on his seat and placed a hand behind the headrest of yours.

“Spit it”.

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow ironically, looking at him for a second. If he had to ask it was because he wasn't really seeing the dilemma there.

“I'm just tired and I wanna go home, James. That's all”.

James. James. You did it unconsciously, but he didn't take it as an innocent manner of calling him. Unexpressive, the soldier joined the highway driving faster than he used to. You had pissed him off, but it wasn't your problem. He had hurt your feelings with something he didn't give any importance to. The only thing you wanted was to take a shower, put on your comfier pajamas and go to sleep, probably you'd see tomorrow that situation differently than today and you could move on from your insecurities and the jealousy running through your veins.

You arrived at your apartment in record time, keeping the car inside the parking under the building. You removed the seat belt to wear your leather jacket and grab your purse on your feet, stepping out when you were ready. But Bucky stayed inside, just turning off the engine. He didn't have any intention of leaving it, maintaining his hands tightly gripped around the wheel. You ignored him as soon as you couldn't pretend you were just tired anymore. It was the first time something like that happened and you were having a strong desire to throw your guts up.

Three minutes later you were under the warm water with your forehead resting against the cold wall and your eyes closed. Maybe you were overreacting and the rational, mature behavior would be to go to talk with him, tell your boyfriend what made you feel upset. Sighing as you nodded two times, determined to put the cards on the table, you shut off the faucet and walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

“Oh, fucking hell!” You growled because of the scare of your life when you found Bucky already in your shared room.

He had his back supported on the wall, a leg flexed, and his hands behind himself. No expression on his face, but expecting an explanation from you. You were hoping for something from him too, maybe I don't know what I've done to make you feel like that, can you give me a clue? He just stared at you in silence, drying the pearls of water decorating your body before wearing a pair of black panties and your forgotten pajamas instead of one of his t-shirts impregnated on his scent.

“Com'ere”. Bucky whispered, stretching his flesh hand on air when you were about to go to sleep.

“No”.

Well, that wasn't the proper way to talk like grown adults. You crossed both arms on your chest, standing next to your side of the bed.

“What'd you say?” He squinted incredulous, slowly standing from the wall, pretending you hadn't uttered that word.

“I said no, you fucking punk”.

“The hell d'you think you're talking to, darling?”

“To the cretin who let other women flirt and touch him”. You replied with evident annoyance. “Why don't you go to show them your daddy's skills, uh? Sure I can find someone who respects me in the meantime”.

Suddenly, a grimace you hadn't seen before on him appeared like a thunderbolt. You weren't sure if you just made him feel more furious or if you just broke his heart. But before you could figure it out, Bucky shorted the distance between both in two fast strides and his hands gripped your throat and the back of your neck respectively, pinning you to the closest wall and tossing the lamp on your nightstand to the floor. You complained slightly —with his tongue wildly invading your mouth— because of the strength he used to put you against the wall.

You tried to push him away, to not fall into his charmings, but he made your mind blank when his fingers were firmly nailed in your ass and his body was accommodated between your legs. Your fiery provoked a bulge under his pants so painful that in every rock against your core he wasn't sure if it hurt or if it was some kind of pleasure he couldn't handle. Out of breath, Bucky attacked your neck, digging his teeth in your neck with so much passion that you screamed delighted his full name while pulling his hair. That gesture drove him insane, losing the less sanity he had at that point. With just a push, your boyfriend ripped off your shirt to strip you, in anticipation of your panties suffering the same fate.

Bucky threw you to the mattress on your abdomen, perfectly positioned to what was about to happen. He was so eager, so desperate for showing you what he was feeling that he didn't lose time taking off his clothes, just undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans to pull them down to his ankles along his boxers. You heard him spitting in his hand to use it as lube, although you were sufficiently soaked and ready for your Buck that neither of you needed his saliva. He rammed his dolorous erection into your cunt, crashing his pelvis and pressing it against your ass with all his strength, causing you to drown a loud cry in the sheets.

Tangling his fingers with yours and lacing your arms around your neck, putting all his weight onto your back, Bucky pounded you with an insanely quick rhythm, not giving you any chance to mold your throbbing walls around his length. Your pleased vocals echoed inside your room in total sync with the hits to your g-spot. Your body received with every one of them soft cramps mixed with pain and pleasure, making you roll your eyes and tear your throat.

“'S that wh— what you wanted, uh?” Bucky snarled against the back of your neck, totally gone, not giving you a break or showing any mercy.

“Fuck, no…” You replied, challenging him.

He swallowed a rough moan, wrapping his cold fingers around your throat while using the other to pull back your hair and arch your body. “Don' fucking… lie to me, doll… You wan— wanted your daddy to make you… feel desired over tho— those women”.

And yes, he was right. More or less. But you didn't expect him to react like that. Bucky was rabidly fucking you, moving the bed from its position with every angry thrust into your pussy. You knew you weren't going to last for too long if he continued impaling you against the mattress, just like that. But you both had to recognize that it was the best session of sex of your life.

“You were… fucking mad watch— watching 'em touch my arm… your arm, right?”

You whined at the brutality he used to push his hard cock beyond your limits, holding it there as he tilted your head to crash his lips on yours. Bucky devoured them until they were shiny, swollen, slightly ached because of the bit he left on your bottom one.

“If you don't tell me… the truth… I swear I'm not gonna let you come”. The whisper fell into your ear with such a raspy tone of voice, conscious of him being very capable.

“It was… your fucking fault, James. Not… Not mine”. You grunted, feeling him going a little deeper. “I di— didn't let anybody flirt with me… as if you didn't exist”.

That was the truth, but the wrong answer for him. Suddenly, Bucky pulled out his dick covered in your arousal, freeing you from any grip. A pause that only lasted the time he took to grab the handcuffs from your nightstand to place them in your wrists and secure them around the headboard. Now you were under his total control, defying him by strongly closing your legs and frowning at him, panting and sweating.

“Lemme tell you something”. Your boyfriend said, dangerously crawling over the bed till reaching your knees and forcing them to be separated, wide spread for him. “If you think I was flirting, but you didn't see… how uncomfortable I was… This situation is not my fault”.

The tables were turned as he finished his sentence, settling himself between your legs yet kneeling to raise your ass above his lap. “Not so mouthy now, are you, doll?”

You wanted to speak back, to say something after having a second to reconsider the reason why you were so angrier at him when Bucky pushed you down and rammed his dick back to the place it belonged. You forced unconsciously your hands gripped, wanting to put them on him —wherever—. As soon as he handcuffed you, your desire for touching him used to be suffocating. But you were the one who played from the start, instead of telling him how you were feeling about that situation at Shuri's party.

Bucky didn't even let you kiss him, stabilizing you on top with an arm around your waist and his cold hand holding the back of your head. His hips rocked straight to your g-spot once and once, making you lose any kind of control over your body as your boyfriend didn't have any compassion, needing to find relief to his sorrowful erection by cumming inside your clenching walls. You were driving him crazy, maintaining your eye contact at all moments and almost drinking your delighted, obscene crying, aware that only him could cause you to be so dirty.

“Feels good, uh…? You like it?” Your boyfriend brushed your lips with his, depriving you of his kisses or any other touch. “Bec— 'cause you take your daddy... so damn good, baby girl… So tight… so tight you could kill me”.

“Yes, da— daddy”. You whimpered nodding your head. “Only you… can fuck me li— like that… Only you”.

“That's it… that's it, oh, fuck… fuck, doll”.

You saw him roll that pair of beautiful blue eyes to the back of his head, feeling Bucky's thighs tensing under your legs. You didn't want anything else than making him cum, after overthinking about how he felt, and not about what you witnessed. He was right, more or less. He was still being so innocent in those kinds of situations that he used to feel like a scared kid.

You suddenly fell back to reality when the emptiness sensation invaded you. Bucky pulled out his length from you again, causing you to beg in silence for not denying you the orgasm you were about to reach. But he warned you. Bucky asked you to tell him the truth and you chose to challenge him. Letting you sit on the mattress, he flexed a leg to guide his twitching cock to your mouth, not needing to tell you what he wanted you to do. You just parted your lips, receiving him without protesting, curling your fingers when he forced your limits, and positioned both hands on your head. Twirling your tongue around his base as you could, with your cavity completely invaded, Bucky provoked you a strong gag. A gesture that led to his warm seed being spilled down your throat.

“Fuck my life, baby girl!” He couldn't help but howl driven by the pleasure as you coughed and made vibrate his sensitive skin.

Just holding his dick trapped by your lips for a second, he freed your mouth, taking his time to admire you swallowing his cum and showing afterward your tongue. God, you looked so beautiful disheveled, with teary eyes and swollen lips because of the effort.

“Want me to tell you something else?” Bucky asked while cleaning the sweat in his forehead with the back of his arm, taking the small key to liberating you with his free hand.

You didn't reply, not needing to, as he rubbed your wrists to comfort your skin before lying by your side.

“Com'ere”. He whispered, yet trying to recover your breathings. Bucky wrapped you with his flesh arm, rubbing his iron fingers up and down your tense belly, creating a contrast that caused you goosebumps. “'M so sorry for making you feel like that”.

He kissed you. Slowly, passionate, tasting his own juices mixed with your saliva. Caressing your tongue with the tip of his, and no rush. You felt his digits touring down your skin, till finding your throbbing and needed clit. You weren't able to hold back a sweet moan when he circled his fingertip over your sensible pearl, gladly drinking your vocals.

“When I wanted to react… she was putting that damn spoon into my mouth. It felt horrible, doll, I promise”. He murmured, venturing his long cold finger to part your folds and sink it inside you —moaning at the fulfill sensation—. “You always save me from those awkward situations… but you were having fun with Shuri and I didn't want to interrupt you”.

You were feeling like shit, looking at him through your eyelids as he curved a second finger into your cunt and increased the pace of the pounds with his hand made of vibranium. Bucky spread some gentle kisses all around your face, ending with a tender bite to your lips.

“When you told me you wanted to go home, I felt a huge relief… 'Cause that was everything I wanted. Go home with you. Maybe watch a movie… cuddle… fall asleep on the sofa”.

“Oh, God, Bucky”. You wept onto his mouth, as soon as a third finger filled you, nailing his hand in the perfect position to be moved up and down. “I'm so— sorry, Buck… I'm sorry”.

“Fuck, no”. He let out, thrusting you harder, faster, creating a melody of filthy sloppy sounds while your moans were louder and louder. “I should stop 'em, I didn't… I didn't. But I respect you more than anything, doll… I love you with all my heart. I care 'bout you, 'bout your feelings… Can you forgive me? Can you… Can you cum for me?”

You nodded your head running out of words, seeing your boyfriend snaking his body down the bed to between your shaky legs, yet having his fingers knuckles deep inside you. “Keep 'em open for your man”.

The blow to your abused cunt provoked you a lash up to your backbone, landing your hands on his head as Bucky sank his face straight to your center. His digits fucked you savagely, while his tongue took control of your swollen pearl —sucking, licking, kissing, pulling it back—. He wasn't going to deny that pleasure to you, quite the opposite. You pressed unconsciously his face a little closer to your pussy, swinging your hips and riding his mouth when his caresses and his pushes became too much for you.

Bucky made you cum harder than ever, crying his name till you didn't have any strength and you were just a sack of bones under his expert mouth, devouring you and drinking your juices as if it was the elixir of life. And when he was satiated, you glanced at him using the tip of his tongue to trail a path up crossing your abdomen, the gap between your breasts, your throat, until kissing you again getting comfortable on top of you. It was a kiss full of love, and guiltiness, and necessity, and pure devotion for you.

“Did I hurt you with what I said?” You murmured, still enraptured by the fireworks fluttering within your belly.

“This isn't 'bout me”. Bucky clicked his tongue, hiding his face into your sweaty neck. “This is 'bout what I let happen”.

“That doesn't answer my question, Buck… I'm sorry about what I said. I was just… I feel insecure". You confessed stroking his scalp and back with your hands, lacing your legs together. “I didn't mean it. I would never try to… find someone who respects me more than you do. That's impossible. And not talking about how much you love me”.

“I love you with every inch of myself”. He swore, he promised, raising his face to look straight at your eyes. “I can't imagine a life without you”.

“Me either… Your love makes me feel alive”.

Bucky left one last tender kiss on your lips before suddenly standing up and holding you onto his arms to carry you to the bathroom and take a shower together —wash your hair, worship your body again as if it was the last thing he was going to do—.

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader

[scarlettriot]

Stood Up

Pairing: Sero/F!Reader

Summary: When you find your dating making out with someone else at a Halloween party, Hanta swoops in and reclaims your evening, rekindling an old flame.

Contains: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Demisexual Reader, Astronomy/Greek Lore Nerd Sero, Old flame

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Demi Problems, Praise/Smidge of Degradation, Name-calling (slut & whore), Pet names (Love, good girl, pretty girl), Car Sex, F Masturbation, Oral M Receiving (Road Head) I think that's everything

A/N: This took me much longer than I expected. It's also my first time writing Sero. Given the season, I decided to add a touch of Halloween and costumes to this one.

If you'd like to read other's in the Stood Up series, here are the links:

Stood Up - Bakugo - WC 3,502

Stood Up - Kirishima - WC 3,612

Stood Up - Kaminari - WC 2,461

Word Count Starting Below: 3,494

Denki Kaminari's annual Halloween bash was in full swing by the time Hanta had arrived. He'd come straight from patrol, wrapping himself up in his own tape making a half assed mummy costume for himself. Not like anyone would notice with the flashing colored lights, loud music, and abundance of liquor.

However, Hanta didn't even make it up to the double glass front doors of Denki's home. Not before doing a double take at the very familiar pirate that ran by him.

"Y/N?" You stopped allowing him the chance to catch up to you, "Holy shit, it is you, when the hell did you get back?"

Three years you'd been gone, working in America. Time differences and busy schedules made it so the two of you barely kept in touch. It was a shame, Hanta thought, considering how close the two of you used to be.

"I- uh- just a few weeks now. I heard you were helping out with the disaster relief after that storm."

It had to be his eyes playing tricks on him, the funny colors of the dancing lights were what made your cheeks look wet, right? Those couldn't have been tears.

"I was, yeah, but I got back yesterday. I didn't know-"

"Get the hell outta here!" His head snapped back towards the front of the house, just in time to see Eijiro, dressed in an impressive werewolf costume, literally throw someone out of the party. The guy drunkenly stumbled off, Eijiro walking over towards where Hanta was standing with you. "Y/N, you good?"

You nodded while Hanta tried to piece together what'd happened. "Sorry, it took me a second to find the bastard. Do ya wanna come back in? I'll make sure he leaves."

"No, Eijiro, thanks though. I'm just gonna head home."

The wolfman frowned but understood. "We'll have a smaller party for ya! Just the gang as a welcome home! You know Denki will look for any excuse to throw a party." He turned his gaze on Hanta. "A mummy, really?"

"You've been a damn werewolf for the last two years! You don't get to give me crap."

Eijiro poked the fuzzy pointed red ears carefully set into his spiky hair. "Mina and I worked real hard on this costume... seemed like a waste to only wear it once."

"We both know you haven't just worn those once, big man."

That got a chuckle out of you while all Eijiro could do was shrug and try to hide a shit-eating grin.

He asked you again if you'd like to stay and once more you said you were going to just head home. It was when you specifically said you were going to be walking home that Hanta spoke up offering to drive you back to your home since it was Halloween and people were creeps.

You were a damn pro hero but he still didn't feel right about just letting you walk home alone.

When you agreed he told Eijiro he'd be back soon and walked over with you to his car.

>>><<<

A part of you missed the old station wagon Hanta used to drive, not that this BMW he now drove wasn't absolutely amazing, you just sort of missed the comfort of the old car.

He waited until he'd reached the end of Denki's long, winding driveway to finally speak. "So, you wanna tell me what happened back there, or am I just supposed to pretend like Kiri didn't kick someone out on your behalf?"

"You could probably just ask Kiri and he'd tell you."

"I could, but, I'd like to hear it from you."

You knew you could tell him, there was nothing you couldn't tell Hanta. There was once a time when the man knew every single detail about your life. Sure, time and distance had put a strain on that relationship but you were back now. There was no reason why you couldn't at least start rebuilding what you and Hanta once had.

"Y/N, if you don't wanna say anything-"

"I was just casually seeing this guy. You know me and dating, how we don't always work out." You said abruptly and he quit talking, "And so, we weren't like official but we said we'd go to this party together. Well, I got here and went looking for him and found him making out with one of Hawks' sidekicks. I got a little upset when he noticed me and, well, he just said he found someone better."

Hanta actually stopped the car, pulled off to the side of the road, threw it in park, and looked right at you because he knew what found someone better meant exactly. You'd used those words in high school when that guy from Shiketsu that you'd been seeing got pissed off that you wouldn't put out and ended it with you. You went to his dorm crying because he 'found someone better', is what you told him. It took him a few hours to get the truth out of you.

You'd always been the kind of person to love with your entire heart but sexually, you'd confessed that you felt different from all the other kids your age back then. Not having the same urges and desires that everyone else seemed stricken with.

"Hanta, it's fine, really. Kiri heard the whole thing and, well, you saw what happened."

"Doesn't make it right! So, you went on a couple dates with a guy, that doesn't mean he just gets to expect you to put out for him! Even if you weren't demi, no one gets to just assume they deserve sex."

His lips were pressed in a narrow line, nostrils flared once in annoyance. He was usually so calm and laid back that you thought it rather cute when he got overprotective. "It's alright, Hants, really."

He still gave you a look that said he disagreed but then shook his head, dropping the subject for now at least.

"Still like those late-night drives?"

"I love them."

"Good."

Hanta waited for a car to pass and whipped the car in the other direction.

It wasn't long before he had the windows rolled down, conversations filling in the blanks of lost time, in between belting out choruses of your favorite songs. Minutes slipped by the further he drove, you lost track of both time and kilometers, letting him tell you all about the ridiculous antics the group had been up to.

Eventually, you caught the scent of salty air and even in the dark, you had a pretty good idea where Hanta was going. He followed a winding road, making two left turns and then a right leaving you on a stretch of road that paralleled the ocean.

You let your head fall against the seat, eyes falling shut and inhaling that wonderful smell you missed so much. Hanta had just one hand lazily on the wheel, his elbow resting out the open window, a relaxed smile was illuminated in soft orange lights off his dash.

You let your head roll onto his shoulder, not as easily done without the bench seat in his station wagon but it worked nonetheless. "Thanks."

His free hand came to rest on your knee, "Anytime."

He turned the wheel, pulling over and parking in front of a small beach access that you guys had found at 3 in the morning five years prior. Hanta kicked off his shoes, leaving them in the car to avoid them being sand-filled and you did the same with the knee-high boots purely because you longed to feel the sand between your toes.

The wooden planks were worn, parts buried beneath the sand until eventually, none remained. Breaking waves flooded your ears and you made a run for them! Before you could reach the lapping water though, tape had wound around your middle and yanked you backward.

"Not happening!" Hanta said firmly. "Last time I let you talk me into late-night swimming we didn't have a change of clothes either and we both got so sick! I think I might have actually died without Bakugo's soup!"

You chuckled, remembering being nineteen and curled up with Hanta on the sofa in the living room of the apartment you all shared for nearly a week. The sniffles didn't cease for almost three weeks.

"Okay, okay, no swimming." You flopped back down into the sand, his tape still attached meaning the cellophane hero was pulled down with you. "Tell me about the stars then, Hants. Who's out tonight?"

Astronomy was a hobby of Hanta's you learned about after moving into the dorms your first year. It wasn't uncommon to find him out on the roof most nights, laying on his back and looking up into the clear night sky littered with twinkling stars, usually with a joint pressed between his lips. It became almost a habit for him to grab you on his way up, pulling you along because you were more than happy listening to him tell you about each constellation and the stories behind them.

It was around this time of year, in your final year of high school; somewhere between him recalling the greek mythos of Aries and Sagittarius that you noticed your heart beating a little faster. You realized something had shifted between the two of you, and, holy shit, was this what it felt like to have a crush! When the hell did that happen?

You'd entrusted everything to Hanta back then, and now, laying in the sand shoulder to shoulder while he talked about Draco, that familiar feeling stirred again. You remembered what it was supposed to be like when you weren't forcing it for some random guy. How simple it was supposed to be.

You inclined on an elbow and he stopped mid-sentence. "Eh, everything alright?" You nodded but he looked anything but convinced, mirroring your position and asking you again.

It was easy for you to lean forward, to brush your lips against his for the first time in three years. And, when you pulled away, he looked about as shocked as he had the night you'd done it when you were eighteen.

"You- you still like me?"

When you left for America, you'd both agreed to put a pause on your sort of relationship. Free to date and screw whomever you pleased because three years was a long time and it just seemed like a fair decision to make. The realization that he might now have someone else special in his life dawned on you...

"Yeah but I totally understand if things are different now and I shoulda asked- oof!"

He kissed you so hard you toppled back into the sand, quick pecks, one right after another, ending them with a long one that nearly left you breathless.

"I didn't know how to bring it up. I didn't want to make you feel awkward about things or make you think I expected something. I thought that maybe since we didn't talk for a while your feelings might have changed."

"I can say with confidence they haven't."

"Thank fuck." He groaned and captured your lips in another searing kiss.

It was easy to lift his shirt off, the shreds of tape that remained were now covered with gritty sand that clung to your fingers as you traced the chest and torso you knew so well. Gliding over defined muscles, lingering on old scars and mapping out new ones he'd collected in your time apart.

His own hands were busy flicking open the brass fastenings of your corset, huffing about it being so much more difficult to get to your chest and something about it being very unfair.

By the time he'd undone the last one, bright headlights shown across the beach. "Shit."

Giggling ensued from the walkway and you both sighed, at least it wasn't the police or a hero patrol. Hanta gathered his shirt and ran back to his car with his hand in yours.

"I thought our days of being caught were over."

"At least it wasn't Mr. Aizawa this time."

A chill ran down your spine remembering the night and the lecture you'd received when your teacher had caught Hanta sneaking out of your room early one morning.

"So, uh, do you still plan on going to Denki's party?" You asked innocently enough but Hanta knew you far too well.

"I think I'm gonna miss it this year." His hand found a home on your upper thigh. "Apparently, you and I have a lot of catching up to do. Lost time to make up for and all that."

"Too bad you don't have that old station wagon anymore. If you did, we wouldn't have to wait to get back."

Dark eyes glanced over at you not so subtly parting your legs.

"I dunno. It's not too often I travel in the backseat of my own car but I've been told it's pretty roomy. Lots of legroom."

Your hand ran over your legs, dipping down to lightly brush your more sensitive parts, thankful you opted for the thin pair of black leggings rather than the dark skinny jeans. Your fingers danced again and this time you let a soft moan pass your lips. "Eyes on the road, Hants."

"That's a little hard to do when I've got you spread out in the passenger's seat." He grabbed your free hand and pressed it against the bulge in his pants. "You've got me distracted, filthy little woman."

You appreciated him testing the waters, a subtle way of checking if you liked those nicknames he used only in private with you, giving you a chance to protest if your likes had changed. They were one's that only felt right coming from him and you were eager to hear more.

Forgoing your own high, you leaned over the center console as best you could, undoing his belt first, followed quickly by his zipper letting his strained cock be free.

His grip tightened on your leg when you kissed the tip of him. "Just like old times, huh?"

A chuckle turned quickly into a moan, taking him in your mouth, pushing yourself further on his cock, fighting your gag reflex to get him down your throat. Hanta reclined his seat further, giving you more room to work with.

Your legs clenched tighter with every groan you pulled from him, wiggling your hips in the seat, letting a hand fall back between your own legs. There was an attempt of a moan around his cock when his fingers coiled in your hair. "Such a good slut. Keep fuckin' goin'." He let you continue at your own speed, needing to focus as best he could on the road rather than what you were doing but, damn, you were making that increasingly difficult.

He wasn't stopping you though. He rarely did. You'd sucked him off on countless drives before and only stopped when- "That's it." He lifted you off him by your hair at the same time he pulled off the road. There was a convenient turn-off, hidden by overgrown brush you noticed before he shut off the headlights.

Hanta took you by the chin, smearing drool. "Backseat, pretty girl." He reached into the glove box and pulled out a foil wrapper, "What do you say we test out that legroom?"

He wait to watch your smile grow wide before crawling into the back because he had to be the first to go if this had any chance of working. Once situated, pants under his thighs, he patted his lap for you to climb over.

You slid easily onto his lap, hands traveling up and over his shoulders, kissing hard while you rocked your hips against impossibly hard length.

There was so much comfort in the familiarity of him. It wasn't awkward to fall back into rhythm with Hanta, to remember that he loved the feeling of your nails dragging down his chest. And he was just as eager to get your shirt off, reach your breasts he'd missed so much, and get his tongue on your nipples.

Your head tipped backward, loving the pace he set, hips bouncing creating the perfect tug on your nipples between his teeth.

"Love, if I promise to buy you a new pair, can I rip these damn leggings? They're just so thin and-"

"Please." Your breathy moan had him smirking and with a single grunt the leggings were ruined, cool air from the vents had only a moment to touch your bare ass before Hanta's hands reclaimed it.

There was no way he hadn't felt your arousal before ripping your clothes off, you soaked through your panties and leggings, you knew that, but that didn't stop him from commenting on how soaked you were now on his fingers. "Want me inside you, whore? I think you do."

You nodded with a whimper and he slipped a finger in. "Hants, noo- I- I want your cock, please."

"You're gonna take my fingers like a good little slut first." You clenched at the words falling from his mouth. "So fuckin' tight you can barely take a finger. How'm I supposed to fit in here if you can even take a single finger? Need you to loosen up, alright." He pushed another finger in, scissoring the two inside you.

"This gonna make you cum? You need this bad, don't you? Tell me. Tell me how bad you need to cum."

"I want it. Please, please, I need it. I'm so close," You babbled and ripped the foil open with his teeth, rolling it with one hand on his cock. In an instant, his fingers had been replaced with this dick. Sticky fingers on your ass helping you ease down on him with a hiss.

"Fuck," Hanta let out a throaty chuckle, "You still fuckin' feel the absolute best." He dropped a kiss between your breasts, letting you adjust to his girth. "Perfect. Good girl. Such a fuckin' good little slut."

He wasn't about to last long. Not once you started bouncing up and down on him, your tits right in front of his face.

"Couldn't even wait for me to get you home, had to fucking tease me in the damn car." He held onto the fat of your ass, pulling you along him and slamming you down hard.

"Kinda pathetic how desperate you are. Fuck. Kinda hot too."

When the top of your head bumped the roof of the car, he scooted lower, trying to give you as much room to ride him however you pleased.

"What do you need? You wanna cum, don't you, pretty girl, what do you need?"

"Faster, faster please."

Hanta shifted even lower, making you grab onto the two headrests while he thrust his hips up into you at a rapid speed. His thumb on your clit was the additional stimulation you needed to fall over the edge. Nails clawing at the black leather as he continued to moan below you now chasing his own release.

You stayed poised above him, using every last bit of strength to stay upright until his mouth was rambling and his cock pulsed inside of you. Fingers bruising your skin before holding your pelvis snuggly against his.

He was bent in a way that looked entirely uncomfortable and yet he still smiled so widely. Reaching up to brush hair out of your eyes, "You okay?"

"Perfects, Hants. A little sore but I'm sure you are too." He moved off his lap, letting him slip out of you with a groan, "Is your neck gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine. Having you back, love, is more than worth a little bit of a neck cramp."

As he tied a knot in the condom, depositing it into a plastic bag he had tucked away under his seat, Hanta raised a brow, "Love, really, are you alright? Please, tell me if I hurt you at all."

"No! I'm good, why?"

"You're sitting silly."

You were sitting a little odd, perched on your knees rather than sitting on your ass because the leather was chilly and you told Hanta as much making him laugh. "Wait, I think I can help." He leaned back to the front of the car, flicking a button making it glow. Once he tucked himself back in his pants he hopped out of the car and you could see him rummaging in his trunk through the rear window.

"I keep forgetting to take this out from our camping trip a couple months ago. Guess it turned out to be a good thing." He laid the blanket down over the passenger's seat, declaring that should help a bit.

You wrapped the now toasty warm blanket around your bottom half while Hanta drove back towards the city, your head on his shoulder, his hand on your thigh.

"So, shopping tomorrow? I believe I owe you a pair of leggings..."

"It's a date."

#mha #mha smut #bnha #bnha smut #hanta sero #sero #sero smut #hanta sero smut #sero x reader #sero x y/n #hanta x y/n #hanta x reader #mha x y/n #mha x reader #smutober #kinktober 2021

[rafescoke]

Maybank ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Request: how about y/n is jj’s older sister and shes dating rafe but they keep it a secret bcs rafe is a dick he doesn’t want to be seen w a pogue. jj knows that his sister is dating rafe and he kinda hates rafe for keeping they relationship as a secret. then sarah threw a party n invited the pogues n they play truth or dare n a random kook dared rafe to sniff coke on some random girl’s belly n rafe accepted it without thinking abt what y/n thinks n they fight @rafeswh0ree

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Rafe would do anything to protect his title, even if it causes the girl he loves to stray away. 

Warnings: Pure angst, mentions of substance!

A/N: you know the drill. . . send requests! 

(Y/N) doesn’t want to remember the day her little brother found out about her relationship with a certain kook prince.

Being a year younger than (Y/N), it’s funny how he acts like a total older brother to her; always so protective, and not letting any boys touch her.

It was a Friday, and (Y/N) had sneaked out to meet Rafe by the beach. The night sky was almost perfect; the moon was illuminating them, and the waves were calming.

Rafe pressed a kiss against her lips, mumbling how much he loves her when the sound of a backpack hitting the soft sand startled them.

“What the fuck?”

(Y/N) scampered from Rafe, fixing her fallen top and running towards JJ who was already making his way back to his bike. His eyebrows were furrowed, his heart banging.

(Y/N) pulled his shoulder, “JJ, stop. It’s not what you think!”

“Wait, wait, what do you mean? Did he drown and you had to give him CPR?” He scoffed, prying his shoulders away and walking backward slowly. “This is so low of you, (Y/N). Fuck.”

JJ noticed that something was different with his sister a few months ago. The sneaky texts under the table, the sudden smile at her phone screen. . . he had thought of the actions as nothing more than (Y/N) contacting her friends.

And when he saw her in Figure 8 two weeks ago, in a fancy restaurant he works part-time in, she had told him that her new friend had brought her there.

As if she would ever have a kook friend.

Of course it wasn’t a kook friend. It was a kook boyfriend.

“JJ, please! Why are you like this?”

JJ turned his heels to look at (Y/N) properly. His nostrils were flaring, and his eyes were wild. Trying to contain his anger, “Your fucking boyfriend is a drug addict and I’m not letting you date someone who choked my friends before!”

He waited, and extended his hands. “It’s me or Rafe. Stay if you want to stay with him, and come with me if you want to come back home.”

“You’re crazy,” she whispered, letting a tear rolled down her cheeks. She thought of many scenarios where JJ will eventually find out about her and Rafe, but this wasn’t in her list.

“Me or Rafe.”

(Y/N) remembers exactly the way JJ walked away disappointedly, his head hanging low and his hands balled up in a fist.

It took her weeks to regain JJ’s trust and fix their relationship, and though JJ still hasn’t accepted Rafe, he’s okay. He’s quiet, sometimes seething at the boy, but he knows how much (Y/N) loves him.

“Hey,” Rafe smiles, placing a kiss directly on her cheeks. Her hot body from the scorching sun slowly tempers down, and she melts into his touch.

Pulling him close, she nestles into his chest. “Sarah’s having a party tonight.”

“Yeah? You’re coming?”

“We’re coming, Rafe,” she sighs. The sprinkling water from the fast motion of the boat hits her on her face, and she wipes them away before looking up to this handsome face.

She rubs her thumb against his cheeks, feeling him soften. “If I ask you something, can you not be mad?”

“Is this about letting everyone know about us?” He asks, his hands resting above her hips. He removes them and wraps his face, sighing.

(Y/N) bites her lips, already knowing the answer to her question. “Never mind.”

“We talked about this, (Y/N).”

“I know, so I’m not going to fight with you on this again,” she sits up straight, inching away from him. “I mean, after almost a year of dating, I think you’d—”

“You’re forcing this.”

“I’m not!” She stands up, groaning. “God, you’re starting a fight again!”

The silence between them grows again, both sulking and shouting in their heads. After a while, (Y/N) moves to the front deck of the boat and Rafe curses silently, knowing that the plan he had about strolling by the stream with the girl he loves is a failure.

But it’s not his fault, is it? He just can’t show her off. It’s bad enough that her brother’s aware of their relationship, and Rafe had to make sure that son of a bitch never opens his mouth to anyone.

“Hey, yo, JJ, got a minute?”

The blonde waiter grunted, eyeing Rafe with so much hatred before placing a cold mineral bottle on the table.

“Rafe, don’t cause any scene,” Topper warned, staring at the both of them. He could sense something was wrong, but he didn’t put this mind into it. He thought of it as nothing more than Rafe’s daily fights with the pogues.

JJ didn’t reply, not wanting to see his smug face what more to talk to him, but as he tried to return back to the kitchen, Rafe gripped his wrist tightly.

“Just a minute,” he smiled.

JJ quirked his head to the back of the kitchen where the workers usually smoke. Rafe nodded, letting go of his wrist, and whispered something to Topper.

“What do you want?” JJ asked once they were in the back alley, watching as Rafe lighted a cigarette and bringing the stick to his lips.

“How’s (Y/N)?”

“Isn’t that your problem?” The blonde boy scoffed, “Hey, man, look. I appreciate this family bonding activity you’re trying to have, but you’re no family. I care about (Y/N), and I’m in no way letting her be with you.”

What angered JJ more wasn’t the fact that he didn’t reply, but it was the superior look he plastered on his face. He felt the urge to slap and hurt him more than anything else.

“If there’s one thing we can agree on—” he said, blowing a puff of smoke. JJ inched backward, not wanting the smell of tobacco to linger on his uniform or he’ll be in trouble. “—is that we both care for her. I understand if you don’t want anyone else to know about me and (Y/N), and I hope it will stay that way.”

“You don’t want me to tell anyone else?”

“Yeah,” Rafe smiled. “It’s bad enough I have to pull you away in the middle of my lunch. Can’t afford to do that with more people.”

“Is it because you’re embarrassed to be seen with her?”

“Can you do that for me?” Rafe asked, ignoring his last question.

“Fuck you, Cameron.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Rafe laughed, patting his shoulder and watching as he flinched away. “I think I’ll see you around more than we both want to, Maybank.”

“Hey,” (Y/N) whispers, placing a hand against his shoulder. “What’s wrong? You’re in a daze.”

“You’re not mad at me anymore?” He asks, tilting his head up. That was quick, but he likes it. She can never be mad at him for more than 30 minutes.

She crosses her arms, “You want me to be mad at you?”

He shrugs and pulls her to his lap. “You’re hotter when you’re mad.”

. . .

If there’s one thing Rafe’s sure of, he hates parties when he will be the one to clean up the mess the next morning.

Ward and Rose are out for the weekend for their anniversary, and Wheezie is somewhere for a summer camp she has been begging Ward to go to.

Like always, Sarah Cameron takes this opportunity as a way to host the biggest party of the year, inviting all of her pogue friends and letting Rafe do the honor of inviting the kooks.

(Y/N) walks in with her best friend, having to pretend to not be so familiar with the whole house as if she’s not dating the son of Ward Cameron.

“Yo, this house is huge.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) agrees, walking towards the drinks area and grabbing boozes for her and her friend. “Hey, I’m going to see someone, can you wait for me down here?”

Before she can walk away, Sarah Cameron appears excitedly and pulls her into a tight hug. “(Y/N)! What a surprise! JJ’s outside, if you’re looking for him.”

“Trust me, I’m not looking for him,” she laughs, “Have you seen Rafe? I, um, I called him up before for some stuff.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s on the porch,” she replies, and before (Y/N) can make a move, she holds her tightly. “Be careful. He’s got the heaviest stuff with him.”

As if she doesn’t know that.

She smiles, muttering her thanks before heading towards the porch. It’s hard to pretend to not know who Rafe is after spending her whole year with him.

Sure enough, Rafe is sitting by Topper’s side with his other friends surrounding them, his hair messily parted and his nose red. She sighs, knowing exactly what state he’s in.

“Yo, Maybank,” Topper laughs, pulling the empty seat beside him. “Come sit.”

Rafe looks up to the sound of her name, and before she can register the look on his face, he bows down again.

“Hey,” she greets, sitting beside Topper. “You’re okay?”

“This party’s the shit,” he answers, obviously in a drunken state, and pats Rafe’s back. “Yo, yo, you got the same ring as my boy right here.”

Topper grabs the gold ring hanging from (Y/N)’s necklace, bringing it closer under the light and taking Rafe’s hand. “Wow, are you guys soulmates?”

The boys around them laugh, and (Y/N) pulls her necklace away before anyone can guess anything. She watches as Rafe grunts, still so busy trying to separate the powder in lines.

“Wanna try a line?”

“She can’t, Topper.”

All eyes are on Rafe now, who’s rubbing his nose and licking his lips. Rafe never stops anyone from doing a line and even asked Wheezie if she wanted to try one before, so the words that came out of his mouth appear as a shock to all of them.

“Why?” (Y/N) asks, tilting her head to one side. If he doesn’t want to show her off to his friends, he might as well stop trying to control her life. She looks back to Topper, “I’ll try a line, Tops.”

Topper smiles, giving her a rolled-up 100 dollars bill and pushing his chair back to allow her in. (Y/N) takes the chance to brush her back against Rafe’s front, hearing his ragged breath all the sudden.

She bends down, giving Rafe the perfect view of her back, and snorts a line. She falls onto Rafe’s lap as he pulls her close, breathing into her sweet smell as she throws her head back from the sudden tingling in her stomach.

“Stand up,” he orders in her ears, “Stand up, (Y/N).”

Before Rafe can push her off, she stands up quickly and makes her way back to her previous seat. She only tried coke once, way before she met Rafe, and she had thought of it as nothing more but the last time she tried the substance. She prefers drinking to get her mind off since then.

“You’re joining the game later?” Topper asks, glancing down at her short skirt. (Y/N) mindlessly pulls her dress down, and throws her head back once again.

“What game?”

“Truth or dare,” he smiles.

“I don’t play children’s games,” she fakes yawn, “Are you playing?”

“I don’t think so,” he replies, licking his lips. “Like you said, I don’t play children’s games.”

Whatever Topper’s doing to get (Y/N)’s attention; it’s just not working. She’s way too head over heels for the boy beside him, who’s still red and flustered from the brief teasing she had for him a few moments ago.

“(Y/N), wanna grab a drink?”

Both (Y/N) and Topper look up to Rafe. He’s trying his hardest not to look at her again and busies himself with the powder. “You don’t look quite comfortable with Topper.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she replies, watching as his head snaps back to her. She licks her lips, “We’re alright, aren’t we, Tops?”

Topper nods, more than ready to have a fling with the pretty girl beside him, pogue or not pogue.

“Okay,” Rafe replies, “Whatever you say.”

Whatever (Y/N)’s doing to grab his attention; she’s doing a great job at it. Rafe’s jaw tenses at the sound of her laughter, and he has to look the other way when Topper’s hands sneak their way to around her shoulders.

He’s almost glad when Sarah comes to tell them something about the game starting. He sneaks to beside (Y/N), giving her a soft touch on her back, and off he goes to sit on the opposite side of her.

His mind’s still woozy, and he’s struggling to even open his eyes. The booming music still thrums against his eardrums, and the drinks he had earlier keeps every muscle of his active and ready to do anything crazy.

“You’re playing?” Someone asks him from the right.

What else can happen from a silly game of truth or dare?

“Yeah.”

Rafe hopes (Y/N) isn’t playing, because he knows the stupid things his friends would ask her. Always being the topic of his friends’ conversations, he’s clear with their intentions towards (Y/N).

And he’s not making any of it a reality.

“Topper, truth or dare.”

“Truth,” he answers, and Rafe’s eyes snap back to (Y/N). Surprisingly, her eyes are already on him, her stare so pierced that Rafe has to shift his position to ignore the aching in the pits of his stomach.

Rafe doesn’t care enough to listen to whatever his best friend’s saying, and his eyes stay on (Y/N). The girl smiles at him, and his eyes trail down to her chest.

Of course she would wear something like a top that doesn’t cover half of her chest.

He looks away, biting his lips.

“(Y/N)! Truth or dare?”

(Y/N) groans at Topper, crossing her arms and yelling ‘I’m not playing’. Her friends moan at her, pressuring her to keep the game going, and after a few pleas and more groans, she sighs.

She’s so easy to manipulate.

Rafe stares at her again, licking his lips.

“Dare.”

The crowd cheer, but the volume is down to mute to Rafe, who’s too busy having her glued to his brain. She looks wonderful under the dim lights, and Rafe wants nothing more than to have her screaming under him.

“I dare you to make out with the hottest person in the room.”

“Change the game,” Rafe says to no one in particular, sitting up straighter. “Change the game.”

“Yo, what?” Kelce asks, “What’s wrong with you?”

Rafe ignores his friend, and stares at the girl.

(Y/N) stands up from her seat and walks towards Topper, and Rafe can feel his heart stopping. His fear is coming to reality, and she’s so close to Topper they’re practically kissing.

He lays his head against the cushion, his heart aching.

“Yo, Rafe, it’s your turn!”

Rafe sits up straighter, rubbing his eyes and looking around the group as everyone else stares at him. He groans, feeling so tired and not having a clue where he have gone to a few minutes ago.

It might the aftermath of the coke, but it doesn’t feel as good as always.

How long did he pass out?

“Truth or dare, Rafe.”

“I’m not playing,” he mumbles, rubbing his temple.

“If you’re backing out now, you’ll have to pay a hundred bucks.”

What the fuck?

“Since when?” He asks, looking up to the random girl he has seen around the country club a few times. “That’s not the rules.”

“It is now.”

“Fine. Dare.”

Anything to put an end to this game.

“I dare you to do a line on Jessie’s back.”

The room grows silent, and Rafe can feel all stares at him. He blinks, trying to register what he just heard, and laughs. “Just a line?”

(Y/N) bites her lips. He wouldn’t do it, would he?

Somehow, JJ finds his way behind the couch (Y/N) is sitting on. He places a hand comfortably on her shoulder and watches her jerk. “You’re okay?”

She doesn’t reply, but JJ knows the answer all too well.

Rafe’s friends clear the table off from drinks and Jessie lays her bare back against the glass table. Rafe doesn’t look up to her to ask for permission or to give her any reassurances, and it feels as if he wants to do it too.

JJ’s grip around her shoulder tightens, “You should go.”

She shakes her head, staring at the scene before her.

The intoxicating powder is poured by an excited Topper directly on Jessie’s stomach, and (Y/N) feels sick to her core. She feels like screaming, because why wouldn’t he say no?

It’s not like a hundred bucks would be too much for him to stop playing.

Rafe dips his head to the same level as Jessie’s head, and (Y/N) stares at the girl bites her lips the same way (Y/N) does when Rafe’s close to her.

Except he’s close to someone else.

The crowd erupts into a loud roar again as Rafe finally stands up from the lines, his head becoming more bumping and his respiratory rate increasing.

The kook prince doing a line on some hot girl in Figure 8. 

What a headline.

His eyes look up to the people around him, but (Y/N) is nowhere in sight.

“Where is she?” He asks Topper. His hands found themselves wrapped around Topper’s shoulders for balance.

“Where is who?”

“My girlfriend,” he answers, not thinking much. “I have to go.”

“What girlfriend, Rafe?” Topper laughs. “Man, you’re in too deep. The game’s not finished.”

“I’ll pay the hundred,” he replies and makes his way out of the party. His sight is becoming so blurry that he falls by the side of the pool a few times before he sees the sight of her climbing JJ’s bike.

“Hey, hey, where are you going?” He asks, standing in front of the bike and not letting JJ turn to the exit. “The party’s not finished!”

“Fuck off, Cameron,” JJ replies, blocking Rafe’s view of his girlfriend. (Y/N) stares down to her lap, not wanting to look him in the eyes, and Rafe’s breath hitches at the silence.

“What did I do?”

Before Rafe can hear any explanation, JJ pushes him down to the side road and he groans from the sudden impact. He looks up to the blonde and lunges for him, only for them to end up by the side of the road.

“Oh my god, stop!” (Y/N) yells, trying to pry her brother away from Rafe. “JJ, he’s not thinking straight. Let’s just go!”

“Don’t get near (Y/N) ever again!” JJ yells, his eyes flaring up in anger and his knuckles turning purple. “She deserves someone better than a cheating fuck like you!”

Out of all the responses Rafe can give to JJ, he lets out the coldest laugh, and the sound of his voice carries throughout the dark neighborhood.

“I’m cheating? She was cheating on me too!”

“What are you saying?” (Y/N) scoffs, “I wasn’t cheating, Rafe, I’m not you.”

“Yeah? The kiss with Topper?”

“That wasn’t a kiss! I gave him a peck on his cheeks!”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact you didn’t kiss me.”

“Is that why you’re acting like a dick? Because I didn’t kiss you when Tops asked me to kiss the hottest guy in the room?” She laughs. This whole thing seems funny all of a sudden after hearing Rafe’s side of the story. “I thought you want us to stay lowkey.”

“Whatever, can you get your fucking bodyguard off me?” Rafe replies, “And don’t call him Tops. It’s like you’re begging to get fucked by him.”

JJ makes a move again, but (Y/N) quickly pulls him away. She wipes her eyes with the back of her hands, and Rafe wishes he hadn’t said the words out loud.

JJ finally lets go of him and walks to his bike, feeling so tired but pumped at the same time from the brief fight with Rafe. He wanted more than anything for them to break up, but what just happened isn’t exactly what he had in mind. 

“So you’re going?”

“There’s no reason for me to stay, Rafe,” she replies. “You don’t even want to admit that we’re dating. Are you embarrassed of me?”

When he doesn’t reply, (Y/N) pushes his chest that he staggers backward, still so woozy and lightheaded he feels like fainting.

“Are. You. Embarrassed. Of. Me?”

Rafe stays silent, looking down to the ground and wishing the world would just swallow him up.

“Go to hell, Rafe,” she replies, and Rafe inches backward when her gold ring he had bought for her to match his own ring rolls down to his feet. He quickly looks up to her.

She’s not breaking up with him, is she?

If he felt like he has gone through hell before, this feeling is a lot worse. 

Part #2

 -

@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleeping @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @unfortunatekiwitrash @scottybitch @asimpwriter @amaya124 @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u @badbussylol @savannah-elliott @angelreyesgirl100 @haterpenny @beehappyyy @alwaysclassyeagle @maybankslut @kayleea122 @clearbolts @lovelyxtom @christianaevans @jemimah-b99 @opierdalacz @dangerdolns @wildflowerliv @classygirlything21 @alwaysclassyeagle @rottenstyx @wxn-drlst

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smuts #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron one shot #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagines #outerbanks #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks one shot #outerbanks imagines

[beann-e]

Bnha Characters reacting to when you quit your job

bakugou

your steps were quiet as you tried to work up the energy to unlock your front door. Your hands sweating and cold when you finally got the energy to put the key in the lock a deep exhale leaving your lips when you finally walked in.

Your Body only carrying you to your kitchen counter before you dropped your keys and bag on the same counter your body now rested against.

The room heating up and shifting from the ice quiet atmosphere youd created when you felt strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you back to meet a hard chest

Small kisses being planted on the side of your neck as you let out another sigh of relief as you spoke trying not to drown in the comfort being given to you “ baby “

Your body shook as you heard a deep grunt of acknowledgment “ we — we need to talk “

you felt as another set of kisses were placed to your neck before his head snuggled into the spot between your neck and shoulder “ I— I think I made a mistake“

You bit at your lip as you kept going “ I— I was trying my best to stick up for myself y’know like you told me”

“ mm—and did you“

“ I did —I mean I did stick up for myself and I had to I needed to bu—”

“ slowly losing interest y/n “

you let out a shallow cough “ but I think I did it at the wrong time “

his body stood up a bit straighter head still remaining in the same place somehow “ baby I —i lost my job “

You felt as your boyfriends body went hard almost as if he was trying not to slam your own body into the floor in anger his grip around your waist only getting tighter “ like I said I — I wrong time“

“ wrong time? — y/n wrong place “ he screamed as he jolted your soul out of your already shaken figure. His head flying back to look at you conveying all the anger and annoyance he held, “ what the fuck do we do now “

you let out a small laugh to try to ease the tension “ we — we rely on your hero check ? “

You watched as he sucked his teeth and moved out of the kitchen “ I can barely feed a fucking roach with my salary y/n “ his voice getting louder as he walked into the living room you following closely behind “ i — i can barely feed you — us — y/n this is why we don’t have little crumb snatchers running around now “

his voice deep and heavy “ cause we’re broke do you get that babe ? huh no — fuck — you— fuck fuck fuck you gotta go back — you can’t just be chilling around the fucking house while i’m working my ass off that’s not how starting a family works y/n “

“ baby it’s just until I can get a new job “

“ tch— and how long will that take y/n “

“ well I— “

“ huh months ? “

“ well n— “

“ couple weeks “

“ I mean hopefull— “

“ babe you don’t even fucking know “ he sighed as he griped the skin on the bridge of his nose “ so fucking stupid — so so so fucking stupid “

the room went quiet as your eyes dropped to the ground. “ wel— no — I — I don’t know kats” you shook your head “ I— I really don’t“

“ and that’s the problem y/n “ he screamed eyes finally opening to look at you.

God, he loved you but seriously you just didn’t think sometimes

It’s not that he was calling you stupid it’s just that he really really loved you

He loved that you listened to him. That whenever he gave advice you heard it and went with it.

The night he told you to speak up he was honestly just fucking with you. He always forgets that he has someone who loves him now meaning he’s taken seriously. He always forgets he’s not in high school anymore.

He can’t say something crazy and asshole—ish and expect to just be ignored. He has someone that loves him and will truly listen.

Your not the stupid one

nor the one in the wrong he is

and he knows he is because he heard everything you said about your situation. Yet, he knew you were different from him whereas he had been speaking his mind for years regardless of ranks.

You couldn’t.

You had a job where everything relied on ranks and status. You couldn’t just say whatever the fuck you wanted to like he could and yet he convinced you that night to speak up whenever your boss gave you extra work you didn’t wanna do.

His eyes felt heavy and so did his body his brain automatically beating himself up as he stared at you imagining the rough day youd had. If he was pissed off with the current situation he could only imagine how you felt.

Someone who hated to rely on others yet, now having to rely on their boyfriend.

“ come here “ your eyes lit up at the statement as your tired body wobbled over and into bakugous arms. Head hitting his chest as he crushed you “ I love you and i’m proud of you “

your heart sank.

“ fuck those idiots you only have room for one anyways and hes— fuck trust me I know i’m enough “

Shoto

“ so “

“ so “

You sat on the couch legs splayed out in front of you and hands playing with the tassels of the pillows placed next to you.

God you loved these pillows. You actually remember the day you bought them.

Y’know back when you had money

“ y/n “ you watched as shoto shifted uncomfortably on the couch next to you “ my love what are you doing home “

He shook his head confused at the body placed comfortably next to his own “ your not supposed to be home for “ he looked down at his watch moving his suit jacket up his arm to create space and to make sure he was seeing the time correctly “ for 7 more hours “

you let out a short laugh “ you sound like you just got caught cheating sho “

his eyebrows crinkled together as he stared at you in disgust “ y/n I would never “

His hand moved to be placed on your thigh “my love is that what you think ? — if that’s why your here then I can assure you tha—I mean honestly if so I would never be stupid enough to disrespect you in our home— you could’ve went to my office at least I mea— “

“ I lost my job shoto “

The air shifted as the hand on your thigh suddenly felt colder than before “ I— I lost my job “

you took a deep breath shaking your head “ it’s a long story on why but i’ve been leaving the house — pretending really— to go to work “

You chuckled “ god i’m sucha bad person “ your small chuckle turned into a hearty laugh as you felt your body go slack “ A fucking horrible timekeeper too if I managed to forget my husband gets off before me on weekends “

“ do not say these things about yourself “

“ it’s not like it’s a lie “ your tear filled eyes coming up to look at his. ” right “

“ I will not stand for this y/n “

“ for what — having an unemployed s/o—i mean you already have one so not much to do about that “

you scoffed “ why don’t you want a housewife ? huh“ you smiled “ I can wear the skirts for you y’know with the aprons cook you dinner and maybe we can have kids y’know we can even get —“

“ enough “

your body shook your eyes widened facing the 6 ft male now towering over you “ your always joking about serious things and I — I don’t understand “ his eyebrows creasing in desperate need to understand you. Eyes darting around your face “ how “

his voice going deeper as he got angrier “ y/n you lost your job“ his eyes grew wide “ do you realize how serious this is “

“ wh— “ you shook your head letting out a short scoff “ of course I do —I mean sho i’m the one who qui—lost it “

“ no you clearly don’t “ he scoffed “ not if your sitting here making jokes in my face “

His mouth quirked up in disgust “ it’s almost insulting — disgusting really “

“ wh— sho—“ you felt as a tear fell from your eye “ baby what could be so disgusting huh ? so ‘ insulting ‘ about me choosing to leave huh “

his eyes softened “ because of your reason to leave “

“ my reason ? “

“ my love I know you — I know you didn’t get fired and I know you wouldn’t just leave you loved it there “

your head dropped as your fiddled with your fingers “ so that means something led you to make that life changing decision and it hurts me that you were forced to make it “

Your heart broke, he was right he was always right, for days at work youd been dealing with an overbearing co worker who would tell you to do everything they didn’t feel like doing and when you finally decided to say no to them

They went and told your boss. Who even though you’d been working there longer than your so called coworker still believed everything they were told.

That was the day that you sadly found out your job favored years over hard work.

Due to the other person being there longer you were trumped in telling your story. It was seen as not necessary because , someone who was there for so long would have no reason to lie on someone like you.

A newbie

“ someone made you quit this job “

“ sho no they— I decided “

You felt as the couch shifted from him kicking it. You thinking he was moving to grab his shoes except walking past them and unlocking the door instead.

“ baby where are you going — we need to talk about how we’re going to split the bills now that i— “

“ i’ll handle it “

“ shoto you can’t put everything on your dads card we’re not “ you let out a soft exhale “ we’re not children anymore “

“ i’ll pay for it all myself — and you can be my little housewife “ he scoffed as your expression grew sour “ it was so funny a moment ago right “

“ shoto i’m not gonna ask again where are you going “

“ where else “

your eyebrows came together in a furrow “ wh— “

“ my love you work for my company ? obviously who ever I put in charge “ he shrugged walking barefoot to his car unlocking the door “ isn’t doing a very good job if they fire their bosses s/o ? “

He got into the drivers seat as he turned the car on and reversed the car “ needs to learn respect no ? so i’ll just have them switch places with you“ he smiled softly “ i’ll see you when I get home “

His once furious eyes turning soft at your body hidden in pajamas “ go inside baby —it’s cold —go order us some takeout i’ll be back in a little ok “

“ sho “

“ just let me handle this —i love you and i’ll be right back my love—go “

You shook your head softly “ go y/n “

#bnha shoto todoroki #bnha shoto #bnha todoroki #bnha bakugou #todoroki bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha fluff #bnha #mha fanfiction #mha angst #mha bakugou #todoroki mha #mha #mha x reader #mha x y/n #bakugou angst #katsuki bakugo imagine #bakugou headcanons #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #shoto x reader #shoto imagine #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto x y/n #mha shoto #katsuki bakugo fluff #mha x you #mha imagines #todoroki imagine

[agapaic]

[19 days] whiplash [ch. 365 after-shot]

The shop will be closing soon. He’s seen an attendant wandering around, who will probably ask him to leave in the next five minutes. There’s no one else here. His clothes are vivid against the neon glow of the tanks. The fish cast strange shadows on his shirt, living out a second life on his skin.

They swim in half-circles before sharply changing direction, never touching the glass. He wonders if they know it’s there, as if they can sense some immovable wall that holds them back.

He’s not getting deep about this. He could contemplate, quite extensively, about how their freedom must be bought by some higher power, and they would really only go from one tank to the next, slightly bigger, slightly richer. It’s all fake shit, and he remembers that in some ways he’s got it better than an animal. He can, at least, run away. Maybe he won’t get far. Just to the edges of the city villages where he’ll get a job earning less than before and lose his place in school.

Guan Shan puts a finger on the glass in front of him. There’s a label in the corner, peeling away from the glass. Veiltail goldfish. They have wispy, membrane-like tails. He could put his hand on the other side and see all the way through. Guan Shan watches the only black fish in the tank move placidly through the water.

Beneath the label, a smaller one: Black moor. For a minute he considers tugging the label off and putting it in his pocket, a little secret. He remembers that would be stealing, in some way, and someone in the shop would have to go to the effort of printing and laminating and reapplying the label just for one fish.

Guan Shan turns away.

He wanders for a few more minutes. He’s aware of his reflection in the glass. He worries about how long the attendant will let him stay there, and the thought that they will make him leave makes him feel slightly sick. He likes it here—the quiet, the muted hum of the tanks, the strange lights. They make him feel somewhere else.

His mother is working the night shift and won’t be home until just before he’s meant to go to school the next morning. They’ll have long enough together that he could tell her he got fired from the shop, but not long enough that he could reasonably pretend to have forgotten as he tugs on his uniform and slips out the front door.

She won’t be mad—she never is.

She can’t take on another shift.

Mentally, he has started taking stock. His Xbox is a few years old, but he’ll get something for it. He has a stack of old music magazines from his dad that could catch the eye of a collector. His computer, maybe.

The earrings.

His stomach twists.

Really, it’s not much. It’ll earn them a month, which could be just long enough for him to get another job, but what’s the likelihood of that in a city where most kids are just trying to bulk their CV’s for their college applications. Besides, his grades speak for themselves. He got lucky with the shop, and lightning doesn’t strike twice.

‘Hey, kid. We’re closing soon, so unless you wanna buy something…’

Guan Shan nods. His shoulders round.

For no logical reason, he says: ‘Can I take a goldfish?’

‘Sure. The black moor? Saw you had your eye on that one.’

‘No, one of the others.’

The attendant comes up next to him. ‘Just the one? They don’t like being on their own, you know.’

He presses his jaw tightly. A small sound comes out of him. He looks at the price tag and is somehow shocked and saddened to see the figure so low.

‘Fine,’ he says. ‘The black one, too, I guess.’

He pays, then leaves. It’s late enough that the streets are quieter than he expected. He’s usually home by now, his shift over, reheating leftovers while he works on his homework. He stands there while the shop attendant locks up behind him, holding the plastic bag with two fish in his hand. He feels stupid. Behind his eyes, he can feel a sort of stinging sensation.

He has the unnameable urge to grab one of the passing strangers and tell them how he’s feeling, what has happened, what could happen. On some level he knows that everyone has their own problems, and he’s not the type of person to overstep his bounds. Instead, he watches them pass, and after a few more minutes he goes to the nearest subway station and gets the train home.

/

He had half expected He Tian to find him on the street. He’d imagined it, He Tian catching his arm as he wandered from store to store, deliberating at large windows with thin mannequins and expensive jewellery without price tags. There is a part of him that’s disappointed that it didn’t play out like this, a part of him that is even angrier to find He Tian sitting in the stairwell of his apartment when he eventually does get home.

It’s close to midnight, and the stairwell is clinically quiet. Outside, the stars are dusty and covered in a thin layer of smog that is less noticeable in the day. He Tian looks exhausted. He’s the type of good looking where even the slightest imperfection somehow makes him even more attractive. Guan Shan hates it.

He stands when Guan Shan walks in, suddenly filling the space, and Guan Shan says, ‘Get outta my way.’

‘Where have you been?’

Guan Shan shoulders past him. There’s a moment where he thinks He Tian will grab him around the shoulders, the air around him simmering enough that Guan Shan is convinced it’s a near thing, choking with danger, but he lets him pass. He follows Guan Shan up the staircase, his footsteps silent, his body casting long shadows on the steps where Guan Shan sets his feet.

At the door, Guan Shan pockets the notice that’s taped there, knowing He Tian has already seen it. Less sharply, he picks up the notes in He Tian’s and Jian Yi’s writing and folds them into careful squares.

‘You’re not comin’ in,’ he says.

‘I called you, like, fifty times. Did you block me?’

Guan Shan thinks He Tian sounds angrier than he really has a right to be. He turns and presses his back to the door. He has his keys clenched tightly in a closed fist.

‘Yeah. I didn’t want to talk to you. I thought you would’ve gotten that.’

‘I can get you another job. Something better paid.’

‘You’re so fuckin’ clueless.’

He Tian’s eyes tighten.

‘You’re ruining my life,’ says Guan Shan.

‘That’s—that isn’t true. I’ve helped you. You would’ve been expelled if—’

‘Maybe I would’ve gotten expelled. But I wouldn’t have had She Li on my dick all the time, would I? Wouldn’t need you to get me a job ‘cause you made me lose my last one, would I? You’re just—stickin’ a bandage on shit when you hurt me first.’

‘It’s not always like that. Don’t make it sound like it’s always like that.’

Guan Shan shakes his head. ‘I want you to go. I told you I didn’t want to see you again. Fuck off.’

He Tian says, ‘Let me pay what was on the door.’

‘Fuck off.’

He Tian doesn’t move and Guan Shan squeezes his eyes shut. He’s going to cry again, the frustration bubbling sourly in the back of his throat. He doesn’t trust himself to open the door while He Tian is still here because he knows he’ll probably let him in.

‘Do I really make you feel like a failure?’

Guan Shan rubs at his eyes with his fist. His voice comes hoarse and thick: ‘I am a failure. Bein’ around you just makes it so much more fuckin’ obvious.’

He doesn’t want He Tian’s pity when he says this, or his reassurance. He’s just being honest. Saying it out loud is kind of breathlessly relieving. He couldn’t say something like that to his mother, or any of the teachers at school. He couldn’t say it to Grey, who he’s known for years. He Tian knows more about him than anyone. It’s a terrifying thought.

If they never see each other again, will He Tian tell everyone the things Guan Shan has told him? About the restaurant and his dad, or about She Li and the things Guan Shan has let him do to him? He feels vulnerable and sick thinking about it, completely powerless, as he does a lot of the time when he’s around He Tian.

He oscillates between that feeling of uselessness and the feeling of being so empowered that he thinks it must be what being high or drunk feels like. That latter has him trusting his own convictions, having an unadulterated faith in himself like jumping from a bridge and thinking he might just fly—so long as He Tian is with him. He doesn’t like how it’s one or the other, empowered or powerless, and rarely anything in between. He’s heard adults on TV talking about being codependent, pulled punishingly into each other's orbit, and he wonders if this is the same thing.

In the end he supposes it doesn’t really matter. So what if He Tian tells everyone? Probably, he won’t see the rest of the year out at school. He’ll get a job on a different side of the city and no one will hear from him ever again. The embarrassment will all be internal and will only last a week or two. Then life will move on. He wishes he were older and wiser and better at believing this. He wishes it didn’t feel like the universe might fall out from beneath him.

‘Doesn’t matter what I do, it turns to shit,’ he tells He Tian. ‘No matter how hard I work, I’m never gonna earn enough. I can spend three hours studyin’ for a test and still come last. If it isn’t She Li, then it’ll be someone else. I just—I can’t catch a fuckin’ break, He Tian. But you do somethin’ and you come first every time. Life’s so easy for you.’

He Tian shifts from side to side. ‘Do you think things wouldn’t feel so hard if you stopped focussing on what you think my life is like?’

‘You’re pissin’ me off.’

‘I don’t know how I’m meant to help you. You won’t let me give you money. It’s like pulling teeth from you just trying to know what’s going on with you. What are you so fucking afraid of?’

‘I never asked for your help.’

‘You shouldn’t have to—that’s why we’re friends.’

‘I never said I wanted to be your friend.’

He Tian frowns, his look very serious. He isn’t teasing tonight. Neither is Guan Shan. There is the sense that their interactions are always anything but teasing, really, some dark undercurrent that runs between the two of them like dark veins.

He Tian says, ‘Are those fish?’

For a moment Guan Shan thinks he’s joking, deflecting wildly to distract from the seriousness of what Guan Shan has just said. Then he feels the crinkle of a plastic bag in his hand and, remembering how he’d just spent the last few hours, nearly drops the two goldfish onto the floor.

‘Yeah,’ he says.

‘You don’t have a tank.’

‘Yeah, no. I don’t know why I bought them.’

He Tian hesitates. There is a curious, predictable gleam in his eyes. ‘Red and black?’

‘It’s all they had left at the store.’

He Tian is looking intently at the bag. ‘Do you remember when we went to the aquarium? And you said I wasn’t someone you could forget?’

‘I just meant that—’

‘I know what you meant. But I always pretend like you meant it the other way.’

Guan Shan thinks, Don’t you think things would be easier if you stopped focusing on what you want me to mean and what I actually mean?

Instead of saying anything, he looks down at his sneakers. They’re scuffed and starting to rip at the seams. The thought of having to buy new ones makes him panic and the thought of buying a pair of second-hand ones online makes him panic even more. There’s no shame in it, but the thought of wearing someone else’s clothes makes him feel strange, especially when he knows He Tian could buy fifty pairs without blinking.

Guan Shan considers that thought and replays what He Tian has just said about focusing on his life too much more than his own. Maybe part of that is true.

Before He Tian, did he always feel things so intensely? Did the bad always feel so fucking awful? He knows that things were mechanical, and he was mean and didn’t think much about other people in particularly nice ways. He knows he didn’t laugh much then, or have dinners and sleepovers with friends. He knows everything hurt on a distant, muted level that was easy to ignore. Not much time has passed since then, and he reasons that nothing about him has probably changed, just everything else around him.

‘I can’t understand why you won’t let me help you,’ says He Tian, when the silence has stretched too long.

‘Because I’ll get used to it.’

He Tian frowns, not understanding.

‘One day, you’re not gonna be around. And I’ll be fucked.’

‘I’ll always be there for you.’

‘You don’t know that. People say that a lot and then they disappear or get taken away, even if they didn’t want to.’

It’s obvious they’re talking about his dad, but it feels safer to talk about things in vague, subjective conversation. Maybe things would be easier if they talked openly about things and didn’t use metaphors and hypotheticals. As it is, Guan Shan doesn’t feel ready to try the alternative. He is conscious of the fact that this feels like a conversation. They are passing words back and forth that hold meaning and neither of them has touched the other yet. It feels new and fragile as an oil painting, still wet, and so he doesn’t let himself think about this for long.

‘I think you’re getting this wrong,’ says He Tian. ‘I’m not asking you to rely on me. Obviously, I’d kind of like that. I like the thought of you needing me, and I know that says something about me. But—I’m just asking you to let me help you. Just here and there, no strings.’

Guan Shan rubs his forehead with the back of his knuckles. His keys are starting to pinch his skin and he can feel a headache starting to surface.

‘I’m tired,’ he says. ‘I actually do want you to go.’

He Tian’s jaw clenches and he breathes out heavily through his nose. He’s probably thinking he’s wasted his time.

‘Okay,’ he says then. ‘But we’re not done.’

A new wave of exhaustion comes over Guan Shan, crippling and final. He wants to get into bed with his skin against cold sheets and sleep for twelve hours without waking once.

‘You’re not the only one that ever gets to decide that,’ he tells He Tian, a little sharply. ‘You’ve gotta learn to let people go.’

‘But what if I know I can help them?’ says He Tian. ‘If I don’t, I’ve just—failed.’

They look at each other.

A minute stretches into an eternity that could be seconds or hours, and everything has gone backwards. Everything is the same.

Guan Shan can’t put his finger on what has just happened, but he feels like laughing. Their fears are twinned, self-perpetuating, some kind of ouroboros chasing its tail. Who will get caught first?

They both seem to take in a breath at the same time, and He Tian takes a step back.

‘Goodnight,’ he says.

Guan Shan nods. He waits for He Tian’s retreating back to disappear a few flights down before opening the door to his apartment, and shuts it swiftly behind him.

/

There’s a knock at the door while he’s brushing his teeth. The fish are swimming placidly in their bag on the edge of the bathroom sink. It’s past one, and he keeps all the lights off because his eyes are feeling sore. He’s adjusted to the dim glow that comes from street lamps seeping through the curtains, the blink of the timer on the electric stove, his Xbox gleaming in his bedroom. His mother shouldn’t be home yet and she has her own set of keys.

With a sinking heart, Guan Shan pictures his landlord demanding payment.

Worse, he pictures He Tian. Before He Tian left, they’d resolved nothing. It feels like being back to square one, chasing each other around a chess board. It fills him with a vast emptiness that makes him feel like he’s existing outside of himself, waiting for someone else to take over.

He pads silently towards the front door, his toothbrush jammed into his cheek, and peers through the viewer. There’s toothpaste dripping down his chin. In the hall, there’s no one there. He’s half-convinced he imagined it. He counts to ten before he opens the door, steps out—and his foot connects with something hard. There is a cardboard box sitting on the welcome mat.

Guan Shan peers around. The light in the stairwell is artificially bright. He kneels down and opens the tabs on the box, which hasn’t been taped. He swallows.

For the fish, says the note on the second box, nestled inside the first. Careful, it’s fragile.

Guan Shan rubs the heel of a palm into his right eye. He sighs. Then he reaches out, braces himself, and picks up the tank. He carries it into his apartment, and the door locks behind him.

/

thank you for reading! if you’d like to support me on my ko-fi/request a short drabble, you can do so here: https://ko-fi.com/agapaic 💞

#19 days #tianshan #old xian #he tian #mo guan shan #my fanfic #sorry for errors - it's late but i couldn't get this out my head

[twistedmusings]

Reading Between The Lines

A/N: I feel bad whenever I say 'hey here is what I am working on' and then my muses tell me 'no...this is what you are working on'. It's like my brain can't concentrate on one thing entirely q wq. In my defense though, I'm exploring my twst faves...and Cater may be a runner up to Vil...

Warnings: Dry humping, dirty talking and a quick handjob just as unsatisfying and ungratifying as Cater feeling like maybe he shouldn't have let you go just yet.

“Whoops.”

Cater’s phone case cracked as it hit the floor, eyes locking with yours as you pull away from the Heartslabyul second year. Why had he even dropped his phone in the first place? The case had cost a lot and he had queued up for hours to get it, there should have been no reason for him to drop it.

Maybe the shock from seeing you in Heartslabyul?

No, that was normal. You were friends with Ace and Deuce after all so your presence in Heartslabyul was normal.

Maybe from seeing you in a bedroom that wasn’t a first year room?

He was coming to check up on a second year who had mentioned something about needing help in Astrology so Riddle had instructed Cater to help the guy out. The ‘strict Queen’ was aiming for the highest grade among the dorms, after all. So he was just carrying out his duty as an upperclassman!

So seeing you here, in this second year’s room, shirt around your elbows as a pair of hands--

that weren’t his--gently wrapped themselves around your waist was probably what made him drop his case.

Good to know, if he had come to that conclusion at any other time that you weren’t here, he might have said something mean to his lower-class men.

You move to fix your shirt as the second year rushes to apologize, walking up to him and spouting words Cater wouldn’t bother to hear. His eyes kept staring as you fixed yourself up to look a tad more proper than how he had found you.

It wasn’t like the sight of you in that state was unfamiliar to him, he just hadn’t seen it in a long time.

“Please just keep it between us, Cater-san! I don’t know what I’d do if the dorm head found out about this.”

He snaps out of his trance, looking down at the second year before grinning as he let out a slow hum, pretending to mull the request over in his head.

“Should I? If I remember correctly...Rule 345--Only when the sky turns red as it is dawning can a romantic partner be brought--”

“I--I’ll tell the dorm leader that you helped me with class!”

Cater grins, “That’s one way to make it up to me~ I guess for now I should leave you with a warning, right?” he tilts his head to call out to you, “The same goes for you [Y/N]-san! I can’t have you getting someone other than Ace and Deuce in trouble!”

He can't help but feel a sense of pride when you chuckle at what he had said, turning around to give him a peace sign as you walk by the second year.

“I’ll try to do an effort to hide in the closet next time.”

The second year takes your hand and kisses it, apologizing for the trouble and closing his eyes when your hands cup his cheek and pull him in for a kiss, the action making Cater look down at his phone and open whatever app he saw first.

You wave goodbye as Cater closes the door quickly, not giving you a chance to look at your second year lover fully as the both of you walk down the corridors of Heartslabyul in silence.

“So.”

“Hm?”

Green eyes keep looking at his phone, scrolling through Magicam absentmindedly but sparring you one look as he sees you scratching at a hickey--he would have left a bigger one-- the second year had left behind.

“Was he any good?”

In his defense, what had started between you two was clearly labeled as a ‘no feelings allowed, we are just here to have fun’ relationship. You seemed to understand his nature better than most and were down for something that wasn’t super serious and borderline erotic in a sense.

Cater was sure that you two had done it in at least one surface in every common room in Heartslabyul. The thought kept him awake at night, actually.

“Was he any good…” you repeat the question, “As good as I’m going to get from a second year.”

“Oh the poor guy.” Cater can’t help the snort that escapes him as you two walk down a set of stairs leading to the dorm’s entrance, “It is surprising you went for him, didn’t you mention that you liked the older type?”

“Well after a certain ‘older type’ decided to end things, I thought I should try my hand at something different. Change my ways, you know?”

He didn’t know. Cater had no idea what you were talking about, in fact. Why would you have to change your ways for anyone? You were amazing, interesting, entertaining and attention-grabbing all wrapped up in an older sibling type package that he had admitted to being attracted to when he had brought up the ‘friends with benefits’ proposition. If you changed in anyway he would be disappointed--

Dammit he was doing it again.

“If you want to start a relationship with someone in Heartslabyul, I would recommend Trey. He’s handsome, hardworking and you wouldn’t go hungry. Perfect man material right there.”

Cater knew that the small jab was directed at him so he decided to switch subjects, preferring not to linger in the awkward feeling that came with the consequences of his actions.

He ended things because he had broken the rules you both had set in place. Feelings weren't allowed and yet he had let them burrow deep inside his heart and fester like some sort of unknown virus. Cater didn't care for them so he nipped the problem in the bud, broke things off in an amicable manner and moved on.

But, like with everything in his life, it had all been an act.

If it had been just the sex keeping him awake, he would have understood. He's a healthy young man and some of the activities you two engaged in would make any first year jealous. And for a while the memories of you warming his bed generally did start to make him yearn for your warmth.

It was the possibilities of what you could have had that were driving him insane.

Would you have said no to a date? The only thing you two did when you were alone were have sex, make fun of Magicam models, sleep and then have sex some more so surely you would have liked a change of scenery as well.

But he didn't know you as much as he wished he did. Nights in his bed had been spent tossing and turning as to what your answer would have been. Why did he even care? You both still hung out, you still had his number, it wasn't like either of you were dead to each other!

Cater just didn't know how to react to you seeing someone else, if that is what you were even doing in the first place.

"Trey-senpai? I guess...he is rather sweet, isn't he?"

"In more ways than one."

"...but I will have to pass." you rub the back of your neck, "You know I don't like sweets."

The clock strikes ten as Cater's eyes take all of you in, his mind blanking out for a response before he clicks his tongue and points behind him.

"Say, Prefect, I think you may have left something in my room. Mind if I give it to you now?"

-----

"Oh. Your case cracked."

"Yeah. Dropped my phone. Bummer, huh?"

"Here I thought you held onto that thing for dear life, can I see it?"

Cater laughs as he takes his phone out of his back pocket and hands it to you, turning back to dig in his drawer for the sole sock that you had left about a month ago.

Who was he bullshitting? He was panicking, plain and simple. Here he was, rummaging through his drawer like an idiot as he pretended to have a sock that he knew he didn't have all to keep you with him for a couple more minutes.

Stars, who was he? He didn't know himself anymore.

“And...dammit.” he laughs as he closes the bottom drawer of his heart closet, “Couldn’t find it. I’m sorry [Y/N]-chan, I shouldn’t have taken your time like that. Do you want me to walk you back to the dorm...or maybe you wanna talk on the phone while you walk there?”

He goes to grab his phone but stops as he turns to look at you, your fingers tracing the giant crack on the case before tapping it twice in quick succession.

“[Y/N]--”

“We both really messed up, huh?”

Cater blinks as your eyes stare at him as if, for a brief moment, you could look through him. Through the act, the apathy, the very thing that was keeping him at the seams but also making him feel like he would burst from the inside out.

“...what do you mean?”

You keep gazing at him for a couple of seconds before smiling as you hold up the phone.

“I shouldn’t have snuck into Heartslabyul to just get a need met...and you shouldn’t have walked into that poor student’s room without knocking.” you wave the phone around, “Now your precious item is broken.”

The conversation didn’t feel right. It felt as if you were saying something else and all Cater needed to do was read in between the lines.

But he refused to, he didn’t want to go below surface level. Everything would get so much more complicated if you both took that plunge.

Yet he was feeling daring, the smile on your face a clear challenge as he walked over to you and grabbed the edge of his phone.

“Maybe I wanted to break it.”

Silence reigns in the room as you two stare at each other, both of your hands holding onto the edge of his phone and daring the other to let go. He smiles and tugs on his edge, the movement effortlessly pulling you towards him as you snicker when the edge of your foot touches his.

“Cater.” you whisper as your hands slowly let go of the phone.

“Yes?” he whispers back, purposefully leaning over you as he places the phone on his desk.

“Nothing. I just like saying your name.”

Whether he started it or you started it honestly didn’t matter to him, the only thing Cater cared about was pulling you close and pressing his lips against yours so he could stop listening to all of your complicated sentences.

He didn’t understand them, he didn’t understand you.

And yet you seemed to understand him probably better than he understood himself.

Arms are around his neck as you pull him close, Cater slowly walking you back to his bed as the back of your knees hit the comforter which causes both of you to fall down. You pull away to snicker at the action but are brought right back into the kiss by needy lips, Cater whispering your name as he pushed you upwards so that you would be pressed right against the wall--

He groans when you pull away and is surprised to be kissing a pair of fingers instead of your lips, your smile still as elusive as ever as you slowly push his face away.

“I have a lover, senpai.”

Cater rolls his eyes, “I don’t like those kinds of jokes.”

“I’m not joking. It’s late so I’m just going to go over to his room and tell him that you’ll cover for us, okay? Okay. ”

You pinch his nose as you try to push him away but find your wrists grabbed and locked in place, Cater giving you a hard glare as he presses his forehead against yours.

“I said I don’t like those kinds of jokes.” he leans in and gives you another kiss, “You’re not his lover.”

“Who says that?”

“[Y/N]-chan did.” Cater’s lips press against yours again as he makes his way down to the offending hickey the second year had left on you, “The way you talk about him, the way you weren’t even embarrassed at getting caught. You are toying with the heart of one of my second years and I don’t think I can forgive you for that.”

He nips at the bruise before placing his lips on it, teeth gently opening up more blood vessels to form a much darker shade on your skin than what was left there before.

“Is that all you can’t forgive me for?”

Cater smiles against your skin as he takes your wrists and leads your arms to wrap around his neck, pulling you into his lap as he answers your question with a kiss.

His tongue meets yours this time around, both of you giggling at the familiar taste. When was the last time you two had kissed like this? Nevermind that, the question was already too annoying to think about. Instead, Cater moves his hips upwards as he groans into your lips at the wanted friction.

He takes a hold of your hips as he pushes you down to meet him mid-movement, his hips rolling up as yours are pushed down. The movement is sloppy and the action itself feels so unsatisfying but Cater almost feels as if this is the only thing he deserves from you. If either of you enjoyed this it would mean you two went too far--

“Haha...look at your face.”

Green eyes look at you as you cup the man’s face, pressing a gentle kiss on his nose as you start to roll your hips on his, meeting him halfway.

“You probably want to cum inside, right Cater-senpai?”

His hips jump at the mere thought, the idea of you laying on your side as his cum drips down from your sex all the way down your thighs.

“We did it with protection a lot ~We always followed the rules of our agreement…”

Hands dive between you two, Cater’s eyes never leaving yours as he works to get his pants off while his hands try to unbutton yours as well. You smile and meet him halfway again, taking your own bottoms off and tossing them carelessly to the side as you both are left in nothing but your underwear.

“Every time we did it--you always looked like you wanted to do something else--”

Cater takes the chance of you biting your lower lip to go a bit faster, the tip of his cock rubbing against you at a faster speed as he changed position quickly and hooked your knees over his elbows.

“And at first---at first I thought it was just you getting bored…”

He gasps when two of your fingers press right at the tip of his cock, the way he was moving his hips allowing it to rub comfortably against the padding of your fingers as you gently cooed at the precum gathering there.

“But one time I was able to see it. See what you really wanted--!”

His own hand makes his way in between the mess of hips and stuttered movements, his fingers tracing a familiar pattern up and down your sex as he feels you pull him out of his boxers and start to pump in rhythm.

“If...If you cum after me...I’ll let you cum inside...”

It’s starting to get hotter, Cater feels like he can see his own breath fogging up his vision.

“Count it as reward…”

The coil in his stomach is tightening, your hands moving faster as his stutters with the rhythm you were setting.

“For being honest with me at least one time.”

It’s a sticky mess, the white stuff sticking to your belly and his as he rides out his orgasm against your hand and stopping altogether when the feeling gets too much. His fingers work overtime before your back arches and you give into yours as well, your toes curling for a moment before your feet hit the mattress unceremoniously.

He didn’t know where in the world that had come from or what possessed you to talk like that...but that was probably the hardest he had released in the month you two stopped interacting with one another.

Cater looks at the mess once again before moving to clean it up, stopping only when he feels a hand tug at the front of his shirt and a pair of lips meeting his all over again.

“Offer is still on the table, senpai.”

You unbutton the first few buttons of your shirt, smiling as larger hands batted yours away to continue the job.

“Please do your best to hold out longer.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst imagines #twst smut #cater diamond #cater x reader #twst mc #adult section #//rushed and messy...but I bet that is what making out with Cater is like

[aliasimagines]

It Was You All Along // Dave Lizewski

requested by a lovely anon 💕

Can u write dave x fem!reader where reader Always had a crush on him but he kinda ignored reader bc of Katie but then someone popular asks reader out and he gets jealous and y/n dresses up super hot and he realizes he fucked up

word count: 1809

a/n: i hope this is close enough! ❤️ (i couldn't think of a different title but this one reminds me of Agatha All Along xd)

"Hey, Dave! My folks are gone for the weekend and I thought we could have an X-men watch party. Wanna come?" 

"Sorry I can't, I'm hanging out with Katie." 

"Again?" you ask a bit louder than intended,causing a few people to look at you in the hallway. You continue with a lower voice "Aren't you like, tired of all the lying? Like, what if she finds out that you're not actually gay, hm? Cause you know she will, eventually." 

"Why do you care so much?!" Dave says, clearly frustrated. 

You raise an eyebrow. 

"Oh why would I? Maybe because we have been best friends since diapers, you stupid asshole!" you say not caring if some students hear you or not, anymore. "But you know what, you are right. I shouldn't care. Go play pretend with Katie but don't come to me, crying when you end up getting your heart broken." 

"Don't worry, I won't." he snaps back. And you turn around and leave but not before flipping him off. You felt the angry tears rolling down your cheeks as you zigzagged between the chattering teenagers. 

You couldn’t  believe how Dave could be so blind! He only had eyes for Miss Perfect. Whom by the way, is a real bitch and would go back to ignoring Dave or calling him a freak if it wasn’t for his little gay act. 

Somehow you made your way over to the restroom and locked yourself into one of the booths.

Dave couldn’t even see you as a potential “love-interest”. Eventhough you were the one who always were there for him, you were always there when he called, running to him like a lost puppy. And he couldn’t even care less. And you hate him for it. But you hate yourself more for still liking him. 

It’s not like you can do something about it, if you could, you would have. But that’s not how it works, so you are just crying your guts out on the toilet trying not to think about Dave.

In all honesty, you have no idea how you made it through the day. You almost cried during biology but you caught yourself after a few lonely tears. You could feel Dave’s gaze on you but there was no way you would look at him. As soon as the last bell rang you were out of school, hurring past Tod and Marty, not being in the mood for them either.

The next day wasn’t any different, you didn’t hang with Dave, Tod and Marty like you normally do. You didn’t sit with them at lunch, instead walked over to the only empty table you saw and placed your tray there. You mounched on your food, completely unaware of your surroundings until you hear the chair next to you being pulled out. You look up to see Matthew Greendale, resident hottie of the school sit next to you. 

"Hey, sorry, it's not a problem if I sit here, right?" he asks. You eyed him suspiciously. 

"No, it's fine." 

It's fine?! You mentally scold yourself. You never even spoke to this guy, outside of literature in first year. Why would he sit next to you? 

"I didn't want to sit with all the other "popular jocks" he answered you unspoken question while taking a bite of his canteen-hamburger. “They’re fun and everything but it’s nice to get away from them sometimes.”

You think of your friends who are sitting a few tables away and you can’t help but agree with Matthew.

“Yeah, I feel you.” you say without thinking.

“Hey..We used to sit next to each other in freshman year, didn’t we? It’s y/n ,right?” 

You nod with a smile, honestly being surprised that he remembers you.

“Yeah!”

“I haven’t really seen you around a lot. But when I do you are always hanging with those comic book nerds.”

“Hey! Comics are great.”

He puts his hands up in a defense.

“Oh no! I didn’t mean it as an insult. Some comics are good, my little brother made read one last month. It was actually great.”

“What comic was it?”

“Oh, uhm..It was about some kind of blind dude in a devil costume.”

“Daredevil?” you ask with a giggle.

“Yes, that one!” he laughs too.

The two of you continue talking until the end of lunch break. He is surprisingly fun to talk to and he even offers to walk you to your next class after lunch. You had such a good time you didn’t even think about Dave, heck, you didn’t even notice him literally glaring daggers into Matthew.

“What’s up with you, dude?” Tod asks snapping Dave out of it. 

“Yeah, Dave. What the shit is going on with you and Y/N?” Marty asks too.

Dave forrows is eyebrows. Yes, what the shit is going on with the two of you? Every since yesterday's 'fight' with you he can't stop thinking. About how he spends most, if not all of his time either with being Kick-Ass or, rather with Katie. It used to be different. He spent every second with you and he just threw you away so he could maybe get laid. And sure, Katie may be hot as fuck but she is.. Well, she is not you. 

"We had a fight, yesterday. I.. And she was right." he explains with a grimace. "But why the fuck is that Greendale asshole is with her?" 

"You jealous or something, dude?" 

"Wha- Of course I am not jealous! Why would I be? You guys are nuts." 

Jealous… The word rolled around in his mouth like a new flavored milkshake he never tasted before. 

Could he be… Jealous? He never thought of you that way, you were always his best friend. Just that. But.. The more he thinks about it the more he can't stop that twist like feeling in his stomach. 

That night he can't focus on crime fighting. All his thoughts are tied to you. Whether he likes it or not, memories of you keep popping up in his mind. How didn't he notice your beautiful smile before? And your laugh? It's like a beautiful melody. And… Gosh! When did he become such a sappy teenager? Oh and another thing.. He kept trying to think of something else, anything else like Katie for example but he doesn't care anymore! 

Dave goes home early with a frustrated growl. The remaining hours of the night he spends with tossing and turning and daydreaming instead of sleeping. 

(the next afternoon, Atomic Comics) 

Dave bangs his head against the wood table once again. A tired groan leaves his lips when he hears Tod almost choking on his iced coffee. 

"What the tunk, Tod?" Marty and Dave ask almost at the same time. The dirty blonde haired boy keeps pointing outside the huge window that they are sitting next to at Atomic Comics. 

"Is that fucking y/n?!" 

Now all three of them look outside the shop and see you, all dressed up nad seemingly waiting for someone. 

"Holy fuck!" Dave whispers. He stares at you, with his mouth a gap before jumping up from the booth they were sitting at and rushing outside the store. 

"Y/n! Y/-" he yells almost tripping on thin air. 

"Dave?" you question, quickly turning towards him. Damn, you missed him. No! Yeah, you did… "What do you want?" 

"What do I- What, can't I talk to you?" 

"If you wanted to talk you would have in these past days!" you say. Yes, you might have missed him, but it's not like you're gonna show it. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I am waiting for my date to show up." 

"Your.. Your what, now?!" 

"My date" 

"You can't go on a date!" 

"And why is that, Lizewski?" 

"Lizewski? Really, you're calling me by my surname? Are we in such a bad place right now?" 

"I don't know, you tell me. Are you going to tell me what i can and can't do, hm?" 

"I didn't mean it like that. I just…" 

"What, it's fine when you say it but when I do it with you about Katie I'm the bad friend?" 

"No,it's just-" 

"Sorry. Matt's here." you point to the street across the road where you saw the boy walk towards you. "I gotta go." 

You start walking away but Dave grabs your wrist. 

"Please, don't." he mumbles. 

"Why not?" you snap at him but your expressions soften upon your eyes land on his saddened face. 

"I- because I don't want you with him. O-or anyone." 

You raise an eyebrow. 

"What?" 

He took a deep breath before looking around. Matt was waiting patiently by the traffic light so he could cross the road. Dave quickly began explaining. 

"You were right. About Katie. I was such a dickhead, I am so sorry, y/n. I am sorry for ignoring you over her and and.." from the corner of his eye he sees the traffic light turn green. "Shit! I don't want you to go out with Greendale cause I.. Because I like you. Like really fucking like you. And oh my god you look so fucking hot in this outfit, not that you're not always hot but holy shit. I know we are just friends and you don't think of me that way but I ju-"

"Oh my god! Do you ever shut up?" you yell before pressing your lips to his. Dave stumbled back a little, but quickly recovered and kissed back. Your hands cupped his face and his hands grabbed your waist in response. You both tilled your heads, deepening the kiss earning loud knocking from Marty and Tod as they watched the whole scene through the window. Not that you noticed any of it. You didn't hear the passing by car honk at you nor the yells or whistles. You also did not notice Matthew walking away with a sad smile after seeing the two of you. Your touches intertwine and you're pretty sure you heard Dave moan slightly which causes you to giggle into the kiss. You both pull away gasping for air. You look down at your shoes, hoping to hide your flushed cheeks. Dave scratches his back and looks around nervously only to see his two idiotic friends making kissy faces. He lifts his middle finger for them before clearing his throat. 

"So.. Khm.. I guess you like me too?" 

You let out a soft chuckle.

"Yeah, I do." you say looking at him with a smile.

"That's.. Fuck. That's great." he replied genuinely happy. "Wanna get out of here?" 

You nod and you take off. You take Dave's hand and he intertwines your fingers with a smile. Maybe he is truly a superhero. He helps people and he gets the girl of his dreams. The happy ending. 

Dave Lizewski taglist : @sethcohenluvr @your-hispanichufflepuff

#dave lizewski x reader #Dave lizewski one shot #dave lizewski imagine #kick ass imagine #kick ass x reader #kick ass one shot #gif not mine #aaron taylor johnson #alias imagines

[keilemlucent]

pretty eyes & starshine: i

(NSFW)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

part i   ||   part ii   ||   part iii

beta’ed: @shadowworks & @keiqos​ (thank you!! 💞)

word count: ~9.4k

Keigo surrenders to losing himself in the blank-walled, temporary home he inhabits. He finds familiarity in the routine of aches, pains and pills. 

You’re his only solace. 

warnings: bodily trauma, medical trauma, PTSD, dissociation, suicidal ideation, alcohol as a coping mechanism and graphic description of sustained injury

a/n: oh wow so here it is, big sad fic :’^) part one!! it’s canon divergent from manga chapter 296 onwards.

this one has been a long time coming. please mind the warnings!! this fic deals a lot with trauma and mental illness in tandem. the warnings are going to change with the coming parts, so please be mindful. i don’t wanna get too sappy, but this piece has been my Baby for the past few months, and i’m excited to finally share. that being said, enjoy loves 💞

Everyone is fucked up after the War.

There is no kindness in an aftermath like this one, not so soon, and certainly not with dried blood of old comrades and mud still caking under its metaphorical fingernails. The world was in shambles, and every hero is along with it.

There is something horrifying about being at the center of it all, Hawks, no, Keigo thinks solemnly, all too often. 

He’s used to the attention he’s getting, touches and poking and prodding by near strangers. Except, he was used to exclamations of how great and powerful and remarkable he was. Now, all the attention he receives is followed by little sighs and sad, broken eyes.

He’s sure he looks equally as sad; Keigo had been nothing but an empty shell since the War had ended and he’d been carted off to his hospital room. Numb despite all of his burns. 

It’s the shock, he tells himself, he’ll snap out of it any day.

Any day.

...

And it is any day.

He wakes up to screaming from the next room over, agonized wails that pierce the air as his morning nurse enters. She’s over-worked and haggard while checking his vitals with a forced smile. They don’t make conversation with him much anymore, and Keigo doesn’t have the energy to try and force it. There isn’t enough in him to pretend that he’s okay enough to banter with folks. 

If he still had his wings, he would’ve wrapped himself up tight in the plumage and let himself rot away in some corner. He’d let the dissociated numbness fade, however long it took, and then succumb to whatever psychological wounds revealed themselves. 

Waste away, all alone.

But he doesn't have that luxury. He is in an overcrowded hospital with swarms of civilians and heroes, all stuffed in one place because the world doesn’t have the time to differentiate between the wounded, nor the space or resources to give different resources. Though, Keigo is a special case, hence why he’s had healers coming to him for the past three weeks since the War trying to coax his body into genesizing a new pair of wings. 

The Commission’s hospital has all the bells-and-whistles that a medical professional could need, but Keigo, and so many others, are facing problems that don’t have good and easy roads to healing. 

That’s assuming healing was even possible.

Keigo is convinced, has been convinced, that there is no way to come back from the War, nor the absence on his back, nor the shouts and cries of pain that echo around the hospital like a new genre of music that Keigo so desperately wants to scrub from his brain.

Things change, it’s inevitable. Everyone falls eventually, and he was just used to flying.

It’s a harder descent. 

...

Keigo doesn’t meet you on any day, he meets you on a lonely night.

The evenings and early mornings were the most peaceful at the hospital. Most folks, three weeks after the end of it all, had serious enough injuries that they had to be somewhat sedated to sleep, either for physical or mental pain keeping them from sleep.

It’s morose, Keigo thinks, quietly and privately, but he craves those hours. All he hears then is the hum of air vents and beeps of his own medical machinery. None of the audible agony of the folks he was sworn to protect.

He’s slept most of the day, not lucid enough to do much else, and the nurses haven’t been giving him sedatives unless he asked (though he always did.) Without forced quiet, he’s antsy, fingers twitching and flaring the new (and growing) pains rooted in his (empty, isn’t that horrifying—) back.

He rouses himself, adjusting his scratching hospital garb (thin sweats and a cheap crew neck with the back almost entirely cut away). With his IV pole at his side, he resolves to take a few laps and quiet himself, hopefully.

(Keigo would need sedatives, he always did, but it was nice to play pretend that he didn’t. It made things easier for a precious hour or two.)

His laps are usually quick, despite how much his body aches when he walks. So much new, burnt tissue that needed to learn how to move, how to live again, kept him throbbing and gritting his teeth.

Masochism be damned, he keeps at it during his sleepless nights. Physical therapy wasn’t an option when the world was caving in with him at the epicenter.

There’s a common room at the end of the foyer of identical (filled) hospital rooms, just a collection of stuffy, uncomfortable couches that face an aged TV and a wide bay of windows. It’s rarely used, just a formality for when the space of the hospital had regularly hurt victims and heroes. When it wasn’t bearing so much weight. 

Sometimes, he would stop to idly regard the mostly barren world around the hospital. Far from the cities, a little hideaway for heroes and their loved ones to heal in privacy. Other than sheer distance, there is a thick, organic shield around the complex.  It’s a towering forest, man-planted with identical types of trees in perfect rows. 

It’s grim in its predictability. 

(When did he get so fucking pensive?)

(Oh yeah, too much time locked in his goddamn skull.)

He hadn’t been planning to have any inner musings that night.

But, that night, he notes that he is not alone. 

On one of the hard couches, you sit, with your own IV-pole companion and injuries, an arm carried in a monochromatic sling and set in a hard cast.

You turn to him, blinking wide eyes at him.

There’s a single lamp on, and the light dances in your eyes with its own unexpected rhythm.

Something compels Keigo to smile, cocky, like he used to, and greet you with a little wave, and a finger to his lips.

Your expressions melts, a hand going over your mouth to stifle a giggle.

It’s like you’re pulling him after that, he finds himself resting across from you.

You must look like a pair, he realizes. You’re greasy, he’s greasy. He’s got a fine layer of built-up stubble that shouldn’t be called anything other than impressive peach fuzz (not that Keigo’s seen it, he’s felt it. The idea of looking in a mirror makes him sick to his stomach. Though you don’t have any pseudo-beard, you’ve got your own unkempt look and feel that makes you two kindred without sharing a word.

It feels comfortable, warm.

“Hi,” you speak first, voice soft and gentle. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nah, who can?” Keigo replies, shaking his head. “But what about you? Midnight oil doesn’t burn without a cause, you know.” 

Your expression is also painful in the way it’s so open, yet worn (most everyone had locked up by now, the ones in the hospital and Keigo imagined the ones outside of it too.) 

“I like the sky— the stars are pretty.” You sigh, wistful. “I watch for shooting stars.”

The thought, the significance of that obvious wanting, makes something pang deep in his chest. Childlike hope in a place like this, foolish as well as frail.

“Trying to get a wish?” Keigo clicked his tongue. “Smart.”

“No, no— wishing doesn’t... suit me, right now.” You snorted, shaking your head, the light in your eyes dancing, “I just think they’re pretty.”

Keigo blinks, unable to stop the way his eyes widen.

Your posture reads nothing but earnestness and vulnerability, so freely given (so undeserved) without a hint of pullback.

“What do you want to be called?”

“... Excuse me?” Keigo is not used to his thoughts being interrupted in the blanket of dark that he feels most comfortable in. Your words shock him enough with their meaning, let alone the way you’re so brazen. 

“I, uh,” You stumble on your words. “I know who you are, but I also saw that whole broadcast, which I’m going to easily assume you don’t want to talk about. But, I don’t know how much you want to be called ‘Hawks’ at this point either.”

His mouth is dry.

“So, I ask instead,” You lean forward, your IV line pulling the slightest bit and you wince. His discomfort must be very fucking apparent, because you backtrack in moments. “... Or, neither. I can call you something else, too.”

“... A nickname, for someone you don’t even know?” Keigo, Hawks, whoever he is now struggles with words. There’s too many, and they’re all too fast, and he doesn’t have his wings to catch up to them or outrun them— 

“Yeah, why not?” You shrug with a lazy smile. “I’ll call you... pretty eyes. How about that?”

Keigo does have pretty eyes. They’re gold, light and glittering amber in the lowlight. Before he, ya’ know, lost them, and when things were good, but awful, but normal, he darkened the organic marks around his canthi with liquid eyeliner. He liked makeup, prettied himself up and accentuated all the good he had. Preening.

None of that is left, just what organically was on his skin, and he hasn’t seen it in its raw state in years, and like fuck if he was going to look in a mirror just to figure out if his natural eyeliner was half as good as that by his own hand. 

“Sure, that works,” He relaxes, mirroring your expression like the practiced... pro he is. “What do I call you, starshine?”

You roll your eyes, but nothing about you fades as you tell him your name, something that calms and fills him, “But, you can call me starshine if you want. Sounds nice.”

It’s sweet.

So, Keigo greets you.

“Nice to meet you, starshine.”

...

That’s the first time you kept each other’s company. Most of it is quiet, you truly do just want to watch the stars. Keigo did with you, tracing the shadows of clouds and moonlight with his eyes.

(Occasionally, his gaze shifts to you, regarding your figure with the same care for only a moment before returning to the sky you both miss.)

Eventually, the quiet heat of it puts him half to sleep, and he bids you goodnight.

You wave goodbye, rising as he away.

The light isn’t in your eyes anymore, and your warmth feels a little too far away.

...

The next days are long.

He slips into that shell-state again, where he’s a husk that stares emptily at the ceiling as the Commission tries to piece him together to a fraction of what he once was. 

They fail, each time, because no healer they’ve brought can regenerate quirk-formed appendages, but he commends their efforts all the same. It’s out of desperation, sure, but he’s heard whispers of the new generation. In recalling his own sidekicks, he isn’t as scared for the future. 

(Everyone else’s future. He’s so terrified of his own that he turns extra numb if he thinks about it.) 

Selfishly, he just wants his wings for himself. They’d keep him plenty company. If he ever did get them back, he’d fly somewhere, faraway and alone to live out his days under his feathers and feel as empty as he wanted. 

They fuss over him all day, not knowing those desires. They are private, and he only puts on his old, self-confident bravado so they don’t lock him up somewhere to have his brain picked and to fill the new holes with pill-shaped gauze. 

As established, Keigo was content to rot.

(He can’t fully parse all of his feelings and they consume him.)

The healers for the week all failed, doing nothing but making his back bow and burn. It’s painful. Obviously, trying to stitch a body back together, or rather making a body make when it was so tired of creating—

(Feather after feather after feather, for how long?)

He’s glad his sessions are in a different room, a spare, horrifyingly metallic exam room across the hospital. It reeks like iron and isopropyl alcohol, but Keigo doesn’t mind. The filmy paper that rolls from the exam table gets soaked with his sweat as opposed to his familiar bed dressings. 

Not to mention, it’s nice, not having to hear his neighbor’s screams and pleadings to God, any god, for reprieve. Calming. 

(He feels less guilty. Less like it was his own hand that scarred up their bodies. If he can’t hear them, he only thinks of his own agony under ‘helping’ hands.)

His body is exhausted at the end of each day, and even his restlessness fades with the necessities of his body.

He doesn’t see you, and practically forgets about you.

It’s a week or so later when he takes one of his strolls, and finds you tucked away into your nook, dimly lit and with a blanket over your lap.

Keigo feels it as he nears you, that comfort that your expression bleeds into his very soul. Even as he watches your healthy hand nervously toy with the thin knit in your lap, it doesn’t dim you.

The lamplight dances in your eyes as you nod to him, “Fancy seeing you here, pretty eyes.” 

“You’d never know it, but I live just down the hallway— me,” He touches his chest proudly, surprised by his own jest. 

You gave a fake gasp, mirroring him easily, “Never knew I had such a well-known soul in my neighborhood. Forgive my transgression.”

Bending at the waist, as much as you can with your right leg extended, straight, you choke on laughter.

Keigo follows you in it, giggling, genuinely giggling, high and light and girlish like he’d never heard from himself before.

He snapped his mouth shut, thickly swallowing and shaking his head.

“No need to be shy,” You assured him with an affectionate turn of the head. “You have a lovely laugh.”

“Now you’re just flirting with me, cute.”

Your head tilted farther, confused, “I’m simply being kind to you.”

Why didn’t he have the snark to reply to that? Probably because he was half-dead and on painkillers for nearly a month. He’d beat himself up about it later, maybe.

There wasn’t an ounce of malice in your tone, just earnestness that tugged at his own insecurities.

You backpedaled. “How was your day?”

Keigo takes a few moments to respond, shaking his head without mind to the way his too-long hair flops in his face. 

The banter isn’t forced, but it’s not welcomed yet.

As comfortable as you feel to him, Keigo isn’t comfortable.

“Same old, same old,” Living hell. “Boring, mostly. Painful, but dull. It’s crazy how much hell smells like cheap disinfectant, huh?” 

You agree, quietly, “I’m pretty sure there’s many hells in this place.”

Keigo doesn’t know how to respond, so he doesn’t. 

You both regard the stars again with growing reverence. Specks of light dance back in your eyes as you both settle into the hard cushions like they were made of goose down and Sherpa. 

...

Your conversations are... disjointed, to say the least. 

There’s an inability for words and phrases to flow between you. There’s starts and stops, stalls like an engine that putters on tarry oil without ever truly firing. There are good feelings, still, safety in silence before words as you stargaze together through the comfort of a window.

It should feel disarming, to be so far from the sky yet have no way to reach it. And it is, but Keigo can swallow the reality these days. It’s easier when there’s someone on the mend close by, sharing in the discomfort of a rawed mind and the comfort of a yellow-toned fluorescent bulb.

It’s unspoken kinship. Keigo never had time for it in the past, but now it was all he had. There had to be some cruel irony in it (as if there wasn’t enough in his life), but he couldn’t make himself mind. 

Everything he’d once excelled at, everything he had was gone. He was barren and stripped (don’t think about it—), exposed to the elements in all the worst ways. At least the hospital was clean and safe, relatively. 

It feels safest with you near.

Sure, your conversations were clearly that of two horribly broken people, but that wasn’t new or surprising. It simply was.

“Do you know constellations?” You ask one night, a colder one, where you’ve got two blankets over your lap. 

Keigo thought for a moment, “A handful, but I never took to stargazing, you know?��

You don’t relate, just chew your lip, the light of the dim lamp dancing across your irises.

“Can I show you some?” 

“...Constellations?”

“What else?” You crack a smile. “Come on, pretty eyes.”

Whatever you’d like, he’d do. 

He can’t refuse, he’s already getting weak for you. 

Shifting, Keigo joins you on your typical couch for the first time. Your IV poles, thrumming and humming their own rhymes harmonize, quietly and mostly imperceptible. 

You regard him even more warmly, so close, a little smile playing on your lips.

“What’s your sign?”

Keigo deadpans, “What?”

“Like... astrology. What’s your sign?”

You wiggle your eyebrows, knowing the double-meaning of your words. 

Flirting again.

Since when had he been so bad at it?

“Capricorn,” He huffs back. He keeps his back off the stone-like cushions of the couch— his scarring had been itchy the whole day prior— so itchy— 

You tap the plastic-y fabric gap between the two of you, grabbing his attention, “Hey, pretty eyes. Stick with me, let me show you where that one is.”

So, you do.

Your light-filled eyes trace the sky’s nighttime freckles, searching until you find what you’re looking for.

“There,” Your finger raises, tracing the patterns in the air. “That’s Capricorn, can you see?”

Not really, the stars are just a meaningless smatter. If there’s some sort of pattern he’s supposed to find, he comes up with none. 

“Not in the slightest,” Keigo rolls his eyes. “Show me again?”

You don’t reply, but rather scoot a bit closer, mirror his hunch and pose with precision and tiny adjustments. 

He doesn’t dare to breathe as you carefully grab his arm, extending it. You lay your cheek over his bicep, watching from the closest view to his own that you could. 

“Do you see now?” 

The only starlight he sees is right in front of him, soft cheek pressed against atrophying muscles. Sharing your heat so graciously as you would so easily come to, you chatter about the stories that are written in the stars, by all cultures, for so long.

Keigo hears, but he’s far more focused on how he wishes you were even closer.

...

After that night, you always share the same couch. 

You face forward, right leg always extended and stiff-looking. Keigo doesn’t mind, hardly notices. He faces you, fragile back bandaged and kept away from the unforgiving grit of the uncomfortable couch. It looks a bit uncomfortable, the posing of it all, but with the words flowing easier, neither of you mind.

You keep showing him stars, the constellations you can remember and see in the night sky. 

Keigo makes fun and crafts his own, connecting new dots and winding stories about them.

“See those three there?” He guides your hand, close enough to share your breath. “That’s the comb of the chicken. Star comb, if you will.”

You snort, rolling your eyes and pulling your hand from his grip, “There’s no cock in the stars, pretty eyes. Chickens can’t fly anyways.”

You both freeze.

Keigo’s mouth goes dry—

Chicken can’t fly.

As much as you’re both learning to be human again, there isn’t talk of your injuries. Maybe, there’s mutual curiosity (you’ve been here two months. just for a broken arm, why?), but like fuck Keigo wants to broach the subject.

“S-sorry,” you stumble over your words, physically retreating. “Shouldn’t have said that.”

It is a fact, chickens can’t fly, but Keigo isn’t a chicken. He’s a debauched, defamed hero whose home is the same set of a milky white, hospital ward walls. Once, a real hero, before the war, before selling his morals just for a chance at rest, before blue flame— burning— 

“Pretty eyes,” Your voice trembles, shaking and lonesome. “Come back here, now. Come on.”

You’re holding his cheeks, unkempt nails pressing (blessedly) a bit too hard into his cheeks. The heat of you is so close, almost scalding him, but he wants more of it, more of the heat that doesn’t burn—

“You’re okay, pretty eyes, s-see?” You hold yourself together, jerking your head to the wide window and glittering stars. “We’re just stargazing.” 

Keigo’s has tears leaking down his face, but neither of you acknowledge them. You release him, quietly spinning another tale about a hero hung in the cosmos. He thanks you for it silently by tugging you into his side. 

(It was the first night you really touched him.)

(The light in your eyes was so close, he wanted it all for himself.)

...

They’re running out of healers to try.

From the weakest to the strongest quirk, no one could revive his dead wings. There was no root to push from the scar tissue, nor resolve left in Keigo to try and make new pins and feathers sprout.

His back isn’t fertile. It’s just as poisoned as the rest of him.

...

He wonders where you disappear to during the day. He takes his strolls then, too. Waves to nurses these days, not charming, just friendly, trying to make a little brightness. 

There’s one day where he asks one of the nurses he knows best for a pair of scissors.

She looks at him, worried, “Don’t tell me we need to put you on psych watch.”

“What? No,” Keigo shakes his head, shaggy hair quivering around the frame of his face. “I just need a bit of a haircut.” 

“... We can ask the Commission to bring someone in—”

“I can do it myself.”

She doesn’t argue with the firmness of his voice, rather, she hands him a pair of safety scissors with bright purple handles. They’re for a child, but Keigo’s fine with that. They’d do. 

When he was younger, and in a pinch (and so poor he tried to eat grass and lick scraps from metallic packaging of discarded junk food wrappers) he’d cut his hair with his own feathers.

Safety scissors would be even easier.

It did mean that he had to confront his own visage, which he had gotten too good at avoiding.

The bathroom in his room is small, it would’ve been claustrophobic if he was still carrying a twenty-five-foot wingspan. 

But, he isn’t. It was just him and the scars on his back that he definitely wasn’t ready to see. 

He’s caught glimpses of himself over the past weeks, but nothing substantial. No view that would’ve given himself time to scrutinize over his imperfection. 

The dull hospital mirror reveals too much about him. It feels too vulnerable, makes his chest tighten, as he stares himself in his ‘pretty eyes’.

Purple stamps below his eyes, probably not from sleeplessness itself, just the sheer exhaustion of living. The one under his left is an odd maroon color, mixing with the scar that is burned into that half of his face.

The skin was once soft, plump cheeks always tended too and well taken care of by expensive skincare products. Now, it’s charred and gaunt. Healing, but still obviously scarred heavy and deep.  The weak beard he’s been growing (accidently) is patchy around the thickened tissue. 

It bothers him— 

It doesn’t look like him in the mirror. 

It helps to take care of himself for the first time in a long while. 

He shaves with the cheap foam and single blade razor they’d given him in the toiletries pack the first days he was there, while he was still numbed out and half-dead. The metal glides over his skin, stripping away the numbness just a little. The stubble and cream slide down the drain and away.

His hair is different. The waves had for so long been pushed back and held that way with the winds of his flights. The longer, feathery patches now hang around his face, dangling down and mingling with the too-long sections that curl over his ears and down his neck.

Wetting his hair, he cuts away what he can. 

It’s blunt, messy, and not elegant. 

All the same, the trim feels good. 

Though, his mood goes sour when the screaming starts for the day.

The far wall of the bathroom was shared by him and his shrieking neighbor, and he took great care to never shower when they were singing their awful chorus. It grates on his ears; he should’ve been a bit empathetic to their suffering, but he didn’t care that much. It was so regular, that the screaming that might’ve once sent each one of his feathers (don’t think about, don’t fucking think about it) sharp as the razor in his hand, didn’t bother him in the slightest.

Just a poke at his temple, a jab and a drop of water that irks him more than anything else.

It is a... somewhat pleasant distraction. He can focus more on his fellow patient than his own haggard appearance, the scar, the lack of red at his back— 

It’s all okay, ‘okay’, until the patient starts babbling.

“M-make it stop!” 

Keigo stills.

A scream tears through the drywall. Even without his wings, it makes him thrum, far-too sensitive.

“Help!” The voice yelps. “HELP!” 

There’s a thud and thump from the other room.

“Please, please!”

Keigo’s heart stutters in his chest, and the razor falls from his hand, clattering into the sink.

“MAKE IT STOP!”

It’s you.

It’s your screaming and shrieking that’s burrowed in his ears. It’s your voice that’s trembling in desperation that has him running out of his room, nearly pulling out his IVs as the pole teeters and follows behind him. 

Why are you screaming?

Why have you always been screaming?

A nurse is trying to stop him, urging him to settle but he can’t. There's an urgency in his chest he hasn’t felt since back before and he has to heed it. He needs to.

He pulls his forearm from the nurse’s grasp, hissing in his own pain, muscles pulling and aching with disuse but he doesn’t care.

The nurses drag him back from your door, and they almost have him, almost have him on the ground.

And then he smells burning—

Cloth.

Flesh.

And something in him snaps.

He clocks the nearest nurse with a tight fist, ignoring his atrophied muscles and kicking with everything he could muster.

They release him, probably out of shock. (He’d been such a model patient, so complacent and quiet until then.) 

Then, he stumbles into your room, and sees you, and wants to die.

...

There’s plenty of times in his life where Keigo felt like an animal. When the Commission first got their hands on him, they took to studying and picking his quirk about to figure out the most efficient way to rebuild it to their needs and uses. Now then, he felt very much like an experiment, only half-human. He was too young to really ‘get’ it, but the feeling persisted.

Sometimes, he felt similarly when he played celebrity. The talk shows, the modeling and media felt hoops he had to jump through just to get a decent night’s sleep. It was an additional job aside from heroics, one he excelled at and entertained him. But that didn’t mean each flash of a camera didn’t suck him dry of a bit of his dignity. 

He was sure you had to be feeling similarly.

You’re writhing and arching in your bed, curls of smoke rising from your papery hospital gown. Every machine in your room is screaming with you, bloody and loud and angry—

And scared. Keigo recognized well, and it drove pins into his heart to realize it was you.

It’s even worse when he realizes some part of you is burning. 

At your bedside, he freezes.

Nylon straps wrap around your wrist, around your cast, and keep you held tight to the bed. You’re tied down, held to the plastic bed frame as you wretch and scream.

You don’t even notice him.

The smoke rises from your burning hospital gown. He rips it away, tears the burning section away with his shaking hand. It’s crass, and Keigo sees a bit too much.  The gauze wrapping your leg below is burning as well, in little veins of char that burns black and smoldering. 

Keigo tears it all away, he tears and tears—

And then he sees the wound.

He was trained, once, to see this type of horror and not bat an eye. That training was gone, and all that remained was his starshine with a writhing, molten wound.

Keigo is numb as the nurses drag him back to his room, trying to decide if he prefers the apathy and numbness to injury that his old heroism gave him, or the blinding pain of empathy when someone you... care about is hurt.

He can’t decide which he’d rather suffer with. 

...

You appear in the common room a few nights later.

Keigo still takes his walks in the late evening, even if you aren’t there. If anything, he needs them more. He’s restless, always listening for the screams or howls from the next room over. His annoyance towards them was gone, and all that remained was a concern that knotted in the pit of his stomach. 

There’s a sigh of relief on his lips when he finds you, nestled into a pile of blankets with your IV pole, watching the stars with sad eyes.

He joins you on your couch, cracking a decent joke that you don’t respond to.

Then, there’s silence.

It’s as loud as the stars are bright. The expanse of sound is filled by the hum of the cold air and distant beeping.

“I’m sorry,” Your voice shakes. “You shouldn’t have seen me like that. It’s not... Easy to look at. Or, I imagine it’s not.”

Keigo wants to rip the apology from your tongue and burn it.

“No, please, it’s alright,” He’s begging too much. “I get it.”

As much as he can, anyways.

You’re quiet again, biting your lip so hard it must be close to breaking skin.

“Can we... talk about things?” You ask, softer. “I can’t keep pretending.”

“...’Pretending’?” Keigo knows, but he selfishly wants to hear you say it.

“Well, you didn’t think I’ve been here for two months for my bum arm, right?” You laugh weakly. “And I’m well-aware that you don’t have wings.”

We just don’t talk about it. 

“It’s nicer to look at the stars and pretend everything’s fine,” Keigo lays the statement down and regrets it.

Your fist tightens, jaw clenching.

And there’s more silence.

It’s deafening to Keigo, he wants to speak, scream, but you’re quiet next to him. He can fill voids with his voice so, so easily, yet he turns in on himself.

“I know, it’s all hard,” Tears drip down from your words, though your cheeks remain dry. “I know, but there was a War two months ago, and we’re still holed up in a place like this, and we never talk about why.”

You turn to him, light dancing slowly in your eyes. Your lips part to speak, but no sound comes out.

“... I didn’t want to ask.” Keigo speaks, gaze shifting down to your leg. He questioned why a broken arm would keep you here, but you can’t just ask that. “It’s bad form to ask a stranger about their injuries unnecessarily when they’re traumatized.”

“But we’re not strangers, not anymore.”

Keigo can’t disagree. 

...

You had been in a conbini when Gigantomakia tore through your little suburb. It was a few miles away, but the ground shook as if the goliath was just outside the automatic doors.

Your demon was near, though.

It was a man from the PLF who tore into you so badly. Just some random, emboldened civilian who ascribed to Destro’s ideology hard enough to think about taking out his frustrations on ‘weaker-quirked’ individuals.

That meant the young couple getting slushies in the corner, the old man behind the cash register, and you.

(You’d told your roommate you’d be home quick to help her study—)

(Your roommate is dead, under several tons of rubble.)

“The old man died before the heroes even started trying to rescue anyone. The couple was begging each other to hold on, but only one of them lasted. He died within a few weeks of being taken here.”

There was just you.

You’d hardly been touched by the man, the fucking villain, who’d set his mark on you. But it was more than enough to leave a writhing scar.

Keigo asks to see it, and quietly, you oblige him.

You’re in a gown, you always have been. The hem of it is pulled up by your visibility shaking fingers, and slowly reveals the scar in the lowlight of the ever-present lamp. He’d seen it once, but that didn’t change how startling it was. 

It’s molten.

The skin is gnarled, twisting and scarred worse than anything Keigo’s ever seen. It was like the gore of a torn flesh was frozen over your right side, from your calf, to your thighs to your pretty hips—

“It goes higher, but that’s not exactly couth to show you,” you joke, but neither of you laugh. 

“... It’s not moving anymore?”

“Oh, yeah. It calms down, when it’s dark. Nighttime and all. It stops being so ornery.” 

Keigo has a laundry list of questions, but with the expression on your face that just bleeds exhaustion into the air, and the fresh burns from the restraints on your wrists, he keeps quiet. 

Maybe, three months ago, he’d jabber on about the injury, try to gode some information out on the villain, profile him, track him and beat the tar out of him for touching you—

But this is the present, and Keigo is a wingless soul. All he has is a prescription for painkillers on a rigid schedule, and the awareness that you both appreciate each other.

Keigo scoots to your uninjured side, lifting his arm up and around your shoulder. It hurts, it fucking hurts, but he doesn’t mind.

You tense for a moment, turning to him with wide eyes, scared like he’s never seen.

Then, you melt into him.

...

Keigo’s busy with healers the week, though none speak his language, literally. They’re international, foreign aid that’s been flown in to try to pick up the disaster of a society that’s been left in the wake of the War and the dissolution of Tartarus.

None of them make progress. 

As much as it burns (haha) him to his core, he’s accepting the reality, slowly but surely. 

...

Endeavor visits him.

It’s the morning after a particularly sweet night with you. You still sit together in the starlight, though you’ve run out of constellations to show him. It’s less quiet than it used to be, just little banter that flows between the two of you. It feels more genuine than his old bluntness, welcome after so much odd tension when you first started enjoying the heat of each other’s presence and the far-off stars.

You’d taken to spending time together during the day as well... As much as you could. Strapping you to your bed was for your own safety. Your broken arm had snapped the first few days at the hospital because of the severity of your spasms and flares. The nurses keep you wrapped up, but Keigo drags a chair close to your bed and talks to you as much as he can.

It helps you relax.

Though the days fill with tension as you try to negate the inevitability of your molten scar coming to life, nights remain calm.

And so, so sweet.

You’ve taken to tucking into his side, telling him little treasured facts about the cosmos. It’s easier to guide his eyes like that, as your cheek rests over his collarbone. 

It lingers with him, the feeling of your casual touch, so tentatively offered and so graciously received.

He traces his own constellations over your gown, mindful of the flesh beneath that heats beneath his palm when he gets too close.

After one of those wonderful, early nights, Enji Todoroki enters his room with all of the gusto one would expect. Which is not very much, but the sheer presence of him is enough to make Keigo quake.

 Just like the little boy from Kyushu, Keigo regards him with stars in his eyes. 

The hero, not a speck of flame on him (thank god) pulls up a chair near his bed. Keigo sits cross-legged and cocks his head to the side.

“What brings you to my neck of the woods, number one?” Keigo smiles.

“Number fifteen.”

“... What?”

“Since my injuries, I’m mostly on bedrest,” Enji replied, folding his hands on his chin. “I’m number fifteen now, and that number will more than likely just drop. I’m not much of a hero with only one lung. I’m planning to officially retire at the end of the month.”

Keigo’s chest goes tight and it feels like he’s joking. He tosses on a tight smile. 

“This is hardly time for a pillar—“

“I’m no pillar. I never was,” Enji sighs, running a hand over his scarred cheek. “The kids can handle this.”

Keigo breaks so easily these days.

“That’s not fair—” He had been tossed into this all too early and god it fucked him up— 

“Hawks,” Enji sighed. “There’s hardly anyone left to fight. They’re either dead, missing part of themselves, or gone.”

“So, you’re giving up?”

“If I didn’t, I’d die.”

Coward.

No, just honest and smart. 

“Since when are you this selfish?” Keigo’s own words surprise him, but he doesn’t back down. “And this wordy, number one? You’ve changed.”

He spits the last phrase like an insult. He hates himself for it and would hate himself even more for it later. 

Enji’s face remains solid and unwavering. The twitch in his brow is the only indication that Keigo’s words were even heard. 

“Since we lost, Keigo. Things have changed.”

Keigo knew, of course, but it didn’t stop the anger from rolling his belly.

“Oh, like I don’t fucking know,” If Keigo still had his wings, they would’ve been extended and fluffed, angry as the pinched skin of his forehead. 

This was his hero, he couldn’t be giving up too— 

“Rest, Hawks,” Enji stand up, “You deserve it.”

Seems Endeavor really died. Enji’s face is worn, his expression neutral and jaw slack. He looks hollowed out and empty, not an ounce or morsel of fight left in him, even for a flightless bird in need of some encouragement. 

There’s more to be said, but Keigo’s too angry to listen and Enji doesn’t have the energy to try. 

Whatever news the old hero had come to bring was left undelivered. 

...

You settle together the next few nights, both so damn tired, even though you’ve done nothing other than lay around a hospital for so-many weeks. 

The air always vibrates between the two of you, that comfortable warmth shared between mingling breath and senses. Light dances in your eyes, twisting and bouncing like something otherworldly.

(Maybe it is.)

Your fingers lace together, held in Keigo’s lap. You trace the others hand in relaxing little lines and shapes, trying to soothe each other’s wounds, always.

“One of the doctors said the scar might start shrinking,” You break the tender silence, nosing into his jaw in the same way an affectionate cat would. “They’re not entirely sure, but it’s been stable for a few days.”

Keigo’s feathery (don’t think about it) eyebrows shot up, “That’s amazing, and there’s only a few spasms this week, too.”

(He kept good tabs on you, he had to.)

You hummed in agreement, a sad smile playing on your lips as it so often did.

With a quick blink, the light bouncing in your eyes faded, and the world felt a bit colder.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I get out of here,” You pressed closer to him. “There’s shelters, and some cities are taking refugees, but I don’t—”

Your jaw clicks shut, brow furrowed and mood soured.

(Keigo, mind you, is still focusing on the lack of light in your eyes and the chill of the air in the room.) 

Something stirs, deep in his gut, but he doesn’t say anything. How Keigo used to have such a mouth, he didn’t know. These days, all he can is act, like somehow the loss of his wings came with the loss of his tongue.

Tugging you by the waist, mindful of the tender scar, he pulls you close, internally resolving.

...

She, the main Suit, visits him.

(It’s his last visitor at the hospital.)

There are no trumpeters, guards, or the like. It’s just the haggard president, matching Keigo with his dark circles and creased with new wrinkles and far-more grey sections in her slicked back hair.

The air stands still as she pulls up a chair, burying her head in her hands.

She, the Main Suit, has never been one to inquire as to how he is. Many of the others at the Commission were sweet, kind to him in youth, but she was all business. 

Some things never change.

She breaks the silence of the room, “... do you want to be done, Hawks?”

The cords in his chest tighten, gaze going sharper.

He doesn’t answer.

They meet each other’s gazes; twenty years of fucked-up emotion being shared between the pair of them.

“We’ve done everything. Every healer, every quirk, every treatment, conventional or otherwise,” she’s too soft. “There’s nothing left to try.”

He knew that, he had to know that, right?

His throat feels sticky as he swallows down bile, the scars on his back burning anew. It’s somatic, it has to be, but his flesh crawls and writhes just like yours. His starshine. He hates the way his mind is racing, just as fast as it always has, but his body lacks the ability to keep up.

He grounds himself in the thought of you, his starshine. Your body. Your heat. 

His narrow pupils refocus on the light tremble in her shoulders. 

“I’m being honest, so I’ll ask again,” She meets his gaze, grey eyes as soulless and full as ever. “Do you want to be done?”

“Well, obviously I can't fight—” 

“I mean it. All of it, Hawks. Maybe a few media appearances, but all this... shit. You’ve done enough.”

You’ve done enough. 

The words bounce around in his skull.

“Do you want to be done?”

Done with being a hero.

That’s all he’d ever been, right? That is him, he is Hawks, for fuck’s sake, no one other than Dabi (may he rot and die and immolate in hell) even called him his actual name in years.

Keigo is Hawks.

His mouth is dry, and he tries to ignore the tears pricking his eyes. He’s not sure why he’s beginning to cry, and definitely not sure why tension is draining from his shoulders as he sighs out an answer.

“I’ll be done.”

You’ve done enough.

...

Hospital beds are a hot commodity, and now that Keigo had thrown in the towel (along with everyone else) to stop trying with his wings, he was to be discharged within a few days.

(“Just a few more days to adjust your body to your new medications—”)

He’d stopped listening after that.

...

Your last night together is so bittersweet, you taste it on each other’s tongues.

You have an episode early in the day. Your screaming wakes the floor, the burning smell of flesh cementing that it was you.

Keigo’s only half-lucid when he shoves into your room, holding your hands while nurses desperately try to administer pain medication.

It’s too much for you, the crawling edges of the scar once again consuming you in the molten, glowing amber veins of heat that tore through you so terribly.

You sleep the day away. Keigo stays with you for much of it, stroking the bones in the back of your hands. 

...

He fucks you for the first time, that night. 

His own IVs have been removed, he’s to be discharged first thing in the morning—

And he wants one more night of stargazing, please, please—

(Why’s he clutching at you so dearly?) 

But you’re not in the common room. 

Rather, you’re under a few thin blankets, eyes tired and lightless. Your arm is out of its cast, laying over the bed clothes. It scares him shitless at first as he tentatively enters. It’s you though, and the moment you see him, it’s like a flame, a good one, heats the room full and wide. A few specks of light dance in between your irises as your skin crinkles in a gentle smile.

You both know he’s leaving tomorrow.

The knowledge settles in the room like a weight that neither of you can move. So, Keigo takes to it and does what he can.

As opposed to his normal perch next to his bed, he sits beside you, removing the restraints on your wrists and helping you to sit up.

Keigo fishes around in his pocket, pulling out a folded square of paper and placing it at your bedside. It’s his phone number, an odd detail. Relationships usually shared far-earlier.

But there is nothing linear or normal about the two of you, or the situation you both sit and stewed in.

You both are making peace with it at your own pace.

The bed creaks as you move to sit beside him, legs dangling from the bed. There’s gooseflesh beneath your gown, the boring pattern obscured by the darkness of the room, but the molten lines of the scar ever-visible.

“I’m glad you’re getting out of here.”

But I wish that you weren’t leaving.

His hand finds your waist, careful like he always is, but so giving in the same breath. 

“I am too. It’ll be nice to be.”

But I’m going to miss you.

It’s inherent, and has been forever. Since the moment you both stargazed in the common room and watched the worlds high above twist and shine without regard to your own hells, you’ve been ensnared in the other and neither of you have a want or need to let go.

Even with the inevitably of progress.

Keigo drowns in these thoughts, and has been since Endeavor visited and he was reminded of the harsh reality just outside of their tree-ringed prison. The reality he has to return to—

He presses his lips to yours, more desperate and needy than he had before.

Keigo had taken his share of you before, little pecks and the rub of the bridge of his nose over your jaw and cheeks. He had been a bit greedier with his hands, uncaring of the eyes of the night nurses when he’d touched you in the common room.

But he’s insatiable that last night.

The sheets of the plastic bed are too scratchy, they’re too harsh for you, and it burns Keigo to his core as he lowers you down. He cradles what he can, as your fingers latch onto his clothes (real clothes) and tug him as close as you can get.

The machines in your room cry, but they’re forgotten. 

You nip at his bottom lip, dragging yours across his clean-shaven jaw before laying into his neck with kiss after kiss. His muscles shake, holding him over you, both of you atrophied but uncaring.

You suck a deep, throbbing bruise on the fragile skin of his neck. It’s something dark that won’t fade for a week. The thought stirs something in his chest, a white-hot feeling that wants to crack his ribs and consume him. He doesn’t give in, he can’t—

“Stay with me, pretty eyes,” you whisper, so sweet and gentle as you push floppy strands of hair from his face. “Stay here, just for a little while longer.”

The reminder jolts him back, back to you, and the way your body (so tired, but unwavering) jumps and rolls under his touch. He’s a glutton for attention, always has been, but your particular brand and sounds keep pulse hot and hard. 

Shaky fingers pull his shirt over his head, sweaty palms push the gown over your hips. By the starlight, you’re both seeing too much of each other, but this is a goodbye, there’s no time to dwell on the discomfort.

Keigo tries to be careful as he adjusts your legs, tries to be mindful of the raw skin and flesh that makes you whine and half-writhe. You clutch at him, still trying to pull him closer despite the proximity and heat, like you need him as opposed to just wanting him. 

There’s no fanfare in it, just more rushed kisses and the swirling of fingertips over covered clit. You catch each other’s gasps in the mingling of breaths you share. It’s choking, suffocating, yet entirely not enough. You beg, quietly, for more. Your fingers latch onto his wrist and urge him to help pull your panties off and away.

More, more, more. 

By the time he slides into you, you're still tense, but so is he, and in a pile of tension and fear and wishful-thinking, you both come undone, and undone, and undone— 

...

Keigo leaves the next morning. 

The press is there, flash bulbs blinding him after so long with just fluorescents and starlight. He manages an easy wave or two, no autographs or gleaming smiles, just business and numbness that he needed to hold onto, so he didn’t fucking break.

He slips into the Commission’s car and leaves behind the hospital, you, and its wall of man-laid greenery and prays to forget it all quickly. He has enough to mourn. 

...

Keigo wants to off himself when he arrives back at his penthouse. 

How can he not?

His ‘home’ (if he couldn’t even call it that) is a dusty, time capsule of everything before. Before he got fucked up with the League, before the PLF, before the war, before Jin—

Every untouched bit of his life from when it was a few, precious fractions better stands unturned. A discarded jacket, wing slits visible and frayed. Scattered dead feathers that make his skin crawl. Memorabilia too, old merchandise that he never cared much about, but he definitely didn’t need to be seeing it now that ‘Hawks’ had burned up and died. 

All disgusting reminders. 

Something burning fills the base of his skull when his gaze fixates on one of the old plumes. He reaches out to touch the spine of it, instinctually expecting a little jolt of feeling from it, like he always had. 

But there’s nothing. It’s dead, decaying, and so is he. 

The reality of it breaks him, quick, hard and hot. He burns alive a second time. 

He clears the liquor cabinet while blaring music from his over-priced stereo system loud enough to make his ears ache and throb. The music isn’t drowning anything out, but it’s better to pretend.

He finds a bottle of old pills and downs them with a few swigs of expensive whiskey and lets go.

...

When he comes to, he’s staring into a smashed mirror, with his own nails crusted in blood from thin welts in the skin of the scar on his face.

Much to his chagrin, he hasn’t forgotten anything. The memories of blue flames, red feathers, and the smell of your skin mixed with isopropyl alcohol feel brighter than ever. He grounds on them as he sobers up, latching onto the pain of his scar tissue and the solace you gave. 

And won’t ever give him again.

Something in him wilts as he defeatedly goes to his phone, arranging any number of things to get him the fuck out.

...

The penthouse is sold, his more important belongings gathered in bland boxes. 

And he leaves. There’s no sentiment holding him there, not anymore.  

Fukuoka is gone and some distant memory as he drives (yes, he forgot that he had that skill) him and his things to his new home.

His penthouse had been immaculate. Crisp interior design, new shapes and colors that were on trend. He was hardly home to appreciate the modern beauty of it, but he’d received enough compliments from random hookups to know that it landed aesthetically.

But honestly?

Who the fuck cared?

His penthouse had been sold to the highest bidder and far behind as he arrives at his new, high home in the sleekness of his far-too fancy, disused car.

...

...

He gets a call from an unknown number, another one, on some snowy day, deep in winter. 

Keigo debates answering it. He almost lets it slip to voicemail. The only calls worth answering are the handful from the Commission that he has to heed, or the odd one from Rumi, Fuyumi, and on occasion, Endeavor.

Not random numbers, he has no patience for it. 

Yet, he answers it lazily.

“Washed up hero, how can I help you?”

“P-Pretty eyes?”

His heart stutters in his chest, he swears— 

“Starshine?” He sounds breathless, the air leached from his chest as he white-knuckles his thighs.

He’d given up on you contacting him, yet there you were, or at least your voice, mechanical and high bouncing around preciously in the walls of the cabin

There’s a moment of silence, nearly, just your light breathing that receiver picks up.

Your voice trembles when you break it, “Y-yeah, it’s me, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to call—”

You don’t need to be sorry; he would wait for you forever, and then some. 

“I d-don’t actually have a phone? Mine got trashed, uh, back then. I’m on the hospital’s line.”

Keigo hadn’t really considered that, he’s slipped the paper with his number on your bedside without a thought. 

How much had you lost?

“No worries, chickadee,” Keigo is sure his smile is audible. “Why call now? Miss me too much?”

He had no idea.

You laugh, though it soured as you spoke, “I get discharged tomorrow.”

Keigo’s heart seizes again and he’s sure he’s going to go into cardiac arrest.

“The guy who gave me the scar and all? He fucked up a few other people, word eventually got here. Once the scar stops... glowing, it rests. If you make it until then, you’re good.”

And alive.

“The whole injury is stable, has been for a week now,” Surprisingly, there’s no relief in your voice. “They need my bed, so they’re releasing me.”

No, no, no.

Where will you go?

Keigo doesn’t say it, but the question hangs in the air and is quickly answered.

“They got me a spot in one of the shelters close by... It’s only a couple hours by train!” You try to sound happy, but it’s so hollow and unnatural; it makes Keigo physically sit up.

No, no, no.

That won’t do.

“... What won’t do?” 

Keigo hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud.

Something is buried in his chest, something warm and molten, like the old veins of your scar, just kinder and better. It’s full of urges, so seldom used, selectively as needed throughout his career as a hero.

The need to keep something precious safe. 

The thing hasn’t thrashed in months.

Yet now? It’s practically screaming.

“Pretty eyes?” You sound scared through the phone. “A-Are you alright? I can call back—”

“No, don’t, do not.” Keigo lets the flame fill his chest, welcoming it. “You’re not going to that shelter.”

He has something to protect.

“I don’t have another choice—”

Someone.

“You do.” Keigo keeps his voice even, the muscles in his back writhing. If he still had his wings, they’d be puffed out and large. Impassioned with feeling he finally let breath between his ribs. “I’ll come get you, tomorrow.”

“... P-Pardon?”

He doesn’t hesitate, and for a moment, he starts to feel like his old self. 

“Come home with me, starshine.”

++++++

thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed!! 💗

look out for parts 2 and 3!!!💞

ko-fi

#salem writes #hawks x reader #hawks #takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #hawks x you #takami keigo x you #hawks fanfic #hawks imagines #my hero academia #mha x reader #anyways tag wall #enjoy loves #smorch