#I made it clear what I wanted in the beginning of your fragile ass couldn’t handle it you should’ve just walked away

[pastxlscorp]

Bully! Mitsuya Fanfic (pt.3)

Chapter III: Abidance

✿ Word Count: 3.2k

✿ Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x reader

✿ Topics covered: (Eventual) Enemies to lovers trope, Hakkai POV, Y/N POV, Mitsuya POV, tsundere-Mitsuya, bully! Mitsuya, fem. reader, minor manga spoilers, slight angst

Awakening from his slumber, he found that the woman was no longer taking up space in his bed. He heaved a sigh of relief, only to, unfortunately, see a message from an unknown number on his phone saying “Text me when you’re free ;)” Ignoring the text, he found he had a message from Hakkai and remembered that he had abandoned him to sleep with that damn woman. However, Hakkai didn’t confront him about it, but instead acted as if nothing happened.

🗨️ Hakkai: Is the party still on for today? (Sent 2:00am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: Yeah, sorry about yesterday. I wasn’t feeling my best, I should have let you know. (Sent 10:00am)

🗨️ Hakkai: No hard feelings. Ya feeling better now Taka-chan? (Sent 10:01am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: Not really, but it’ll pass. What’d you end up doing yesterday after I left? (Sent 10:02am)

Picking up on the subtle curiosity of Mitsuya’s text, it became clear to Hakkai that he did see him with you. As much as he admired Mitsuya, the anger building inside of him got the best of him. Therefore, in response, he chose a reply that he knew would get Mitsuya boiling.

🗨️ Hakkai: Caught Y/N outside of your class, had a wonderful lunch with her! She’s so nice, Taka-chan! Why are ya so mean to her? (Sent 10:04am)

Vigorous fingers typed in reply.

🗨️ Mitsuya: Why the fuck were you hanging around that slut? She’s just gonna try and get in your pants. What did she say to you? (Sent 10:04am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: Hakkai? Hello? (Sent 10:05am)

🗨️ Hakkai: Sorry Taka-chan, I’m back. She didn’t say nuthin bad, actually she was so sweet. She saw I was alone and we both had some tea together back at her place. Ended up sleeping over, I’m still here actually! (Sent 10:05am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: BACK AT HER PLACE? I told you, she’s just trying to get in your pants and you let her win! I can’t believe you let a whore like her win you over, Hakkai! Where the fuck is your brain? She probably was enjoying every minute of your sorry ass. (Sent 10:05am)

🗨️ Hakkai: Who said we slept together, Taka? (Sent 10:05am)

Silence enveloped the room.

🗨️ Mitsuya: Sorry… I just assumed that’s what you meant by sleeping over. (Sent 10:07am)

🗨️ Hakkai: Awh, it’s okie Taka, I know you were only looking out for me. (Sent 10:07am)

Absolutely, looking out for Hakkai. That’s what this was, that’s what he was doing. There couldn’t have been any other reason why he was so upset at the thought of you sleeping together. He was just being a good friend.

-----

┃ “Y/N!” the hoarse voice spoke to you, feeling the smooth cloth of his jacket pressed against your face as you bumped into him.

You looked up only to recognize Hakkai, kind thoughts flooding your mind, diminishing your anger stemming from your interaction with Mitsuya moments before. He grinned at you giddily, eyes relaxing any sort of tension left in your body. You slowly began to forget why you were mad and allowed yourself to indulge in his presence.

┃ “Good afternoon Hakkai! Waiting for Mitsuya?”

┃ “Mhm, you takin’ Designer 101 too, right?”

┃ “Yup! How come you aren’t taking it? You’re very fashionable, y’know?”

┃ “You’re too kind,” He giggled, his grin beginning to somehow grow wider on his cheeks as he raised his hand to pat your head.

┃ “I’m serious! Why don’t you join the class? It’s not too late, the second semester is about to start!” You eagerly pushed on, rejoicing in the positive energy he emitted.

┃ “ ‘m not really into making clothes, just showing them off...” He let out a hefty chuckle before getting cut off by you.

┃ “You don’t have to be good at making them! Some students choose to learn how to stylize different clothing and patterns, it’s all about the latest trends.”

┃ “Really?” He went silent for a few moments, smile morphing into a straight line as he contemplated your words carefully. Not to fret, as his smile quickly returned as he said: “Well then, might have to ask Taka-chan to help me sign up!”

You both shared a laugh and began to discuss the enrollment process in order for Hakkai to join the class-- if he were to drop another class, what class would he drop, or would he simply add it to his current schedule? While your conversation was nothing more than an innocent developing friendship, unbeknownst to you, Mitsuya had witnessed it all and declared it once more another betrayal. You were such a slut, flirting with anyone and everyone. Irrationality began to consume him-- instead of seeing your interaction with Hakkai for what it truly was, a genuine developing friendship, his brain refused to comprehend your behavior with other men. He never got to the level of comfortability you had with Takemichi, and he had lost the sense of ease you had with him to Hakkai and god, god did it piss him off. Unfortunately for that kohai, she was just another doll for him to play with just until he could get your attention again. Even a single drop of your attention, your attachment, it was enough to drive him for weeks just to be able to be near you again. Your kind words squeezing his heart tighter and tighter the more you spoke, your laughter ringing in his ears at a corny joke he told you during club meetings, it enveloped him into infatuation which later developed into a larger feeling. Such a large feeling over the progressing months that when he began bullying you, when your lack of presence and absences during meetings began to grow, an emptiness began to root in his heart, waiting for you to touch it once more and let it grow.

He could go on and on listing things about you-- the way he loved your sense of fashion, the way he loved your sense of humor, your compassion to helping others, your intellect that allowed you to read everyone like a book, everyone except him. Why couldn’t you see that he didn’t hate you? Oh, but that jealousy, the first time he’d admit that it was jealousy, it gripped him so tightly around his neck that it felt suffocating. Every shove, every clasp of your hand, your wrist, your chain, your chain, it made his heart shutter seeing that dead watery look in your eye, but your attention was like a drug that he just had to keep getting more of. It would never be enough to satisfy him, not until he could call you his and you would call him yours. He pitied using them, he really did, but he needed someone to satiate his needs. He was a womanizer, after all-- if one left he would just charm another into his bed. They all had high respect for Mitsuya, his intellect, his charm, his skill, and his kindness. Yet no matter how hard he tried, all those women, they were never you and they could never try and be you. He found that he no longer sought sex for his own pleasure anymore, but for your own, pretending so desperately that the one trembling out of pleasure beneath him was you. Imagining, no, fantasizing that he was making you happy and leaving you satisfied.

Upon seeing your interaction, he quickly left with his kohai for their own exchange, leaving Hakkai unfortunately confused as he waved you goodbye, patiently waiting for his friend to meet him. You were still on campus because you had taken additional extracurricular activities to build up your transcript to make up for your absences in Mitsuya’s Home-economics club. At first, you attempted to make it through the club meetings but he made every single one as unbearable as possible. The second semester, could it come any sooner? Hakkai, too focused on organizing his schedule with you previously, had failed to notice Mitsuya leaving with a woman. He waited, he waited, and he waited, coming to a good hour until he realized Mitsuya wouldn’t have left him waiting for this long without a heads up. He looked at his phone, expecting some sort of contact-- a phone call, a message, anything. All that awaited him was several unread messages from group chats and friends, none of them from Taka-chan. He sighed, placing his phone away just as he noticed your presence once more, planting a fake smile on his face to disguise his obvious disappointment. Unfortunately for him, his smile only instantly alerted you something was wrong.

┃ “Hakkai? Why are you still here, weren’t you supposed to be meeting Mitsuya?”

┃ His phony smile stood in place as tears began to fill his eyes. He croaked: “T-taka-chan left me. Do you think he’s mad at me for sumthin’, Y/N? I don’t ‘member doin’ anything.”

You instantly rushed over to comfort him, witnessing what appeared to be an intimidating giant become undone into a fragile teddy bear at the thought he had upset his best friend. Your disdain only kept growing for Mitsuya, first it was his lack of maturity during class, and now he had abandoned his best friend for whatever reason it was. Hakkai was a sweetheart, you couldn’t imagine what he may have done to upset someone. Therefore, you came to the conclusion Mitsuya had thrown a tantrum of sorts and took it out on him. It irked you, however, Mitsuya always remained respectful and loving to his best friend in addition to Yasuda-san, so you couldn’t help but raise your brow wondering what got him so upset for him to entirely ditch his friend. Pushing those thoughts aside, you placed all of your focus on bringing a smile back to Hakkai’s face, gently rubbing his back and placing your forehead against his temple as he crouched over in defeat. You desperately attempted to think of anything to cheer him up.

┃ “Ah, how about some tea?”

┃ “...Tea?”

┃ “Listen, I have absolutely no idea what you like and I want to calm you down so-”

┃ “Tea sounds good.” He said softly, a small smile returning to his face.

You escorted Hakkai comfortably back to your dorm, located on the east wing of the campus. Women and men could go to each other’s dorms, they just had gender-separated wings because it was just easier to contain the chaos if everyone was allowed to sleep with their girlfriend or boyfriend. The boys had their dormitory on the west side, thus you noticeably got some glances as you strolled with Hakkai. Mitsuya was always surrounded by Hakkai and Yasuda-san, so obviously most of your classmates were shocked to see you hanging out with his right-hand man. Were you both sleeping together? Ooh what a scandal (not). Although you didn’t mind the glanes too much, Hakkai on the other hand made sure to shoot down them all with a nasty side glare, quickly causing them to turn their cheek. It was a cute sight after all, seeing how you subconsciously had reached for his hand and began to rub gentle circles on it in order to ease him, which succeeded in doing so. Once you arrived at your dorm, you opened the door and gave him a show of jazz hands as you toured him around your dorm. Your dorm wasn’t the largest compared to his and Mitsuya’s dorm, which made him realize the privilege of not having a financially aided dorm. Your queen bed comfortably rested on the right side of the room, covered with a curtain and fairy lights on the wall behind it. Your desk was not too far away, maybe a good 15 feet across your bed, not too messy but not too neat. It was obvious you were working on something, as there were papers still out and scattered but the rest of the desk had the pens, pencils, and stapled papers sorted in a clean pile. Your pinboard was half-covered with your calendar, cluttered with small sticker reminders while the other half was your schedule, nicely decorated with washi tape sticking it to the board. Next to your bed was a wooden closet and you led him into the cramped kitchen that made him gasp, seeing how you make such a tight space so comfortable and presentable. You had a small glass coffee table in the middle, a small fridge cramped in the kitchen underneath a cupboard and next to a cabinet holding the sink on top. Next to that was a stove with a microwave on top, both color-coordinated black, contrasting the white of the room. You guided him over to the table and motioned for him to sit and he obediently did. Walking over to the countertop holding an old-school kettle, you used it to strain and brew the tea. Gleefully, you dropped a few ice cubes in his glass and carefully poured his tea and then your own, sitting across from him at the table. He took a sip of the tea you had placed in front of him, smiling not at the delightful taste but the awaiting face you had fixated, putting your hands under your chin waiting for a response.

┃ “This tea is delightful, thank you Y/N.” He said warmly and you basked in his praise.

┃ “Ah, sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the staring. I don’t… really get visitors. It’s nice to have someone over.” You replied, your face beginning to glow a light pink as your lips formed into a slight frown, embarrassed to admit how you had no friends.

┃ “Mm, I should be the one thankin’ you,” The softness in his voice made your crouched posture fix itself as you looked up to him. “You made me sum tea, opened me to your home, all ‘cuz I was sad and overthinkin’. You ain’t hafta do that, but you did anyway. I appreciate ya!” His iconic grin was now back where it belonged as his eyes glazed over you in pure adoration. You smiled in return, both returning to take a sip of your tea.

Hours passed and he was still at your house, you both gossiping and talking like old friends. You discussed your classmates, praising them and disapproving of the behavior of others. He began to confide in you about what he witnessed during his time as the second-division’s vice captain. You eagerly listened to him as he described to you his tales with his brother and his amazing sister Yuzuha, anything and everything was up for debate. At least, almost everything. Despite being the main reason he was so upset, you and Hakkai had not discussed Mitsuya’s treatment of you. He was mentioned in a few gang stories, but it seemed as if Hakkai was opting out of speaking about him out of respect for you. However, his head began to slump, implying he was tired. You grabbed your phone, which had been placed upside down on the coffee table, and looked at the time and saw it was well past midnight. You leaned over to rub Hakkai’s shoulder and you gasped when his head turned back upright, alert as if he just remembered something. Drunk on drowsiness, he began to speak:

┃ “Mmh, y’know Mitsuya used to talk about you a lot. Always went on about this pretty girl who was awfully sweet, really smart…” He trailed off, fighting off the sleep that clung desperately to his eyelids. “He never gave me a name but after club meetings when I woulds wait for him, he would tell me about his conversations. I always saw him looking at ya. What did ya do to make him so pissed off?” Although he had no malicious-intent in his questioning, it was enough to cause goosebumps all over your body.

┃ “I didn’t do anything, ‘kai. Really, nothing different happened that day. All of the sudden, the next day during his club he humiliated me in front of everyone and then made me stay after hours to yell at me even more.” You went silent for a moment, before your curiosity got the best of you and you questioned: “He used to talk about me? Are you sure?”

┃ Ignoring your question, he replied to your initial response. “You didn’t do anythin’ different at all that day?”

┃ You contemplated his question carefully, before realizing the one event that was an outlier to the rest. “I was waiting for my friend outside campus gates that day. He offered to wait with me but I insisted he didn’t, mainly because my friend had said Mitsuya wasn’t very fond of him so it was better if he didn’t see him.”

┃ “Who’s the friend?”

┃ “Hanagaki Takemichi.”

┃ The tired man in front of you took a full minute to process your sentence before bursting out and crying of laughter a few moments later. You looked at him, pure confusion coating your body as he continued to sob. Finally, after a few minutes, he wiped his eyes and sat back up, gleaming at you. “Well that’s your problem, Mitsuya fucking hates Takemichy. Probably spied on ya because he was worried, saw Takemichy, and boom-- he got jealous AHAHA!” He went back to crying of laughter, leaving you a few moments to yourself to process his words.

It was embarrassing to admit how Hakkai was half-asleep in front of you and somehow managed to put together your puzzle of confusion together months after said incident had happened, in under 20 minutes. However, you couldn’t find yourself disagreeing with his theory. Suddenly, Hakkai stopped laughing and looked up at you, all serious.

┃ “Now wait… that’s not funny! He’s been pushing ya around all the time just cuz he’s jealous of you being with other guys?! That’s fucked up! ‘M gonna beat his ass, Y/N! Just for you!”

You now began laughing, taking Hakkai’s hand in yours over the glass countertop and tapping it gently.

┃ “That won’t be necessary, ‘kai. How about we come up with a solution?”

┃ “My solution is beating his a-”

┃ “A non-physical solution.”

┃ He went silent for a few moments, looking away from you to the window to think. You could tell he thought of something when a smirk began to plaster itself on his face. “How about we test our theory?”

┃ “Elaborate.”

┃ “If that pain in my ass is done with whatever it is he’s doing, there was supposta be a party tomorrow. Not at our dorm, but our friend’s. You might have heard of him, Manjiro Sano?”

You responded with silence.

┃ “Mikey. The Invincible Mikey.”

┃ “Not ringing any bells.”

┃ “Brother of Emma Sano. Brother of Izana.”

┃ “Emma Sano is so nice!”

┃ “Captain of the Tokyo Manji Gang, Y/N.”

┃ “Oh.”

┃ “Point is, he’s having a party tomorrow. We could get some revenge, I bring you as my date~”

┃ “Won’t that make him angri-

┃ “That’s what revenge is.”

┃ “Why don’t I just talk with him?”

┃ “Has he tried talking to you?”

┃ “...no.”

┃ “I rest my case.”

Silence enveloped the room once more. It wasn’t an awkward silence, no, it was quite a comfortable silence actually as he patiently awaited your response and allowed you to process and think.

┃ “When is the party exactly?”

✿ tags: @haiq-trash @blackmysticalsimp @the2ndl @bren-heron @delicatejudgecopcowboy @skiwalkers

✿ a.n. // First of all, thank you so much for 102 followers <3 I appreciate the support being given to me! I would like to address one thing, however, please don't rush me to write! I've gotten very kind messages of support but others have been demanding more of me and it's important to remember that I have classes, chores, a social life, and many other things happening. I love writing but rushing me makes it unenjoyable and it won't be my best work. My goal for this ongoing fanfic is to post weekly. Just a little ted-talk there, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter though! I had such a fun time writing it :)

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[heli0s-writes]

Clumsy

Summary: Serendipity, it’s the only way Steve can describe it. His ma was right: he’d always been slow.

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader

A/N: Fluff with a tiny sprinkle of Steve angst because I love one sad boi. Written for @wkemeup​​‘s 4K Challenge like an entire year ago!! I’m so sorry, Kas!! The prompt was Bright Eyes’ “First Day of My Life”. 2.8k words.

It was supposed to rain.

Thunderclaps rolled in the distance all morning. Moisture hung heavy in the air and the earth smelled like wet already--- salty, thick, sweet. The app on his phone blinked gray clouds straight across the screen. Seventy-three degrees and a nine-five percent chance of precipitation. Winds NE 20 miles per hour.

But at 2:30 in the afternoon when Steve slides into the car, it’s clear and blue.

So he figures it’s coincidence and poor meteorology when the engine quietly rumbles to life. He fixes the collar of his shirt, checks for hotels around the midway point, and sends an uneasy look to the empty passenger seat.

Then, he makes his way to where you are.

-

The two-lane country road stretches on. Winding and curving, pitch-black and howling with wind and wildlife. Bugs splatter on the windshield and he mechanically sprays a bit of fluid, wiping them off, the squeaks giving his radio a bit of rhythm in all this late-night talk. It’ll be another half hour before he gets to the hotel and he’s still wrestling with himself if he should even break.

No reason to now. He can drive all night. No reason to other than his pride.

“So what is it?”

There’s an imprint in the seat. An outline of a warm body folding soft creases in the leather. Late night talk radio fizzles out, and he’s tired, so he can’t get too upset at his brain for seeing the shape even though it’s been months since anyone’s sat there.

He chances a look over, then quickly back ahead because sure—the sedan is small, but this tiny strip of pavement feels even smaller. Too right and he’ll careen into the woods, too left and if another car’s coming around the bend Steve would roll out alive, but he’d be the only one.

He looks again.

Legs folded. Bare feet. Ankles crossed on the dash. Casually sitting with one hand on your phone and the other one behind your head, face lit incandescent by the screen. It was the first time he’d been alone with you after New York; he remembers this.

You hadn’t even given a glance sideways at him, still fixed on the screen, thumb sliding up and focused on mission details in a perfect picture of indifference.

“Your whole thing. Mister Red-White-and-Broody, most eligible bachelor in all of America—which, by the way, is so far up your ass all fifty states might as well be coming out of your mouth—”

“Stop it.”

“Okay, Rogers.” A smirk. His last name slipping between your lips like military title. “Fine, you’re all gilded in the front, suffering in the back. So—” You turned finally, pulled your feet back and tucked them under your body, “What is it?”

Steve pretended to think, left hand clenching a fraction tighter on the wheel, feeling its strength beneath his grip. His face remained impassive and dedicated forward, turning the seconds in his head, counting down the appropriate time for his reply.

It was a game, certainly. Your assertion, your poise, hand propping up your head—all of it. Your entire being was a foil to one Steven Grant Rogers and he was strapped with you for half a week. Already the car ride was beginning to foreshadow what was quickly seeming to be a long assignment.

“It’s my job—”

“So weak.”

“I’m busy—”

“Are you even trying to lie?”

You were known to do this: lay out a path of questions that only gave your company the pretense of a genuine conversation. You’d lead them like a wrangler leading horses to water, knowing they wouldn’t drink, but giving them just enough time to stare at their own reflection in the pool before you’d yank the harness elsewhere.

It was always a short path, but what you lacked in subtlety you made up for with honesty.

Agitated, Steve snapped before he could rein himself back in.

“What are you, my psychologist?” Horse.

“You don’t have one. You are the only Avengers Tower resident who has run off every psychologist on Stark’s payroll. So--” a twist of your torso, your back pressed up against the door handle as you stared at the outline of his side profile. Wrangler.

The question dangled in front of his gritted teeth. The answer he’d known long ago was behind two perfect calcium rows, pressed up, trying to find its way through the cracks.

What’s your thing? We fought together. We live together. We suffered a cataclysmic event in the form of aliens together---so why doesn’t anybody know you?

You leaned forward, body tilting until it almost touched your former footrest. Your head sloped to find his face and when he flicked his eyes sharply to yours, Steve knew it wasn’t sharp enough.

“You don’t want to be vulnerable.”

You’d led him through the brief route of your inquisition and had seen all you cared to see. Your voice bounced off the window when you closed your eyes and turned away.

“Steve,” you sighed, mouth going to the side in a smile. “Vulnerability is clumsy, but it’s the only thing worth anything.”

He had thought: No, it isn’t. He’d spent too long being vulnerable already, and he couldn’t afford it again. Twenty years of a miserable half-life and seventy years of sleep and suddenly the world was new and different and strange. Coming back into his body was new and different and strange but it was the body that afforded him invulnerability.

Mostly, anyway.

Steve decided, then, at least he could make up for that lump of mortality—that lump of weakness—with performance.

So, he became the blacksmith to his feeble Brooklyn boy heart. Forged carbon steel, gold-plated, immaculately polished like his own shield at press conferences. Smoothed himself into a monumental display of impeccable posturing and hid the boy away where no one could reach him. Let him go back to sleep, too. Frozen in a time long passed, long forgotten.

He wasn’t Steve Rogers anymore because no one knew Steve Rogers anymore; it was the only way he could carry on. Didn’t you know?

No, he supposed, you didn’t.

On the ride back you surrendered yourself to the backseat, laying down in the most comfortable position the sedan would allow, and chatted his ear off the entire ride home. Called him Steve and looked at him through the rearview mirror. Eyes met eyes, and yours crinkled at the edges with some secret knowledge.

By the end of it, all he could think about was how he didn’t mind the conversation and that his first name even sounded a little nice coming out of your mouth.

You shimmer in the passenger side until your hair hangs a little longer. His brown leather jacket is around your shoulders. A stretch of your arms. A stretch of your lips. Months passed and Rogers befell the man you knew during the Manhattan Crisis while he became Steve.

Steve on missions and in the field—On your six, Steve! Keep up, old boy. Steve at the tower and Steve in the gym— don’t touch my weights, Steve, you’ll throw your back out.

Steve getting the door and pouring the whiskey and letting you wear his jacket when you were cold. Finding you across rooms at parties because there was an easiness to your presence that calmed the crowd. Shooting pool and watching movies. Up late and out late and laughing until the early hours.

He was Steve, your friend, because he finally allowed himself to have a friend.

You change. Shimmer again until your hair is pulled back from your swollen face. A hospital gown crinkled around your shoulders. Asleep, cold. Too close to death, too close to him. He couldn’t even sit by your bedside, only standing by the door, shuffling from one wall to the other and watched the monitors with a too-loud and static-filled brain.

He was hesitantly Steve when you stepped too close to him on the balcony nights later, hand precariously hovering over that fragile boy heart, finally pressing down on it, feeling his delicate pulse thawing and crawling towards you. Tipsy smile and you tasted like whiskey and easy joy.

The kiss was clumsy, like you’d said. Vulnerability threw him back to the 40’s, all gangly limbed and ill, his lungs malfunctioning, his breath smothered in his mouth. He stumbled, but the banister held him up.

You didn’t mind that his knees felt boneless. You chalked it up to too much drink, but the touch of your still-bruised cheek abruptly burned down his throat—warm and smooth and cataclysmic until he caught sight of the way you winced as his hand cupped your tender face. Steve stepped back, then, and apologized for what he said should have never happened.

There was a small quiver from your shoulder before you quietly went back inside.

He cursed himself on the balcony. Cursed letting it all happen in the first place. Captain Rogers watched your retreating steps, burying the spark and the fire. And the boy must have cried in his ice-block coffin when he buried him again, too.

“Don’t look at me like that.” God, he’s going crazy. Poor night-vision and an addled brain causing him to scold an empty seat. “You stopped talking to me.”

His grip on the steering wheel tightens the way it does when you’re too deep in his head and he can’t get you out. Days without hearing from you smeared together in careful steps of a cagey dance. Comments always presented as half-truths—riddles he struggled to deconstruct. Breadcrumbs never leaving enough of a trail to lead him anywhere. He wants the harness back. Wants back your confident hand.

“You could have said something.” Steve scoffs, because you always had something to say. “Anything. You could have said anything. We were—friends.”

And hell, doesn’t that sound stupid out loud? Maybe it’s best that he’s got nothing but infinity beyond the sedan’s glaring brights and a million thoughts of unsaid words. It’s all useless, anyway. Best that he can get it all out now, talking to your ghost. It keeps all his thoughts in his head and keeps him from yelling every time he sees you not-looking, not-smiling, not-talking to him.

Steve flicks the wipers on again. Shuts off the radio. Shuts off the navigation. Takes the car off cruise-control to give himself something to do. He’ll stop overnight, after all.

Suddenly then, in the distance, two glowing eyes greet him steadily. Measured paces, in a firm and crisp trajectory, growing closer and closer. Glaring and vivid, beating the monotonous grind of nighttime out of him. His pinky moves, and his high beams flip to low beams, white giving way to yellow and the glistening road signs and tree-shadows in the distance slowly diminish.

Bleached spectral glaring of leaves and road signs soften ochre and brown, indigo dark. For a fleeting moment, even Steve’s enhanced eyes feel half-blind again as he readjusts to the pitch-black night barely lit. The car coming toward him does the same, highs blinking low and they pass each other in quiet understanding. In blind trust on the dark road, dependent on each other’s good faith to see it through.

He thinks of Sarah Rogers in a tiny Brooklyn kitchen, floral wallpaper yellowed and peeling behind her. One hand on an apron-clad hip, cooking interrupted by her son stumbling in dripping blood down his shirt, her other hand clenched around a wet kitchen rag.

“Steven Grant Rogers! Oh—wretched! What else can I say,” she’d sigh as she pressed it to his nose, “You do whatever you please, anyhow. You just put this on your face—and don’t think it’ll get you out of doing the dishes, either.”

“But—” he’d attempt.

She’d put up her hand, “Lord have mercy on any young woman that’ll have you. May she have your poor mother’s patient heart.”

His ma always called him slow. A dolt through and through. Quick to temper, but laborious to do much else. Common sense always took its sweet time-- took the long path home to get to Steve Rogers. In seventy-odd years, he hasn’t changed.

Better than coincidence and better than poor meteorology. Serendipity. It’s the only way he can describe it.

Like finding a crumpled up twenty in his pocket—or in his case, a five—enough then for a week’s worth of meals. Like having that nightmare— the one right before the plane crashes and instead of going down with it, he wakes up. Like expecting to drive five hours through a storm and stopping overnight, but instead it’s clear and blue as far as he can see.

The rush, the relief, the deafening joy that shuts everything else up and out.

Sarah Rogers was right: he’d always been slow.

So he careens back onto the highway from the service road, steadying his foot on the pedal and flies about fifteen miles faster than the speed limit says he should. The car is vibrating to a thrilled beat inside his chest. Steve can’t help smiling.

-

It was supposed to rain. All the way to the next mid-morning but the sky parts a brilliant orange sunrise and he nearly sprints to the door. He doesn’t wait for it to open all the way before he barrels in. A sliver of parting wood is enough, and Steve throws it wide with his enormous shoulders, kicking it shut firmly with his boot.

The imprint of your body on the couch is still warm—you, halfway across the room in alarm—real and even warmer when Steve gathers you into his arms. He’s been awake for over 24 hours, talking to himself, talking to your hallucination, so he apologizes when his teeth click against yours in a frantic kiss.

“Rogers--!”

You pull away, dazed, a little bit pissed off, but you cow the swirl of emotions into professionalism. “What are you—you’re not supposed to be here until late—did you drive through--”

“Steve,” he interrupts, “Steve.”

He’s so tired of the long road. Can’t stand another second of maneuvering in the dark down winding paths or broken streetlight avenues you’re not at the end of so he keeps his next phrase short: “I really like you.”

You raise your brow and brush the back of your knuckles over your lips, the light from the balcony streaming over your face. His hand tenderly brushes your cheek, the same one he touched all those months ago and you blink in surprise. Quick, calculating movements even as you lean gently into his touch.

“Steve…” you say slowly before your mouth pinches together in a poor attempt to hide the smirk threatening to surface. “You drove all night to… ask me to call you Steve.”

“Well,” he shrugs, “And the mission.”

“Right, the mission. The debrief didn’t mention that it required a lot of… kissing.”

“It came up recently; I haven’t adjusted the file yet.” He grins at your rolling eyes, your swollen lips peeling back to reveal a joyful display of teeth at his stubborn defiance.

“Took you long enough,” you mumble.

You place your hand over his chest, over his heart.

You kiss him and Steve hears himself sighing into your mouth. His cheeks flush with embarrassment, but you’re not letting go, and he presses his lips to yours a little slower, a little firmer, learning the ways you like to feel him there.

“Steve,” you breathe, and it paints him in the most galvanized care. “Steve,” you say again, and his eyes slip shut, like he’s being laid to rest. And maybe he is. Finally weary of lugging around all his armor, all his pretense.  

The boy emerges, thawing toward his name held sweetly in your mouth.

He fumbles with his awkward limbs—a newly birthed foal trying to find its footing—but you’re patient and enduring. He takes in his trembling body—knobby knees and gangly elbows. Inept gait still learning how to be. He takes the sights—white casting over the balcony. You, even brighter.

It was supposed to rain, but you link your fingers through his, leading him toward the open doors, smiling against a backdrop of sherbet swirls. He stumbles, but you’ve got him. A few short steps, just a few more, and Steve kisses you again in the sunbathed daybreak, resurrected and anew.

#marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #reader insert #steve rogers x you #steve x reader #steve x you #steve rogers imagines #fluff #angst

[eclipsedpascal]

Attention

Michael Langdon x female reader

Michael had been working so hard to make his Sanctuary selections and you knew you weren’t to disturb him, but the ache between your thighs was beginning to tell you otherwise.

Warnings: daddy kink, choking, degrading, mocking, hair pulling, slight BDSM, spanking, spit kink, fingering, edging, cum eating maybe?, unprotected sex, slapping, also Michael shows his demon face a lil bit lmao

word count: 2.1k

•••••••

As you sat by the fireplace trying to read a book that no longer held your interest; all you could think about was how irresistible Michael looked whilst making his sanctuary selections.

you noticed how the locks of hair that hung in front of him were casting the lightest of shadows against his face. how his ring clad fingers were gripped so tightly around the pen he was writing with, his knuckles had gone white. noticed the way he would lick his lips when he was frustrated was beginning to make you squirm in your seat.

you could see how hard he was concentrating; his gaze was sharp and he hadn’t looked up from the papers on front of him in almost an hour. but needing him to hurry up and give you the attention you were craving, you attempted to lure him to bed.

“are you almost done? i’m getting tired”

“Y/N if you’re tired you should go to bed. there’s no need to wait up for me.” he hadn’t stopped writing, nor even looked your way as he replied.

“hm, i think i’d rather sleep with my husband next to me than alone.” the sound of his writing filled the room as you waited for a reply that never came.

you hated when he was like this; all work and no play. you sighed loudly, hoping it would get his attention, but still he gave you nothing.

“Michaelll!” sick of your whining and complaining not working, you left the office, having had another idea.

•••••••

you admired yourself in the mirror as you adjusted your lace garters. You’d decided to put on the black set you knew he loved. you’d practically had to beg him not to rip it off you the last time you wore it.

quickly throwing on your dressing gown, you headed back to Michaels office through the outposts dimly lit hallways. if this didn’t get his attention, you didn’t know what would.

you made your through the wooded sliding doors to see him still writing peacefully. you knew you weren’t to disturb him when he was working, but his ignoring had gone on for far too long.

“i thought you had gone to bed.” he shot you the slightest glance as he spoke, but still not giving you his undivided attention, you decided it was time to put your little plan into action.

you swayed your hips as you walked towards him, beginning to undo the tie of your gown. “well i was going to, but then i thought of something far more fun.” you dropped the gown to the floor, letting it puddle by your feet. “but perhaps you’d rather work; daddy.”

his writing ceased as he raised his head to look at you. you could see the hunger forming in his eyes instantly, as if they had grown a few shades darker.

he stood from the leather chair he had been occupying all night, fingers grazing the edge of his desk as he stalked towards you.

he tilted his head slightly as he looked down on you. “do you have any idea how hard it’s been to work when all i can hear is the constant stream of vulgar thoughts that flow from that pretty little head of yours?” his voice was calm and smooth as a honey as he spoke.

he wrapped his hand around your throat, the coolness of his rings feeling like ice against your flushed skin. you looked up at him, your confident demeanor quickly collapsing as you stared back into his lust filled eyes.

“you’ve been ignoring me all night. i needed you” you pouted, almost hoping to escape the punishment you knew you would be receiving. almost.

“oh i’m sorry little one. you just needed me did you?” he raised his voice ever so slightly as he mimicked yours. making you feel small and pathetic. “you couldn’t have just waited for daddy to finish the important work he was doing, now could you? you just needed to behave like a slut for my attention, hm?”

you could feel yourself getting wetter with each mocking word that left his lips. he tightened his grip on your throat, as he spat out his words “Answer me.”

struggling to breathe, you did your best to speak. “i’m sorry, i just-.”

before you could finish he grabbed onto your hair, dragging you towards his desk and forcing you down onto the papers scattered across it.

“don’t. fucking. move.” you could hear what you thought was him taking his belt off behind you, but you didn’t dare turn to look; doing your best not to anger him any more than you already had.

he reached around to the front of you, grabbing your wrists and quickly tying them together with the thick leather of his belt, until he was certain you wouldn’t be able to move them.

he stroked the skin of your back as his hand made it’s way down to your ass. he squeezed your cheeks gently, kneading them with his hands.

“do you want me to punish you? because it’s certainly starting to feel like you do.” you didn’t reply, knowing his question was rhetorical.

his hand came down against your ass as he spanked you. his rings stinging your bear skin, making you whimper and squeeze your thighs together.

taking a deep breathe, you closed your eyes to prepare for another smack, but instead you were greeted with a loud ripping noise and a sudden breeze of cool air against your pussy.

he had ripped off your panties. as if not being able to buy new clothes due to the apocalypse he had caused wasn’t bad enough, now he had ripped one of your favourite pairs.

“what have i told you about disturbing me when i’m working princess?” his question was fair. he had been very clear about this when the two of you had first arrived at the outpost, explaining that he would need time to work.

“that i wasn’t supposed to do it.” you replied sheepishly. you still felt his ignoring was unfair, though you knew now wasn’t the time for discussing it.

“mhmm.” he hummed his reply.

he smacked your cunt, making you jolt forwards slightly. enjoying how rough he was being with you, you moaned.

“you’re already soaked for me, little one.”

grabbing onto your hair yet again, he brought you up to his chest and span you around. the way he was yanking the back of your head forced you to look into his eyes.

“what am i supposed to do with you little one? i can’t even punish you without you enjoying it too much. such a nasty slut.”

he caressed your cheek as he spoke, brushing his thumb against your bottom lip as he did so.

“open” he requests. you do as you’re told and open your mouth for him. knowing what was to come.

he spits into your mouth and presses his thumb down onto your tongue, spreading his saliva onto it

“suck”

you move his thumb in and out of your mouth, sucking it as if it was his cock. never breaking eye contact with him as you did so. his stare was calm, filled with a desire only you could satiate. the power he has over you in that moment was almost enough to make him cum in his pants.

“you’re pathetic. you would take anything if it meant receiving a good fucking wouldn’t you?”

“only for you, daddy.” you loved it when he degraded you. it made you feel special, knowing you were his personal plaything.

“oh i know.” the most smug look decorated his face as he picked you up, sitting you on the edge of the desk.

he finally kissed you, the first kiss you had received from him all night. it was rough, passionate. your teeth clashing against one another’s as he sucked on your tongue. the way he was cradling your head making you feel fragile.

he began running his fingers through your slick folds, his lips moving down to attack your neck like an animal that hadn’t fed in days. he was biting and sucking every inch of your skin he could whilst he toyed with you clit, rubbing it in small circles before dipping two fingers inside your walls, massaging them until you were a moaning mess.

you did your best to undo the buttons on his shirt with your hands still tied together, only managing to open a hand full before giving into the pleasure his skilled hands were putting you though.

“ohh FUCK.” you could feel yourself getting closer to your climax as he continued slamming his fingers in and out of your cunt.

leaning into the arm he had wrapped around your waist, you threw your head back in pleasure.

“mmh daddy, i’m gonna come.” you practically sobbed out your words, feeling yourself on the edge of an orgasm when he suddenly stopped his movements.

he lifted his head to look at you, a cocky smile creeping into his face.

“no. you don’t get to come without daddy’s permission.”

pulling his fingers out of you, he brought them up to his lips and sucked them clean. “don’t forget your manners, little one.”

you watched him in awe. he was mesmerising to you. the way his cheeks hollowed as he sucked his fingers made a chill run up your spine.

taking a hold of your neck, he choked you slightly; pushing you down flat on the desk as his other hand worked to unbutton his pants.

he took his cock out, jerking it slightly before spitting onto your pussy. you watched him align himself up with your tight hole, using the hold he had on your neck to steady himself as he did so.

you screamed as he rammed himself into you, bottoming out in just one thrust. the pain of it quickly amounting into pleasure.

he immediately started fucking into you, setting a pace so reckless it made the once sturdy desk wobble underneath you, papers flying off it at the forcefulness of his thrusts.

“is this what you wanted!? is this the attention you were craving so badly?” you felt the grip he had on your neck grow tighter as he spoke. his face beginning to flicker white, his true form showing due to the carnality of your acts.

you couldn’t even speak with the speed he was pounding into you, so instead you nodded and hoped that would be enough.

he slapped you, and gripped onto your face, eyes shooting daggers into you “no princess, you’ll use your words.”

“yes daddy this is what i wanted!!” you cried out your words.

“good girl.”

your eyes were basically rolling back in your head now, his pace not faltering once and the sound of your moans bouncing off the office walls had definitely been loud enough for the rest of the outpost to hear, but neither of you cared.

all you wanted to do was to touch him. You wanted to hold onto the arm that he had wrapped around your throat. wanted to run your fingers through his golden hair, but the familiar pull of leather around your wrists was stopping you.

“ohh you’re gonna make daddy come baby. such a tight little cunt.”

Michael let out a throaty groan, his movements growing careless as he got closer to ecstasy.

“come with me, baby. look into my eyes and come for me.” he brought his face closer to you, his eyes now entirely black as they stared down into your own.

feeling the coil in your stomach snap, your clenched your hands into fists and screamed his name. he fucked you through your high, a delicious groan leaving him as his own end came, his cock spurting it’s milky seed onto your contracting walls.

deciding to let himself soften inside, he collapsed on top of you, panting as the colour flooded back into his eyes. You were still trying to catch your breathe as you stared at each other.

“i’m sorry i was ignoring you sweetheart.” he moved a hair from your face as he spoke, looking down at you adoringly.

you rolled your eyes slightly “it’s fine. i know you’re busy.” you giggled a little, thinking about how your plan had worked.

“i just wanted your attention.”

#michael langdon #michael langdon smut #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x you #michael langdon fic #michael langdon imagine #cody fern #cody fern x reader

[guqin-and-flute]

nieyao or 3zun + prompt 64 with cat!baxia

64. “I think your cat wants to kill me.” [This got way away from me WHOOPS]

“So. This date is going fantastically. Do I make top 10?”

Meng Yao huffed a short, polite laugh through his nose at Mingjue’s rueful question. “Being nursed back to health by a handsome man is certainly adding back points lost in the cat attack,” he replied, and some of the frustrated dread bled from the ball in Mingjue’s chest. “I really could do this myself, you know,” he added.  

Mingjue sighed. “Yeah, well, since it was my cat attack, I feel like I need to make reparations. I’ve also taken First Aid more times than I can count and cat scratches can get really nasty.” 

If this were a one of the sappy romcoms Huaisang loved so much, standing at the sink together as he tended to the 2 gashes scoring down Meng Yao’s forearm with several antiseptic soaked cotton balls had the potential to be romantic. Except Mingjue had never liked those movies and he just felt like a fucking asshole who owned an unruly animal.

He had met Meng Yao at the grocery store. Mingjue had looked up from his phone at the sound of a sharp voice--a middle aged business man was snapping at a young man in front of him in line; "Fucking Christ, you're going to hold up everyone."

"You can go ahead of me if you'd like--"

"There's a whole line of people here! We all have places to go!"

The man being yelled at--(the very attractive man with round, dark eyes, he noted)--had grimaced placatingly, as the cashier was saying, "We can hold his groceries while he goes out, sir, you won't have to wait."

A the business man threw his hands into the air in disgust, Mingjue had slid his phone into his back pocket and interrupted in his 'is this guy bothering you' voice; "What's the problem?"

3 pairs of eyes had darted to him immediately and gone wide. The very good looking man had tensed completely, eyes darting to the door in a way that looked involuntary--and well, Mingjue had been struck by the completely overwhelming urge to tuck him back behind him and make this asshole between them shit his pants in fear. And anyone else that made him look that scared, for that matter. "I'm sorry," the scared, attractive, adorable, fragile-looking, harassed young man had said a tight smile, "I forgot my wallet in my car, we can just--"

"Here," Mingjue slid out his credit card handed it--pointedly--over Mr. Business-Asshole's head to the cashier. "I'll cover it. You know what," he had added, fixing the quickly wilting dickhead with his best 'I-can-bench-press-you-and-then-feed-you-your-own-esophagus-no-problem' stare, "Why don't you get the nice lady behind me, too. Once this guy is done running for the biggest jackass award. I'll wait."

And, you know, weirdly enough, Mr. Asshole had actually left the line, red faced and without his shitty little protein shakes. As the cashier bit back a grin and rung up the card, the harassed young man--who was even prettier up close, holy hell, it made his lower back sweat--had tried to insist that it wasn't necessary, that really, he had the money, he could just go get it, he appreciated it but didn't need Mingjue to put himself out. Mingjue had just shrugged and held out his hand. "It's the principle of the thing. Nie Mingjue."

The man had opened his mouth, looked down at his hand; then, he had smiled and holy goddamn fucking shitballs he had dimples. Shaking it firmly in a hand that was soft and cool and slim, he had said, "Then...thank you. Meng Yao. I'll have to pay you back. Do you have a cash app?"

"Don't bother."

"I insist."

"You can buy me dinner sometime, then," Mingjue's mouth had decided to say without permission, but luckily he agreed with the idea and so had been quite pleased to see Meng Yao's ears go pink.

"...That sounds fair," he replied, finally, those lovely dimples returning.

The cashier had cleared their throat, brightly. "Do you by chance have our loyalty card?"

They agreed on a first date in a public restaurant where they could verify that the other wasn’t some sort of serial killer. It had even been a nice one that Meng Yao had insisted on where they had also shared a bottle of wine and interesting conversation. Meng Yao was exceedingly smart and easy to talk to--the perfect conversational partner with a knack for solving many of the problems that Mingjue hadn't even realized he complained about. In return, he had made his attraction quite clear and Meng Yao had ducked his head.

"I'll have you know that I don't go home with anyone on the first date," he had said carefully, eyes on his fingertip as he ran it around the rim of his wineglass. "It's a personal rule of mine. I wouldn't want you to get the wrong impression."

"That's fine with me," Mingjue shrugged. "If you're up for it, I'll wait for as many dates outlasts your rule, 'cause I grill a mean steak."

Those dimples came back and he had sat back in his chair, voice light as he asked, "Oh? Won't you get bored?"

Mingjue had snorted and finished off his glass. "Just because I'd like to sleep with you doesn't mean I don't also want to get to know you, you know."

Mingjue was just getting to know the guy, so he couldn't be sure, but that answer seemed to please him.

The night of the cat disaster was the 4th on their run of dates--Mingjue had shooed Huaisang over to Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng’s house for the night and invited Meng Yao over via text for dinner and a movie and also the option of sex, if he wanted. 

Apparently, the bluntness had made Meng Yao laugh. Mingjue had texted back that he preferred honesty in all things and could handle a ‘no, thanks’ with plenty maturity. Meng Yao had replied, ‘I’m sure you can,’ which, he had very keenly noticed, was not a ‘no, thanks.’

Dinner had gone great--homemade meals always seemed to impress--and they had been preparing to split a chocolate lava cake in front of a shitty action movie they had both agreed on with the understanding that neither of them minded missing anything if they decided fooling around was more interesting.

But now, there was blood everywhere--on the dishes in the sink, on the towel they had hastily staunched it with, on the countertop and the mood was ruined because his giant, grumpy ass cat had decided to savage his date as they were cleaning up the table. Baxia had sniffed his leg suspiciously when he first came in, flinching away as he knelt down to offer his fingers. Then, she had fixed him with a glare, hissed, and turned around and stalked away, fluffy gray tail held high--which, for her, was practically a warm welcome. She had her boys--Huaisang and Mingjue--and hated pretty much everyone else (except for Wei Wuxian's older sister Jiang Yanli when she had dropped him off to hang out with Huaisang when his license got suspended. Which had happened a few times, now).

Everything had been fine with her while they ate--she had even spent it under the table, rubbing up against Mingjue's legs, staring up at Meng Yao without making so much as a peep. It was when they had risen that disaster struck. She had hopped up onto Meng Yao's chair and decided to take personal offense to his existence with absolutely no warning at all when he passed by with his hands full of silverware.

Now, Meng Yao’s long fingers curled into a fist as the cotton passed over a particularly deep part of the slice, though his face remained calm, so Mingjue winced for him. "Sorry. I swear, she's never done this before, I don't know what the hell her problem is."

Meng Yao shook his head, smile pressed and polite as he said, "Really, it's fine." He shifted on his feet to lean his hip against the cupboards and, immediately, Mingjue seized his elbows. 

“Are you dizzy?”

The other man had stiffened at the sudden movement, staring up at him. Then, he blinked and smiled, shaking his head. “No, I'm alright.”

Mingjue eyed him suspiciously. “You’re sure?”

He laughed. “I’m not going into shock, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ve had much worse, trust me. I’m not going to pass out.”

Mingjue remained unconvinced. Instead of arguing further, he simply lifted him by the waist to sit on the island across from the sink for lack of a chair. Meng Yao let out the beginning of a squeak, hands automatically flashing up to bunch in the front of his shirt for balance. He blinked down at Mingjue, then the ground, then back at him, eyes wide and nostrils flared. Mingjue couldn't tell if it was annoyance, horniness, or a combination of both--and that was all well and good except that he was still bleeding and he knew from experience what a bitch blood was to get out of clothing. So he just pulled Meng Yao's arm out again and went back to work, asking, "So what was the 'much worse'?"

"Pardon?"

"You said you knew you're not going to pass out because you've had 'much worse'. What's the story there?"

"Ah. No story. I broke my arm. Compound fracture. I stayed awake the whole time, so a cat scratch is fairly minor, in comparison."

Mingjue hissed in through his teeth reflexively in sympathy and scanned him. Either he healed fantastically or the scar was higher up on his arms, under the soft cream sweater sleeves that were rolled up to his elbows--luckily, they had been rolled up before the attack and had escaped blood thus far. "Fuck. How'd that happen?"

"Fell down some stairs."

Mingjue raised an eyebrow at the stark explanation. "Well, maybe you shouldn't fall down stairs. Ever thought of that?"

Meng Yao smiled thinly down at him, dark eyes glinting in the fluorescent lights. "Mm. I'll have to keep that in mind." The dimples he searched for avidly were there, faintly, and Mingjue found himself wanting to nibble on them.

They hadn't done much else besides a kiss goodnight in the shadows near the entrance to the parking garages of their dates, because Mingjue was being good and keeping his hands above the belt. And he should probably figure out whether or not this date was going to have the eject button pressed, first. There was blood everywhere, still.

"Why all the First Aid classes?" Meng Yao asked suddenly, keeping his arm extended out even as Mingjue released him to rummage for the antibacterial spray. "Was it because your demon cat kept attacking people?"

Mingjue barked out a laugh and sprayed down his arm--Meng Yao didn't flinch. "At first, it was for lifeguarding, every summer since I was 16 until I graduated college. Now, I take refresher courses because I run a martial arts studio and shit can get real real fast, especially with newbies who try to fuck around." Tearing open the packet of sterilized gauze with his teeth so he could still hold his arm, he situated it and held it with a gentle thumb. "Tape or gauze wrap?"

Meng Yao shrugged. "I have no preference. Surprise me."

Gauze wrap it was. It would hurt less than pulling tape off his arm later. Meng Yao watched him finish up quietly, ankles linked, posture straight and proper even sitting on a kitchen counter. On impulse, Mingjue lifted his now bandaged arm and kissed the skin of his wrist, just below where the gauze stopped and got a slight shiver for his trouble. He looked up at him, then, an angle he was not used to but was definitely enjoying. "This has been a piss poor date. I really am sorry."

"The dinner was lovely before it ended in bloodshed, I promise," Meng Yao assured him, smiling. Then, it grew a little sly and he leaned in, slowly, stretching his arms out over Mingjue's shoulders to link behind his neck. "Although, you could always kiss it better."

Well, there was no possible way to misinterpret that particular invitation and he heartily took it, snugging Meng Yao up against him with hands on his hips and devouring him just as indulgently as he would the forgotten lava cake cooling on the stove top. He hummed in appreciation as Meng Yao's arms wrapped tighter, his thighs squeezing around his hips as he kissed back with just as much enthusiasm. He tasted like the dry wine they had finished the meal with.

All at once, though, Meng Yao froze, hands stilling in his hair. Before Mingjue had time to be confused, he whispered against his mouth, "I think your cat wants to kill me," eyes fixed on something over Mingjue's shoulder.

Mingjue craned his neck around to find Baxia perched on the counter next to the sink, tail swishing, gaze locked with Meng Yao, ears flicked out to the sides. She let out a low, quiet growl.

"Oh, for fucks sake," Mingjue growled back. "That's it. You're going in Huaisang's room for the night."

#little-smartass #SO LIKE WRITING THINGS CHRONOLOGICALLY IS APPARENTLY DIFFICULT FOR ME #But this was fun!! Nice low stakes! Cat attack! #Nieyao #modern au #ask #prompt #my fic #my stuff #this became much longer than I anticipated

[elfwoodfae]

Eowells x og Eobard x reader.

Warnings: toxic Eo, smut, threesome, double penetration. Also, this is completely consensual, it’s reassured through the fic that they can stop any moment if any of them wants to.

Eobard sighed for the tenth time since the argument had started again, it had been like this since you both had made it to the future. Things seemed a little too tense in between you both; it was always the same argument, the same fight and he could tell you were getting tired of it too. Since finding out about him, finding out what he had to do to survive, you had always expressed interest in knowing what his real body looked like, you wanted to know the real him, but he had never allowed you to. Never said any details about himself. He was too stubborn to do it, specially since there was no winning for him in doing so, if he showed you what he really looked like and you liked his original body more you would still be stuck with Harrison’s body, but if you liked Harrison’s more than the original it would feel like a blow to his pride, even if he would never say it out loud.

He took in a breath, seeing you there standing with your arms crossed in front of you, the frustration radiating off of you, your eyes squinted in his direction, the tension in the air was not helping him see straight. He decided to do what he did best when neither of you could see eye to eye, leave and give you space to cool off, even after years of being married it was still hard to get to an agreement once you both had reached this level of frustration. He left through the window in a fit of red lighting, speeding through the city, trying to calm himself but he was just so tired of this constant argument that seemed to follow him week by week, that he ran, ran so fast until he saw a speed portal opening and swallowing him before he could slow down.

He had traveled to the future; everything seemed fairy equal but after looking around he noticed the year, he had traveled one year ahead. He should have turned around and speeded back to his time, but curiosity got the better of him, making him speed through the city to the house you both shared, looking for you and seeing how things were between you both. He knew he shouldn’t know this much about his own future, knowing how fragile something like time was but he couldn’t help himself.

Once outside he looked through the window, he saw you, walking inside, all doll up and looking as beautiful as ever, but what he saw next made his blood boil. Walking behind you and rubbing his hands up your legs was a stranger, a man he had never seen before. It was clear he wasn’t in the picture and he hated the second he saw you close your eyes and sigh when the man’s hands ran higher up. He closed his eyes before speeding back and creating a portal, it seemed he wouldn’t be with you for much longer if he didn’t change a few things. He made a split second decision as he entered the portal, speeding through time with a goal on mind. He would make sure you were bound to him for life.

He made it back to the house, noticing you were now seemingly more relaxed, but he was even angrier than before. He saw you there, sitting on the couch with a big shirt on and the image of that idiots hands up your body flashed through his mind, infuriating him even more. He flashed to you, grabbing you roughly and speeding you to the bedroom, his hand roughly cradling your face, making enough pressure to show who was in charge but without hurting you. His eyes were like fire, blue oceans with red lightning storming in it, his face adorned with a scowl as he pushed you closer to himself. An animalistic growl escaped his lips before he collided his lips to yours, connecting them in an angry kiss, putting all his rage and fury into it.

His hand found the back of your neck, tangling his fingers in your hair hard enough to make you whine in pain. His other hand traveled up your leg under your shirt, grabbing it forcefully, taking it off of you. His mouth found your neck, biting and nipping at the skin as his hand grabbed your butt cheek, squeezing as a moan escaped you. You could feel the anger coming off of him, this was a different kind of mad, he was furious, possessive, you had no idea what had happened to make him this mad after he left, but still you felt safe in his arms, knowing the moment you wanted to stop he would stop just by you asking him to.

His hand came to your cheek, cradling in roughly once again as his finger squeezed your lips, moving your face up to look at him.

“You are mine y/n.” He growled, squeezing his hand just lightly to make his point clear while his other hand moved down your stomach, passing the hem of your underwear and feeling the wetness that had pooled in between your legs.

You moaned in response, trying to grab his shoulders and get him off the suit he was still wearing. He phased out of it, before turning you around and standing behind you, his hand squeezing the softness of your breast as he made you look to the door before whispering in your ear.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, if you want another man, I can be another man. I will give you what you want so bad.” He angrily growled in your ear while grinding his hips agains the crevice of your ass.

Your eyes widened as you saw what he referred to; there, cradle in the same suit was another speedster, or a copy of Eobard, but when he stopped vibrating himself and pulled his cowl down, your eyes connected and you saw that this man, was a completely different one. His hair was blonde, his eyes where still blue, but a different kind of blue, almost kinder than your Eobard. His body was the same height but a little more wide and full. He was still a sight to behold.

Your mouth opened but no words came out. His eyes took you in form, as his other half, the one wearing Wells’ skin, his words echoing through his mind, the other one had said how there was someone, someone who held their hearts and if they didn’t act fast they would loose her. He had never met her, but he could see the urgency on his other version’s eyes. He knew this version of himself in a different body was from much farther up in the timeline, somehow the way this other him had talked about you made him see that perhaps there was hope for him, that everything he had done would be worth it in the future.

He moved closer, his hand softly touching your cheek, feeling your skin as he closed his eyes, a shocking contrast from how rough his other half was being. Your eyes trained on his face, looking up at him full of adoration. He was beautiful to you, he was yours. His cheeks, his lips, his chin, everything about him was hypnotizing. You saw him opening his eyes, looking directly at yours, your hand softly touching his face, feeling the shadow of a beard.

He looked up to Wells, their eyes connecting and you felt him nod behind you, giving him some kind of confirmation. He brought his hands up your face, moving them to the back of your neck before lowering himself and connecting your lips to his. They were rougher than Wells but his kiss ignited a fire within you, making you throb around Wells fingers. You felt him smirk on your neck, lifting his mouth enough speak.

“She likes it.” He said, a smirk on his face as he took his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean.

This comment made Eobard growl into the kiss, his hand trailing down your body, squeezing your waist before moving to your ass, squeezing the flesh there.

“How are we doing this.” he practically growled, his eyes moving momentarily to his others face.

They looked at each other in a way that represented they had gotten to an agreement without needing to utter a word. Wells hand started trailing down your stomach again, tangling in the elastic of your underwear before pulling it down, leaving you completely naked in between both of them. His hands moved lower, his finger moving in between your folds, vibrating once they connected with your clit, making you throw you’re head back into his shoulder, a moan escaping you as your hands gripped Eobard’s shoulders.

Eobard’s fingers kept trailing around the curve of your ass, dipping lower until they found your opening. He circled a finger around it, applying pressure and testing the waters. He felt you stiffen a little at the contact, giving him the feeling you had never done this before, the sole idea of having you this way for the first time made his pants tighten. He felt Wells giving something to him, a bottle of lube. He opened it, pouring some on his fingers before moving them back to your entrance. His lips connecting to your neck, nipping at the skin, marking it and sucking on it enough to distract you from the finger he was beginning to push inside. He worked it slowly, inserting only the first half of it, thrusting it in and out until he could feel you relax around him. Once your body began to relax he pushed it further into the tightness of your ass, curling it slightly and pushing to the sides to start to stretch you out, he waited a moment before adding another finger, feeling how hot you felt around him, working his way into opening you up for his cock, he would need to get you stretch if he wanted it to fit comfortably inside.

Wells moved his own fingers over your clit, still applying vibrations but switching them to his thumb, allowing his other two fingers to move closer to your entrance. He ran them over your opening, teasing along side it until your wetness dripped down them. He pushed one inside, following the other close behind. You were so wet and hot around him, he could specially feel how tight it felt with both their fingers in each hole and he couldn’t imagine how tight it would feel when both their cocks were inside of you, just the idea made him groan in pleasure. His fingers worked their way deeper, curling and stimulating that spot inside of you that always made you moan and twist in pleasure. He felt you clench around him, your walls tightening around him the harder his finger moved over your clit and soon he could feel your legs shaking as his counter part grabbed one of your thighs to hold you in place while your orgasm hit you, making you arch your back further into Eobard’s fingers and your head connect with Wells shoulder.

Eobard phased himself out of his suit, and in a lighting storm they had switched places. Now he was behind you while Wells was in front of you. His hands moved under your thighs, grabbing them firmly before lifting you up, wrapping your legs around his waist while your back rested against Eobard’s chest. Eobard grabbed his cock, giving himself a few strokes, his lips connecting with the curve of your shoulder as he left a trail of kisses from your neck down your shoulder blades.

“Relax for me.” He whispered in your ear, while the tip of his cock pushed slowly against your hole. He felt you tense in his arms, he could hear you breathing out softly trying to relax yourself as he kissed your neck, trying to distract you from the discomfort of his member going inside of you. He gave you a few moments to relax after he was halfway through to push inside completely, sitting all the way in his teeth sank on your skin at the pleasure he felt being so tightly sitting within you.

He waited for Wells to make his move then, he worried how much your body could take both of them at the same time, reaffirming you that if you were in pain or you wanted to stop you just needed to say it. Wells hand grabbed the base of his cock, he moved it over your opening, against your lips, coating it with your wetness before he held your hips in place and started to push inside. Your eyes closed at the sensation it filled you with, the pressure and pleasure it brought you to have both of them inside at the same time. Wells had closed his eyes, his breath faltering at how tight it was to be inside of you. Making it almost impossible to move of how full they had you.

Eobard’s hands remained on your ass while Wells moved his to your thighs, keeping you in place while he began to thrust first, starting slowly and giving you time to adjust to the sensation, once Eobard felt you relax he began to move, matching Wells thrust, both of them going out and back in at the same time. They soon had you in a moaning mess, your head rested against Eobard’s shoulder while Wells kissed you, his tongue playing inside your mouth as his hips thrusted harder, making you moan and arch your back at the deep spot he had hit.

The faster he began to thrust, Wells could feel you tightening around him, making it even harder for Eobard to move, he was getting close and he could feel you and Wells getting closer too. He moved his fingers around you, moving them to the front of you and down your stomach, moving them over your bundle of nerves as he started to vibrate them. His fingers were thinker and rougher than Wells, they were taking you closer and closer to your orgasm, you could feel yourself contracting around their cocks, feeling so full you could barely breath. Eobard moved his mouth to your ear, bitting and nipping at your earlobe.

“Come for me y/n” he whispered before delivering a particularly hard thrust, making you lose it and come over them both. The feeling of your pussy tightening around him made Wells falter, his thrust becoming erratic as he made sure to push himself deep inside of you as he came. Eobard sped up his movements, moving his hips faster, gripping the skin of your ass hard enough to leave bruises, he grunted into your skin, feeling himself beginning to come, the flat of his tongue licking the sweat on your shoulder as he closed his eyes.

After a few seconds they both got out of you, Wells moved you to the bed, laying you down and moving next to your side, while Eobard moved to the other side. He shouldn’t stay long but he couldn’t help the warmth he felt near you. You curled on your side, facing Eobard, your hand over his chest while your head rested over his arm, you closed your eyes, smelling his scent and relaxing at having this moment with him. Wells didn’t mind, he watched from behind you, his hand resting on the curve of your waist, his eyes were unfocused as he looked at your both. The only thing he lamented was that the child he had put in you wouldn’t resemble his original form.

@harrisonwellsisdaddy

@jade-elite

@steamjunk90

@dumpeetintofyre

@yetanotherwells

@wintersire

#the flash imagines #eobard thawne fanfic #eowells fanfic #eowells x reader #harrison wells x y/n #harrison wells fanfic #eobard thawne x reader #harrison wells fanfiction #the flash fanfiction #harrison wells imagine #eowells x reader x mattobard fanfic #eobard thawne x reader fanfic #original eobard thawne x reader #eobard thawne x reader smut #eobard thawne smut #harrison eo wells smut #harrison eo wells x reader smut #eowells x reader x og eobard smut

[hyuneytoast]

✧Genre - Zombie Apocalypse AU, Angst, Fluff, A bit suggestive towards the end

✧Warnings - Blood, injuries, violence, swearing

✧Word count - 1.8k

[6:42 pm] “Dammit, Hyunjin! Hurry!” You shout over the bustling noises.

The sounds of the mortifying screams and bangs that leave ears ringing. Four more rounds with your handgun and two more zombies. They sprint after the two of you with mouth opens wide, blood stained teeth waiting for more, waiting to bite down on untouched flesh. Their white eyes and dark flayed skin only approaching closer. And damn, doesn’t matter if this world has been like this for weeks. You doubt you’ll ever get used to the petrifying sight and tense feelings; How death is waiting around every corner. It’s tough, needing to place such a confident mask over your own frantic, trembling soul. In situations like this, fear was to be avoided at all costs. Fear, as it only made one a more vulnerable target. Sadly, it’s something that often can’t be helped.

Hell, not even supply run can be left done in peace. Luckily for Hyunjin and you, your shelter— an abandoned cabin recently found— is not much further away. Just two more kills and a few more steps through this cursed oak forest. Certainly though, it doesn’t help with both your backpacks full of scavenged items weighing down your shoulders. Shooting a weapon while running to shelter, never gets easier.

Bang!

You watch a zombie collapse as it gets shot in the head by Hyunjin. “I’m out of ammo!” The boy alerts, hands left with a now empty handgun.

Your hands rest firmly on your gun as you pull the trigger, resulting in a bullet flying only to graze the last zombie’s shoulder. You pull the trigger again, not once but twice, and finally shooting its head with both aims. It’s knocked back with screams coming to an abrupt silence, falling limp and staining a tree with its blood. A wave of relief washes over you, like the world coming to a brief stop to catch a breath itself. It’s soon knocked out when you hear Hyunjin shout from behind and you’re harshly forced to the ground that scrapes your skin. “Shit, Y/N!!”

You let out a yelp from the sudden contact that spooks you, your heart skipping a beat. Chomping sounds and snarls are close to your ear, the weight of the unexpected zombie completely on your back and straining your ability to move. Its hands roam around you madly, desperate of any grip on you, but you’re quick to force them off. It didn’t help it was latched on your back where you couldn’t get a clear sight of him and what to do without getting bitten.

And there’s not a doubt Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat too. He never ran so fast without thinking. He couldn’t lose you, he absolutely couldn’t. Not like that, not in front of his eyes and so easily. Never. Within seconds, he launches himself on the zombie, arms wrapping around the monster to yank him off. As he drags him away, and far away from your reach, he jabs his pocket knife repeatedly all over the squirming creatures head. It shrieks with limbs desperately flaring around. When death soon drowns it til it’s limp in hold, Hyunjin throws the body aside and runs back to you, kneeling down. The skin on his legs sting from the harsh force. Even his hands are covered in blood that drips from his previous kill. But he doesn’t notice as every part of him was focused on you, heart drowned in complete fright and worry.

“Y/N, hey, are you okay?!” Both hands and eyes frantically scanning over your trembling body in search for wounds, or more specifically, any infected bites. “Look at me, are you hurt? Please tell me he didn’t…” The fretting male couldn’t even finish his sentence. It’s a possible reality that he believes he’ll never be able to properly admit.

“I-I’m okay. I’m okay, Hyunjin. T-thank you,” You breath out, lungs catching up on the proper air that was at loss for the past minutes. You’re fine but don’t exactly feel that way. Body aching in different ways and not to mention, your shaken mind. Too close, absolutely too close of a call, and the two of you are more than aware. You were almost bitten just like that; Almost stolen away from Hyunjin just like that.

The boy lets out a relieved sigh before pressing a kiss on your forehead. His voice becomes softer, but worry still evident within. “Come on, we need to get to the cabin.”

“Ow,” You wince at the sting of the damp cloth rubbing your skin, cleaning the blood from your cuts and scrapes. You sit on the edge of the bed as Hyunjin kneels down in front.

“Sorry, love,” He mumbles, hands moving cautiously, afraid to hurt your fragile state even more. “Almost done.”

Perhaps Hyunjin is being a bit over dramatic, he thinks to himself. You’re fine and clearly stated it without a lie, just dusted in minor wounds. Still, the previous sight was more than enough to send his mind in overdrive. How could he not act so worried and cautious? He almost lost you. What if you did end up getting bit? You wouldn’t know what to do nor think and neither would he. He’s witnessed others before; Losing their loved one and being left not only alone, but with a need to kill that person before the virus took full effect. It brings pain to his heart and a situation Hyunjin will do everything he can to prevent from happening. You’re everything to him and the only thing, even before this apocalypse took place. If you were to slip away at his very fingertips, then there wouldn’t be any point in continuing to fight this wicked world.

Hyunjin finishes wrapping small bandages around your arm before pressing a light trail of kisses on it. “You sure you’re okay?”

You let out a breathy chuckle, your free hand coming up to tuck a few strands of his dark hair behind his ear. “I’m fine, thanks to you.”

He hums as he gets up on his feet, walking to a table where your stuffed backpacks rest. He reaches in the side pocket before going back to approach you, hand hiding whatever possession behind his back.

“Ta-da,” He softly cheers, hand now lending you a small bunch of daisies you assumed he handpicked on his way here.

“Mm, thank you, Jinnie. They’re pretty,” You helplessly smile. Things like flowers always give some sense of reassurance. Perhaps it’s because it shows that there are still things left around to be cherished. “I sure hope you didn’t almost get your ass killed just to get these.”

“Not exactly…” His voice dragging at the end.

“Hwang.”

“I just fell and they happened to be there,” He responds meekly. “It’s just, we haven’t seen flowers in a while and they reminded me of you.”

You let out a low sigh, and more of the fact that this isn’t the first time he’s used his own danger as an advantage. “You can’t be putting your life at risk like this, Hyunjin.”

“Yeah, but you almost died today!”

“That situation was different,” You mutter.

“I promised you I’d make this world worth living, even through the little things, didn’t I?”

How could you forget? And even more so, Hyunjin is a man who sticks to his words no matter what. “I remember, but it doesn’t mean you should unnecessarily go through more dangers. Everything’s already hard enough, losing you is the last thing I want. Anything else can wait.”

“I know.” He hangs his head low for a bit. He knows, he really does, but sometimes he gets so caught up in his emotional desires. And to be more specific, his love for you and fear. “It’s just, I want to give you everything and I can’t help it sometimes. I’m sorry.”

Hyunjin can’t help but feel like he’s not doing enough at times. In the end, he just dearly wishes to give you everything he has so you continue staying by his side. The fear of being left alone to fight follow him like a storm cloud. Hyunjin appreciates every moment with you and is willing to do everything in his willpower to make sure there’s no end to any of it. He wants to continue smiling with you even if the world itself is mourning. Hyunjin considers it selfish of him in a way, but how can he not the you are all he has left?

“There’s no need to apologize, Jinnie. I understand, but I just need you to also understand that you’re really all I need. Nothing else.” You’re still seated at the edge of the bed, looking up to the hovering male with an unreadable expression. Is he feeling hurt? Guilty? Confused? No, not at all. He’s just admiring you and doesn’t want to stop. That’s when he breaks out in a small grin and face now dusted in red. Placing aside the daises, you pull him down by the collar of his shirt, bringing his lips to yours. Not everything can be communicated with words, sometimes action is better. And you can tell how much he’s feeling from the way his lips are embracing yours, the way he lets his feelings and unspoken, loving words melt against you. He kisses you sensually, arms falling by your side and trapping you. You kiss him back with the same manner, fingers knotting themselves between his hair.

After a few, you pull away for a moment making the male whine, but your lips remain brushing against his. “Thank you,” You murmur. “I… Just so you know, you already make this world worth living in. So just please, stay by my side.”

Without another word, Hyunjin catches your lips once again, but this time more desperate, a silent way of thanking you. A silent way of loving you and promising you. He kisses like it’s the only way to pour his emotions out, like it’s the last time he’ll live under daylight. He kisses like he’s catching a breath he missed long ago. Leaning forward, he pushes you to lie flat against the mattress, one hand coming up to hold the side of your face and the other clutching the sheets. Neither of you want anything to come between, not even the world, not even the air between both your lips.

One touch like this can set your hearts ablaze, your minds and bodies trembling with a released desire. The two of you just don’t dare to pull away, letting yourselves suffocate in each other’s presence.

His lips leaves yours that lets out heavy breaths. You impulsively tilt your head once he begins leaving a trail of open-mouthed kissed on your neck. He presses his body closer, and you take advantage by bucking your hips up and against him along with giving his hair a tug, emitting a low groan from Hyunjin. “Fuck...” He breathes out, returning his lips on yours. “Promise me you’ll stay too, baby. Please.” He pleads in between.

“Yes, god yes. I’m all yours, Hyunjin.”

Because in the end, all you two really have is each other.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: SKZ Materialist*.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#just wanted to try write a new concept or two- #lmao not sure if i even want to post this #queued post #hwang hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #stray kids #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids oneshot #stray kids imagines #hyunjin oneshot #skz fanfic #skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz drabbles #hyunjin drabbles #stray kids drabbles #skz angst #hyunjin angst #hyunjin scenarios #kpop scenarios #hyunjin fluff

[tainted-wine]

I hope you don’t mind this being exclusive for the Pro-Heroes!

(NSFW)

Papers? Check. Writing utensils? Check. Lube? Check.

You were primed and ready to begin this cocktastic journey. Completing this project will be a great benefit to Thirstology. You can’t believe that they put their trust in you to collect such valuable information from several willing participants. There’s no way you’re going to let the people at National Thirst Studies down.

With your lower body completely bare, you and your ambitious pussy set out to begin the cockwarming interviews.

Yagi Toshinori/All Might

Pre-Notes: The Symbol of Peace. It’s still surreal to see him in such a fragile state. Strangely enough, I never once asked myself: Does All Might fuck? “Obviously he was too pure for fucking,” is what I would have said before I devoted my life to Thirst Studies. But I have learned over the years that there is no such thing as purity.

------

After he got over the initial shock of you wearing no pants or underwear, you were finally able to begin your study and ask him the main question.

You barely dodged the spray of blood spewing out of his mouth. “Am I into what?” He sputtered.

“Cockwarming, sir. The act of settling a penis in a nice cozy orifice. There’s no movement, only penetration. Surely you already at least knew the definition when you agreed to this?” You offered him a paper towel, which he accepted with a choked “thank you.”

“Midnight told me this would be about intimate relationships,” he anxiously explained while wiping the red off of his lips. “But I wasn’t expecting to hear something that graphic.”

Ah, so he was talked into this. “Well, with your permission, I can give you a personal demonstration.”

His answer was inaudible the first time; you had to ask him to speak up in order to hear his adorably high “yes.” He was a lot shyer than you imagined. Poor guy was shaking like he was on a verge of a heart attack when you took his cock out and boy, did he put the ‘long’ in ‘schlong.’ But your mission wasn’t to admire the dick’s appearance, it was to learn how their owners used them inside a hot snatch. You climbed onto him and lowered yourself and ooooh shit, both of you were moaning as his inches sank into you. You couldn’t take it all, but it was more than enough to get the job done.

“Mmnngh, yes, very long. Pushing almost painfully,” You said through clenched teeth, scribbling in your notepad as you sat semi-comfortably in his lap. “Can you give me your input, Toshinori? How is this feeling for you?”

“Blrraaaffggg.”

“Toshi?”

“…”

He laid limp in the interview chair as crimson liquid continued to flow from his mouth. Well, this is troublesome. You’ll have to wait for him to regain consciousness to hear his feedback.

------

Conclusion: This was his first time experiencing cockwarming. He described it as ‘intense, but not unpleasant’. Unfortunately, whenever I ask for more details, he would get too embarrassed to share anything. Frankly, this isn’t the most fruitful start to my series of interviews, but it was a great privilege to meet the amazing All Might.

Shouta Aizawa/Eraserhead

Pre-Notes: I honestly don’t even know who the hell this is. An underground hero, apparently. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you that he brought a cat with him. I told him that it needs to stay outside during the interview, but the difficult bastard was ready to turn around and leave unless I allowed the furball in. What a hassle. Do I even want to sit on this man?

------

You’re thankful that you did, in fact, sit on this man. His sleek ebony cat was relaxing in your lap while your pink kitty was stuffed with his cock. Despite his indifference to the situation, it was strangely intimate. Taking notes over a cute feline while his length twitched inside you was rather challenging.

“You seem like a rather exhausted fellow. Is it maybe the laid-back nature of the act that you find so alluring?” You asked.

“Mmhmm.” His arms circled around you to stroke his adorable pet.

“Being able to just wind down by giving your hard snake a wet hot crib to rest in?”

“Mmmmm.”

“I would appreciate a more elaborate answer.”

“Mmmmm...”

You shifted just enough to turn your head and see Aizawa’s head lolled back, his breaths getting heavier after each exhale. You can feel him quickly going soft inside you.

Ugh...

------

Conclusion: Given that he fell asleep in the middle of the demonstration, it’s safe to say that he finds the act very relaxing. I can only make guesses because the moment he woke up, he hurried me off his lap, picked up his cat and headed out. I did my best to chase him and ask if I could at least hear his final thoughts, but that bastard leaps on cars and buildings as skillfully as Edgeshot.

Hizashi Yamada/Present Mic

Pre-Notes: I’m not sure what to expect from the Voice Hero. His radio show has hosted some surprisingly insightful interviews. Unlike the last two, he will hopefully have some truly constructive answers to give.

------

“Not gonna lie, I always wanted to try this!”

Both of you were red in the face as you sat on his throbbing cock. Despite the blush and slight shake in his voice, he was as cheerful as ever. “Sometimes I just wonder, it would be pretty cool to just have a hottie warmin’ me up during my show, ya dig? No sex, though. I know I’m not quiet enough to get away with that on the air!” He laughed loudly right into your ear.

Well that kinda hurt, but it’s nice to finally have a fully cooperative interviewee. You were actually able to ask all of your planned questions for once, and Hizashi gave a satisfying answer to each one.

Unfortunately, it just couldn’t go perfectly, and his phone ended up ringing near the end of the interview.

“Hold on, listener. I gotta take this.”

Did he really? You wished he would wait until you were done.

You felt him lean back as you remained on his lap. “Shouta, buddy! What’s goin’ on?”

Shouta? Does he mean...?

“Sorry about that! I’m not home yet, I’m doin’ a...special interview, with a hard-working thirstologist.” You heard the voice on the other end respond, and Hizashi made a noise of confusion. “Eh? What do you mean ‘you too?’”

Oh dear, he does. They actually know each other.

The conversation quickly transformed into an argument, a loud one. The two heroes apparently have some...tension between them.

“Oh, so I throw hints at you for years and you act as innocent as your cats, but you’ll sit down and let a girl hop on your dick during an interview?!”

You had to lift yourself off of his softening member and take shelter from his booming voice. He was tucking himself back into his pants with one hand as he marched out of the room, but his hurt and anger was still loud and clear. “Don’t give me that bull. I bet if I hit you with twenty one questions about cockwarming, you’d just pretend you’re asleep! Oh, you actually did fall asleep? Huh.”

You awkwardly collected your notes as the two gentlemen were seemingly making up.

“Damn right I’ve always felt this way. Oh man, you better get ready tonight because I’ve got over ten years of pent up feelings, and you’re gonna take it all.”

------

Conclusion: It feels good to have a full interview. In summary, Hizashi is intrigued by the combination of closeness and casualness of it all. His interest in cockwarming during his jobs also indicate a possible thrill out of doing it in public. In addition, I’d like to announce with some pride that I may have assisted in taking two friends to the next level of their relationship.

Hawks

Pre-Notes: I’m eager to hear what the handsome winged hero has to say. I wouldn’t mind if we just stare at each other throughout the entire interview. My lust for him is unbearably strong and I’m not sure why. It’s probably just the horny writer’s obvious bias towards this bird. She could use another hobby.

------

Hawks laughed once you gave him the question that officially begins the interview. “Gotta admit, I’ve actually never tried it.”

That’s a surprise that you quickly jot down in your notes. “I see. Is it something you’re interested in trying? I can give you a demonstration right here.”

“Oh? I’d love one.”

You try not to look too excited as you leave your seat and move to undo his pants, but Hawks raises a hand.

“But I want you to do it on your knees.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “My knees? How do I-”

“With your mouth.”

Oh my.

You granted his request and kneeled down to take his half-hard cock into your mouth.

“Ahhh, that’s nice.” He sighed loudly, spreading his legs more as he stared down at you.

You detached your mouth from him to speak. “Can you tell me what it is that you-mmffrrf.”

A hand pushed you back down onto his man meat. “No no no, just...stay right there. I’ll do the talking in a minute.”

You sat there with his cock growing in the heat of your mouth. Hawks’s eyes were closed, a small content smile on his face. Every time you lifted your head just an inch, the hand on your head pressed you back down. Just when this interview was starting to feel more like a hookup, he finally began to talk.

“Oh yeah, I’ve fantasized stuff like this. You got a shitty boss? I do, don’t tell them I said that, though. They’re always finding something to get on my ass about. Working me like a dog everyday, expecting me to pull off these insane missions flawlessly.”

All you could do was look up and listen to his rant. He must have loved the sight of you, going by the strong twitch of his length in your mouth.

“They just keep asking more and more from me. ‘Do this faster next time, Hawks!’ or ‘I know you’ve never done something like this before, but don’t fail us, Hawks!’ Sometimes I just wanna shove something in their mouths...like my dick. Can you relate?”

You shook your head as well as you could in your current position.

He shrugged. “Oh well. As far as I know, I’ll always be the one getting fucked by them. But something like this...” He pat your head. “Ah yeah, it would be so nice to see them like this...”

------

Conclusion: Hawks was sadly short on time and had to leave before I could even get into the questions. Going by the very personal feelings and frustrations he shared, Hawks enjoys the dominance displayed from cockwarming, and prefers it be done orally. I will respect his wishes and not reveal any of the opinions that he shared about the establishment he works for and its executives.

Taishiro Toyomitsu/Fat Gum

Pre-Notes: It’s best that I continue to be honest: I’m anxious. Fat Gum is one of the biggest heroes around, and I just know that there is a deadly pillar of pussy destruction in those pants. I know that I should be more concerned with the questions, but it just won’t leave my mind.

------

“So, what experience do you have with this, Toyomitsu?”

The large man chuckled. He was currently in his skinny form, which you’re pretty thankful for since his fat form would have been beyond awkward to straddle. That would be like trying to hump one of those giant inflatable characters at parades. “A pretty lady I knew was really into it! I tried it for her sake, but I’ll say this with no ego, my sausage ain’t something to be taken lightly! Still, she was determined, and I was really digging just how strong her will was to take me.”

‘She sounds like a very brave soul,‘ you thought as your pen glided across your paper.

“I couldn’t believe it when she managed to get all of me inside. She couldn’t either, because she passed out! At first I just wanted to laugh it off,” he cackled as if to give an example, but his face quickly drooped into a somber expression. “But then I realized she wasn’t breathing...” His eyes shut in pain and sorrow. “And I couldn’t find a pulse...”

You nearly dropped your pen in horror. “My goodness, Toyomitsu. I’m so sor-”

“I’m just messin’ with ya! She’s fine!” His face immediately brightened up again, leaving you shocked and somewhat upset over the scare. “But seriously, if you want a seat on this big boy, I hope you’ve got plenty of lube on hand.”

“Don’t worry, I do. More than enough for the biggest flesh towers.”

But your doubts instantly returned when the bulging monster was freed from his pants. It’s huge. Toshinori may have been long, but this monster was unbelievable in both length and girth.

Your fear must have been evident on your face, because Toyomitsu asked, “You sure you wanna do this? Don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You whipped out your bottle of lube and drenched your hands. “Thirstology is my passion. My life’s work. I am more than willing to put my life on the line for science.”

The hero raised an eyebrow. “It’s...not that serious, but I really like your guts, missy.” He gave himself a few strokes. “So let me tear them up.”

Even with the coatings of lube inside your pussy and on his massive cock, this was still the most arduous task you have ever performed in your life. You didn’t know it was possible to be stretched this far. The light blonde was mesmerized by your trembles and scrunched expressions and as you tried to take more of him, his mouth slightly open when he noticed the swell in your lower abdomen.

“Oh, that is hot.”

------

Conclusion: I did it. I took the Fat Gun. Fat Gum himself takes a lot of pleasure in watching the strain of someone trying to take him in, and due to his partner often being much smaller than him, the tightness is very pleasurable to him. He was the only interviewee that actually came during the demonstration, so I suppose it’s safe to say that he is the biggest fan of cockwarming out of the five. He was very panicked when he came inside me, but I reassured him that I am on the pill. This is still a hell of a mess to clean up, however.

(I hope the information I have obtained will be useful for the institute. Thank you for giving me this opportunity)

#asks #smut #all might #shouta aizawa #hawks #present mic #fatgum #yagi toshinori #keigo takami #yamada hizashi #i got more invested in this as i went on #also how the hell do you write fatgum

[falling-pages]

A bird? A bird: Hikaru x Haruhi

in which drunk Hikaru is a mood.

-

Hikaru Hitachiin x Haruhi Fujioka

-

Enemies to lovers, non-host club au, aged up au.

-

TW: Drinking

-

The disgust lingered in the back of his throat like iron, like a bad pill you swallow but not fast enough. He fumbled the chaser to his liquor, and now he was stuck with the gross aftertaste. The refuge of his office, where he gulped down air like water, could only last so long. He couldn’t even go out in the common area, break room or restroom without having to see her--and for that, for taking away his freedom and social butterfly antics, he hated her.

Every time he saw her cute little snarl and tight little bun and stiff black skirts enraged him, filling his blood with a heat he didn’t know how to deal with. Despite her short height, she held her nose in the air as she worked, the only way she could look down on everyone like she so desperately craved. Always propping up her law degree, well this and actually that, ruining any jokes he made with a deadpan stare. She messed with his head, distracted him from his work, and for that she must go.

As much as he had tried to get her fired--and he had tried--nothing made the boss budge. He tried pulling rank, as the head of the software department; he tried using his parents’ names; nothing worked.

She’s doing a stellar job, the bossman had said. And, she’s our lawyer. If we did fire her for no reason, she would sue us into the ground.

I do have a reason, Hikaru retorted. She annoys me.

It wouldn’t hold up in court, but it seemed good enough for him.

Hikaru inhaled deeply through his nose, grounding himself by gripping his desk. Surrounded by all his trophies and achievements, he still could only think of her. He had to handle this, or else he’d go insane, but he had no idea where to start.

Kaoru. Kaoru would know what to do.

He rose from his chair, taking one last look behind him at the stained glass city through his clear glass window. Despite it only being mid-afternoon, the city was pulsing and alive with color, birds dive-bombing for food, vendors hawking at passersby, tourists mixing and bumping into natives. Tokyo was loud, and crazy, and alive, where he knew he belonged and longed to be. Even nature was straining at its leash for the workday to end, eager to celebrate the Friday night.

He turned back and shut the lights off in his office, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked. His department was rather quiet, having given his employees the afternoon off. If Haruhi knew, she would chide him, but they were so far ahead of schedule that he couldn’t risk them burning out.

Once up the stairs and around the corner, he heard his brother’s voice laughing and chatting and speak of the devil, she’s here.

It shouldn’t have surprised him. Karou and Haruhi were surprisingly great friends; he tended to mellow her out, help her unwind from the stick up her ass. He just had that calming effect on people.

As soon as he saw her, Hikaru spun a 180 and turned right back around the corner, and Haruhi would have let him, but Karou intervened.

“Hika! Come over here!” he waved, a bright smile splitting his face. “Haruhi was just telling me how much she liked you!”

Haruhi seethed, switching to a guarded pose as soon as she saw him. “I certainly was not.”

“Oh, right, my bad, she was telling me how much she liked your latest game patch,” Kaoru apologized, but it was the furthest thing from sincere. “Tell us about how you came up with it. Haruhi would love to pick your brain.”

Hikaru smirked, testing the waters as he approached. “Is that true, Fujioka?”

She frowns, pushing her bridge up her glasses up her nose. God, those glasses. She looked so dumb in them, making her eyes seem so wide, so innocent, so...pretty. All he wanted to do was pluck them off her face and laugh as she jumped for them, reaching and whining.

“I mean, it’s original, for sure,” she said. His cheeks warmed at the praise, even as she squirmed. “And it should market well, and you didn’t infringe on anyone’s copyright this time.”

That wasn’t my fault. He took the compliment with a grain of salt, biting back, “Still in the whole get-up, I see. Not much for casual Fridays?”

As amber eyes raked down her body, Haruhi concealed the shiver that ran down her spine. “No, actually, because I didn’t go to law school to wear jeans every day at work.”

“You didn’t go to law school to become a smartass, either, but here we are.”

“OKAY!” Kaoru exclaimed, jumping up between them. “Friday afternoon, yeah? Any big plans for the weekend?”

Both instigators ignored him. “That’s the uniform, you know. We tend to be pretty laid back around here.”

“Lawyers can’t be laid back. Laziness and a laissez-faire attitude is how we get sued.”

Hikaru stretched, rolling his eyes. “Woah, woah, pardon your French.”

Haruhi shook her head, and a few mismanaged strands of hair fell from her bun to brush against her neck. Her pink lips perched in contempt, and she looked so fragile, squinting behind her thick-framed glasses, that he couldn’t help but notice how tight her shirt was, tucked into a pencil skirt that hugged so tastefully over her--

“Hika!” Kaoru suddenly exclaimed. “Honey wants to know if we’re still down for drinks tonight.”

His saving grace. “Oh, my God, yes,” he moaned, salivating already at the thought of tequila burning down his throat. Washing the week away was just what he needed, especially with the way this conversation was going.

And then Kaoru did the unthinkable: With his award-winning smile, he turned to Haruhi and asked, “Would you like to come?”

Hikaru could have strangled him.

But God heard his prayers, and the resident buzzkill shook her head. “Thank you, but sorry. I don’t drink.”

“No surprise there,” Hikaru murmured.

Kaoru definitely heard that, but if Haruhi did, she didn’t react. He shot his twin a look, a be polite etched into the lines of his brow.

“Sad,” Kaoru said. He bent over to pick up his work bag, stuffing his bento within and waving to Haruhi. “Maybe next time? We can go out for boba or something.”

Haruhi smiled--Hikaru didn’t think he had ever seen that before. It did something to him; suddenly, he felt as if his body was shaking, like his throat was full of needles, like he had taken one too many to the head.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she said, and the smile disappeared when she looked at him. She gave them both a quick nod. “Have a great weekend.”

“Thanks.”

“See you Monday!”

Hikaru waited until they were out the door before punching his twin in the arm, hard enough to make him yelp.

“Dude, watch it,” Kaoru snapped, brushing over the mussed fabric of his cardigan sleeve. “It’s cashmere.”

“Stop flirting with her.”

Kaoru stopped in his tracks. A cloudy sky obscured the smirk on his face. “Woah, what’s got you so worked up?”

Hikaru kept stomping towards their subway stop, too lost in his own anger to notice who he had left behind. “‘M not worked up,” he retorted. “But you’re dating Kyoya. You shouldn’t be flirting with a girl.”

Kaoru skipped to catch up, joining him as they descended the stairs. “Kyoya said it’s fine if I flirt, as long as I come home to him every night.”

It took everything in Hikaru to keep him from shoving his brother into the sad, drab gray stone walls. He couldn’t put a finger on the irritation nettling just below his skin, or why the first layer of his heart seemed to simmer whenever he caught them talking to each other. All he could figure out was that it burned, and it made him hate her even more.

When he stayed silent, Kaoru knew he was right. He preened as he dug around for his subway card. “Boba isn’t a date.”

“Of course it is.”

“Then maybe you should ask her out on one.”

By then they were at the platform, waiting for their train. As the whistle signaled its approach, Hikaru very seriously considered pushing Kaoru onto the tracks.

“Tch. Over my dead body.”

“Then you can’t be jealous.”

“I’m not--”

Hikaru threw a punch when the train approached, distracting him and allowing Kaoru to live to see another day. As they hurried on, Hikaru couldn’t get his mind out of the gutter--or off her.

Jealous. Pshhh.

-- - -- -- - -- - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“I dunno, senpai, she just….she makes me feel something. Whenever she talks to me it’s like my hands are on fire, and my head hurts, and I feel like….like she’s stabbing me. There’s something going on in my chest, like a, like a--a bird. There’s a bird or a butterfly or something with wings in my stomach, and I don’t like it.”

Hikaru knocked back a shot and signaled for another one, eyes bleary as he tried to find the bartender. There were three of them, or maybe that was just how blurry his vision was, but he didn’t care; as long as one of them saw him and passed him another round, he’d tip them the moon.

Mitsukuni watched his friend wave to no one, the effect of one too many fireballs in the span of just two hours. He hadn’t seen Hikaru this hammered since college--and now, at 27, it just looked more like a cry for help than an occasion to let loose. And without Kaoru, who had already gone home with Kyoya and the rest of their friend group, on babysitting duty, Mitsukuni was the one left to make sure he got into a cab.

“A bird?” he asked, watching as Hikaru swung his head in confirmation.

“A bird.” A bartender came back with another shot, handing it to the redhead and giving Mitsukuni a questioning look. He waved at him, confirming he was the babysitter, and the waiter turned back around.

“Tell me about that.”

Hikaru gripped his cup, tonguing at the rim like a sippy cup. “It’s fluttering around, Honey. It’s--hiccup--like, moving. Whenever I see her or talk to her my heart just begins to pound.”

Mitsukuni bit back a smile. His vodka cran lay forgotten on the bar, but this experience was just too amusing to violate with alcohol. “And what do you think that means?”

“Means she’s gonna kill me.”

“Kill you?” His eyebrows shot up. “Why is that?”

Hikaru slurped the shot, spilling some down his chin, and Mitsukuni was fairly sure it was just plain water. “Because. She’s mean, senpai. She looks at me like she’s studying, like she’s gonna slice me in half. Like...I dunno. Like I mean something to her.”

Mistukuni twisted his wedding ring, inching closer to the discovery. He’s almost there, almost recognizing what the rest of the friend group has known for months. “And if you mean something to her, why does your heart flutter?”

“Acid reflux.”

“No, Hikaru.” He gently swatted the other man’s hand down before he could ask for another drink. “It sounds like the beginnings of love, to me.”

Hikaru gaped, not a thought behind those eyes, until it hit him like a wrecking ball. His fist fell to the bar, thudding, but he felt no pain. Only existential dread and a rocketing realization.

“Oh.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh, fuck.”

-

If you like what I write, please considering buying a coffee :)

#ouran high school host club #hikaru x haruhi #hikaharu #hikaru hitachiin #haruhi fujioka #enemies to lovers #ohshc

[kiyoomichan]

i saw that fem dom! reader is a favorite of yours to write so i thought i would request a favorite of mine. could do a little smth about reader like railing into sub kenma or oikawa (you can choose) with their strap on and like reader is a hard dom who degrades and likes to inflict pain during sex

MAKING HIM WEAR LINGERIE | KENMA X FEMDOM!SO

warnings: degradation, light feminization, spanking, pegging

A/N: all characters are strictly 18+.

i’m sorry it got a bit rushed at the end, i just wanted to hurry and finish it hhh ;;

you had just come home from a long day of work—you ran a successful fashion brand, and spent grueling hours over a sewing machine every week; so needless to say, you were tired. very tired, and very much in the need of something—or rather, someone, to take your frustrations out on.

kenma was in his gaming room, probably messing around on league with hinata and lev, as today was his day off—so you didn’t care about interrupting him.

your heels clicked on the tile floors as you made your way to him, swinging open the door with a dark expression on your face.

“baby,” you say. “turn off your game.”

he spins around in his chair, lowering his headphones. his facial expression showed he knew where this was going.

“okay, just give me 5–“

you cut him off with a dark look. “now.”

he bites his lip and nods, bidding a quick goodbye to his friends and letting you pull him up from his seat.

you place your hands on his waist, fingers gripping bruises into his soft hips. you press kisses into his neck as he wraps his arms around yours, slowly sinking into submission.

“are you alright, miss?” kenma asks in a sweet voice.

“mistress had a very hard day at work today,” you whisper in his ear. “and she needs her boy to make her feel good.” you lean back up, running your hands through his silky hair, pulling it roughly.

“can you do that for me, baby? can you be a good slut for mistress?”

he nods feverishly, a blush coating his cheeks. “yes, miss, i’ll do whatever you want—“

you cut him off as kenma begins to whine, arousal taking over his body.

“of course you will. you’re such a whore, aren’t you?” your hand runs over his tummy to grope him through his sweatpants, where you can feel the lack of underwear.

“no briefs, hmm?” you tease as he moans from the contact. “was baby touching himself?” you ask slyly, already knowing the answer.

“no,” he whispers. his hands fist in your blouse, trying to hold back from giving himself away—but you can always tell when he’s lying.

“you were, doll,” you yank down his sweats and give his ass a few slaps, squeezing the flesh tight. “you know better than to lie to me.”

your finger moves between the cleft of his ass, rubbing over his puffy, wet hole, a clear mark of evidence of his disobedience.

“a-ah!” he moans, hips bucking against you. “i’m sorry, miss, i couldn’t help it, i just...”

“you just what, baby? you were too horny, too much of a little cockslut to wait for mistress to get home and fuck you?”

“n-no, i’m not, i missed you—i missed you so much, i’m sorry, miss, please, let me make it up to you—“

you slap his face, pushing him onto the sectional in his game room. “don’t lie to me, sugar. i don’t like liars, so tell me—tell me what you are.”

“i’m...i’m a cockslut,” he whispers, flushing crimson, embarrassed at the filthy words coming from his mouth.

“speak up, now.” you say, straddling his waist and holding his hands above his head. “or your pretty little dick won’t be coming at all tonight.”

kenma squeezes his eyes shut. “i’m a cockslut, mistress! i’m your cockslut, i’m such a whore for you, miss, please—please fuck me.”

you smirk, letting go of his hands and getting off him. “go put this on, then.” you command, shoving a pink bag with your logo on it to his chest.

he blushes and peeks in the bag, looking back up at you. “mistress, i—“

you tsk, putting your hands on your hips. “kenma.”

he relents and goes to make his way to the bathroom before you cut him off, stepping in front of him. “i don’t think so, baby,” you smile sadistically. “you’re gonna change right. here.” you whisper in his ear.

“o-okay,” he mumbles, stumbling back and beginning to pull his sweats down.

you sit back on the couch, arms resting over the back in a display of dominance. “don’t be shy, doll,” you say, licking your cherry-red lips. “strip for me.”

he tentatively takes his sweats off the rest of the way, and he shivers at the cold air hitting his little cock.

kenma averts his eyes after taking off his shirt, embarrassed at being completely naked in front of you, still fully clothed.

he has to bend over to reach inside the bag, displaying his cute bottom to you as he retrieves the lingerie you’ve picked out for him.

it’s a pretty little set, white lace with pink embellishments in the form of frills and bows.

he fumbles with the bralette and garter, and soon enough he’s finished dressing, looking like an absolute dream in front of you.

kenma looks to the floor bashfully as you walk towards him. “oh, baby doll,” you say seductively, arousal evident in your tone. “i’m going to ruin you.” you slap his cheek, roughly squeezing his face.

“go get in bed—i want your legs spread and ready for me by the time i’m done picking what i’m going to torture you with.”

he quickly takes off towards the bedroom, not wanting to get in any more trouble than he already is.

you smile as you find the box you’ve stashed away under the couch in kenma’s game room—special toys you’ve been saving just for a night like this.

your hands find their way to a pink, heart shaped paddle, some silky rope, a cock ring, and of course—the thickest strap-on you have in your collection.

when you cross over the threshold to the bedroom, your eyes meet kenma’s. he’s splayed out on the bed, the city lights from the window and the yellow glow of the lamp illuminating him in all the right ways, contouring his body to make him look so small and fragile—like he would crumble under your stare.

“mistress,” he says meekly. “did you get what you needed?”

you sit on the bed next to him, placing your toys on the sheets. you look down at him, a fox like grin spreading across your face.

“yeah, baby,” you brush his hair away from his face. “what’re your safe words?”

“green for go, yellow for slow down, red for stop.” he replies, just as he’s done many times before. you know you’ll get rough with him, and with this type of play it’s important to have a way to tap out.

“good boy.” you can see the way his chest heaves at the praise, nipples peaking under the thin lace of the bralette.

you get to work by tying his wrists above his head, making your way down to slap his cock through the panties. he yells in surprise, an embarrassed look crossing his face.

“m-miss,” kenma shudders. you smirk at him, grabbing your harness and slipping it into place—you won’t fuck him yet, but you like the way the strap on makes you feel and look dominant.

“so dirty, doll. you’re so hard and yet all i’ve done was slap your pathetic little dick.”

he squeezes his eyes shut as you pick up the flogger, giving tough taps to his thigh.

“look at me, baby boy. look at your mistress.”

he opens his eyes again just as you land the flogger across his dick, and he screams at the contact.

“mistress, please!” he cries, and all you do is strike him again and again and again.

“oh, sweet boy,” you tease. “i’ve just gotten started, and you’re already in tears?” you lean over him, looking into his glossy eyes. “sit up for me.”

he obeys, and you maneuver him to sit on your lap, back to chest. from this position he can see himself in the full body mirror you have hanging on the closet door, and he flushes at the realization.

“oh, honey,” you run manicured fingernails over his lace covered cock. “you’re so wet, you’ve gotten your panties all messy.”

kenma squirms in your lap, feeling your strap against his bottom. “...’m sorry, miss, i couldn’t help it..” he whispers pathetically.

you tsk and pick up the cock ring, pulling the panties down just enough to slide it over his aching dick. his legs tremble and his lip quivers. “please no, mistress, please not the ring, please...” he whines, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood and looking down at where his red cock is hitting his stomach, balls pulled tight against the silicone.

“shh, love—it’s okay. you know babies who disobey get punished, yeah? stupid baby boys who cum without their mistresses permission have to be taught a lesson.”

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, miss, please,” he moans. you press kisses into his neck. “it’s okay. mistress is gonna fuck you now, ok? she’s gonna ruin your little hole, make you unable to walk for weeks. you’re gonna have to get carried around everywhere, and everyone will know that you’re a bad boy who got his ass punished by his girlfriend.”

kenma’s eyes fill with tears, humiliated at the thought of people knowing what you’re doing to him.

you lift him up, slowly positioning the thick head of the dildo into his tight hole before snapping your hips up, making him scream out in both pleasure and pain.

“m—mistress!”

“you like that, babydoll? you like me fucking you?” you groan, pulling his hair back. “tell me what you are, ken.”

his breath hitches, and his fingernails leave crescent marks on your thighs.

“i-i’m—i’m your cockslut, i’m a dirty boy who can’t cum by himself, i tried so hard but i need mistress’s cock—need her to make me feel good,”

you click your tongue and thrust harder up into him, watching as his ass bounces from the movement. you use the hand not pulling his hair to slap him, making him drop his head, hands fisting in the cum-covered sheets in front of him.

“how disgusting. you’re such a dumb little baby, aren’t you? your little dick is so drippy, making a such a big mess all over our sheets. i have half a mind to make you clean it up with your tongue—but you’d like that, wouldnt you?”

“please, please, miss, please let me cum, i need it so bad,” he sobs, trying to rock himself back on your strap.

“shh, shh, i’ve got you,” you smile, pressing a kiss to his neck and slipping off the ring. “such a sweet boy for me—let go.”

he whines and whines and whines, chasing after his orgasm and digging his nails into your back. “c’mon, dollface, cum for mistress.”

kenma screams as his vision whites out, seed shooting out in thick spurts across the already messy sheets. tears stream down his face as you lay him down gently, kissing his temple and cleaning up around him, rubbing a washcloth over his thighs and face.

once the sheets have been changed and his tears dried, you hold him close to your chest as he drifts off, while you whisper sweet nothings into his ear.

#kenma smut #kenma x reader #hq smut #haikyuu smut #sub!haikyuu #kenma imagines #kenma headcanons #kenma x y/n #haikyuu x reader

[scoopsohboi]

cheers, my dear (robin buckley imagine)

pairing: Robin Buckley/Reader

wc: 1759

warnings: alcohol, smut

read on ao3

The shrill sound of the landline made your skin crawl and you groaned loudly as Robin turned the dial on the stereo to drown out the insistent ringing.

“Why does he keep calling?” you whined as your best friend danced to the music while walking back to the kitchen table you two had been seated at.

It was Friday night, which meant Robin was sleeping over and the two of you had free range of the house since your mom worked late on Fridays. You watched as she swayed her hips rhythmically and your cheeks grew hot as she flipped her hair.

“Because he misses you, babe,” Robin replied nonchalantly while she grabbed the bottle of brown liquor left near two dirty shot glasses and you forced yourself to look away.

You let out a groan. You’d only been dating Greg for a couple months, and since you weren’t really interested in him, you’d broken up with him earlier after school. You thought he’d taken it well, but he’d been calling non-stop for the past hour. You felt bad ignoring the calls, but you really didn’t know what else there was to be said.

“Here,” Robin said and slid you a full shot glass.

You took the glass gratefully and, once Robin had hers in her hand, clinked it against hers.

“Cheers, my dear,” you said and tossed back the drink, now only slightly feeling the burn down your throat.

xxXXXXXxx

You didn’t remember how you’d ended up sitting on the floor in the middle of your bedroom with Robin, but you knew it had been funny. After drinking one too many shots, the two of you had run up to your room and were now laughing uncontrollably, but why it was funny was beyond you. You just liked the sound of Robin’s laugh and you’d be damned if you were the reason it ended.

You swayed a little and leaned into Robin’s shoulder as you giggled. The alcohol was fuzzing your brain, thoughts bubbling up to the surface just to pop before you could realize them. You felt good, though, that was clear enough.

Robin threw her head back and let out a hearty laugh as her body softly shook in rhythm to the sweet sound. You felt it again, that churn in your stomach and burn in your chest. You tried to fight it back, the usual routine, but the feel of Robin against you and the warmth from the whisky made it impossible.

And, if you were being honest, you just didn’t feel like pushing back the feelings.

You always had to be on your best behavior. Don’t let anyone know. Don’t say that. Don’t stare too long. Don’t touch her arm like that. Laugh so she doesn’t know how true it is. Lie. Hide.

Moments alone with Robin always felt so fragile. One wrong step and everything could shatter.

But what if she felt the same way?

You’d caught her staring, too, over the years. You’d seen the look in her eye when the two of you would stay up late during sleepovers, lay in bed inches from each other, sometimes talking and sometimes just silently being together.

Robin leaned back a little too far, fell on her back, and laughed harder as you fell back beside her.

“You’re drunk,” you laughed.

“And whose fault is that?” she retorted, a little louder than intended, and you snorted.

“Yours ‘cause you’re a lightweight,” you slurred. Robin rolled her eyes but smiled brightly.

“Shut up, I’m perfect.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t,” you replied as you rolled onto your stomach and propped yourself up on your elbows. “My perfect, lightweight, Robin,” you cooed as you reached out and cupped her cheek playfully.

Robin’s gaze shifted to your lips briefly and something inside you flared up. It was subtle, but unmistakable. A flame that was always lit simple turned up, fed by Robin’s breath as it softly hit your arm.

You leaned in easily as a surge of confidence coursed through your veins like a shot of adrenaline. You pressed your lips against hers, slightly messily at first and you thought maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to do this for the first time when you were both a bit inebriated.

But then you felt Robin kiss you back. Her hands went to your waist and her soft lips began to move with yours and fuck it if this wasn’t the best idea you’d ever had.

You moved closer so you were better positioned on top of her, one leg between her thighs as one of her hands moved to your ass and her tongue slid along your bottom lip. You parted your lips as you ground your hips down and gave much needed friction to you both while her tongue swirled around yours.

Robin let out a soft moan and encouraged you to keep moving your hips, and you were more than happy to oblige. She bit your lip and you kissed her hungrily. Robin squeezed your ass as she tried to pull you closer to her. You began to move faster and ground roughly against her, rode her thigh harder as you both grew more frantic, years of yearning and lust finally breaking free.

You broke away from Robin’s lips to kiss a trail down her neck and relished every sound she made as you nibbled the soft skin or flicked your tongue.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” you nearly growled.

You were beginning to feel lightheaded and gripped her hips for stability as you continued to ride her, her soft breathy moans made your head swim. Forget the whisky, you were drunk on Robin now.

You felt her hands tug on your hem of your shirt and you sat up more so she could lift it over your head. Robin tossed the shirt to the side before unclasping your bra with quick precision. You felt your cheeks flush uncontrollably as she looked up at you, pupils blown and lips swollen.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” she said, voice low as she cupped your breast and thumbed over the nipple.

A chill ran down your spine and you hummed softly as you bucked your hips.

“Fuck, Robin,” you muttered, and she softly pinched your nipple as she rolled her hips and urged you to keep moving.

Your breath hitched. You worked yourself against Robin’s leg and could feel your body grow hotter as soft moans escaped your lips. You’d been intimate with other people, but not like this. Never like this. This was raw, and honest, and felt more real than anything else. You wanted more. You needed more.

You moved your hands to Robin’s jeans and let your fingertips run along the skin below her bellybutton. Her hand still on your breast tightened and you bit you lip. You watched Robin’s face as you undid her button and zipper, and sucked on two of your fingers before you slipped them in below the elastic of her underwear.

If Robin had looked lustful before, she now looked like she would burst. Her lips parted and chest heaved as she drew a ragged breath, eyes wide and trained on yours as your fingers began to rub around her clit. You realized you hadn’t even needed to use any spit because Robin was already soaking wet, your fingers sliding in the slick heat.

Robin let out a louder, longer moan than the ones previously elicited, and you made sure to pay close attention to her body movements. You swirled and stayed where her hips bucked and slid inside when her fingers dug into your hips. You kept one hand between her thighs and the other under her shirt as you played with her breasts and unwaveringly rubbed yourself against her thigh.

“Fuck, y/n,” she moaned, and you could tell she was close.

You worked harder and unrelented as her back arched under you. Her moans turned frustrated as she climbed toward her climax and you leaned forward to kiss her. As her tongue touched yours, her hips bucked, and she moaned into your mouth.

You could feel her whole body tremble as you worked her through her orgasm, and you kept your fingers moving until she was done. Watching her put you over the edge as well, and it took you a moment to catch your breath.

Once you were able to form coherent thoughts again, you slid your slick fingers out from between Robin’s thighs and licked Robin off them, the flavor making you wish you hadn’t used your fingers.

“I want to taste you next time,” you admitted aloud and Robin looked speechless.

Robin leaned up and pressed her lips to yours. You kissed her back, hand on either side of her face as she led you back down with her, mouth open and tongues dancing deliciously. She cupped your ass with one hand and tangled the other in your hair, holding you firmly against her lips. You stayed that way for a moment and enjoyed the way it felt to have Robin’s body flush against yours.

“You have no idea,” Robin began before breaking as you kiss her again, unable to stop now that the floodgates had been broken, “how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

You kissed Robin’s lips softly before looking in her deep blue eyes. No idea? Did she really think you hadn’t been dreaming of this moment, too?

“I think I might,” you said as thoughts of longing stares and chest aches flashed through your mind.

“But Greg-”

“Was a distraction. And a poor one at that.” Robin’s brows furrowed and you couldn’t help but place a soft peck between them. “I only went out with him to... to try and get you off my mind. I’d hoped being with someone would make me stop thinking about you all the time.”

Robin bit the inside of her cheek as she watched you carefully.

“And?”

“And, turns out that’s fucking impossible. I mean damn, Robin, have you met you? I never stood a chance.”

Robin blinked as a soft smile grew on her lips and you couldn’t calm the butterflies that flitted about in your stomach.

“We’re dumb,” she said simply.

You laughed a little and nodded your head.

“Oh, yeah. Very.”

Robin grinned.

“I really like you, dingus,” she said sweetly as she cupped your cheek to bring you back in.

“I really like you, too, dummy,” you whispered against her lips before she kissed you, and you felt her smile.

#robin buckley imagine #robin buckley reader #stranger things fic #i havent written in like 2 years ignore me i just feel like sharing #scoopydoo #robin buckley fic #long post

[asweetprologue]

me lámh le do lámh - Part VIII

First | Previous | Next | Masterpost

They left the next day just after the sunrise broke watery through the clouds still lingering overhead, not wanting to overstay their welcome. The walk back to the nearby village was an easy one, the air still cool from the recent rain. The innkeeper hadn’t given their pre-paid room away to other guests despite the fact that they hadn’t used it for anything more than storage, which was a surprise. It was noon by the time they made it back, and they were easily able to secure the room for another evening so early in the day. Jaskier agreed to play at dinner, so they even managed to get a slightly reduced rate.

When they made it up to the room, Jaskier flopped immediately down on the bed, throwing an arm over his face. “Melitele, I could sleep for a week,” he groaned, slightly muffled. “I haven’t been this sore in years.”

“Good for you to finally get some exercise,” Geralt smirked as he checked on their belongings. Everything was where they’d left it, luckily. Geralt let out a breath of relief to see his potions all secure in their bag, the oathstone nestled amongst them.

Jaskier lifted his arm enough to glare at him. “As if walking day in and day out at your side isn’t work enough.”

“You’ve ridden Roach more than I have over the last week,” Geralt pointed out.

Jaskier put his arm down, head tilted to the side to look in Geralt’s direction. His hair spilled messily across the pale sheets. “I suppose I have,” he said, a small furrow appearing in his brow. The easy energy he’d had since they’d woken this morning was gone; now he seemed tense. His eyes lost their focus, his mind clearly going elsewhere.

Geralt didn’t know what to make of it. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’m going to go and see if they have any contracts for me. We won’t be stopping much over the next few weeks.”

At this Jaskier refocused, curious. “Where are we going next? We have all the pieces for the ritual, right?”

Geralt nodded. “The last piece is a location. We’re going back to Posada.”

*

The journey from the Brokilon to the Blue Mountains was one of weeks, rather than days. At this time of year the River Sodden and her many roads were wide open, and they were able to easily pass south under the Mohakams. This far south, spring was already giving way to summer, the warm vestiges of the Nilfgaardian desert winds finding their way to the pockets and hills of Angren and Rivia.

It should have been a pleasant journey. It was one they’d taken many times before, once Nilfgaard was no longer an issue, and they were both well familiar with the area. They kept the river to their south and traveled during the cooler parts of the day, stopping often. The wide river offered a constant source of beauty and convenience, and they were able to wash and fish regularly. Rivia, though not Geralt’s home by any stretch of the imagination, was friendly and offered plenty of places for them to stop and rest at the halfway point.

It should have been downright delightful, but instead it was… tense. Jaskier was quiet and contemplative much of the time, reserved in a way Geralt had rarely known him to be. He barely touched his lute, to the point where Geralt asked after it, only receiving a vague and unconvincing answer about saving the strings from the humidity. He spent the evening hours scribbling away in his journal, or simply lying and staring up at the stars. Sometimes, disconcertingly, he watched Geralt, especially when he seemed to think Geralt wasn’t paying attention. The furrow between his brow had grown to be near constant, and his shoulders had lost their easy swoop. When they spoke, something about Jaskier’s words felt needling, as if he was testing the waters for something. What, Geralt couldn’t even begin to guess.

He wanted to ask about it, but he found himself unable to find the words to do so. Jaskier didn’t seem mad at him—he knew what that looked like well enough, and this wasn’t it. He wanted to ask, but if he did it seemed possible, probably even likely, that Jaskier would admit that he’d figured out that Geralt was hiding something from him. He might even have realized the extent of Geralt’s feelings, or what the ritual really meant. Maybe Silvandrel had said too much, or Geralt had been too expressive, or too generous. Whatever it was, Jaskier was smart, maybe the smartest man Geralt had ever known; it wouldn’t take much for him to put two and two together. As he found Jaskier’s eyes lingering on him more and more frequently, it seemed also more and more likely that Jaskier was just trying to find a way to let him down easily.

Still, it wasn’t unbearable. Traveling with Jaskier in a mood was still better than traveling alone, and as always Geralt relished the chance to spend such uninterrupted time together. It was the best in the evenings, when their camp was already set up and the heat of the day had dispersed, and they had nothing better to do than sit and talk before both of them grew too tired to stay awake.

“What’s it like?” Jaskier asked one evening, lying on his bedroll with his ankle propped up on one raised knee. His lute was in his hands, a rare thing nowadays, but he wasn’t really playing it, just plucking a tune here or there. Testing the waters, it seemed.

Geralt was sitting with his back propped against a ragged tree stump, charred at the top where lightning had once struck. He looked up from where he was examining Roach’s tack, taking too long to reply as he was caught up in the image of Jaskier in the firelight. “What?”

Jaskier swiveled his head to look over at him, looking uncharacteristically pensive. “Being immortal. Or—not mortal. What do you even call a witcher, anyways. Semi-mortal? How long do you usually live? I’ve never gotten a straight answer about it.”

Geralt shrugged, the bridle dangling between his knees as he set his elbows to rest on them. “No one really knows,” he admitted. “Vesemir is… three hundred? We’re not sure, that’s based on references he makes, but Lambert swears sometimes he says things just to throw us off. Witchers don’t really… die of old age.”

“Surely some of you must retire,” Jaskier insisted. “Maybe not lately, but in years past…”

Geralt shook his head. “If they did, I haven’t heard of them. The Path is our life; we meet our end while on it. I know we can live for several human lifetimes, at least. I was older than you are now when we met.”

Jaskier’s mouth twisted in a smile that ached with bitter nostalgia. “I must have looked like a child to you.”

“You were a child,” Geralt laughed.

Jaskier threw something at him, and it bounced harmlessly off his knee. An acorn; the entire area was thick with oak trees. Clearing the ground beneath their bedrolls had been a pain. “Ass,” Jaskier chidded, but he was chuckling too. “I suppose we must all seem rather young to people like you though. Yennefer is the worst, she shouldn’t be allowed to poke fun at my very dignified salt and pepper and then turn around and call me an infant the next moment.”

Young man, Silvandrel had said, with that odd patronization that came only to those who would outlive most people they met. “It’s… not exactly like that,” Geralt allowed, studying Jaskier’s profile painted in orange and gold and dark dusky blue shadows. “Age isn’t the same as experience. There are eighty year olds who have done less in their lives than you had at twenty-three.” Jaskier looked over at him again, with a distinct expression of surprise and awe that Geralt was beginning to recognize as his reaction to Geralt giving him a compliment. He pushed on, turning his own gaze back to the tack in his hands. “I just mean, you don’t seem young, or inexperienced—at least not anymore,” he added, unable to resist throwing Jaskier a quick smirk.

“So Yennefer just calls me a toddler for her own enjoyment,” Jaskier said, squinting at him.

“Well, yes,” Geralt snorted. “But, it’s—you’ll understand. After. It’s not that you all seem young, necessarily, it’s just that you all seem sort of… I don’t know.” He shrugged. It was difficult to articulate the strange sense of fragility and youth that he associated with all humans, no matter their age.

“Temporary?” Jaskier offered, and Geralt grunted an affirmation. Of course Jaskier would be able to identify the feeling without ever experiencing it himself. Jaskier hummed in acknowledgement, and was quiet for a few moments, as if mulling that over. His fingers played over his lute strings, picking out a melancholy tune. After a while, he said, “It sounds a bit lonely. Knowing that almost everyone you meet will die a hundred years before you do. That they’ll never understand the way you view the world.” His eyebrows were knotted together as he contemplated the night sky.

Geralt bit his lip. “It… can be. Even amongst ourselves, we never know who’ll make it back after a year on the Path.”

Jaskier’s foot tapped the empty air where it hung over his knee. “Everyone I know, went to school with, taught with in Oxenfurt. They’ll all be gone before I will, if this works.”

Geralt felt dread unfurl within him, but this wasn’t something that he could deny Jaskier. This was the reality of Geralt’s offer, of what he was asking Jaskier to do. “Yes,” he said. But you’ll have me, he didn’t say, even though it burned at the tip of his tongue. You’ll have my brothers, and Ciri, and even Yennefer, and you’ll have me, always. That’s the point.

Jaskier looked over at him, eyes bright. He looked like he could hear Geralt’s thoughts, like maybe he was thinking the same thing. And then he grinned brightly and said, “I’ll outlast Valdo Marx by a century.”

Geralt couldn’t help the startled bark of laughter that left his throat. Jaskier launched into an excited diatribe against Valdo Marx, something about destroying his legacy after death, and Geralt allowed the babble to wash over him as he went back to fixing Roach’s tack.

After a while the conversation turned to other things, and they spent the rest of the evening in relative quiet. Eventually it was time to bed down for the night, and they banked the fire and crawled into their respective bedrolls. Just as Geralt was on the edge of sleep, Jaskier’s voice slipped through the quiet darkness around them.

“I don’t think I’m going to be.”

Geralt shook himself, turning to squint at Jaskier’s grey form, two aching feet away from him. His entire body itched to roll closer, but he focused instead on Jaskier’s words. “Hmm? You won’t be what?”

Jaskier let out a deep breath into the night air, soft like a secret. “Lonely.”

*

Posada was much the same.

Geralt didn’t know how long it had been since he’d been back. He knew he had been here post-Filavandrel incident, and he suspected Jaskier had as well, but they’d not returned together to the little valley at the edge of the world since the beginning. It had to have been at least ten years since he’d last been here on his own, but the small town was relatively familiar looking still. It had grown a bit since the war, likely as refugees from the south settled in the area, and there were new houses clustered around the outskirts. Still, the bones of it remained unchanged, and the inn was right where they’d left it.

They said nothing as they made their way into the town and headed in that direction. There was, so far as Geralt knew, no other place to find rooms for the night, so they didn’t have much of a choice. Stepping inside the small downstairs tavern should have been just like stepping into any other of the thousands like it that he’d been in, but it wasn’t. Things had been rearranged, of course; the furniture had been shuffled, and now a long table sat on the far side of the room before the fire. The small, cleared out space that Jaskier had stood in to sing was gone, filled with a cluster of tables and chairs. But the lone table in the back corner was, somehow, unmoved.

Geralt turned to Jaskier and found him staring at the spot as if entranced. He brushed his fingers against Jaskier’s forearm, and the bard blinked at him, startled back into the moment. “We should get a room,” Geralt said by way of explanation, and Jaskier nodded.

The man who arranged for their stay was not the one who had done so the first time, or the time after that, but his features were similar, so perhaps this was a son. He was amiable enough, and though Jaskier didn’t make any commitment to playing he offered them a fair rate.

Jaskier did end up playing, after they’d sat and eaten a quiet meal, avoiding the table in the corner in silent agreement. His fingers had worried at the edge of his lute case for a long moment, his eyes unfocused, and then something determined had steeled over his face and he’d stood.

There was a decent crowd this time around, bigger than the last time—the first time—that Jaskier had played here. Geralt remembered the stumbling notes, the ridiculous stories that spilled from the bard’s lips, unrefined. The way that the patrons of the bar had heckled him until he dipped sheepishly off the stage. He could understand why Jaskier might be nervous about playing here; even if no one remembered him, this had obviously been one of Jaskier’s first real performances for an honest audience.

It was like night and day. Jaskier had the entire room eating out of the palm of his hand in moments, as he always did, and his voice was clear and strong. Geralt recognized most of the songs, and almost all of them were about him, though he didn’t think any of the patrons put two and two together. Whereas Jaskier normally poked and prodded at Geralt throughout a performance to let everyone know that his muse was present, tonight he was subdued, letting Geralt watch quietly from a side table without dragging him into the proceedings. He might have thought that Jaskier had forgotten his presence entirely, if not for the occasional glance he caught Jaskier throwing his way, stealing his breath each time.

When he was finally done with his set and bowed his way out to the cheers of the audience, he made his way back to Geralt with his lute tucked under his arm. Jaskier leaned against the table in the space next to him, their knees just barely touching where Geralt’s was thrust out away from the chair. Jaskier looked down at him with almost a sheepish expression, giving him a quirked smile. “So. Three words or less?”

There were so many things he could say to that. So many things he wanted to say. You’re so beautiful, he thought, his eyes catching on the way Jaskier’s fingers wrapped around the neck of the lute, how his eyes shone in the low light of the inn. I loved it. Don’t leave me. I love you.

Instead, he said, a bit hoarsely, “Definitely more accurate.”

Jaskier laughed, some of that tension he’d been carrying for weeks breaking, and Geralt felt sweet relief at the sound. “Well I’d certainly hope so, after nearly thirty years of tailing you. At the very least I know my drowners from my nekkers.”

“At least there’s that,” Geralt chuckled, passing Jaskier a tankard of ale as he sat. “Glad to see you got something out of it.”

Jaskier took a sip of his drink, leaning his cheek on his fist. His eyes were bright when he looked at Geralt, and his expression was one Geralt recognized—he was bothered about something, but trying to keep his demeanor jovial. On anyone else, Geralt expected it would be an immaculate deception, but Geralt knew him. He wasn’t fooled by Jaskier’s court masks.

“Was it worth it?” Jaskier asked, taking another sip of his ale. His eyes left Geralt’s, flitting around the room.

Geralt frowned at him. “Was what worth it?”

Jaskier looked back at him, expression unreadable. “Letting an ambitious and no doubt obnoxious bard leave this tavern with you all those years ago.”

Geralt couldn’t help it; before he could think to stop himself, he had reached out to set his hand over Jaskier’s where it still held the handle of his cup. Jaskier jerked a bit at the touch, a drop of ale sliding down over their layered hands. “Of course it was,” Geralt said vehemently, not bothering to keep the earnestness out of his tone. Jaskier had to know. Even if he already suspected that something was afoot, even if this was some sort of test, Geralt couldn’t risk letting Jaskier think that he regretted a single moment of it. “You’re… Jask, you’re one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

Geralt could hear the sharp intake of breath at that, could see the way Jaskier looked down at their overlapped fingers and blinked rapidly. A small smile stole across his face, though there was a twist to it that seemed almost sad. “I’m glad, Geralt. Truly.”

Geralt wanted to ask, And for you? Was it worth it? But the tavern goers were quickly heading out now that Jaskier’s set was finished, and it was obvious that they would soon be the last ones remaining. And he found himself afraid, as he so often was nowadays, of the possibility that Jaskier would say no, that he should have spent the last thirty years playing in noble houses and courting beautiful women, rather than trekking endlessly after a surly witcher. He knew that it would make sense for Jaskier to have regrets, but he found that he didn’t think he was strong enough to hear them spoken aloud.

So instead he transferred his touch to Jaskier’s wrist, giving it a light tug. “We should head up,” he said, and Jaskier nodded. They pulled apart, and Jaskier finished his drink, and collected his lute. As they both turned to walk up the stairs, Geralt found his eyes catching once again on the little table in the corner. It had sat empty the entire night, as if waiting for something—or someone—to fill its seats once again.

~

Almost done folks! Just two more parts, and tomorrow’s includes the last piece of art for this story! 

tags: @whereismymonsterlover 

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geraltxjaskier #geralt/jaskier #the witcher #witcher #big bang #fic #fanfic #writing #my work #me lamh #geraskierbigbang #multichapter

[kiranogareru]

DON'T

WARNING: Angst, Bakusquad boys being assholes, violence, bullying, cursing, toxicity

A/N: 3rd person view, this is the first of a few one-shots to come, that will be improved versions of my old imagines on my Wattpad!

'Another day at my most favourite place, UA Hero Academy!' You thought sarcastically

Better known as another day of bullshit you have to endure...

You still don't have a clue how you made it through two years of this already, but it's not like it matters, as long as you are in one piece!

Your time here has been..eventful? Well that's that's one way to put it, for lack of a better word

You are walking to the cafeteria alone as per usual, praying you won't be noticed by them. Unfortunately they are already there, waiting for you to show up, like animals waiting patiently to pounce on their prey and even though the place is packed with students of all classes and departments, they somehow still spot you in the sea of people!

"Awww there she is!" Kaminari mocked using a 'cute' tone and grabbing you by the arm to bring you in the middle of the group

"You made us wait today, not manly at all!" Kirishima feigned sadness and hurt, placing a hand on his chest

"Don't be so hard on her guys. Maybe she forgot where we were meeting" Sero cooed, cupping your face with one hand and applying pressure

The look in his eyes made you uneasy, because you know exactly what is going to happen next. You've gotten used to it by now

"Today has been sooo boring" Kaminari complained

"But that's why Y/N is here man! To make our day better!" Kirishima cheers, balling up his fists and doing his signature pose

To anyone watching you, this seemed like nothing but a normal conversation, but you know better..

"You better get out of here, you damn idiots" Bakugou's voice grumbled from behind you

The words almost filled you with hope, making you momentarily forget who spoke them in the first place and making you feel like a fool for thinking that way

Bakugou was like a leading figure to these guys, so why would he put you above his friends?

If anything, he is only scolding them because there's too many eyes around and they don't want witnesses!

That thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. This is the next generation of heroes? It's just so hard to believe.. it's truly appalling!

Bakugou stayed behind 'most likely to avoid suspicion' you figured

The rest of the boys drag you outside, to a spot you have grown familiar with ever since you were a freshman. It's beside the main building, a place typically void of students or teachers!

They chose this place because they know they won't get in trouble, since this is also a blind spot for the cameras in this area!

Kirishima shoves you to the ground, which Sero takes as a sign to bind your hands and tape your mouth shut, so they can start playing their favourite game with you

A game they like to call "How long until Y/N breaks"

It doesn't take long for the first kick to fly straight to your abdomen, followed by another and a few more..they add a few punches here and there to switch up the pattern

They don't want this to get boring too quickly, of course not! They want to have fun with it..because this is their sick idea of 'fun'!

Kirishima rips the tape from your mouth, since it was starting to peal off with all the blood and spit that had started coating it!

You feel weak, you can't even activate you fucking quirk to try and defend youself! Everything hurts, but what the fuck can you really do at this point?

Hopelessness, defeat, they managed to beat into you, all the things you hate being! They have driven you to a point where you hate yourself, because of what they made you!

'How am I supposed to be a hero, if I can't even save my damn self?'

'I don't stand a chance against them anyway, they have made that very clear, since the first day we met and every time after that'

"Please stop!" You plead over and over, but there is no use however

"Why do you keep doing this?" You let out a pained cry, but the only response you get is in the form of more hits

They are treating you like a sand bag and you don't even know why. You wonder what you could have done to them to deserve this

At some point they stop and a wave of relief washes over you as you think this nightmare is finally coming to an end.

That illusion completely shatters when you hear the voice of someone you know all-too-well and realize why they stopped to begin with, but you don't have time to process anything else, because Bakugou knocks you out!

•••

Your eyes flutter open, the first thing you see being your boyfriend of nearly a year, Bakugou Katsuki!

You take in your surroundings and sit up.

'Was I brought to Recovery Girl?' You question yourself, as your right hand comes up to your head, due to a pounding headache

"Baby are you alright?" He asked, reaching his hand out to touch your cheek

"Don't" Your tone coming off quite threatening, while your fragile figure tries to get up

Your knees give out and Bakugou is quick to catch you and hold you up!

"I'm sorry baby!" He repeats the same words you've been hearing since you first started dating!

"Get the fuck off of me! Let go!" You demand, clawing at his exposed arms in an attempt to squirm out of his grip

He let's go of you and you get yourself back on the bed

He looks at you with so much sorrow in his crimson eyes, but all that does is vex you further, makes you hate him! You can't stand to even look at him anymore!

The sight of his face makes your stomach twist, his presence alone causing your blood to boil and your knuckles to ache for some action!

You're barely able to hold back right now, because looking at him has suddenly become a reminder of an agreement he convinced you to make..

His lips part, but before he can utter another disgusting, half-assed apology, you shut him up!

"No more apologies Katsuki, no more fucking lies, I don't wanna hear it anymore! I've really had enough! I just can't take it!" You stated in an ice-cold manner

"I'm sorry ok?! I couldn't do anything, it's not up to me, I can't tell them what to do! Yes, they look up to me, but I can't control them!"

Can he not hear what bullshit is coming out of him mouth? Can he not hear himself right now?

This is the only thing going through your head at the moment

"I can't stop all of a sudden, they can't know we're dating!" Katsuki says, directing his gaze to the floor

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Without a second thought your hand makes contact with his cheek, the smack echoing throughout the room

A visible, red patch in the shape of your palm forms, as he lifts his head up to meet your burning gaze once more. His expression holds complete and utter disbelief!

"You said that once we got together this would stop, you promised, but it seems like you don't want it to stop! Are you enjoying it Bakugou? Do you get off at the sight of me breaking?" You asked , well aware of the fact that you're not ready for his answer, but wanting to hear it nevertheless

"I swear I will talk to them, I just need a little more time and then-!" You cut his rambling short

"It's always the same shit with you! Spewing fake promises! This time it won't work Bakugou, I don't have the strength to do this anymore! And I don't want to waste my love and time on someone who beats me so people don't associate me with him, someone who goes to this extent so he won't be seen with me!" You confess

"I'll chan-"

"Don't say it, because it's not true and you know that! You always tell me you'll change, but you don't even try!"

"I don't enjoy seeing you in pain, I just can't stop! I've been doing this for so long, I don't know how to be anything else. But I never meant to hurt you!" He finally answered your question

"If you don't want to hurt me, you'll leave me alone! I want to be away from this so called 'relationship', it's not healthy! I need a break!" You reason

"It's not a break if you never come back to me..it's a break up!" He lowers his head once more, hair falling over his eyes, as he speaks calmly

"Come back to you? As if" You scoff, laughing out

He doesn't dare speak, he is simply staring at you, with shocked, red orbs!

"You should have stayed with the League of Villains when you had the chance! That's where 'heroes' like you belong!" You eyes shoot daggers at him,

"Now get the fuck out, you Sludge-Bastard!" You demand, using the name he hates even more than the one Midoriya calls him

He is in tears, as he leaves the school's infirmary

It isn't so much because things ended between you as it is the weight of your words!

Bakugou processes what just happened, wearing a blank expression, while he walks through the halls of UA, tears still streaming freely!

Seems like he put a lot of thought into what you told him, because the next thing you know, a new villian makes his debut

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou #bnha #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha #mha x y/n #x reader #king explosion murder #dynamight #dynamite #eijirou kirishima #denki kaminari #sero hanta #bnha bakugou #bnha kirishima #bnha denki #bnha sero #y/n #bakugou angst #bnha angst #bakusquad #angst #mha angst #mha x reader #bakugo angst

[taetaespeaches]

“I could never want less of you.”

hoseok x reader (or oc) genre: angst; fluff word count: 3.3K

a/n: Ok, I’m giggling because this was supposed to be much angstier than what it turned out to be lmao. But like, it’s Hobi and Petal, they just work shit out, idk lol. Anyways, these two are taking a big step in their relationship and it brings out some stress and insecurities and it leads to an argument that is really patched up very quickly lol. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))

SITTING at the kitchen island, you scrolled through the photos displayed on your laptop screen of a seemingly perfect apartment that was currently available. The location was conveniently placed in close proximity to both yours and Hoseok’s workplaces, the apartment was stunning, and the building was safe and secure. It appeared to be exactly what you and your boyfriend were looking for.

It was a month ago when you and Hoseok decided you should move in together. He practically already lived at your place anyway, you loved having each other around, and you absolutely planned on spending the rest of your lives together. Finding a new place together felt right.

Bookmarking the page, you wrote down the realtor’s name and number and noted a few details about the living space. Clicking onto another apartment, tapping your pen on the notebook, your front door opened, the sound drawing your eyes to see Hoseok kicking his shoes off before meeting your gaze.

“Hey, Petal,” he gave you a small smile, his eyes darting to your hand that was tapping the pen repeatedly.

“Hi, Sunshine,” you grinned before turning back to the screen to pull up the perfect apartment once again. “Guess what I found,” you said excitedly, Hoseok humming as he approached you. As he peered over your shoulder at the screen, you gestured to the laptop with a playful, “ta-da!”

“Oh, an apartment?” He questioned.

“I really like it, look,” you started, Hoseok already losing focus as he took a step away from you.

“Petal, I just got home,” he pointed out, you turning to look at him, inspecting his features. Your heart dropped at the apprehension displayed in his expression. Throughout the past week, your boyfriend had been acting less and less interested in apartment hunting, and you were beginning to take it personally.

When you and Hoseok first decided to move in together, he was the one who suggested it, stating that he couldn’t wait to have a shared space with you.

Lying in bed together, your nude forms pressed together in a post-sex cuddle, you dragged your finger across his chest as he soothed his knuckles up and down the curve of your hip.

“I missed you,” he spoke softly into the moonlit room, the illumination pouring in through the bedroom window.

“Did you miss me or my bedroom skills?” You teased, Hobi chuckling as his hand moved to tickle your side, you squirming against him until you rolled on top of him, resting your chin on his chest. “I missed you too,” you admitted before bringing your finger to his nose, tapping it gently with a “boop”.

“Your apartment is too far from the studio and dorm when the schedule is packed,” he complained with a slight whine. He had been upset all week that he hadn’t been able to see you due to your hectic new job and his demanding idol schedule with a comeback in the works. “Six days is too long,” he added.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get to the dorm to visit,” you apologized, the man instantly shaking his head.

“No, our places are just too far apart,” he pointed out. “I couldn’t get over here either.”

With your eyes raking over his face, you huffed. “My apartment is too far from everything now,” you thought aloud. “It was good for university but now my job is closer to where you’re at and it just doesn’t really make sense to be living clear out here.”

“Are you thinking of moving?” He asked, his eyes widened.

“I don’t know,” you pondered. “Maybe?”

Your boyfriend nodded slowly, watching you carefully. Inspecting his expression, you knew there was something on his mind. “What is it?” You questioned him, the man smiling in response at being caught in thought.

“Well,” he started nervously, you staring at him curiously. “You’re thinking of moving,” he added, you humming in confirmation, “and well, I’ve been thinking of my life with you. Our future,” he clarified.

“Hobi,” you realized, making him smile wider.

“Would you want to move in together, Petal?” He asked, you holding back your smile as you stared at him.

“You’re not just suggesting this because I might want to move, are you?” You asked, Hobi quickly shaking his head. “Because this is a big decision, it can’t just be made out of convenience,” you added, your boyfriend chuckling as he tried to cut in. “Like we need to actually want this,” you continued, Hoseok smiling even wider.

Calling your name to get your attention, you stopped talking to appreciate the grin spread across his face. “I actually want this, Petal,” he assured you. “I’ve wanted it, I plan on spending my life with you, I obviously want to live with you.”

The words circled your mind for a moment before a smile broke out on your face. “I want this too,” you agreed easily. “Of course I do,” you added, more telling yourself than him. “I hate not having you here in the evening,” you realized suddenly.

“So, yes? Are we moving in together in?” He asked for clarification, you scrunching your nose at him, the man letting out a cute scream in excitement, you laughing in amusement of him. “Omg, you have champagne in the kitchen,” he realized, gently rolling you off him as he ran out of the bedroom butt ass naked to retrieve the celebratory drink, only to return a second later.

“Did you forget something?” You asked through your giggles, the man nodding.

“This,” he said just before kissing you hard and passionately, pouring every ounce of love he had for you into the action. The champagne could wait.

However, as time went on, Hoseok seemed to become anti-enthusiastic about the very real apartment hunt, and it made you worry he only liked the idea in theory. When put into action, he seemed to be changing his mind.

When you turned back to the screen, Hoseok sighed, noticing your dejection. “Ok, show me,” he started, moving closer to you as you shook your head, minimizing the tab as you pulled up your email, shifting focus as you continued tapping your pen against the notebook. “Petal,” he called out.

“No,” you said simply, not wanting to get into the fight that was inevitably on its way.

“Will you please just show me the apartment?” He asked, an annoyance in his tone. Scoffing at him, you continued tapping the pen against the notebook, Hoseok focusing in on the steady rhythm as you scrolled through the pointless junk emails. “Stop tapping that,” he suddenly spoke, you dropping the pen as you pushed your stool away from the counter.

Standing, you began to walk away, pushing past Hoseok only for him to reach for your hand. You let him take it, turning to look him in the eye.

“I don’t want you to look at the apartment because you feel like you have to, I want you to look at it because you want to, because you’re excited about living together, because-”

“I am excited,” he insisted, you rolling your eyes as you pulled your hand from his. “What?”

“Do you think I’m stupid? You’ve acted bothered every time I’ve brought up apartments to you for the past week,” you pointed out, Hoseok huffing as he watched you walk further into the kitchen. “Is it me?”

“What? No. Is what you?” He asked in concern and confusion, you staring at him as your heart pounded in your chest.

“Do you not want to live with me? Is that why you’re not excited?” You asked, holding back the emotions that were bubbling to the surface.

“I do want to live with you, there is not a single bit of truth in that entire thought process, so stop,” he told you firmly, you shrugging. “I’m just tired,” he defended his recent lack of interest, you shaking your head.

“Don’t blame whatever is happening on tiredness, I know you better than that,” you informed him, the man looking at you guiltily. “You went from being really enthusiastic about the whole process and loving every apartment to nitpicking the apartments over small things to completely avoiding looking at the apartments at all,” you continued. “Something is happening.”

The man simply stared at you for a moment, you biting your bottom lip as you tried conceal the tears that were quickly working their way to the surface. Instead of speaking, he looked to the laptop, placing his fingers on the track pad.

“Don’t,” you told him, closing the laptop, Hoseok moving his hand out of the way just before you shut it completely. “What is going on?” You asked him desperately, the tears pricking your eyes as they gathered along your bottom lash line. Sighing, he looked down at the pen. “Hoseok.”

“The pen tapping,” he whispered, you glaring at him in confusion.

“What?”

Looking up to meet your gaze, he noticed the tears, his face dropping at the realization that you were nearly crying because of him. “You tap your pen whenever you’re focusing on something,” he said, furthering your confusion.

“Ok?” You questioned. “So you don’t want to live with me because I tap my pen?” You asked, the man letting out a huff of air as he shook his head, you wiping your face with the back of your hand.

“No,” he spoke in a fragile voice. “I love when you do it. It’s cute and it’s how I know you’ve lost yourself in thought.” His own emotions began taking over as he tightened his jaw.

“What the fuck is happening, what are you saying?” You questioned in frustration, not understanding the point he was attempting to make.

“People say that the small things you love about a person sometimes become the stuff that drive a wedge between you,” he explained, you staring at him in disbelief.

“Seriously?” You questioned, your boyfriend scoffing at your judgmental tone.

“Just forget it,” he dismissed, turning his face away from you to wipe his eyes.

“No, let me get this straight,” you continued, Hoseok looking back at you with a glare. “You think our relationship is so fragile that being locked in a shared living space with me as I’m tapping my pen will be the ruination of us?” You asked him coldly. “That’s what you’re saying?”

“Jesus christ,” he complained, waving you off. “What I’m saying is that I’m scared,” he admitted. “It’s a big change and I’m scared that all the weird little things about me that you love now are going to end up being the things you hate.”

A small sob escaped your lips at the realization that he wasn’t concerned about him falling out of love with you, but rather you losing feelings for him. “Hoseok, do you understand how much I love you?”

“Yes,” he told you as a tear slid down his cheek. “But I also know how fiercely independent you are and I’m worried that with too much time with me, you’ll realize you want less of me,” he told you, revealing the insecurities he had been hiding away.

“But that’s so ridiculous,” you told him, the man shrugging. “Hoseok-” you started just as your phone rang, cutting you off. Your boyfriend looked at the device that sat next to your laptop.

“It’s your work,” he told you, you sighing.

“It can wait,” you told him, Hoseok shaking his head. “No, we’re not done,” you added, your boyfriend holding the phone out to you.

“The job is new, you need to answer this,” he told you, you shaking your head stubbornly. Pressing answer for you, he gestured to the phone, you huffing and cocking your head at him, taking the phone and bringing it to your ear. Sniffling, you greeted your coworker on the other side of the call.

Hoseok walked out of the kitchen, your eyes following his every step, you listening intently as he moved about the apartment. When the shower started, you tried to focus on the call, taking the opportunity to take care of your work while he was occupied. However, you couldn’t care less about the work issue when you knew your boyfriend, who was just feet away, was so scared of you losing feelings for him. Hoseok and his worries consumed every corner of your mind, making you resort to hums and one-word answers to the fellow employee on the phone.

By the time he stepped out of the shower and entered the bedroom, your work call had ended, you instead sitting back at the island as you looked through the photos of the perfect apartment over and over. How could he not know that you’ve pictured your future with the man since your first date? Your love wasn’t so frail that your feelings would just simply go away.

You not so patiently awaited his return to the kitchen to continue the previous discussion, but he never appeared. After about five minutes, you picked the laptop up and made your way to the bedroom, quietly peeking your head inside to find Hoseok underneath he covers in bed, his back turned to the door.

Despite the tension and the leftover frustration, the concern and hurt, you felt nothing but relief in that moment. Watching as his body rose up and down slightly in accordance to the inhales and exhales that entered and left his sleeping frame, you were just thankful that he was there. You always wanted him there.

Stepping into the room, you placed the laptop on your bedside table before crawling under the sheets, and turning toward your lover. You could only see the side of his face, but he looked peaceful as he slept. You were with him. Through all of it, whatever may come. And the knowledge that he questioned that was enough to elicit tears as you draped your arm around his waist, holding yourself tightly to him as you rested your cheek against his shoulder blade, matching the air that entered and left his lungs as he breathed in and out.

The man stirred at your touch, his hand finding yours that rested at the center of his abdomen, his larger one enclosing over yours.

“I don’t know how to assure you, but I’m just so happy you’re here right now,” you told him through your tears, the man immediately turning in your embrace to face you at the sound of your emotions.

“Petal,” he frowned, you hugging him tightly as you buried your face in his chest.

“I love you so much, I need you to feel it,” you cried to him, your boyfriend pressing his lips to the top of your head comfortingly.

“I do,” he promised. “It’s just a big step, I got overwhelmed.”

“I don’t always express myself as much as I should, but I need you to understand that my love for you is the most sincere and intense mix of emotions I’ve ever had the pleasure of feeling and I don’t ever plan on letting you go,” you told him in a surprise verbal confession that neither of you expected to leave your lips. “I love you, Jung Hoseok,” you told him, lifting your face from his chest to look him in the eye, no shame, no embarrassment present. “Thank you for being here,” you told him genuinely. “I always want you here.”

The man leaned his head toward you to press a sweet kiss to your forehead, you leaning into the touch. “I know that,” he whispered against your skin. “I do, I promise I do,” he assured you. “And I don’t want to be anywhere else than right here right now.” You sighed in relief, Hobi’s lips curving into a smile against your head. “Except maybe in our shared apartment,” he added, you giggling lightly at the comment.

“I know it’s overwhelming,” you told him. “I’m nervous for it too, but I’m sure of us.” Hoseok’s smiling lips pressed a few more kisses to your forehead quickly before he pulled away to look at you.

“I am too,” he nodded.

“Good,” you told him with a small smile. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“I’m glad you did,” he chuckled.

Inspecting his sleepy features, you brought your hand to his face to run your finger along his cheek purposelessly. “How tired are you?” You asked.

“Why do you ask?” He questioned back, smiling fondly at your smirk.

“Can I show you the apartment?” You asked in a hopeful tone, Hoseok���s grin widening as he sat up quickly, nodding happily.

“Please, I really want to see it,” he told you, you wiggling in excitement before sitting up with him and reaching for the laptop.

“Ok, it’s located perfectly between your studio and my office, and it has a small little deck area, and the floors are hardwood, and omg it has a bathtub,” you ranted on, pulling the computer onto your lap. “Oh and wait until you see this fucking closet it’s mass-” you were cut off by Hoseok placing a finger to your chin, turning you toward him to immediately place his lips to yours, you easily kissing him back.

Your lips worked flawlessly against one another’s, his soft and warm as always. Pulling away from you, he beamed in utter adoration, you grinning shyly. “I really cannot wait to live with you,” he told you.

“Me too,” you agreed simply, back to your short words with big meaning. “And I could never want less of you,” you told him, the man’s gaze softening at your assurance. “Plus,” you added, intriguing your boyfriend. “If I ever get sick of you, I’ll just tell BigHit to send you on a worldwide tour,” you teased, Hoseok playfully scoffing in feigned disbelief.

“You’re so mean,” he joked, kissing your cheek repeatedly, you giggling at the action.

“You’re so obnoxious,” you retorted happily.

“I know,” he grinned, pecking your lips softly. “Now show me this thing,” he told you, gesturing to the laptop.

“Ok,” you turned to the screen, clicking on the first image. “We could have a little garden here,” you told him, “and oh my god, look, we could put a little bed here for Mickey so he can bask in the sun.”

As you went through the photos excitedly, explaining your vision to him, he could see everything vividly. Waking up and walking into the kitchen to see you dancing around to music as the coffee brewed. Cuddling on the couch with you as you both attempted to watch yet another horror movie, only getting five minutes in before you both called it quits, turning on an animated film instead. On the rare days he got home before you, he would cook you dinner at that stovetop and when you came in and greeted him gratefully, you’d sit at the kitchen island and you’d tell each other about your days. On lazy Sundays, he could see you sitting on the deck area reading a book, Mickey in your lap as you read aloud to the little pup.

Every room, every space, he could see your lives happening.

“Can you call the realtor in the morning?” He suddenly asked as you explained the specifications of the apartment.

“You want me to?” You asked, looking toward him, meeting his smile with your own.

“I love it,” he told you, you scrunching your nose before discarding the laptop to the bottom of the bed, promptly crawling onto your boyfriend’s lap as you kissed all around his face in excitement and happiness.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you repeated between kisses, the man giggling as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“I love you so much, Petal,” he replied. “I love our life.”

He truly did. And he loved your future. No matter what it brought, he already loved it. Because it was yours, together.

#hoseok #hoseok x reader #hoseok x oc #hoseok angst #hoseok fluff #hoseok drabble #hoseok drabbles #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fanfics #hoseok fic #hoseok fics #hoseok imagine #hoseok imagines #hoseok scenario #hoseok scenarios #hoseok oneshot #hoseok oneshots #jhope #jhope x reader #jhope x oc #jhope drabbles #jhope fluff #jhope angst #jhope fanfic #jhope fic #jhope scenarios #jhope imagines #jhope imagine #jhope oneshot #hobi

[superanimeidiot]

what was supposed to be a teeny tiny drabble (it’s not)

Ok so I was writing Karma’s confrontation with his mother and then THIS scene popped into my head. It doesn’t fit at all in the chapter (it’s supposed to be about Karma and his mom duh) but I really really wanted to write it anyway so I figured I would write the little scene and post it here but THEN it turned into this 2k word monstrosity that was SUPPOSED to be a SMALL SCENE but it decided it was going to make me stay up until 2 AM WRITING IT and it just wouldn’t LEAVE ME ALONE. So yeah I’m kinda sleep deprived and this has only been very lightly proofread and hasn’t gone through nearly as much fine-tuning as I normally put my writing through but it is currently 2:37 AM and I am satisfied with it for now so HERE HAVE THIS SCRAP I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

(also this is set the night Korosensei died. If I’m remembering canon right they killed Korosensei then, like, hid up in their classroom until leaving for graduation? Which is so messed up on so many levels like why did they go straight from a very traumatic event to their graduation without even seeing their families or SLEEPING???? So I hereby declare that, with the whole crisis thing, Kunugigaoka postponed the graduation ceremony and after they killed Korosensei Class E was taken to that government station place I vaguely remember they were taken to in canon and their parents were called to pick them up.)

Karma is curled up in a stiff plastic chair, knees pulled up to his chest, a shock blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and his cellphone clutched between his fingers, when his father finds him. Gakuhou doesn’t say anything. He sits beside Karma in his own stiff plastic chair and watches him, not saying a word.

Karma swallows around the lump that’s been lodged in his throat since Korosensei died. “You don’t have to stay with me,” he says, his voice hoarse from the aforementioned lump. He hasn’t spoken since the mountaintop. That’s why the police wrapped him in the shock blanket. “Mom is on her way.”

“Okay,” his father says, but he doesn’t move. 

Karma is too tired to dredge up the familiar anger. He’s too tired for anything. He thinks he’ll be this tired forever - the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that reaches to the soul and weighs his whole body down. He traces a finger across the edge of his phone. 

“They’re going to get rid of you,” he says. He doesn’t sound happy, or vindictive, or smug - just very matter-of-fact. “The parents will be out for blood, and they can’t go after the government. You make a very nice scapegoat.”

His father gives a soft exhale that could, charitably, be called a laugh. “Yes,” he agrees. “My days at Kunugigaoka are over. Does that make you happy?” he asks, only mildly curious.

Karma taps a finger against his phone, considering. “If I was a nice person,” he says, slowly, “I would say no.”

Gakuhou does laugh at that. “You’re my son,” he says. “You were never going to be a nice person.”

Karma glares from the corner of his eye, but doesn’t contest it. “It serves you right,” he decides. “After all the crap you pulled in this school, you deserve to be kicked out on your ass.”

Gakuhou nods. “A fair assessment.”

They sit in silence, neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. Karma’s phone buzzes with a text from his mother, telling him they’re fifteen minutes away but traffic might delay them. Karma wonders what kind of traffic could possibly exist at this hour, then realizes the traffic that occurs after major, life-altering events. He sends back a thumbs up emoji. His hands, unoccupied once more, begin to tap a staccato beat against the back of his cell.

His father remains absolutely still in his chair, no signs of nervous movement or absentminded tics. Clearly, Karma’s restless nature was not inherited from him. He seems content to sit with Karma in silence, but Karma, suddenly, is not.

“Why are you here?” he blurts out, with zero forethought. 

Gakuhou tilts his head. “Do you want me to leave?”

“That’s not an answer.”

His father huffs a quiet laugh, nodding his acknowledgement. “I saw the news,” he says after a long stretch of silence. “The reporter was talking about some monster in Kunugigaoka, and the government wasn’t saying anything. Nobody knew what was going on, just that something was happening and it was bad.” He pauses, and Karma waits, wondering when his father would get to the point that led him to sitting in an uncomfortable chair, keeping his estranged son company in the small hours of the morning.

“And then your mother called me.”

Karma visibly startles in his chair as a bolt of surprise rips through him. He’d been staring at his shoes during his father’s story, but now he turns to openly gape at Gakuhou. Never in a million years would he guess his mother would ever willingly, of her own volition, speak to his father again.

“Was she mad?” He realizes how stupid the question is as soon as it leaves his mouth. 

A wry sort of smile twists Gakuhou’s lips. “I think furious is putting it lightly. I couldn’t understand some of what she said through the screaming, but I got the gist. You had run off to Kunugigaoka on some suicide mission for your class, and if anything happened to you she would string me up herself.”

“She didn’t really say that,” Karma denies, then hesitates. “Did she?”

“No,” Gakuhou says drily, rubbing a tired palm against his eyes. “She was much more graphic.”

Karma’s jaw drops again. He can picture it suddenly, playing clear in his mind like a movie: his mother red-faced and rumpled in her pajamas as she screams at his father through her cell phone, crying and issuing threats in the same breath; his father, sitting at his desk or on his couch, watching the news in blank shock and listening to his ex-wife’s promises to kill him if anything happened to Karma.

Karma swallows roughly. “You deserve that too.”

“Yes,” Gakuhou agrees. “I do.”

Karma nods once, sharply, waiting for Gakuhou to resume his explanation.

“Your mother ran out of steam eventually and hung up. I called Karasuma and asked him what was going on, and he told me what he could. I woke Gakushuu up, told him what was happening and not to answer the door or phone unless it was me, and then I drove here.”

Karma nods again, thoughtfully this time. “That’s still not an answer,” he points out. “Why are you here,” he stresses, “with me, sitting in this stupid chair when you could be literally anywhere else?”

Gakuhou frowns, slumping back in his chair in a casual show of exhaustion Karma has never seen on him. “You’re my son,” he says, a raw edge in his voice, as if that is all the explanation required. “My youngest child.”

“I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“No,” his father agrees, almost sadly. “You’re not. You don’t need me to protect you anymore. This is probably more for me than you, anyway. I needed to know you were safe.”

He scoffs. “I didn’t know you cared.”

The wry smile makes a reappearance. “Neither did I. I had convinced myself I didn’t care what happened to you or your mother. At least, until you popped up in the last place I expected to find you.” He sighs softly, head tilting back to watch the ceiling. “I have many things to apologize for, Karma. I messed up with you in so many ways. But I don’t think you want to hear them right now, so I thought I could sit with you until your mother got here and…” he pauses, searching for the right words. He must give up on finding them, though, because he sighs gustily and sinks lower into his chair. “I don’t know what I’m doing here,” he admits. “I doubt I offer much in the way of comfort. Do you want me to leave?”

Karma considers. “Any other night, I would probably say yes. But tonight…” 

Tonight, they killed Korosensei. Tonight, he scraped his nerves raw during his confrontation with his mother. Tonight, he’d been sitting by himself in a stiff chair, wrapped in a shock blanket, replaying the night in his head and feeling more and more adrift until his father sat down beside him and made him feel less alone. 

“Tonight, you can stay,” he says. It’s still not forgiveness. His father hasn’t apologized yet, and Karma still hasn’t decided whether he’ll grant it. If anything, it’s a white flag - a temporary cease-fire. For now, it’s enough.

Gakuhou nods, and they settle back into silence. 

A while later, his phone buzzes again. It’s another text from his mother. They’re five minutes away now. His time with his father is ticking away. He wonders how he should spend it. Silence is probably safest. Karma is too numb right now to work up enough anger for a fight, but if he opens his mouth and says the wrong thing he might mess up the fragile truce they’ve landed on. He realizes, to his slight consternation, he doesn’t want to mess it up. 

What he does want, he realizes, is the answer to one simple question. If he’s lucky, Gakuhou will answer. If he’s really lucky, he’ll be too numb with shock for the answer to hurt too badly. 

He fiddles with his phone some more, twisting it in his fingers as he considers whether to ask his next question.  “If I ask you something,” he says, haltingly, “will you give me an honest answer?”

“Yes,” is the immediate reply.

“You’ll tell me the truth?” he presses. “Even if it hurts me? Even if it makes me hate you?”

“I thought you already hated me,” Gakuhou says, amused. Then, more serious, “I won’t lie to you, Karma. Even if it hurts. Ask your question.”

Karma nods, still considering. He checks his phone and sees he only has a few minutes before his parents arrive. Whatever, he thinks, metaphorically tossing up his hands. I’ve been torturing myself with this for years. At least now I’ll know. 

“Were you sad when mom took me?”

He’d like to say the room grew quiet after he spoke, but that would be a lie. People are still bustling around them, fielding phone calls and doing whatever government people do after a major crisis. The world moves on, even when you’re falling apart. 

Still, in their corner of the room, Karma feels like a bubble has separated him and Gakuhou from the rest of the world. The noise of other people doesn’t exist anymore. For him, there is only silence and the sound of his heartbeat as he waits for Gakuhou to answer.

It takes a long time. Or maybe it just feels long because he’s holding his breath.

“When I watched her drive away,” his father says, measuring the words out bit by bit, “and realized that was it - when I realized she was taking you and you weren’t coming back…” He sighs, a heavy sound. “Yes. It didn’t feel real until that moment. I watched the car disappear and thought I was having a heart attack. I locked myself in my office and drank an entire bottle of sake until it stopped hurting. I didn’t cry,” he muses aloud. “I think I was too sad to cry. Too sad, and I didn’t think I deserved to. It was my fault, after all. I drove you both away. I didn’t have the right to cry about it.”

Karma rests his chin on top of his knees as he processes. If he was in his right mind, he would probably be angry. That’s his typical response to anything his father says or does. The anger still feels far away right now, but he knows he’ll feel it eventually. Maybe not tomorrow (today?) or even the next day - not with grief for Korosensei still so fresh in his heart. Eventually, though, he’ll replay his father’s confession and feel a blood boiling rage he won’t know what to do with. It’s what he’s been waiting for all these years: his father admitting he loved him, maybe even that he still loves him. It’s every wish he’s ever made since he was a little kid. He’ll feel angry and heartbroken all over again, and he won’t even have Korosensei to help him deal with it (and oh, that thought sends a fresh wave of grief over him, so powerful he almost drowns in it. He latches onto the numbness and sinks further into it. It’s safer there).

He isn’t angry now, though, just numb and a little sad. He lifts his chin from his knees and presses his face against them, wrapping the blanket even tighter around himself. He’s hiding - either from his father or the world in general. He doesn’t know for sure, and he doesn’t feel like analyzing it. 

“If you had told me that six years ago,” he says into his knees, muffled but still audible, “I would’ve forgiven you for anything.”

It’s the truth. Eight year old Karma would have done anything to hear that his father was sad he left, that he loved him enough to be sad. He would have let go of every bitter feeling in his heart and forgiven Gakuhou wholeheartedly for every misdeed. Eight year old Karma, he thinks, was an idiot. 

Not an idiot, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Nagisa chides. Just a child. Just a kid who wanted to hear that his father loved him. That’s not stupid. That’s just how kids are.

His father doesn’t say anything, but Karma didn’t really want him to anyway. They’ve both said their piece. It’s too late to change the past, and neither are even sure if they have a future. Sometimes it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie. 

His phone buzzes, but this time it keeps buzzing. Twisting his head to the side so his cheek is pressed against his legs, he checks it. It’s his mother. She’s here, presumably, and looking for him. Time to go. He sighs, letting his feet fall to the floor as he stands, the blanket sliding from his shoulders and landing in a heap on his empty chair. He answers the call.

“Hi, mom,” he murmurs as he walks away. “I’m on my way out now.”

He doesn’t say goodbye.

#fanfiction #my writing #families shatter like glass series #Akabane Karma #assassination classroom #au #Karma and Gakushuu are brothers

[obeiii-mee]

Hello! I love your blog! If requests are still open, can you do HCs for the brothers reacting to an MC who views the brothers as their family, and so does a lot of affectionate touches(random headpats and hugs) and do random kind thibgs for all the brothers? Like how jealous they would be and how they would learn to cope with it because MC cares about their family as much as they do?

Hi! Sorry I took so long to make this. I haven’t checked my inbox in a while so apologies! Just to make it clear, you wanted some HCs with MC treating the brothers as family? If this is not what you asked for, feel free to request it again and I’ll make another one. I hope you don’t mind I made MC gender neutral!

I think I got a bit carried away by this, made it a bit angsty but in the end, the brothers all consider their favourite human as part of their family.

Thanks for the request! I love writing soft HCs for the brothers~~ Also this is pretty much platonic because I just needed to write something sweet.

————————————-

The Brothers with an MC who treats them like family:

Lucifer:

-The eldest brother certainly didn’t expect this

-He was pretty sure you would have a hard time adjusting in DevilDom, the place not a really fit place for humans

-But apparently, this little exchange student fitted in his family like a missing puzzle piece

-His pride took some damage because you were doing a much better job at taming his brothers than he could apparently

-In less than a week, you had Mammon waiting at your beck and call (without even having to use your pact with him)

-Levi quickly got attached to you when he realised you were interested in his hobbies (even after the whole quiz attack incident) and he required your presence pretty often

-You started bringing Beel snacks whenever you guys went somewhere and now he refuses to leave your side

-Asmo fucking adored you from the beginning and appreciated how sweet you were to him despite his flirty nature, generally happy you would go shopping with him and all that

-Satan and Belphie took a while to warm up to you, but Satan would now come talk to you as often as possible and recommend you books, help you study etc..

-As for Belphie, he tried distancing himself after the whole ‘choking you to death’ incident a while back. But he couldn’t resist how nice you were to him and how you would sing him to sleep whenever he had his nightmares

-You’ve made your way into his brothers’ hearts, somehow.

-And, though he wouldn’t like to admit it, maybe in his too

-You’ve been very affectionate toward all the brothers, giving them head pats and words of encouragement

-You were the one always telling Lucifer to go to bed already because he was working himself too much

-A fragile human scolding an over 1000 year old demon was quite amusing to him but he was also very touched

-He often insisted you wouldn’t baby him, his pride kicking in, but you’d always laugh and patted his hair in a tender manner

-It took a while for him to come to terms with the fact that a human of all things, actually cared about his family as much as he did

-He even admired you for a while, such a breakable creature giving away gifts and hugs to demons that could kill them in seconds

-You has brightened up their day more than they had ever imagined you would and in a way he was grateful

-He was grateful to you for not getting intimidated by him and for standing your ground

-He was so relieved to finally have someone who wanted to listen to him and show him the care he’s been longing for

-You could always tell when he needed something, whether it’d be affection or just some words of encouragement

-His already big ass family just obtained another member and he wasn’t exactly complaining, since his fondness for you just increased with each passing day

-Just know that doesn’t mean he will tolerate you and his brothers teaming up to do something stupid

Mammon:

-It’s like his brain short circuited or something

-Why are you patting his head???

-WHY ARE YOU HUGGING THE GREAT MAMMON?? YOU CAN’T DO THAT-

-“I heard Levi calling you a scum earlier and I thought I would give you a hug to make you feel better.”

-......

-He’s so damn confused. And flustered. But mostly confused

-I mean, he’s a demon for the love of Lord Diavolo, he doesn’t need some human to comfort him

-But at the same time he can’t refuse you, like at all

-Who are we kidding, he really loves how you cheer him up whenever he’s sad or how you randomly start giving him gifts

-At first, he really thought you were messing with him, playing some sick prank on him or being fake with him

-But after a while, he realises that everything you do for him and his brothers is genuine

-Even if you just like him platonically, he will want your focus to be on him all they time

-He notices how you give his brothers the same kind of attention and he’s very slightly jealous

-He really loves his siblings but why should you be so kind to them?

-He doesn’t understand how you can treat everyone so nicely or why

-I mean, do any of them (him included) really deserve all the hugs and head pats you give them? What about the gifts you go to the trouble of buying?

-Mammon really wishes you were part of his family. He really wishes he had someone like you to counter all the aggressive remarks he gets from his brothers every day

-He figures you’re naive at first, the way you care for his brothers and him almost blindly. It reassured him because he wants the best for them too but you don’t need to be the one making sure they are happy

-You’re always insisting to help them whenever you can and he never once heard you say a bad word directed at any of them, even if you had the right to for all the shit they put you through

-You were precious to his family

-Ironically, an angel in that house of demons

-He’s forever going to be in your debt for everything you’ve done for his family and for all the support you’ve offered him when he had nonde

-He’s never trusted someone as much as he trusts you

Levi:

-Stupid normie, trying to trick him with their obvious traps. Do they really think he’s that gullible?

-For a good few weeks, he’s completely determined to believe that you are annoying and invading his privacy and not actually interested in what he likes because why would you want to spend time with him??

-That sentiment becomes harder and harder to hold as time flies by

-You’re the only person he knows willing to listen attentively to him whenever he starts ranting about his video games/anime

-Even if you’re not the most cultured about his hobbies, you are always willing to learn for his sake

-You’ve looked after him during your stay in DevilDom, made sure he took breaks from his computer and insisted he ate

-You began hugging him and patting his head whenever he started talking badly about himself

-He didn’t realise how much he needed someone to do all this for him, how much he yearned for this kind of affection

-The few times he left his room, he became aware of how much you cared for his brothers as well

-Hey you can’t just do that! They are his brothers y’know, he should be the one looking out for them!

-Except, he knows he never really did. Which is understandable, they’re all very powerful demons, they don’t need anyone looking out for them

-It made him feel weird, the way you showed your affection for them

-Maybe you really are just a nice person in general

-Maybe you really want the best for him and his brothers

-Damn it, join his family already! Life would be a hell of a lot more tolerable if you were nearby more often

-He often feels bad, with how much you run around for them

-You really are his Henry to his Lord of Shadows

-He’s a bit envious of how you manage to get along with all of his brothers when he struggles to do so but he’s in so much awe of you

-You were the only reason he came out of his room at times, just to make sure you were safe and alright

-He shouldn’t worry about you, but he does

-He worries about you the same way he does about losing his anymore of his siblings

-Please show him that you really care about his opinions and interests, he needs someone to validate his feelings

Satan:

-You really are something else, aren’t you?

-He’s met a lot of humans over the years, learned how sociable and affectionate their kind can be but none of them could compare with you

-Your whole existence could be wiped away in the blink of an eye and yet you’re completely unaffected by this

-You prance around the House of Lamentation as if it isn’t inhabited by seven deadly demons, showing your kindness in the oddest way possible

-Head pats? Why? What’s the point of them?

-You do realise you’re hugging a demon now right? Are all humans this courageous or is it just you?

-Satan really tried not to think much of you at first

-I mean, you were just a lowly human

-Someone he could theoretically use to annoy Lucifer but that’s it

-The more time passes, the more he became aware of how intrigued he is by you

-He’s watched you talk down Mammon from doing his stupid schemes more than once, for example

-He’s seen you offer to go with Asmo shopping several times even if he was being a drama queen, like usual, just for the sake of hanging out

-And then, he noticed that you were treating him with the same caring nature

-Coming to him for book recommendations and giving some back, spending time in his room just to have a cosy chat with him about anything that came to mind

-You went along with his plans to irritate Lucifer and though you often protested, he could sense it was out of concern for both him and his brother

-He’s never had someone treat him so genuinely before, his brothers and everyone else basically walking on eggshells around him as if he were a ticking bomb

-You were just a human, but his family didn’t deserve you at all

-He envied how patient you were, even more than him at times, while still standing firm when you needed to be

-Not that he cares (he does he’s just being rebellious) but he knows even Lucifer has warmed up to you

-You always put yourself at risk by volunteering to calm him down whenever he had his fits of rage which he never understood

-He...he really needed someone like you by his side, huh?

-He likes talking to you, he likes it whenever you hug him and gift him your favourite books from the human world which he will definitely read, he loves how you stand up for any of his brothers when the need arises

-You really are something else, aren’t you?

Asmo:

-You’ve has him wrapped around your finger the moment you arrived

-He could tell from a mile away how pure and genuine you were

-He often wondered what sort of dirty secrets a person as angelic as you kept? He’s the Avatar of Lust, he can’t help it y’know

-But he’s kept most of his questions to himself, besides some much needed subtle flirting which is part of his character

-For some reason, he can’t bring himself to try and seduce you. He probably could but he never really tried

-Like Mammon, would probably want a lot of your attention too

-You can’t just give his brothers hugs and praises and ignore him! He’s the prettiest demon you will ever meet and you’re going to leave him unattended??

-Of course, he cherishes the moments where he does have you to himself, where he can talk to you and trade skin lotions and perfumes

-Solomon is special for sure, but you are very different in your own way too

-He was always so pleasantly surprised, the way you brought out the best out his brothers and himself

-You were willing to listen to him being melodramatic and never once lost interest

-I think he knew

-I think he knew you could see right through him when he talked about how he’s the most gorgeous being in all three realms

-I think he knew you could see his insecurities but you never brought it up, for his sake

-You were always there to give out hugs whenever he was upset and forever handing him gifts you just knew he’d like

-He flirted with you, but you never minded and never scoffed at him, instead giggling away and shooting some one liners back

-He wanted to get along with his brothers the same way you did

-Perhaps he’s more lucky than he originally thought, having someone like you live with him for the foreseeable future

-You treated him with respect and never ending kindness

-You treated him like family

-And you’ve shown how soft-hearted you are for his brothers too which he appreciates more than he lets on

-Yeah, he truly is lucky to have such a delightful human living with them

Beel:

-You are honestly a human right?

-You’re not angel in disguise are you?????

-You’re definitely a trustworthy and patient person aren’t you?

-Your tolerance for his brothers alone is proof of that

-You didn’t snap at him after he sneakily stole some food from your plate during dinner, chuckling his gluttony away and instead asking if he wanted more

-Whenever you were in charge of making food, he started realising that you were intentionally making more for him, knowing how hungry he gets

-You bring snacks whenever you hang out with him, patting his head and giving him hugs, something he doesn’t often receive, even from his brothers

-Words can’t even describe the amount of joy he feels whenever he sees you supporting his siblings and looking out for them during chaotic situations

-Like that time Belphie fell asleep on the couch and you carried him all the way upstairs to their room before tucking him in and letting him sleep

-He knows you’re just a human but he feels so reassured to know there’s someone there that cares about his family as much as he does

-His brothers have treated you awfully many times before but you never caved in, never once gave up on them and he had no choice but to think you’re divine

-He doesn’t get jealous of how easily you communicate with his brothers

-If anything, he’s glad to have you there whenever fights break out between them

-When you first came to DevilDom, he really just thought of eating you right there and then

-But now, he can’t even consider the idea

-He would never let anything happen to you, someone he and his brothers view you as part of their family

-You actually make him feel satisfied, in a weird way

-He’s never lonely anymore, because he’s got you and Belphie with him

-His brothers may believe he only thinks about food but he would be willing to go the Celestial Realm and back for his siblings and you

-Give him physical affection, assure him his choices have meaning to them and make sure he knows that his efforts are valuable.

-Talk him about his guilt, be the shoulder he can cry on whenever he talks about his sister and remind him that he still has his brothers and you

-But most importantly, give him some snacks to share with you and Belphie

Belphie:

-He wants to hate you, no, he needs to hate you

-All humans are worthless, heartless, stupid, naive creatures that deserved all the suffering and despair he could cast onto them

-He convinced himself of that, he convinced himself humans are more deranged than demons

-You were no exception

-It doesn’t matter what his siblings think of you, it doesn’t master what you tricked them into believing

-He wouldn’t be so easily fooled

-But, even after all the torture he’s put you through, he’s never seen you flinch around him

-After the incident, he distanced himself from you, ashamed he couldn’t even kill you, a mere human, guilt riddled with anger

-You stuck around, always giving him your smiles and persisted he spend time with you

-Humans really are stupid aren’t they? You’re just going to come back to him after he almost killed you? Have you learned nothing about the demons you now live with?

-He couldn’t deny you, no matter how hard his subconscious was telling him to

-In truth, he wanted you around, he wanted to make up for everything he’s done

-No matter how stubborn he got, no matter how many insults he threw at you, you came over to his room to kiss him goodnight (tbh you do this for all the brothers) even singing him to sleep at times

-You never got fed up with him, which was a miracle in itself

-He knew his brothers were fond of you too, the way they would follow you around like lost puppies, waiting for their favourite human to spend time with them

-His twin just as attached to you as his older brothers

-Why? How are you doing this?

-He’s so irritated by it, the way a mortal just comes along and magically gets along with everyone

-How are you doing that?

-Deep down, he knows you’re just that kind of person

-Someone who just deeply cares about their friends and loved ones

-After a few months, he starts craving your head pats too, the way you laugh at his snarky remarks, the way you insisted you,him and Beel all hung out together at once

-He started coming to you at night, whenever his nightmares began to prevent him from sleeping peacefully and you never got mad at him.

-He thinks about it, as he lays in your arms trying to fall asleep again and appreciating your warmth

-He thinks about how he wished you really were part of his family and how badly he’d want you to live with them for the rest of eternity

-He thinks about how sorry he is for everything and about how happy his family has become since you came along

-He thinks about how you must be Lilith’s decedent and how much he misses her

-He thinks about how glad he is that you care for his chaotic family

Al~

(Belphie’s is really long wtf is wrong with me. I probably deviated from the original ask a tiny bit I was in the mood to make it fluffy af)

#obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me imagines #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan