#and they stop caring completely and lash out instead; especially because the person who fucked them up like this in the first place

[vagabond-sol]

I think the Weapon of Light stuff never really took for me for a number of reasons:

1. If a villain I am actively there to kill says it then my only response is “what were you up to that required a weapon/monster to get sent your way?” And I understand they have their convictions and therefore will do anything to see their goal accomplished and that’s very respectable and all, but again if you instead took to charity work we wouldn’t be here. Always just feels like last second mind games that really would only work on a naive character who either never considered the fact that they were killing a lot of people or just really doesn’t have the mental fortitude at which point maybe you should hang it up hero. Not in an “oh you’re a pussy for not loving the bloodshed” way but in a “don’t do the job if the nature of the job tears at you mentally because the job is going to last your lifetime”.

2. Myste primarily brought back the wrong people. I’d rewrite it if I were a DRK main but I’m not, for now , so it’s just Myste asking a decent question with the worst examples. I wrote Caz as a former child soldier so he’s already done his bit of wrestling with the whole killing dudes thing. He doesn’t love murder and does actively attempt to intimidate people like conscripts or younger bandit types out of combat in later expansions; however he also knows anyone willing to fight for a cause is “accepting” that they might die for it so he really isn’t losing sleep over enemy soldiers and definitely not veteran criminals. All that being said Myste primarily summons people Caz would believe deserved to die and in Livia’s case is jazzed to break her again cause she fucked shit up in Dalmasca. Ilberd is unfortunate but by the time Caz came looking for him Ilberd had chosen a path. There’s nothing to do for him and you never could have. The city-states were to blame and anything you could’ve said has likely been said the last time he thought about extreme measures.

3. I know the story would be pretty lame/weird if ya just wrote your character to leave but yea Caz wouldn’t stay if he was just not having a decent time in anyway or at least fulfilling some kind of duty/obligation. If the killing was too much? Gone. If he felt like genuinely no one cared and he was actually just a tool to them? Gone. Heavensward is so dicey for him because it’s a scenario where him leaving is a real possibility but his good nature and some old habits when it comes to obligations keeps him around enough where he can kind of enjoy the adventures later. And I know the Scions weren’t given cutscenes where they check up on us every two seconds and shit but apart from Alphinaud’s dickhead phase I find it hard to believe they would completely cold shoulder you for the whole of ARR especially considering how they are written later and if your character is one that would try and reach out I see no reason for them to shoot you down. In whatever weird timeline where they just genuinely never treat you like a person yea, hit the bricks. People have beaten Primals before, they’ll figure it out without Caz brooding and being antagonistic the whole time.

4. Getting sent in as the lone hero may suck but if it’s the best option I can’t find reason to lash out over it. “I’ll do it but I don’t have to like it” is reasonable and close to where Cazhim is at in his Solo AU but he would never turn that frustration on his allies to the point of blaming them. It’s not the fault of the Scions that you’re the strongest guy on hand and Villains 1-50 are up to cataclysmic shit again that really needs to be stopped. Caz would be more upset if the Scions joined on Ifrit, really held their own and turned the fight in your favor, then said “nah that shit was scary you’re on your own next time” but as far as I can tell most times they either physically can’t join you or are like you’re the guy that can both not get tempered and actually hold your own while I can maybe do one of those things so I’m going to stay here and not be a liability.

If you made it this far…wow that’s potentially good or bad but regardless these are just my opinions and not meant to tell you how to write your character or that I think poorly of you or your character for feeling differently about the “Weapon of Light” thing. In fact Caz as a Scion companion would expects your WoL to be a bit tired of their situation to some degree and would not begrudge them for venting at times so long as they actually took some enjoyment in the journey/were committed the cause without being outright hostile to their allies. In general my position as a villain killer, I do like a few villains I just like seeing them die or reform more than I like seeing them continue to be bad, an ally liker, I like my non-romantic team dynamics, makes it hard for bad guys to dissuade my character. Now if we genuinely smacked around weaker folk via misunderstanding or something and got called a monster/weapon by our allies I might be on board but that’s neither here or there. Anyways, done rambling so go about your business.

#ffxiv #ffxiv oc #cazhim delrune #ffxiv rambling

[sukirichi]

— just the two of us

request: I almost read all of your jujutsu kaisen writings and I love it. Your writing is really good! I do not know if a request about a fics🥞 about satoru gojo who is really in love and not very possessive with an oblivious reader. It will be fun to see Satoru try to flirt with her and she doesn't get it🤣

pairings: gojo x oblivious! reader

notes: THIS IDEA IS SO CUTEEE I absolutely loved every second of writing it! thank you for the request and I hope you like this! 🥞 breakfast has been served!

word count: 3.3k

warnings: none, other than this is unedited and written humorously rather than seriously~

masterlist !

Gojo doesn’t know whether he’s lucky – or completely cursed – over the fact you’ve got no idea he’s so in love with you.

It’s a bright sunny morning, perfect for outdoor training, and he walks with you all the way to school with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. You stretch your arms out in the sky to bask in the morning glow and warmth of the sun, sleeves pushed up to your forearms to “get that vitamin D.”

Satoru snickers at your statement, because you’d totally be getting a different kind of Vitamin D if only you’d notice him. Sometimes he wonders, if maybe you’d inherited the Six Eyes instead of him, would you finally be able to see him – or would you still remain unaware?

He doesn’t even know where it began. A year ago, Yaga introduced you as the newest staff member. You’d been so fidgety and nervous then, unsure of what to do and worried if maybe the kids wouldn’t love. They did, of course, how could they not. Not only were you extremely fun to be with, you’re also caring, fretting and even crying whenever one of the students got injured over a mission.

Shoko reminds you all the time that this should be normal for you by now, but you always cry every time, sobbing that they’re still only kids and should be out having fun.

Yeah, maybe that’s where it began. Your kindness struck a chord in Satoru’s heart, and before he knew it, he was falling for you. Hard. Next thing you know, he shows up five minutes before you leave for work, mock-saluting you before inviting you to breakfast. He does this every damn day, and you still don’t get a single thing.

“That café was really good,” you muse, fingers stretching outwards and giggling as the sun peeks through the spaces. Satoru sighs beside you, wanting nothing more than to slip his fingers through those softer ones. “We should go back there sometime. Maybe even take the kids with us this weekend so we can all have breakfast together!”

Satoru masks a snicker with a cough. It reminds him of the time Megumi called you mom and dad by accident, to which you happily responded with before tackling the boy in hugs, while the strongest jujutsu sorcerer only flushed in embarrassment.

Him being him though, Satoru played it off cool, flipping his hair before striking a pose. “Huh, a dad?” he smirks, “The only person who gets to call me daddy would be no one else but Y/N.”

The raven haired first year student immediately recoils in disgust. Meanwhile, the innuendo flies straight through you, and you peer up at him innocently with your head tilted to the side. “Daddy? Why would I call you my dad? My father is still alive and well, and I don’t see you marrying my mom or anything,” Just as Megumi nearly howls in laughter – another evidence that you’re really something else to get the usually stoic boy to lose his composure like that – you snap your fingers, the light bulb above your head practically shining. “Oh, I get it! You prefer younger women and you want them to call you that! Kind of like the hype for onii-chan nowadays.”

Hopeless, Satoru wants to say, you’re absolutely, utterly hopeless.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Satoru shrugs nonchalantly, sending a smirk your way. It usually drives everyone crazy, but you only smile back up at him in the same way you smile with everyone, and he tries his best to not show his shoulders are deflating. Nevertheless, he doesn’t give up. “How about you and I go out somewhere this weekend? The movies, perhaps?”

Say yes, say yes – please say yes.

Really though, he’s waiting for that ‘no’ already. Satoru knows you always go out of town during the weekends to visit your family in the countryside, only coming back on Monday the next week with a basket of fruits and traditional goods that isn’t so easy to find in the city.

But then you clasp your hands together in excitement, lashes fluttering delicately as you beam up at him. “Really? You’d like to go to the movies with me?”

“Of course I would,” Satoru tries not to stutter, hiding the fact that he’s completely taken aback. He’s the Gojo Satoru for heaven’s sake, he shouldn’t be this affected by anyone’s presence. “What makes you think I wouldn’t want to?”

“Oh, nothing, I just thought you were busy. This Saturday, then?”

Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, it’s actually happening – his mind was barely functioning at this point, and he even slapped his cheeks to snap him back to life. “I thought there was a fly,” he lied with a chuckle, “But yeah, Saturday. I’ll pick you up?”

“Yeah, sure!”

Satoru wouldn’t stop smiling the whole way to the school. Even when Yuuji had face planted into the ground and Megumi sprained his ankle from training, he wasn’t able to get rid of the ridiculously big smile that stretched across his lips. He’s floating in cloud nine, flowers erupting from his ears and heart-shaped emojis bursting in his background.

“Well, you look creepy,” Shoko commented in the faculty room the moment you excused yourself, “Did you land a date with her or something?”

“That I did,” he stated proudly, even banging his fist on his chest like a deranged form of King Kong.

“I can only hope Y/N makes it out alive,” Nanami announces from behind the newspaper he’s reading, legs crossed over another before he peeks above the paper, narrowed eyes dead set on the blindfolded man. “Don’t be too wild with her, Satoru. She’s a gentle soul despite being a sorcerer – I humbly suggest you don’t mess with her feelings.”

“Are you kidding me? She’s the one messing with my feelings by being so fucking cute all the time!”

“Who’s cute?”

Shoko nearly spits out her coffee the moment you enter, glancing around the room and sitting down next to a shock-still Satoru. Nanami only huffs in his seat with a shake of his head. It doesn’t take long before Satoru regains his confidence and recovers from his shock – he’s turned to you with his torso completely facing your way.

You bask in the attention, mimicking the gesture until your faces are mere inches from one another. The fact you’re so responsive and attentive to him yet still painfully naïve strikes a mental war of himself debating whether he wants to kiss you or knock your head upside down. Satoru chooses neither options as he leans closer, his smile growing wider when you don’t pull away, and he doesn’t stop moving until his lips are right beside the shell of your ear.

“You’re cute.”

Shoko shudders at the same time Nanami just gives up on everything, folding his paper and lying that he’s got someplace to go with Ichiji. Satoru patiently waits for your reaction; for you to crumble this time around.

You’re silent for a moment, brows almost right across each other when you register his words. Satoru ends up holding his breath for your next words, wondering: is this it? will she finally understand what I feel for her now?

Even Shoko ends up sitting at the edge of her seat, silently watching the exchange with interest barely hidden in her sparkling eyes. Satoru watches as your lips open, his eyes transfixed on the way the soft flesh moves. They tilt upwards, revealing a set of a wide smile – the smile he can never get enough of. “Thank you!” you giggle at his compliment, “You and Shoko are very cute too! And the kids too, especially Toge! Not that I’m saying he’s my favourite—”

“He’s definitely your favourite student,” snorts Shoko who is ignoring the way Satoru turns completely gray beside you.

It turns out you still haven’t figured it out after all.

“The kids this – the kids that,” the tall, lanky man whines, his head falling back on the back of the leather couch. He looks so utterly defeated you can’t help but lean over him to check if he’s okay, but Satoru pouts and hides his face under his uniform instead. “Why can it never be just the two of us?”

“Sorry, what did you say?”

This time, you’ve kneeled on the couch to hover him. You even pluck one side of his blindfold off to see how he’s doing, and suddenly thankful you can’t see the way his cheeks are absolutely flaming right now. 

“Nothing,” he assures, his smile hidden behind his shirt. You look absolutely adorable hovering over him like that – eyes wide and lips pouty – what he wouldn’t give to kiss those lips right now, but it isn’t the right time, and Satoru just needs to find a better way to tell you how he feels. “It’s nothing.”

It’s absolutely not nothing.

Saturday couldn’t come faster.

Satoru finds himself willing time to go faster. Once the awaited day finally comes, he wastes no time in choosing his best outfit; an oversized black shirt tucked into black skinny jeans before styling his hair up the way he likes.

He winks at his reflection in the mirror, going ooh and aah at how hot he looks. It’s another reason why he can’t comprehend why you don’t like him yet, when, uhm, he knows he looks damn good? He’s pretty funny too – and his strength and power is already a no-brainer. Satoru can’t wrap his head around any possible reason why you wouldn’t like him; it’s basically a life or death mission at this point.

With that end goal in his mind and a spritz of perfume later, Satoru sashays out his apartment. Even though it’s already dark outside and he spent the whole day walking back and forth in his room trying to come up with ways to confess to you, he acts coolly all the way to your apartment.

This time around, he’s more than confident. He’s going to have you wrapped around his pretty little finger, “Wow,” is the first thing he says, pulling his blindfold down just to look at you.

Satoru feels blessed in that exact moment to witness how the heavens took their time with you, creating only the best out of the best and birthing the most magnificent person ever. Suddenly, he grows an urge to run to the countryside and thank your parents for going funky one night and creating you, because you’re an absolutely magnificent gift and it really baffles him how you’re real.

“Wow,” he repeats again, and you chuckle when he shakes his head. “You look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you look him up and down, smiling in satisfaction. “You look very handsome yourself.”

Satoru’s been called handsome a million times before that it’s gotten too much in his head already, but hearing it come from your lips hits different. If he was excited before, it’s nothing compared to what he feels now when you loop your arm through his, dangling off his arm like you were a lover.

He knows it’s not real and this is probably just a friendly date for you – something he intends to clear up later – but it doesn’t stop him from puffing his chest up a bit, almost as if bragging to everyone around you that he was the one you’re with, and that he was the one you’re going to the movies with.

All your babbles about everything goes straight into one ear and out the other. He wants to listen to you, he really does, but he’s so intoxicated with your voice that he just ends up nodding at everything you say; his attention mostly on how sweet you sound and smell.

His feelings only intensify a hundred times more when you finally make it to the theatre. Not only is it dark, but you’re sitting right next to him, arms and thighs brushing against each other. He takes note of every little movement you make, smiling to himself when you don’t pull away from his thigh flush against yours.

In this close proximity, your perfume overwhelms his senses. He finds himself leaning closer just to get a little more taste of it, his arm resting on the armrest beside him and placing his cheek on his open palm.

He doesn’t even know what the movie is about. All he can see, hear, feel and recognize is you – nothing and no one but you. Just as he wanted, it’s just the two of you.

Satoru reaches out to the bowl of popcorn in his lap to distract himself from the need of kissing you already. He was so smug that he’s on this date with you; now he feels like the world is laughing and mocking at him because you’re so close yet so far away. The last thing he wants is to say something weird and have you running for the hills. It’s clear you don’t like him, after all.

You end up reaching for it the same time he does, making your fingers brush. It sends a jolt of electricity down his spine and he immediately retracts it.

Looking up at him with an apologetic smile, Satoru knows he’s messed up. “I’m sorry,” you blurt out, raising your hands in surrender with a nervous chuckle. “I should’ve gotten my own bowl instead.”

Satoru stares at you through his blindfold. You’re close enough that he can count your lashes – both top and bottom row – and he’s so stupefied at this point that he just says the first thing that comes to his mind; absolutely anything just to get your attention. “Cold,” he shows you his hand, “I’m cold.”

“Oh,” you nod and slip your fingers through his. Satoru nearly gasps at how electrifying the sensation is from having your smaller, softer fingers collide with his, your hands fitting perfectly in his bigger, calloused ones. Then, you close your intertwined hands and smush your cheek with it to transfer your heat – completely unaware that Satoru feels like he’s floating in his own Infinite Void right now. “Feel warmer now?”

“Yes,” he replies. “Extremely.”

Something beast-like wakes within him after that. Now that he knows you don’t mind touching him at all, Satoru can’t help but want to take out all his playing cards and just go fuck it. So he does – and he might regret, he might not – who cares? It’s just the two of you, and you’re the only one he ever cares about this much that he’d pretty much let you do anything at this point.

“You know,” Satoru begins, shifting until your joined hands are resting on top of his chest. His heart is just about ready to burst through its confines at this moment, but he holds back. It’s now or never. “Shoko and Nanami are annoyed that I talk about you all the time.”

Your eyes widen at his statement. “Really? Do you talk badly about me or something?”

“No,” he nearly groans in frustration, “You’re really pretty and cool. You’re amazing during missions, too, when you fight, it’s like I’m witnessing a warrior princess. So cool.”

This makes you laugh until the person sitting behind you rudely shushes you. You bow your head in apology, turning to Satoru with a softer smile this time; one that looks reserved and private compared to your big grins. “Oh, no,” he closes his eyes even behind his blindfold, “Don’t smile at me like that. I don’t think I’ll still be cool if I end up stuttering over my words.”

“Satoru!” you whisper-hiss, although your chest is filled with so much giddiness too that you’ve both forgotten about the movie; unaware that the entire theatre was crying over the main character’s friend’s death. “What are you going on about?”

He wants to laugh so damn hard. He thought confessing his feelings for you would end up in a pitiful heartbreak that you’d be weirded out and push him away. For a moment, he forgets it’s you, and that nothing is ever difficult or painful with you – other than, of course, you being oblivious, but that isn’t something he can’t fix. He’ll get you on the train one way or another.

“I have a confession.”

“Yeah?”

“I was practicing how to ask you out for a whole hour in the mirror,” Satoru whispers, careful to not ruin the melancholic mood of theatre. It doesn’t even surprise him that his world is filled with nothing but sunshine even if the world around you has descended into grief and loneliness. “I also called Nanami on first date tips.”

“Nanami?” you echo with a gasp, “Why Nanami?”

“Because he’s married, that’s why. Mans know some tips for sure.”

“Wait, so,” you chuckle nervously, and Satoru waits, waits for you to pull away or push him back – anything that would indicate discomfort. He’s patient the whole time, watching carefully as you only squeeze his hand and gesture to the both of you with your free one. “This is a date? Our first date?”

“Only if you want to be,” Satoru shrugs, grimacing afterwards at how sappy he sounds. “Well, I actually consider this our first date and I’ve been waiting for this for like forever now, so I sure as hell hope you want this too. I didn’t dress myself up today only to come back home crying.”

Satoru’s heart – if possible – only beats crazier and sings the syllables of your name when you start laughing harder to the point you have to muffle it by burying yourself in his bicep. He feels like his muscles and nerves could erupt at any moment. It’s crazy – absolutely insane – how you have him wrapped around your finger like this. He doesn’t complain though; he never will.

“I’m glad,” you mumble through his shirt, your erratic heartbeat matching kiss when you take the first tentative step of kissing his jaw.

Satoru stiffens underneath you, a low growl ripping from his throat. He’s feral, wild, drunk at the sight and scent of you. You make him feel like he’s fluctuating between dimensions, all the planets just crashing on one another until the stardust is left in your eyes because what else could be an explanation for what he’s feeling other than a supernova collision of hearts?

“You always make me feel so happy when you’re around that I still can’t believe you feel the same way. I was so worried that maybe you wouldn’t get my hints.”

Satoru groans, “What the hell? How long have you liked me?”

“I guess when you started bringing flowers to Megumi randomly just to piss him off.”

Satoru wants to rip his hair out. That was just a few weeks after you’ve started working with him, meaning you both have liked each other this whole time and he’s been suffering and feeling stupid just for nothing?

“God, Y/N,” he mutters to himself, “You really do know how to make a man go crazy, huh?”

That innocent smile on your face lets him know that as usual, you’re oblivious of everything. Satoru is right; he still can’t decide whether he wants to whack you in the head upside down. With a sigh, he ends up choosing the latter, nearly falling over his seat when you let out a surprised yelp at the feeling of his lips on yours.

It doesn’t take long before you grab onto his shirt and cling to dear life, laughter bubbling through your lips as you kiss. The sound is so precious he wants to bottle it up and keep it treasure for the rest of his life, but Satoru doesn’t rush anything.

With you and only with you is he ever capable of feeling like it’s just the two of you in a world filled with chaos and destruction.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x reader imagines #gojo-satoru-x-reader #gojo x reader romance #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojo satoru x reader imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fics #jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo imagines #gojo satoru imagines #gojo-satoru-x-reader fluff

[peachycoreroo]

the forbidden fruit | zeke yeager

summary: zeke was like a second father to you and you were his favorite little girl. maybe, it wasn't normal to like your dad's best friend that much, but who cares if it's normal when it feels this good.

pairing: dad’s best friend!zeke x college fem!reader

genre: smut, pwp

word count: 5.4k

warnings: age gap, vaginal penetration, lowkey pseudo-cest bc you call zeke 'uncle', daddy kink, oral fem!receiving, fingering, oral m!receiving, mini degradation, praise kink, a few spanks, choking, zeke spits in your mouth, usage of ‘slut’, ‘whore’ and ‘slutty’, bunny as a pet name, kinda exhibitionism?, manipulation, corruption kink, dub-con vibes but you actually want it, jealousy, mentions of alcohol, smoking, dumbification, manhandling, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up kids), creampie, size kink

authors note: this is for @weepinglevi​‘s adult movie tropes collab, thank you sm for letting me join!! def check out the other amazing fics in this collab<3 this is a lot darker than my other stuff so far, but i had so much fun writing it, so enjoy my first piece for aot!! here’s a link to my masterlist

uncle zeke, or uncle zuzu as you liked to call him when you were still a child, has always been your favorite person since you were little. technically, you weren’t blood-related, but you might as well have been with how integrated into your family he was.

him and your father were best friends since middle school and you did call him ‘daddy’ a lot back then as a three-year-old, when you couldn’t grasp the concept of him not also being your dad. he was there for your birth, your childhood, your embarrassing teens and now even for your 20th birthday.

you don’t exactly know when the thing happened though.

one day, you were all a big, happy family and the next you suddenly realized, how attractive zeke yeager really was. maybe, it was the way you noticed that he was so much more athletic and broader than your father as they walked around your pool in their swimming trunks on a hot summer day. maybe, it was the way you suddenly became aware of how tall he really was, when you tried to reach a cup on a shelf too high, only to feel his presence directly behind you with his chest against your back as he reached his arm above your head and grabbed the cup, only to hand it to you with a teasing ‘you should really try this thing called growing. i heard it does wonders against high shelfs.’ or maybe, it was the way you finally registered how his gray eyes shamelessly checked you out as you walked around in your flimsy crop tops and shorts, barely covering anything.

it was so wrong, but that didn’t mean you would stop your little teasing. your dresses got shorter and shorter, dropping your keys on purpose on the way out just to flash him your lacy panties. hugging him longer than usual as he was leaving, just to press your breasts up against his hard chest. you wanted him to know you weren’t a little girl anymore. you wanted his mind to be filled with lewd thoughts about you. only you.

even when you left for college, you couldn’t stop thinking about the blond man, especially when you were in your bed late at night, with your hand stuffed in your panties and your mouth whimpering his name into the pillow. images of him, with his hard cock in a large palm, pleasuring himself with you on his mind, groaning your name, always brought you to an orgasm, but it wasn’t enough. you knew the only way to quench your need for this man was by having him, no matter how rotten your desire was.

at last, it was finally your birthday, and you couldn’t wait to get home and act upon your ploy to seduce zeke yeager. it was a foolproof plan really. nobody would even suspect you were trying to rile your favorite uncle up, and he would only react, if he wanted you just as much. what better gift for your birthday, than ultimately having the forbidden fruit you’ve been trying to deny yourself of for so long.

“happy birthday, angel!”, your family exclaimed excitedly as you came downstairs. you quickly scanned the room to see uncle zeke already sitting in his usual spot on an armchair in the corner of the living room, getting up and joining your parents at the bottom of the stairs when he noticed your presence.

knowing that he was there, you finally smiled happily, thanking them softly before being pulled into a tight embrace by zeke. “yeah, happy birthday, angel”, he lowly murmured into your ear as he pressed you firmly against him, goosebumps erupting at his slightly suggestive tone.

“thank you, uncle zuzu”, you whispered back, squeezing him tight, hoping to get the message across that you were more than happy to be in his arms.

alas, you were forced to part as your mother shoved him to the side to embrace you, your dad jokingly complaining about you going for a hug with your favorite first instead of your parents, in the background.

“well, i can’t help that i’m so much cooler to her than you”, zeke retorted playfully, earning him a light-hearted punch to the arm from your father.

the rest of the day felt like an eternity. it’s not that you didn’t enjoy spending time with your parents, especially if zeke was there, but the prospect of getting the blond male to act upon your, hopefully, mutual desires, had you looking at the clock more times than you would like to admit.

“are you waiting for something?”

you quickly snapped out of your daydreams of what could happen later, as the man with the main role in them sat down closely beside you, your thighs brushing against each other. you couldn’t help your gaze lingering where your skin touched before blinking up at him through your lashes, only to see him grinning down at you, clearly amused by your stare. time for the first part of the mission.

“oh yeah, i’ll be going clubbing with a few friends later.”

“clubbing?”, zeke pressed with a frown, “and your parents are letting you?”

zeke has always been very overprotective of you. your dad joked that it’s because you’re basically like his daughter, but you hoped it was more than that. that’s why you were counting on his overprotectiveness to eventually lead you to the desired outcome of the day aka you, stuffed full of his cum.

“mmm, yeah. it’s my 20th birthday uncle zeke, not my 10th, you know. i’m an adult”, you retorted provocatively before getting up. “’m gonna go get ready.”

you could swear you felt his irritated glare burn into your back as you made your way upstairs, grinning at the first bit of your plan succeeding.

the second step, was your appearance. just a week before that, you went shopping for the shortest dress you could find, ready to turn heads, or specifically, one head. shower, hair, makeup, baby pink lace underwear, see-through tights, black dress. you haven’t felt this hot and confident in a while with college forcing you to wear hoodies and sweatpants all day every day. no way in hell were you going to make yourself suffer through endless lectures in cute skirts and dresses.

five minutes before your friends came, one of your essential male friends included, you decided to head downstairs to make sure zeke had enough time to admire how hot you looked.

as you came downstairs, you could hear your dad exclaiming ‘look at my beautiful girl, all grown up’, making zeke turn around. goosebumps erupted as you felt his eyes slowly trail along your figure, your skin tingling where his gaze burned into your exposed skin.

you did a full spin, showing off your outfit to the three people in your living room, but only caring about the opinion of one. to your disappointment, you didn’t quite get the reaction you wanted, with zeke turning back around to your mother, continuing to talk about whatever.

no matter how much you hated it, you couldn’t stop the jealousy crawling up your tightening throat, making you sick with disgust. you knew your mother was just as much as a friend to the man of your desires as your father, but it didn’t stop you from feeling this way. you wanted his eyes on you and not some other woman, even if that woman was your own mother.

as if on cue, the doorbell rang out, your mood immediately lifting at the chance that the third step of your plan finally elicits a much-craved reaction from zeke.

you opened the door, your best friends immediately throwing themselves at you, screaming their congratulations and complimenting your attire. just like you hoped, the boy you’ve been friends with and flirted with since high school, jean kirstein, was the last one to congratulate you. he hugged you tight, leaning down, whispering a low ‘happy birthday, pretty girl. you look good enough to eat’, at the same time as your parents and zeke came into the foyer.

the hug you shared with jean lasted just a tad too long for it to count as appropriate, with you giggling excessively at his comment just to be sure that zeke heard it. and as you parted to say goodbye to your family, your flirty friend kept his strong arm around your waist, as though it belonged there.

you don’t miss the way zeke glared at jean’s arm around you or the way he had the slightest frown on his face as he told you to ‘have fun and be careful’, but when you turned around and left the house to get into jean’s car, disappointment filled you when you realized that the blond male didn’t do anything to keep you from going. all this planning and finger crossing for nothing. ‘happy fucking birthday to me’, you bitterly thought, as you drove off into the night, mood already completely ruined.

after hours of trying to enjoy the end of your birthday even for a bit, you finally had enough. jean took you home, trying to make out with you on the backseat of his car in the parking lot, but as tempting as the idea of letting him fuck zeke yeager out of your mind sounded, you couldn’t bring yourself to. the fact that today was supposed to be the day you got your dad’s best friend right where you wanted him, was enough to make you crave a nice shower and your warm bed. you couldn’t wait for this day to end.

when jean pulled up to your house, you parted ways with a quick kiss and a cheeky promise of tomorrow, before making your way into the house. it was already 3 a.m., so you were sure everybody was already asleep, as you quietly made your way inside.

“there you are. welcome back, pretty girl.”

at hearing zeke’s raspy voice out of nowhere, you flinched and let out an unvoluntary squeak. what was he doing here?

you brought your hand to your heart, feeling it hammer against your chest, your eyes snapping to the spot your dad’s best friend was sitting in, in the kitchen. “uncle zeke! you scared me, what are you still doing here?”

as you made your way into the kitchen, you finally noticed the empty tequila bottle on the table and your unconscious father, snoring on the coach in the living room, just a few feet away.

“mmm, wanted to make sure you come home safely after your dad passed out, so i waited for you”, he casually retorted while his grey eyes inspected you from head to toe. smeared lipstick, a light sheen of sweat on your skin and your dress hiked up dangerously high on your thighs.

feeling small under his calculating gaze, you once again looked at your sleeping dad and gestured towards the bottle. “guess you also had a wild party going on?”

“mh, your dad’s just a lightweight.”

the air inside the kitchen was heavy and suffocating. you knew something was wrong with the way zeke wouldn’t stop staring at you and only answered with short sentences, his usual playful chattiness nowhere to be seen.

trying to get rid of the awkwardness and your nervousness, you asked: “where- uh, where’s mom?”

“asleep”, was the short answer you got, making you even more uneasy than before. “oh, w-well. i’m gonna go and also hit the hay. thanks for staying up for me uncle zeke, good night.”

“stop.”

this one word made you halt in your tracks just as you were about to turn around, making you look questioningly back at him. what you didn’t expect however, was to see zeke yeager spread his thighs and pet one of them with a simple ‘sit down, angel.” somehow, the pet name sounded condescending as it left his lips, but that didn’t stop your pussy from clenching at the sight of him with his legs wide open, looking positively inviting like never before.

your gaze quickly flickered towards the unconscious figure in the armchair, but even that couldn’t stop you when uncle zeke was offering you to sit on his lap, like you dreamed of for so long.

your legs slowly took you towards the spot he was sitting in, only for him to pull you on one of his thighs as soon as you were in his reach. his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, while the other found its place on your thigh, your heartrate skyrocketing at the close proximity.

not really knowing what to do with your hands and where to look, you once again brought your gaze to your dad in the living room, having the perfect view of him from your position on zeke’s lap, your fingers interlocked in your own lap as to not touch him too much.

“how was the party?”, he questioned seemingly nonchalant, but his tone had a certain edge to it, that made you feel as if you were being scolded.

you chuckled nervously, keeping your eyes locked on your unconscious father, as you started uttering: “oh, uh… it was- “

only to have zeke’s palm grab your cheeks, squeezing them together in a pout, as he turned your head towards him, forcing you to focus your gaze on him.

“did you fuck him?”

zeke was watching your expression closely when he practically growled the question, taking note of how your eyes widened, your breath deepened, and your thighs automatically pressed together as the meaning of his imposing words settled in.

the jealousy could practically be grabbed as it rolled off the blond male in waves and you knew, that if you wanted your birthday wish to come true, you had to play the part of the innocent and unsuspecting little girl.

“wha-? no!”, you exclaimed supposedly offended and distraught that he would even ask such a thing, as best as you could with your lips pressed together in a pout by his large palm.

the man’s dark grey – were they always this dark? – eyes narrowed as you seamlessly pretended to not know what he was hinting at, but the way you immodestly battered your eyelashes at him, one hand finding it’s way onto the palm that was squeezing your plush thigh, showed him at you weren’t as oblivious as you feigned to be.

“no, huh?”, he chuckled darkly, his hand leaving your face to push you down onto your knees between his legs instead, “then you’re not against helping your dear uncle with a certain issue, or are you baby?”

stammering out a little confused ‘what?’, you quickly checked whether your dad was still asleep, only for yeager’s palm to return to its place on your cheeks, squeezing them once again as he yanked your head back towards him. “don’t act like a brainless, useless slut, angel. it really doesn’t suit you. you’re my smart little girl, aren’t you?”

the sickly-sweet tone he used worked like a charm on your praise-starved brain. you wanted to please him and be his good girl, no matter what it took.

looking up at him with big, wide eyes, a drop of drool fell from your pouty lips onto his jean-clad crotch when he tightened his hold on your cheeks as you nodded like an obedient little toy, making him smile proudly.

“that’s my girl. now,”, he declared, unbothered by the tiny wetness seeping into his pants, his veiny hands made quick work of his belt and zipper, “show me how much you want to help your uncle zeke.”

just the sight of him whipping out his hard cock out of the confinements of his jeans and boxers, was enough to make a small pool of wetness gush out of your cunt, not that it mattered anyway. your lacy panties were already long soaked just from sitting on his lap.

zeke’s cock was longer and definitely thicker than you could’ve ever imagined, bigger than any you’ve ever taken with a prominent vein running on the underside, the tip flushed in a pretty pink. the saliva collecting in your mouth at the prospect of having him down your throat soon made you swallow hard, while you waited for his next instructions, not wanting to disappoint him by acting impulsively.

seeing his best friends’ daughter so submissive and eager-to-please on her knees between his legs as said best friend laid, passed out, just a few feet away, made zeke’s cock twitch. he knew it was sick and wrong, but he has always been a weak man when it came to you.

“go ahead, sweetheart. make uncle zeke feel good.”

at his permission to go, you nearly lunched forward, your pretty lips coated in sticky lipgloss instantly wrapping around the sensitive tip of his dick, making him groan deeply somewhere in the back of his throat.

you alternated between swirling your tongue around his cockhead and slowly sucking, as zeke put a cigarette between his lips, lightning it. normally, you hated the foul smell of nicotine and complained numerous times about how much you hated smokers but… the sight of it dangling between his thick fingers, as his other hand lost itself inside your hair, guiding your head to bob up and down on his length, awakened something deep in you, that you didn’t even know existed.

it didn’t help that while every other person reeking of smoke repulsed you, the same scent clinging to zeke brought you a sense of comfort. the fact that he also looked hot as fuck doing it, certainly didn’t hurt.

above you, the tall man made sure to let his eyes wander to your father from time to time, mostly keeping them locked on your lewd expression and your full lips wrapped around his cock though. he knew that the man a few feet away was a heavy sleeper, especially when drunk, so he wasn’t afraid of letting you know just how pleased he was with you.

“that’s a good girl. doing so good for me, want me to cum down your throat, sweetheart?”  

you mumbled a small ‘please’ around his cock, causing him to groan huskily as your vocal cords vibrated against his sensitive tip. knowing he was almost there, you hallowed your cheeks and tightened your throat, wanting him to lose himself in the inviting warmth of your mouth.

as soon as zeke felt himself teetering at the edge, he couldn’t stop himself from quickly putting out the cig in his hand and holding your head still with his large palms as he started frantically thrusting up in your mouth. having zeke use you to chase his own high made you clench around nothing as you gagged around his length, doing your best to try and keep your jaw slack just so you could hear the man praising you again.

at the feeling of you choking on his cock, zeke’s head fell back as he moaned hoarsely, the sound going straight to the fire in the pit of your stomach already forming just from sucking him off and hearing his erotic grunts.

on the next thrust inside your warm, wet mouth, zeke emptied himself in the back of your throat with a low growl of ‘good fucking girl’, making you whine around his dick. the blond pulled you off as you started coughing, instructing you to ‘swallow, angel.’ being the whipped, little toy you did as you were told, looking up at him as you licked the remaining cum of your spit covered lips.

zeke smirked at your sensual display, whilst he stood up, pulling you up to your feet, only to push you against the dinner table and impatiently smash his lips against yours.

you had half the mind to think about how he didn’t even seem to care that his sticky cum still lingered in your mouth as he kissed you before your brain completely shut down because you were making out with zeke yeager.

strong palms wandered up your thighs under your short dress, cupping your ass while the flimsy fabric rode up as a consequence of his wandering hands. the display of strength as he easily lifted you up on the hard surface behind you, made your head spin. everything this man was doing had you weak in the knees and if you weren’t already seated, you were convinced your legs would’ve given out underneath you.

as yeager made room for himself between your thighs, spreading them in the process, your arms found their place around his broad shoulders, pulling him down even closer towards you as you tasted the whiskey and smoke on his slightly chapped lips. you could hear his soft chuckle at the displeased whimper you let out when he removed himself from you, before tracing his thumb faintly over your clothed clit. just that slightest contact with your puffy bundle of nerves had your hips twitching up, your face heating up at the obvious display of his effect on you.

“aww, is my slutty little baby desperate for her favorite uncle?”, he asked in mock empathy, ripping your tights like it was nothing, before his eyes soaked up the sight of your baby pink lace panties completely ruined by your slick.

“i see you were ready for something to happen today. were you hoping the little boy from earlier would fuck you?”, he almost snarled the question, before adding: “or were you hoping for me, bunny? are these pretty panties just for me?”

as your core gushed out more of your juices at the pet name, you obediently shook your head at his accusation of you dressing up for jean, mewling out: “y-you, daddy. only you.”

zeke closed his eyes to compose himself when his cock twitched alive once again at the sweet melody of you calling him daddy. he knew this was the point of no return. he could’ve stopped this before, he was sure of that, but not anymore. not when you oh so sweetly called out for your daddy to take care of you.

in one swift motion, your panties were gone and thrown into a dark corner of the kitchen, the only light illuminating the space coming from the turned-on lamp in the foyer from when you came home. forcing you to recline back as zeke lifted your legs up on his muscular shoulders, you shuddered as his hot breath hit your drenched pussy.

after just one kitten lick to your core, you heard zeke’s pleased hum, mumbling something along the lines of ‘just as sweet as you, bunny’, but you couldn’t tell for sure because the very next second he was diving tongue first into you, sucking, licking, and slurping like it’s his last meal. the moan that left you at his intense ministrations was downright pornographic and you could only clench around nothing as his large palm came up to silence you.

“as much as i’d love to listen to your cries, sweet thing, gonna wake your parents up if you keep at it”, he muttered against your sensitive clit, the vibrations only making you mewl against his hand.

your hands tried to find purchase somewhere, the hard surface of the table, your plush thighs, before your nails finally got a grasp of his blond locks, using the leverage as an advantage to push his face even further into your slick cunt.

the obscene, wet sounds that echoed in the room were making your face heat up, but the embarrassment didn’t stop you from grinding desperately against his tongue, his thick beard rubbing painfully but oh so deliciously against the delicate skin of your inner thighs.

when you felt two of his thick fingers probe at your entrance before pushing in, instantly hitting that one spot inside you, you threw your head back as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, thighs trembling against his head as you reached your peak around his digits. your back arched off the wooden table, thighs snugly pressing against the sides of his head, almost suffocating him in the process, while you moaned a long, high-pitched ‘daddy’ against his palm.

zeke yeager could proudly say that he’s had his fair share of women, but the sight of you, succumbing to the pleasure he was providing you with, was by far the most erotic he had the privilege of witnessing. the mix of your cross-eyed expression, your sloppy cunt clenching impossibly around his thick fingers and your body twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm, only fueled his desire to see you go dumb on his fat cock.

a hard slap against the fat of your right thigh caused you to squeal, your legs sliding down from his shoulders, completely limp from all the spent energy. zeke leaned down, once again capturing your lips in a heated make out. his warm tongue still had the distinct taste of your release on it as it slipped between your lips, his full beard soaked in your juices scratching against your cheeks and chin, but you certainly didn’t mind as long as you could have him between your legs, mouths interlocked.

“wanna see your cute lil’ ass while i wreck you, bunny. can you turn around for daddy?”, he questioned, voice raspy, but he didn’t actually wait for an answer, grabbing your hips in a bruising grip and flipping you over on your stomach, ass pressed up against his crotch already. not being able to control yourself at another clear display that his muscles weren’t just for show, your hips automatically grinded back against his painfully hard cock.

another strong blow was delivered, this time to your bouncy behind, your small mewl echoing in the large space. “slutty, desperate whores aren’t appreciated here, bunny. thought you were daddy’s good, little girl? guess daddy was wrong about you”, zeke sighed in faux disappointment, knowing you would do anything for him to keep praising you.

“n-no! am your good, little girl! ‘m sorry, daddy, please don’t leave”, you practically sobbed out, to drunk on his touch to realize the manipulative undertone in his phrasing.

smirking victoriously, the blond tenderly smoothed his huge palm, with his fingers covered in your already dried up essences, over your ass check, his fat tip nudging against your soaked entrance, whilst he shh-ed you, promising that he’s ‘not gonna leave you bunny, ‘m all yours.’

at the promise of him belonging to you, your eyes rolled into the back of your head, just as yeager decided to push his aching dick into your tight pussy. at the first bump against your gummy walls, you both knew no one would ever be able to compare. it was a tight fit as he continued to push past the resistance of your cunt, hissing at the continuous contractions around his sensitive cock. no way in hell, he thought to himself as he already had to hold himself back from cumming as if he were some virgin all over again.

when he finally bottomed out, his patience was close to non-existent, so without waiting for you to adjust, he started thrusting in you like a mad man. your hands flew out to grab the other edge of the wooden surface to have some kind of support, as his powerful thrusts made the whole table shake and drag across the tiled floor.

“’s too much, daddy! slow down!”, you wailed, knowing full well that this was exactly what you waited for all this time. the dark chuckle that left his panting and grunting mouth told you that he was also very aware of the fact that you didn’t actually want him to slow down, so the only reaction you got, besides his acknowledging chuckle, were his thrusts picking up in speed.

after another strong hit to your jiggling ass and a groan that sounded suspiciously like ‘such a perfect ass’, zeke leaned over you, completely covering you with his large frame. his hand found its way to your front, giving your tits a quick squeeze through your dress, before continuing its journey up, finally settling around your neck.

as it constricted around your neck, thick fingers expertly pressing against the pressure points, restricting the air flow oh so deliciously, your spit-covered lips fell open in a silent ‘o’, the act lurching you impossibly closer to your orgasm. at this point, the only coherent words you were able to formulate were ‘yes’, ‘daddy’ and ‘please’, causing the tall man’s chest to fill with pride at your dumbed out state.

“my cute, submissive, little bunny. have i fucked you stupid with my cock?”, he teased, only to get his confirmation by the lack of response on your side, too far gone to process that he asked a question.

the rhythmic clenching of your warm core reminded him that his dick was practically begging him to let it stuff you full of his sticky cum, so as his grip on your throat and hip tightened even more, he let his carnal desires take over as he rutted impossibly faster inside you.

every thrust caused his fat tip to poke harshly against your cervix, the feeling of pain only fueling your pleasure, as you silently took all your favorite uncle was giving you. somewhere in the back of your mind the thought of your father sleeping just in the next room flew around, but it quickly got fucked back out by zeke’s fat cock.

at the next rough plunge inside your warm walls and the low growl of ‘cum on daddy’s fucking cock, bunny’ directly beside your ear, you came undone with a loud moan of his name. you were pretty sure the force of your orgasm made you blackout for a second, because the next time you came to your senses, zeke was shooting his load inside your inviting cunt directly at your cervix, your name leaving his lips like a prayer.

you were exhausted. your whole body shook and twitched, your stomach hurt from being pressed against the edge of the dinner table for so long, sweat dripping down on the surface from your face and neck.

suddenly the room was way too quiet, safe for the heavy breathing and your occasional whimpers. slowly, zeke pulled out, only to spread your cheeks apart to take a good luck at your abused pussy pushing out his white cum. it slowly trickled down your legs, mixing with your leaked juices on the tiles beneath your feet.

not having the energy to move, you let the blond male pull down your dress back over your ass, listening to the rustle of fabric and belt clicking as he got dressed again. just as he gently helped you stand-up again, you could hear a yawn coming from the doorway that led to the living room.

“what’re you both doing?”, your half-awake father asked as he made his way through the kitchen past you to get to the foyer. your nails dug into zeke’s muscular forearms as the panic of getting caught formed in the pit of your stomach, only to hear the older man murmur a casual, seemingly sleepy ‘she just got home, gonna go sleep now’, as though he wasn’t blowing out your back just a few minutes prior.

with an unsuspecting ‘’aight, night you two’, your dad disappeared in the shared bedroom with your sleeping mother.

“fuck”, you breathed out, stressed at almost being caught and your legs buckling, only for zeke’s strong arms to hold you up right.

“hey, look at me, angel”, the male softly demanded, gaze tender as your eyes met his. “i’ll bring you to bed and clean up here, okay? don’t worry about a thing.”

a sleepy, but happy smile stretched itself across your lips at him caring for you so deeply.

“open your mouth, sweetheart.”

without second-guessing the request, you obediently opened your mouth, only to feel his saliva hit your outstretched tongue. the taste made you mewl needily as you realized what it all meant. you were his and he was yours.

zeke chuckled, amused by your blissed out expression, before pecking your lips, picking you up and caring you to your room with you mumbling a satisfied ‘best birthday ever’ against his neck.

#zeke yeager #zeke smut #zeke yeager smut #zeke jaeger #zeke jaeger smut #aot smut #snk smut #attack on titan smut #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #zeke x reader #zeke yeager x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #lera.writes #lera.collabs #age gap tw #degradation tw #choking tw #daddy kink tw #alcohol tw #exhibitionism tw #manipulation tw #corruption tw #dubcon tw #pseudocest tw #smoking tw #dumbification tw

[please-buckme]

A Broken Heart.

Chapter 1

Lee Bodecker x fem!reader

Chapter warnings: slight mentions of sex, 18+,hitting, sad shit, break up, heart break, angst, cursing

Chapter Summary: reader and Lee breakup.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2 //Chapter 3

The world felt as if it were shattering around you, crumbling beneath your feet like the rapture was upon you. Honestly, if the world did come to an end right now you’d be elated. At least you wouldn’t have to deal with your broken heart anymore.

You sat against a wall in your room, wallowing in your own self petty. It’d be three days since Lee Bodecker had broken things off with you. He had said that you were hurting his campaign, that he still loved you but needed a woman of power to help him become sheriff of this godforsaken town.

Lee had taken you out in the same field he took you to every time y’all made love. He kissed you so passionately, held you so closely. If you weren’t so caught up in the way his hands felt against your bare skin, you would’ve noticed how distraught he was the entire time he made love to you. It was his way of saying goodbye before he actually said goodbye. After he’d broken up with you, you felt disgusting and violated.

You’d never felt like that with Lee. He was your deputy and sinner in disguise. He was your rock and your soft place to fall. When the tears finally fill, the most empty feeling you’d ever felt emerged in your gut. One day you thought you were gonna be Mrs. Lee Bodecker. You daydreamed constantly of your wedding day and sharing a bed with the man you loved for the rest of your life ‘til you were old and gray. To know now that dream will always remain a dream.. that’s what hurt the most.

After Lee drove you home, you sat in your room for three days straight, not even coming out for supper. Your momma tried to convince you to eat and it worked once on the second day, until you threw up right after.

She didn’t understand. She’d never been in love, not really. Not love like you and Lee had. People told y’all all the time how rare and beautiful your love for one another was and you agreed. Just looking back on those memories made you sick. You listened in awe of how beautiful your love was not knowing Lee would only break your heart days later.

Today was Sunday, the lord's day, and usually you never wanted to go to church, but today you really didn’t want to go. The whole town, including Lee and his new arm candy, would be there. It’s the first time you’d be seeing Lee since he dropped you off. It was too soon, especially since you knew he’d already moved on.

As you sat with your head between your knees, your momma barged through your bedroom door.

“Jesus, girl. Why aren’t you up and ready to go? Church starts in an hour and you aren’t gonna make me late again.” She stomped over to your closet and shuffled through your dresses.

“Momma.. I- I’m not ready. I can’t see… him with her. I just ain’t ready for that kinda humiliation.” You sighed, trying to reason with your Bible-thumpin momma.

“Oh, no. You’ve embarrassed me enough this week. Disappearin’ for three whole days over a boy? You’re pathetic. You know, back in my day, we didn’t get to sit around and sulk the days away. No. We had to carry on like everything was fine and that’s what you’re gonna do. Now, get dressed.” She threw you a dress, one of your favorites actually. It was a teal blue, babydoll dress that you usually saved for special occasions, but you weren’t feeling very special at the moment and now you were just pissed off.

You stood and came face-to-face with your momma, “I’m not going. You have no idea how I feel. You can’t. You’ve never felt love the way we had it, Momma. No one ever loved you or me the way I love Lee. You couldn’t possib-“

Just then you felt a sharp sting against your cheek as your momma slapped you across the face.

“Not. Another. Word. You will be dressed and waitin for me at the car in ten minutes. No poutin’ and no sulkin’ in the pews. I don’t wanna hear another word about that boy.” She turned to exit your room but turned around to give you one last dig to the heart, “And, honey, a man in love would never have done what he did to you. Remember that next time you wanna preach to me about love.” With that she left your room. Your cheek still stung from the unexpected hit to the face. Your momma was cruel but she’d never hit you before.

The slap, in a way, was kind of refreshing. For a split second you’d totally forgotten about Lee. Only for a second, though. His crystal blue eyes and cheshire lips never leave your thoughts completely. You shook your head in defeat, trying to erase him from your mind. It didn’t work, but you took a deep breath and began getting ready.

//

The church parking lot was full when you and your momma pulled in. Rickety old trucks to brand spankin new, brightly colored cars littered the dusty lot. You spotted Lee’s car immediately, thankfully he was already inside.

The whole town came to this church, which wasn’t that many people. Nevertheless, everybody knew everybody and, even if you didn’t care, everybody knew everybody’s dirty laundry. Old Man Karl got pulled over last week for a DUI, Nancy from the library cheated on her husband with his brother and.. oh yeah, Lee Bodecker dumped his long time girlfriend for the mayor's daughter.

Lee and yours breakup was the talk of the town. You were the fresh, new gossip in this boring as hell town and there’s nothing you could do about it.

You couldn’t get two steps into the church without being bombarded by women you didn’t want to know but also knew too much about, asking if you were alright and that they’d pray for you on this ‘beautiful, glorious Sunday morning’. Yeah, same shit different day, different person.

One woman stayed to chat with your momma, so you went to find your seat. Your usual spot was next to Lee and naturally that’s where you headed, only to be greeted by Lee and His new girlfriend, Laura-Jean Mancon. She was one of those girls who’d been pretty her whole life. Blind hair, blue eyes and a huge rack. Everybody thought she’d go into modeling or start an acting career but she never did. Instead, she stayed and was now going to marry Lee. In your eyes, that’s the best path she could’ve taken. You’d take her place any day.

“Mornin’ Y/n.” Lee cleared his throat, unable to make eye contact with you.

“L-“ You went to say his name but found you couldn’t. It was only one syllable, only three letters and it pained you to even think about, let alone say aloud. You cleared your throat, “Laura-Jean, nice to see you again.”

Laura-Jean said nothing in return. She just hummed, waiting for you to talk away.

“I guess I’ll go.. find me a new seat.” You took a deep breath when you felt the tears welling up in your eyes, again. Lee stared straight forward the whole time you stood there, too cowardly to even look you in the eyes. Some Sheriff he’ll be.

You scanned the crowd of people and found your momma in the front row, of course. You made your way up the aisle and took your seat next to her. The chorus sang their hems and the preacher clapped his way in on the last versus.

“How are we doin’ on this fine Sunday mornin’?” he drawled to the crowd. He got an assortment of greetings in return.

“I said ‘HOW ARE WE DOIN ON THIS BRIGHT N’ SHINY SUNDIE MORNIN’?’.”

“GOOD” the people shouted in return. You could hear Laura-Jean giggling over something but you wouldn’t dare look back. Lee always made church bearable, making wise cracks at the preaches expense.

“Now, today I’d like to talk a little bit about love. Of course, we’re always talkin’ about love when it comes to our lord and savor, Jesus Christ. But just for a moment, it ain’t about him. No. This mornin’ I’m preachin’ to you about young love.”

Here we go.

“It comes and goes so fast, but when you have it, it’s one of the most beautiful things this world can offer you.. especially when you put a little Jesus in it.” The church laughed. You knew where this was going. Your stomach churned as you sunk down into the pew.

“I’d like to ask the newly engaged folks in the crowd to come and join me up here. You know who you are, soon to be Mr. and Mrs. Lee Bodecker.”

Your heart felt as if it were going to explode, a tear escaped through your lashes and you quickly wiped it away.

They walked up hand in hand, smiling for cheek to cheek. How could he be so happy, so calm after only being broken up for less than a week? Did he ever love you? Really love you. Like you loved him. Obviously not because you could never, in good conscience do this to him. You couldn’t stand on a stage wrapped arm in arm with another man while Lee sat, just as you were now, devastated and totally distraught.

“So tell us,” the preach beamed. “When’s the big day.”

Lee looked at you with a pained expression as Laura-Jean answered the preach.

“May 21st”

Your breathing heavies at the reply. Turning to your momma you whispered, “Momma, that’s in two weeks.”

“I know that. Now, hush.” She side eyed you with a full smile still pressed to her lips. Even your own mother didn’t seem to care about your feelings. You sat there, listening to Laura-Jean go on and on about their ‘big day’. Tears streamed down your face and you let them. You’d given up on trying to hide how hurt you really felt. When you looked up, Lee stared straight at you. He wasn’t crying but his pain ridden face told you everything. One look at him and you couldn’t breathe anymore. You stood abruptly, all eyes were on you and Laura-Jean had stopped talking.

“I- excuse me.” You said before booking it out the back door. Lee hollered out, asking you to wait. It was too late. You were half way out the door and couldn’t stand to be in that room for another second.

Your feet stomped against the grave, dust clouding up in your wake as you made your way to the road.

“Y/n!” Lee called out after you.

“Go away. I have nothing to say to you, L- fuck.” You cursed, trying desperately to get away from him.

“I said wait, goddammit.” He growled, capturing your bicep in his large hand.

“Let go of me!” You whined sounding out of breath.

“Not until you listened to what I have to say.”

“What, Lee? What could you possibly have to say?”

“I- I.. dammit. I know I put you in a tough position but-“

“A tough position?” You repeated.

“Let me finish.” He sighed and released your arm from his grasp, “I know I hurt you. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am, but, doll, this is it. This is my only chance at becoming Sheriff. You know how hard I’ve worked to get here and you’ve always been so supportive of my dream. I- I just thought.. out of everyone you would understand.”

Your skin burned as you imagined smoke blowing from your ears. Did he really just say that? That you should understand the break up and go on with your life like nothing happened like he is? You stood there frozen, breathing heavier and heavier as your brain tried to come up with a coherent response while trying to also remain a lady.

“I- I still love you. You know that, right?” He asked, bringing a hand to your cheek and wiping a stray tear away.

You flinched at his burning touch and slapped his hand away, “Don’t touch me. Don’t you ever touch me again. I don’t love you anymore. I can’t love you. Shit… seeing you was the best part of my day and now I can’t even look at you without feeling like my heart is being ripped out of my chest. I can’t even say your name anymore. Everything about you, now, fills me with so much pain and dread. So if that’s what your love is, keep it. I don’t want it anymore.”

“Doll,” A tear ran down his cheek, you now being the one who’s breaking his heart. “I never meant to hurt you. I swear.” He sniffles.

“Well, you did. I’m in so much pain.” You sobbed, “I’m in so much pain and I have no one to go to because you were my person. You have left me completely empty and utterly alone.”

“Y/n, I-“

“Save it, Bodecker. I’m done talking to you.”

Lee didn’t chase after you this time. He let the tears stream down his face as he watched you walk away. He was just as heartbroken as you but couldn’t show it., not when he was so close to winning this election. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and headed back towards the church. He knew you just needed time and that he’d still see you around town.

Seeing you today took his breath away. You wore your favorite dress that he bought you for your birthday so long ago. You didn’t have on any makeup, which he loved. You were so naturally beautiful and he did still love you with every piece of his shattered heart. He’d eventually come up with a plan to get you back, but for now he would respect your space.

//

Once you’d gotten home and shut the door, you couldn’t help but scream at the top of your lungs. Hoping for some sort of release from all this heartache you felt. Telling him you couldn’t love him was the hardest thing you ever had to do. You sat on the floor in the same position you were in before you left; head between your knees and sobbing like a baby.

There was no escaping him in this town. There was church and the grocery store and the diner you worked at part time. He was everywhere. He’d come in every morning you worked to have coffee with you. He had been a part of every little thing you do in your daily routine for as long as you can remember.

There was never a time you weren’t together. It was always just you and him. He was the one who held you when you were sad, but where was he now when you needed him most?

To you, there was only one way to fix this; get the hell out of here. Completely leave town and start anew somewhere else. You have an aunt that lives right outside of town. You can stay there until it doesn’t hurt anymore.

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you got up. Your aunt agreed to the plan and said you could stay with her for as long as you needed when you called her. You packed a small duffle bag and waited for her to pick you up.

When she did finally pull up out front, you hopped in the car and she drove off, leaving the dusty ole town you called home for so long. You took in a deep breath as you drove towards your new life. No Lee, no momma, no worries.

Dividers by: @firefly-in-darkness

Taglist: @haydens-moles , @c00lkidvibes , @tcc-gizmachine , @buckysm3talarm , @gogolucky13 , @cryptidcasanova , @heavenlyseb , @writersbuck , @teddy-bearbaby , @bbmommy0902 , @sweetllamaparadise , @thereblogcrusader , @aleemendoza2425-blog , @frostbytebaby , @jessyballet , @emotionallyandphysicallydone , @sarge-barnes-sir , @generalbagelcookieslime

(Dm me to be added to taglist)

#dark lee bodecker #lee bodecker fanfic #sheriff lee bodecker #lee bodecker #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker fic #lee bodecker fanfiction #lee bodecker angst #Lee bodecker fluff #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #Sebastian Stan character smut #sebastian stan fanfiction #marvel cast #tdatt #tdatt fanfiction #tdatt smut #tdatt fluff #tdatt angst #the devil all the time

[andypantsx3]

subtle | 2 | Shouto Todoroki/Reader

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

status: complete

length: 2,265 words

summary: Someone leaves chocolates on your desk. You’re determined to track down the sender, certain it’s a mistake, and Shouto Todoroki makes himself as unhelpful as possible.

tags: romance, reader-insert, fluff, valentine’s day

warnings: aged up characters (no smut though!!)

notes: Hi all! Happy Valentine's Day! I'm posting a follow up chapter because so many people asked for it in my inbox. It's completely unedited because I just decided to write it today, and I wanted to get it up before the holiday was over! I promise I will come back and edit at some point in the next few weeks.

No one had come for the box.

You’d made a point to be out of your office as much as possible throughout the day, leaving plenty of opportunity for whoever the sender was to sneak back in and correct their mistake. But every time you reentered the room, there the box was, crowning a pile of your paperwork like a coronet of ineptitude.

You’d checked in with Shouto several times as well, anxious to learn whether or not he’d overheard anything as he changed out of his uniform from patrol, but he proved just as unhelpful as he’d been earlier this morning. He simply leaned towards you, looking almost conspiratorial--spiking both your heart rate and your hopes--only for him to murmur in his low voice, “No one is coming for it.”

Which was so fucking unhelpful.

So you’d set about the office yourself, lingering hopefully on the fringes of people’s conversations, peering about for clues on the agency staffer’s desks, but there was nothing to give the sender away, no whispered snippet of conversation or receipt laying amongst some expense sheets. You might have resorted to sifting through people’s garbage cans, if only Shouto hadn’t taken to suddenly appearing wherever you were investigating, watching you with a wry little smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

You knew he hadn’t the slightest modicum of romantic interest in you, but that didn’t mean you wanted him to witness you digging through people’s garbage either. That would have to wait until you could get him out of the building.

Which was also proving to be an impossible endeavor. He usually had a habit of lingering after his shift, coming into your office to make queries about one thing or another that almost always devolved into conversations deeply unrelated to work. But today he was especially resistant to leaving, seeming content to lounge around in the chairs you’d set out for clients, draping one distractingly muscled arm across the backs and watching you intently with those heterochromatic eyes.

“Shouto, get out of my office,” you hissed, coming back in at the end of the day to find him still in one of the chairs, his phone clutched in those long fingers.

He glanced up at you, eyes fastening to your features in that attentive way he had. “I work here.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” you asked, trying to suppress a small spike of irritation with him. “Because it looks like you’re scaring off the box sender to me. How are they supposed to sneak in here and take it back if their boss is looming in here like their worst nightmare?”

Shouto looked unconcerned. “I’m not.”

“Not what?” you asked. Maybe he wasn’t their worst nightmare, but being caught by your boss in the middle of correcting a romantic mishap was probably at least a nightmare.

“Not scaring anyone off,” he said, putting his phone away into his pocket. “I know who the box belongs to.”

You stopped short, your attention snapping fully towards him. A thrill of excitement went down your spine, even as regret poured through you. A little part of you had maybe hoped you would end up getting to eat the chocolates, even if they weren’t yours. But this was good news.

“You do? Why didn’t you tell me?” you demanded.

Yor feet guided you to the chair where he sat, and you stood, looking down at him expectantly. He watched you through his long lashes, eyes glinting strangely.

“It’s mine,” he said finally, after a moment that stretched long and slow, like warm taffy.

Your breath caught in your chest, a swell of confusion rising within you. The box was his?

Was he being truthful or was this another attempt to make you take it? Why would he have tried to make you think it was from a secret admirer, then? Why have let you run around all day, attempting to find the sender, if the chocolates had been his all along? Unless...

Unless he was embarrassed. You didn’t know why he might have left them in your office, but you suspected maybe force of habit had drawn him here. Maybe he was operating on autopilot after his distracting shift this morning, since he usually spent so much time in your office, and then you’d come in to find them before he’d had a chance to realize it. And the rest had been history.

But then that begged the question of who he’d really meant them for--your heart sank as the thought occurred to you.

Obviously, you had known since you’d first met him that he wasn’t interested in you. You’d spent years with your thoughts all muddled around him, quelling every blush, never straying into his personal space or staring at him longer than was appropriate. You’d been so, so careful around him, but you’d never had any indication that Shouto was as careful around you. On the contrary, he was always calm and intent--he never looked away from you in a fit of bashfulness the way you had him, and he seemed to have no qualms about getting into your personal space, leaning over you as you looked through reports together, putting a hand on your back to guide you through publicity events.

So yeah, you had known he was basically immune to you. You had known it for a long time. But it still smarted to think of him giving that box to someone else.

God, how embarrassing for you. How mortifying, really, that Shouto had been thinking of someone else all those days that you had been nursing your crush on him.

But you were a professional, you could deal with this.

All you had to do was play it cool, give him back the box and laugh it off like it hardly affected you. And then you could head back to your apartment and binge ice cream and be all wistful and embarrassing for one evening. You could allow yourself that before you had to come back and be doubly professional, smile and congratulate whichever analyst or support staffer or fellow hero had caught his interest.

You could be happy for him. You’d miss the chocolates though.

Drawing yourself together, you looked down at him, pulling out a small but genuine smile. Shouto was your friend, and he was going to nail it with whoever the box was meant for--you could give him your support. But then Shouto was unfolding himself out of the chair, standing up so he could look down into your face, taking a step closer to you.

You tried to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his sudden proximity, the hint of his clean cologne and the lick of warmth coming off of his left side.

“They’re, uh, they’re yours?” you managed, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “You are in such big trouble for coming in here and peddling conspiracy theories instead of owning up to it. You at least owe me a coffee for being such a brat.”

Shouto watched you quietly, saying nothing.

“But we can hash that out later,” you said, waving what you hoped was a casual hand at him. “You need to move quickly. You should try to catch whoever you meant these for before they leave--daytime shift is over in a couple minutes.”

Shouto’s brows knitted, a small frown pulling at his mouth. “You still think they’re not for you,” he said.

It took a minute for you to register the words he’d spoken. The comment struck you dumb when you did, a thrill of disbelief going through you. Was he trying to be tactful now? Now, of all times?

“Shouto, seriously, you can make it up to me later. This is not the time to fuck around, the day’s almost over,” you said.

His eyes narrowed and he stepped closer to you, close enough that you could feel him exhale. You took a step back in surprise, your hip bumping your desk.

“You promised me,” he said in his deep voice, “that if no one came looking for them by the end of the day, you would take them.”

You stared up at him, your mind churning wildly with all kinds of insane thoughts, wild insinuations that brought heat to your face. He absolutely could not mean what you thought he meant.

There was literally no way.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say,” you admitted. “But if you’re telling me I can take them just because you promised them, I don’t want them. I think you should give them to who you meant them for.”

That wry little smile played about his mouth again, and Shouto took another step closer. The back of your thighs dug into your desk and you wobbled, putting a hand down to keep your balance.

“To think I trust you with my career,” Shouto intoned, ducking his head to look into your face. You felt the heat of his left arm at your side as he placed it gently on your desk, caging you in. “Let me be plain, then. I did give them to who they were meant for.”

Your cheeks went hot, both with his proximity and the implied insult. But the rejoinder died on your tongue as the implication of his last few words sank in.

He had meant them for you? Shouto Todoroki, number four hero, your coworker of several years and your most patient, attentive, and mind-numbingly handsome friend, had gone to Grégoire Chardin, for Valentine’s Day chocolate, thinking--of all people--of you?

For a moment, it felt like the earth was sliding out from under your feet, but then you realized it was just you, tipping backwards on your desk. Your elbow banged into the side of the chocolate box, and you accidentally sent a small pile of papers fluttering over the side of your desk. You cringed, embarrassed, but then Shouto was over you, both arms braced on either side of your head.

“You don’t need to accept them if you don’t want,” he said quietly, watching your face. The intensity of his focus made your head swim, and you tried to focus on what he was saying, rather than the shape of his mouth as he spoke, the heat from his skin. “But I wanted you to know. I like you.”

You gaped at him, the words feeling like they were embedding themselves in your brain.

“You...like me?” you echoed in disbelief.

Shouto grinned, the expression so disarmingly charming that even your nose went hot. “Yes. Very much.”

A swell of emotions welled up inside you, like the unstoppable tide of a coastal flood, and you were gripped with the sudden desire to lean up and kiss him, to press your mouth to his and see if he meant it, if any of what he’d just said to you could possibly be real. Suddenly, that was the only thought in your entire brain.

“I’m gonna kiss you,” you heard yourself utter stupidly.

You hesitated for just a second, realizing that maybe you should pinch yourself first to see if this was actually happening, but then Shouto was already there, covering your mouth with his.

His kiss was hot and soft and utterly perfect, and very quickly there were no thoughts in your brain at all, nothing but the feel of him over you, one muscled thigh pressing insistently between yours, his long fingers tangling gently in the hair behind your ear. You clutched him to you tightly, an embarrassing little sound escaping you, and Shouto groaned, pressing more of his weight down on you, licking firmly into your mouth.

You were half-delirious with the feeling of him by the time he let you up for air, and you could feel yourself grinning like an absolute fool.

“I had a secret admirer,” you said. “You were being serious.”

Shouto smirked, leaning in to press a hot kiss to your throat. Your thighs clenched involuntarily. “Yes, I had been secretly admiring you for a while.”

For some reason, the words embarrassed you, and you tucked your face into his broad shoulder. “I...this is so embarrassing. I’ve been...admiring you, too.”

You heard Shouto huff a soft laugh, and then his calloused fingers were gripping your chin, angling your face back towards him so he could seize your mouth again. You went slack and pliant underneath him, enjoying the press of his mouth on yours, your toes curling when he did something particularly talented with his tongue.

“I did tell you,” Shouto said after a while, pulling back, one of his hands gripping your thigh.

“Tell me what?” you asked absently, wondering how you could get his mouth on yours again.

His eyes caught yours, the blue of his left glittering at you conspiratorially. “That I could be subtle.”

You laughed, feeling stupid--but more than that, flushed and completely pleased. You didn’t know if subtle was exactly the right word, but you weren’t going to argue specifics at the moment. “I guess you can be. Though you might have been a little bit more overt before now.”

“Then if you don’t mind,” Shouto said after a while, something like amusement in his voice, “I’d like to take you home and admire you quite overtly now.”

You were answering before he could even finish. “Yes, oh my god, yes.”

Shouto laughed again, smoothing a large palm down your side.

And then he did. And not even chocolates from Grégoire Chardin could compare.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto #bnha #bnha fanfic #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #shouto todoroki x reader

[missvifdor]

(The continuation of this post where during a spell class a portal opened and the boys' female doubles as well as MC's appeared in the class) (I think I could make it an independent "story" for the adventures of my MC /OC /YUU)

My MC /OC /YUU and his double crossing the gaze in the class: * Double bi panic *

*Now we will have to find a solution to bring these young ladies and this gentleman back to their reality, but in the meantime here is the look of our twisted guys if they were girls*

Dorm leaders:

Riddle: Looks both serious and cute, with a round cheeky face and big eyes with long thick lashes as well as a pretty pixie haircut. Obviously she stays small but is always bigger than my MC OC YUU, her voice both soft and sharp, a very interesting contrast.

Leona: Made more of a woman than a young girl, still has magnificent hair, bewitching eyes and has a very toned and nicely muscular body. His voice is deep with that tone both seductive and bored. She knows perfectly well that she is beautiful, that she has charm and adores the handset with her immense intelligence. It's an absolutely formidable combo. She is the same height as her male double.

Azul: Gives that mafia-like aura (Or Sugar Mummy), with her hair styled in an impeccable bun and her tailor that is both professional and flatters her gorgeous figure perfectly. Her smile is both sweet and dangerous. But we all know that deep down she is a sweet girl who needs reassurance and who needs to realize how smart, hardworking, and beautiful she is (and we know any of us don't would stop proving it to her). She must be two or three centimeters shorter than her male double.

Kalim: She's still a sun ball and a full cinnamon roll! So positive and supportive! Tie up her long silver hair with a cute headband and always do her makeup in warm tones (where instead Jamil helps her with her makeup like that). Always wears tons of gold bracelets on her wrists and ankles, is very tactile, and has no problem cuddling the people she loves and appreciates! Is the kind of friend who makes sure you eat well and that you don't miss anything. (I can see her thinking that she and Jamil have more of a sister relationship than a master and servant relationship). Is exactly the same size as her male double.

Vil: Let's be honest here, Vil would be the most gorgeous woman who hasn't set foot at Night Raven College for decades after The Beautiful Queen! You almost feel like she's straight out of a fashion magazine but no, it's just that our Reine des Poisons takes so much care of her and works so hard to come to such potential! Her magnificent hair would reach her shoulders, her voice would be as beautiful as honey on a slice of bread and her makeup and manicure would be as perfect as it gets! Maybe she would be a little taller than her male double (even without heels). (I don't know why but apart from her care and makeup, I also see her very well making her own jewelry as well as her perfume).

Idia: Haired with two long, fiery quilts, she would be more the type to have an e-girl style but with very loose clothes that would not show her forms (the poor one does not realize that she has the potential to become a model for lingerie). Her voice would be both sweet and high-pitched, and she could also be smaller than her male double. (And Husbando, so many Husbando!). Doesn't trust her smile because of her sharp teeth but that is her charm and she is so fucking cute! Maybe she would be more organized and manic than her double even if her room would still be in a very big mess (at least she didn't leave her underwear lying around in plain sight, she would die of shame if anyone saw the cute and childish little designs on it).

Malleus: This woman ... Would be exactly the same size as her male double! And she would be so beautiful and elegant! With long black hair that she would let hang down her back, as well as her incredible figure! (Also gives those Magical Sugar Mummy vibes). His voice, by all the gods ... The most sensual and that playful note we've ever heard. Her voice is also so deep and sweet (let's not even talk about her laugh or I'll die of happiness). Still gives that awesome and intimidating impression on people but is so sweet when you get to know her (Always make that adorable pout when she's sad or upset, you feel like hugging her tight and telling her that even though she is scary in the early days, she's the sweetest person we've ever met!).

The Vice-leader:

Trey: Don't lie to each other, give these married vibes over and over again. But beware, also hides his game very well because in private ... 🥵. Her beautiful hair tied in a ponytail and her voice in playful tones. Would be the type to wear stockings with his uniform and is the same size as his male double. Smells like cake and vanilla, it's both so nice and it also makes you so hungry!

Ruggie: Is quite skinny because as we know Ruggie often endures difficult months. Short and messy hair, has a cheerful voice and an infectious laugh (Quite fond of pretty things in the background, but since she doesn't have much money, she can't really afford it. If she could, she would certainly treat herself to some pretty hair accessories). Perhaps an unacknowledged Tsundere side. Since she cannot feed herself properly for someone her age, she is most certainly smaller than the average for a Beast Woman. Would probably like to have a cuter look, unfortunately she can't afford it as she doesn't want to look "weak".

Jade: Holy shit, this woman is so dangerous and sweetly sadistic, if you ever pique her interest and she likes you on top of that, I'm sorry for you. Her body is certainly muscular and graceful (She also has quite incredible strength). Has long, wavy hair that she wears half-loose and is exactly the same height as her male double. Her voice and at the same time so soft and cold, you don't know if you should feel comfortable or on the contrary, run as far as possible. Obviously loves going for long hikes, (Her legs are so muscular, if she catches you with that, you won't be able to go anywhere). His tone is so teasing, you can't resist him for long.

Jamil: Very tall, even a few inches taller than her male double. Just like Trey, she smells so good, like cinnamon. Has a fairly athletic build, and remained a very, very good dancer. Very skillful, maybe makes her own wrist and ankle bracelets, also wears a lot of jewelry (not as expensive as Kalim's, but still very pretty and it shows her really well, especially the snake designs ), also wears a lot of ear piercings. His hair is very long, silky, and worn the same way as the male Jamil (maybe with extra pearls in his hair). Her voice is deep (sensual) and with a note of irony and sarcasm. Her make up apply lightly but always in such beautiful warm tones (she also highlights her cheekbones), especially with eyeliner to highlight her intense gaze.

Rook: His hair is worn in the same way as the male Rook, also wears a multitude of hats as well as pretty earrings. Likes to tease those around her, smiling and bright. Has a French accent, of course. But remains someone dangerous in the end. Is the same height as her double, is athletic, skillful and has excellent eyesight (Normal for a hunter). See beauty in everything and everyone! Don't you think you're handsome? Rook will give you ten points for why she thinks you are beautiful and why you should stop thinking that way because otherwise she will stalk you until you accept this truth. Her voice is happy and confident, deep and warm. May like to wear accessories like long socks with natural or animal designs. Specialized in throwing knives.

Ortho: So cute! The little sister you will want to protect at the risk of your life! So smart and friendly, curious too. Wears a cute fiery pixie hairstyle and has a cheerful, thin voice. Is so small and skinny.

Lilia: Oh boy ... see Draculaura from Monster Hight? She has the same look. So much into jokes, loves to surprise people to scare them. Her voice contrasts completely with her appearance since it is deep and velvety. Same size as her male double. Even though she looks so young, she still acts like a child mom. (Obviously, is always so bad in the kitchen, she brings out stuff, sometimes you are afraid that it will come to life to devour you). Despite her jokes, she is still very good advice and listens.

The rest of our boys:

Cater: If fashionable, is certainly a great influencer. Cater pays so much attention to everything, especially the little details and accessories that she wear. Makeup always on top and colorful, could become a model if she wanted. Is smaller than her male double. Joyful and higher pitched voice, her hair is a bundle of silky curls always worn in a cute way (Like Ariana Grande). (Has a multitude of fans and contenders) carefree and likes to give cute or silly nicknames to people she loves and appreciates. Would be the type to flirt with his friends for fun. Probably has a passion for nail art and would be so proud to show off her designs on her Magicam account! Would act with the first years like a big sister although she is not always good advice. She is so teasing.

Ace: Short, messy hair! Pretty tomboy style, enjoys teasing others too much for his own good, always smiling like shit and communicative. Is a sporty person, and quite arrogant, maybe also a little Tsundere side. Is a hopeless hideaway romantic. Even though she likes to do her makeup, she doesn't like taking fifteen years to do it and does the minimum required. Of course has a more feminine side when she's out of school, but honestly, feminine clothes are never practical for big movements. Act confidently but not too deep down. Her voice is happy and dynamic. Is one or two centimeters smaller than her male double. Likes to wear necklaces and chokers. Rather skinny but not as much as Ruggie.

Deuce: So sweet and so want to do her best to make her mom proud of her. Wearing long hair tied in a low ponytail, her voice is high-pitched and strong. Is quite tall (even taller than her male double). Read romance books on the sly but can't help herself when someone finds out. Probably already dyed his hair blonde during his delinquent period and dyed it before entering Night Raven College. Likes to wear barrettes in her hair, also does her best with her makeup but was not used to it before (it was mainly Ace who taught her everything she knows). Secretly loves wearing skirts and dresses, she hasn't been able to experience it before because she didn't think it would look pretty on her (But she's actually pretty). Certainly be shy and insecure when she finds new people, afraid of doing things badly. Blushes so easily that it is funny. When his delinquent side resurfaces, his voice becomes more serious, threatening, his posture leaves no room for shyness! She might want to change for the better, but that doesn't mean she's going to let others do if they want to bully her!

Jack: Do you see Jasper in the Steven Universe? You now have Jack as a woman. She is muscular and strong! The part she's most proud of is her muscular back! His silvery hair his savage and remained indomitable (But that gives him a crazy charm). Don't take shit from people and still is a Tsundere. But her wagging tail always betrayed her about her emotions, as well as her ears. Same size as her male double. Secretly loves cute things and certainly has an army of adorable stuffed animals in her room in Savanaclaw. Wears a biker style, and because she lives in a cold region with her family, she doesn't get cold easily, so her muscular arms are uncovered all the time (for your viewing pleasure 😏). Her voice is serious, so serious! But if you're friends, you definitely hear that thoughtful little note in her voice. If his male version is the Best Boy, his female version is the Best Girl! She takes care of those she loves and is always ready to help!

Floyd: Is exactly the same size as his male double. Wear her hair short cut in a boyish style (she doesn't have the time or the energy to dwell on her hair). Her voice has high notes, especially when she finds something or someone cute! Very expressive, has no filter. Like her sister, she is muscular and graceful. Her dress style could be similar to those of men in the 40's (she much prefers masculine clothes because it is more comfortable and she doesn't have to worry about her chest with large shirts. does not have to wear a bra!). Love accessories like earrings or piercings. Has immense strength and doesn't always control it. Dislikes makeup, she doesn't want to bother with it (but finds it charming on others, that's just her personal opinion). If its male version is not to be upset, it also works with its female version! Especially when it is at this time of the month, run away poor fools!

Epel: The same problem as with its male version! Except that instead of being manly, she wants us to find her sexy and not cute! All her life in her hometown has not to stop telling her that she was cute! Really ? Was she nothing else ?! She wants people she finds attractive to find her sexy, not cute! Just because she is petite, because she has big, innocent eyes and a round, youthful face, doesn't mean it's her definition of beauty or femininity! Much like her appearance, her voice is cute, slender. Her hair is long, wavy and held up with a red ribbon in an elegant manner. Compare to her male version, Vil lets her speak with her accent because it is one of her charm assets. Her face is decorated with delicate freckles. Is quite skinny with a tiny bit of shape but not a lot (let's say she has a lot more than Riddle). Epel is a little smaller than the male Epel, but not much.

Silver: She is the equivalent of Disney Princess Aurora. Except that, unlike, even if she falls asleep anywhere, she doesn't need a knight to protect her, she is her own knight! Remain a formidable swordsman! In spite of everything, remains someone calm and taciturn, very easygoing. She is very fond of animals and as they naturally flock to her, she is very happy about this fact. Wear her hair up to the shoulders and tie it in a ponytail for practice. She has a fairly toned body, but not too much. Her voice is soft and measured. She is much smaller than her male double.

Sebek: Acts hard but is so soft in the end. Looks pissed off all the time but that's just her natural expression. Wears her hair like her male version, and is the same size. Her voice carries so far, it's very impressive the first time you hear her! It is a bit sharp, but not in an unpleasant way. Carries so much esteem and respect towards Malleus, she would also like so much to be like her but she would never dare to compare herself to her! Blushes so hard and so quickly if you press the right buttons, it's so funny to see her get annoyed! Her figure is quite toned and sporty.

And finally, My MC /OC /YUU: Just like his female version, he wears round glasses, is always 150cm tall and has long wavy hair. Has fairly broad shoulders and is slightly muscular without really being so. Does everything possible to make girls feel comfortable and safe in his presence! He knows how exhausting the life and daily life of women is because of societal pressures and the male gaze. He knows that because of assholes, women are afraid of men and are afraid to even be in the same room as them, so he will do his best to ensure that she never feels that way around him! And if someone has the audacity to make one of them feel these feelings, oh boy ... that person won't last long! He was raised by his mother alone, and she taught him respect, consent and righteous values. He is an ally, so rest assured 😊😉. His voice is soft and serious (Also watching him get angry and argued in French is quite impressive! The sound of Rs in his mouth sounds even more aggressive).

#Twisted boys girl!au #Girls!au #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland imagine #twisted wonderland imagines #Disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst headcanons #Twst #twst x reader #Twisted boys #Savanaclaw #Heatslabyul #octavinelle #Scarabia #pomefiore #Ignihyde #Diasomnia

[vizowrites]

OOOH I GOT A GOOD BLITZSTRIKE IDEA FROM EPISODE 6!! So you know that blitz had a I'm assuming was a illusion with poorly drawn moxxie and striker, etc yea that but striker just came to save the day! Da da daaaaaa (I am morning drunk-)

I made a post about just how badly I needed this exact thing in my life so THANK YOU SO MUCH for sending it to meeeeeeeeeee!! <3 <3

Now normally I'm all for the AU idea of Striker joining I.M.P. and just kind of automatically jumping in as an official member of their unofficial family, but I have to say for this.....I actually kind of like it better if I stick more to the canon here. Striker's not a member of I.M.P., he's still got his angel weaponry and the bounty on Stolas's head to settle after the mishap at the Harvest Moon Festival, and--most importantly--hasn't crossed paths with Blitz [or any of the others for that matter] since.

He hadn't been expecting it to happen when it did that night, either.

There wasn't much on Striker's mind other than his target as he slithered his way through the servant's quarters entrance of Stolas's manor house, entirely uncaring of the numerous cameras and other security features that he passed along the way. He had it on good faith that they would just happen to be disabled that night--a pissed off royal birdie had told him so. He'd also been told exactly how to navigate his way through the house undetected, exactly which rooms to avoid, and exactly where he would find the "cheating prick" at this hour. What he hadn't been told--and what he'd deliberately chosen not to ask--was just what the Goetian Prince would be doing by the time he made his soundless entry into his study. There was a small part of him, somewhere deeper than he usually cared to try to reach, that couldn't help but think of a certain impressive imp Boss that might be involved. There was an even deeper part of him, though, that felt the sharp sting of conflict as he found he couldn't make up his mind on whether he was hoping to see said impressive imp Boss there or not, considering what he would probably be doing.

His tail unconsciously flicked once, causing Striker to coil it tightly around himself in order to prevent what would have become a full blown rattle otherwise. This was ridiculous. He was here for one thing and one thing only: he had a job to do.

A job he was fully intending to enjoy.

A slow grin spread across his face as he shrugged the strap of his angelic rifle down from his shoulder, catching the weapon effortlessly and feeling the warm sting of its power against his fingertips. He really was going to enjoy this, he thought to himself as he silently crept into the study, taking advantage of the many outrageously sized pieces of furniture casting shadows around the room to stay hidden.

Just one shot. He just needed one shot.

The flickering glow of what he presumed to be firelight seemed to beckon him, encouraging him, and before he knew it he had the butt of the rifle pressed firmly into his shoulder and his right hand hovering just beside the trigger--ready and waiting to take aim and fire. All he needed was one glance now, just enough to see where exactly Stolas was in the room, and then it would be over. The fact that he couldn't hear the owl demon moaning in ecstasy strangely pleased him at his core, confirming that he in fact wasn't enjoying the company of his favorite plaything tonight. Good. It meant he didn't need to spare a second thought for who else might get caught in the crossfire. Anyone else honestly wouldn't matter.

.....He tried to distract himself from thinking about that thought too deeply by finally taking his glance, trying to focus back on the one who didn't matter to him at all.

Instead, he found himself looking straight at the one being that did.

"Blitz--" The half-whisper caught in the back of his throat, thankfully stiffling the majority of the sound as Striker's eyes went wide. He didn't know how the hell Stolas was doing this--he didn't know this was something the Ars Goetia could do--but somehow, in the middle of what he'd previously thought was just a fireplace casting the twisting forms of light and darkness across the room, was a strange mirror-like orb that seemed to be reflecting an image to the Prince sitting across from it in one of his high-backed chairs.

An image of Blitz, tied to a much smaller chair, struggling as some strange green something started to pool beneath his feet.

What the flying fuck was happening?

"Oh darling, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" Stolas cooed from across the room, completely oblivious to the hitman staring at him as he watched the scene unfold before him as if it was his favorite daytime drama. "Let's be extra careful about what we say from here on out, shall we? You're not going to be very happy with me if I have to come down there and take my book back from your charming daughter. Especially since that's going to delay her rescuing of you by quite a bit."

Striker didn't know what to do. There was a part of him that felt the unmistakable urge to just raise his weapon and fire, to carry on with the plan just as he'd intended and figure out the rest from there. But there was that other, deeper, part of him that had frozen, leaving him unable to look at or think about anything other than the imp that was now spilling his guts out in whatever room he was in as easily as if he'd just been sliced open.

And the vermin was there with him--apparently tripping balls as he slumped into his own chair and started mumbling incoherently.

Perfect.

"Now just what is happening here?" Stolas murmured, his voice catching Striker's attention--that urge flaring up in him again, and yet, before he could think about whether or not to actually take aim at him, he instead watched as Stolas lifted his hand from beneath his chin and gave a little wave over the orb. The image within shifted, rippling as if it were made of water, and when it finally settled again it was of something new:

Moxxie, now freed from his bonds, making his way up a marble staircase lined with candelabras towards a cape-wearing Blitz playing piano.....and they were both singing.

What. The. Fuck. Is. Happening??

"Ooohh my," Stolas chuckled delicately from behind his curved fingers, amusement sparking in his glowing crimson eyes as he watched the scene unfold. "Your little underling here has quite the imagination now, doesn't he? Well if his truth is this entertaining--" He lifted his hand once more, his fingertips hovering over the unnaturally glowing scene. "--I really must see yours now, Blitzy."

Don't--

Striker didn't know why he felt such a sudden surge of protectiveness for Blitz's privacy of all things in that moment, but seeing the image ripple again as it began to change had him biting his lip hard enough that he could feel it start to bleed. Just what the fuck was this asshole doing? Did he just get himself off to spying on Blitz like this?? At times when he's clearly in trouble and needing help that isn't prying into his drug-induced hallucinations??

If he'd been a better person, he would have killed Stolas then and there just to make this stop. But since he wasn't, his curiosity stilled his hands for another few moments as the window into Blitz's vison settled into view.

He didn't like any part of what he saw.

The memory of himself referring to Blitz as a "rodeo clown of a boss" came back to him with the viciousness of a bite, causing him to tense as he watched as Blitz--stumbling around in a clown costume--started getting tormented by voices and swirling figureless masses of color. The first to solidify was Moxxie, spewing bullshit that honestly Striker could barely care to keep up with, except for the fact that it was so obviously berrating Blitz for.....something. Just what the hell did Blitz care what that little baby dick had to say? He knew he was better than that.

.....Didn't he?

Striker felt his grip on the rifle loosening as he sank back fully onto the floor, his pale eyes glinting and his tail starting to vibrate hard against his shirt. He tried to muster up every ounce of his self control, willing it to stop before the rattling sound tipped off Stolas--only for his tail to go utterly still as something very similar lashed its way around Blitz's throat and threw him to the ground.

And there he was, staring at himself.

"But you don't want to do things alone Blitzo!"

Hearing himself--not himself, that wasn't even his fucking voice--say that made his blood run cold with rage. How fucking dare whoever was doing this impersonate him like this! Using him to torment Blitz like this! And Blitz was seemingly actually buying it--wait, Stolas had called this Blitz’s “truth”.  Did this mean.....was this what Blitz thought of him?? What the fuck!? Since when the hell did Blitz ever hear Striker call him "Blitzo" once before in his life?? Never! He wanted to grab Blitz by the shoulders and shake him, screaming right into his face that he would never say his name like that when he knows damn well that the O is silent! Okay, so he might’ve called him “Blitzy” when they parted ways because he was bitter over Blitz choosing to stop him from killing Stolas instead of running off with him to take down Overlords--and that was his bad.  And yeah, he might've been trying to get on his good side to have an easier shot at killing Stolas, sure, but...that didn't mean that the things he'd said to Blitz weren't true! He really did want to be partners!

The scene changed again, another set of stairs, and Blitz frantically climbing up them to try and escape the figures that were literally haunting him--Striker feeling that cold burn spread in his chest at the sight of being one of them.

Though nothing could have prepared him for the tidal wave of feeling that would crash over him in the moment he saw just who was waiting for Blitz at the top of those stairs.

Stolas.

You Daddy Fucker.

"Are you afraid to love people, Blitzy?"

Striker's fingers clenched so hard around his rifle that he thought he was going to snap it in two, his pale gold-green eyes fixed on the sight of Blitz crawling on his hands and knees up that glowing staircase, as golden chains fastened around each of his wrists and around his neck. The rest of the voices were lost to the roar of whitenoise now ringing in Striker's ears as he watched Stolas pull Blitz willingly onto his lap, holding him by that chain attached to the collar at his throat.....

"Oh Blitzy--!"

And when he heard that erotic gasp and saw that look on Blitz's face, he finally couldn't take it.

The next thing he knew, he was back in the hallway, making a beeline for the room that he'd been instructed to go to only after he'd finished the job. Oh he was going to finish it all right. He was going to finish it slowly and painfully. But there was something even more important that he had to finish first.

He honestly didn't remember what he'd said when he stormed into Stella's room. He didn't know how long he had been there and he had no idea how he got away with being there for any amount of time without her calling for security to run in and tackle him to the ground. Most of all, he had absolutely no idea what the hell kind of reason he could have possibly given for her to locate the party of imps on Earth and open him a portal to get to them--but whatever reason he gave must've been a pretty damn good one. The next thing he knew there was a glowing blue door literally opening in front of his face, revealing a blood soaked room and the now united beings of Hell trapped between a steel door and two human fuckers who were pointing pistols at their faces.

At Blitz's face.

The shots rang out one after the other, followed by the distinct meaty thuds of two bodies hitting the floor. Striker didn't particlarly notice the fact that the portal had closed behind him the minute he stepped into the room, rendering him just as trapped as the others, but he also didn't particularly care. That bird bitch was still going to get exactly what she wanted when he got back--he would make sure of it. But for now, at least, it was enough just to be able to stride over to that face--full of disbelief and shock--and cup it tenderly in his palm.

"You ain't gotta do jack shit alone, Blitz," he said, and the sincerity of his own voice shook him from the top of his head down to the soles of his feet. "You're not alone, Blitz."

He didn't know it until much much later, but hearing Striker say those words to him had made Blitz feel as though he'd just been handed the keys to his chains.

#vizowritesanswers #BlitzStrike #Striker x Blitzo #Blitzo x Striker #Helluva Boss episode 6 spoilers #so I just decided to write up a full oneshot here #hope you don't mind!! #Helluva Boss AU #Blitzo #Striker #hazbinvioletsposts

[littlemessyjessi]

“Not My Bias”: Park Jimin Imagine: Plus Size Reader

Park Jimin Imagine Summary: Jimin is upset because he is not the chosen bias of his girlfriend but instead it's actually Namjoon.   A/N: Also, this is just an imagine, a oneshot if you will.  However, if you want to see more of the story, just let me know.   Extra: Plus Size.  Also, woman is older than the man by a few years. Pre-established relationship, Jimin is dating an Army, ft Platonic moments with Yoongi.   Warning: Fluff, Angst, mentions of suicide and issues with mental health, arguing, jealously... teeeeennnnnnsssssiiiooonn.   Anyway, yeah. ----

Flared nostrils and a deep breath.

'He's just having a day.  Let it go.  He's just in a mood.'

The thought swirled around in that head like smoke.

"Babe, you were all over him.  I don't know how you can think that's ok? If I had done that to someone you would've flipped out!" Jimin's voice sounded.

Regardless of the fact that Jimin was continuously all over people because he was very affectionate and naturally flirty.  

Also, regardless of the fact that he literally had millions of people ready to volunteer like Katniss for the Hunger Games at the drop of a hat.

Regardless of the fact that it was very much clear as to how much he was loved and adored by his partner.

Still.

'Don't snap.  Don't lash out.  Just let it go.'

The thought swirled less like smoke and more like the unstable circle of terror that was the beginnings of a hurricane.

"I mean, fuck, you might as well just be with him.  You were practically eye fucking him right in front of me."

Stone cold.

Every thought brewing in that mind was screaming to let it go, to talk to him calmly, to just fix it.

But that's not what happened.

Because even though Jimin was clearly feeling insecure and it had turned into jealously... you had feelings too.

You slowly turned to look at him.

Jimin's gaze was hard as he looked back.

He had that about him where one second he could be cute and adorable and the next he could be very intimidating.

However, his duality was no match for yours in that moment.

"Jimin, you've got about three seconds to apologize." you said evenly.

"Apologize?" He scoffed.  "For what? Apologize for calling the bullshit when I see my girlfriend trying to fuck one of my best friends right in front of me?"

That was it.

You had a long fuse on a big bomb and right now... you weren't just a stick of dynamite.

You were a nuclear bomb.

You ran your tongue over your teeth trying in vain to calm down.

"First of all, fuck you." you snapped and his brows lifted on his forehead.  "Yeah I said it.  Don't you ever insinuate that I am anything less to faithful to you.  God dammit, Jimin.  I didn't want to have a fucking fight with you but since you seem so hell bent on it, let's go.  It's time for war, mother fucker."

His gaze intensified at your response, "Don't you talk to me like -"

"Me?!" you snapped. "You want to talk about me? You're the one who stood right there, basically called me a whore and accused me of fucking your friend! Who by the way, you owe a god damn apology to! He didn't do anything to you and you've been a dick the whole day!"

It was the wrong thing to say and you knew it.

Bringing up Namjoon during a fight, especially considering the context was the worse thing you could've done.

It further ignited his anger and his jealously all but consumed him.

But you didn't care.

He may have started the fire but you brought the gasoline.

"That's just great, Y/N.  Wonderful.   Exactly the way to convince your boyfriend that you're not fucking someone else.  Defending them in the middle of an argument."

Your screaming had clearly drawn attention and the door opened to reveal Jin's concerned face.

He said something but the two of you were too far gone in trying to outscream each other to hear him.

"That you started!" you snapped at Jimin.

"I was trying to talk to you!"

"You were accusing me!"

"Because it was obvious!"

You were shaking when Yoongi's head popped in beside Jin's but you paid them no mind even when Hobi appeared in the doorway.

"Guys, come on." Hobi said trying to calm you both down.  "Don't do this."

"Come on. Let's go get some food and chill out." Jin offered, knowing very well how Jimin's temper could be and also how he could say some horrible things when he really didn't mean them.

He had a sinking feeling that they'd already been said though and there wasn't much that could be done.

"What was so obvious to you, Jimin? Hm? I am a fan.  You know this? I was an Army before I ever met you.  This was abundantly clear to you from the beginning.  Did you really think that there would never be moments when I wouldn't be starstruck occasionally?" you seethed. "Because I'm sorry I'm not perfect Park fucking Jimin! I'm human!"

His jaw tightened and he narrowed his eyes at you.

"That's not what this is about." he said.

"Yeah, the fuck, it is." you snapped.  "Listen, I'm about to make myself abundantly clear about something.  You don't fucking know me as well as you seem to think you do."

"Clearly." he responded and you had to fight the urge not to strangle him.

Yoongi almost rolled his eyes at Jimin and his fucking mouth.

The rest of the members had joined the chaos at this point and you... you just no longer cared.

You were ready to go to war.

Fuck it all.

You drew a deep breath in through your nose, staring at the carpet before lifting your eyes up to Jimin's again.

"You seem to think that you have me completely figured out and you know everything about me.  But you don't know shit, Jimin.  Just because we've been dating for three months does not mean that you suddenly know every thought in my head.  But you're about to find some shit out about me right now."

"You're right. I don't know wh-"

"Shut the fuck up." you said coldly.  "You want to know so god damn badly why Namjoon is my bias?  Fine, I'll tell you and you can either deal with it or you can continue to be a spoiled, selfish little brat.  I don't really care anymore."

He would've fought you for calling him that but internally something stopped him.

"I was never into this type of music.  It wasn't my thing.  I listened to metal and classic rock.  That was what I liked.   So BTS was never really in my statosphere.  But a few years ago, I was at my lowest. My husband had cheated on me leading me to file for an immediate divorce.  I had just lost our baby and I was wrecked.   I didn't want to do it anymore.  So let me paint you a picture here, Jimin.  I was standing in my childhood bedroom because I couldn't bare to be in that house where he fucked his secretary.   I'm standing there in front of my little vanity from when I was a kid and I had my grandpa's pistol loaded, the barrel in my mouth.  My finger was on the trigger and I started to press down."

Jimin, all with everyone else, had gone completely pale.

"And then suddenly my cousin's stereo starts thudding from the other side of the wall.  And it's "Voice" from Joon's first mixtape and I stopped.  Because for the first time in a long time, I felt like someone understood what I was going through.   I put the gun down and I saw there on the floor with my ear pressed against the wall listening to that song.  I cried until I couldn't breathe because no one had ever put my feelings into words like that before.  That song.  Those lyrics.  They saved me.   I put the gun away as if it had burned me,  I cried because I had been so close to ending it all over someone else who wasn't worth it.  I went home that night, researched the lyrics and figured out who wrote them and then I began listening to anything and everything that Namjoon had a hand in creating.  Because it was those words that kicked me back off the ledge."

Jimin was completely still at this point.

No movement.

No sound.

No nothing.

You were staring straight into his soul in that moment.

"So you'll have to excuse me if ever so often I get a little starstruck with the person who literally wrote the wrong that kept me from killing myself." you said lowly.

You finally looked around to see the rest of the members there, skin heating with embarassment that they'd just watched you and Jimin verbally rip each other's throats out and then hear your suicide attempt story.

You looked at Jimin once more before you shook your head and pushed your way through the members.

Several tried to comfort you but you didn't want to hear it.  

You just wanted out.

And that was exactly what you did, shoving through the door and disappearing from sight.

Immediately, upon the slam of the door, Jimin erupted into tears, crashing to the ground.

He hadn't known any of that.

Taehyung rushed to his side, pulling him into his arms and trying to calm him down enough to function.

Yoongi pursed his lips before going after you.

He knew what it was like to pick at old scars like that and how fresh those old wounds could still be.

He caught up to you rather easily, insisting that you let him take you out to eat.

You fought him on it but he did something that he rarely ever did.

He pulled out his super power on you and used his cuteness.

And you couldn't resist the lil meow meow so you caved... just like he knew you would.

You didn't mind it as much as you thought you would.

Yoongi didn't push you and instead the two of just enjoyed a meal together.

You fought him over the check but he already slipped the waitress his card before you could even get a word in edgewise.

Then he took you to a local dog park, watching puppies chase their own tails because he knew it was impossible to watch dogs smack into each other and not smile.

He didn't force you to talk or to address what had just happened.

But what he did do was stay with you, offer you kindness, made sure you ate and did something that made you smile.

He reached out to place his hand on yours and gave it a squeeze.

"I won't pretend that I know what you've been through.  I'm not that arrogant and I'm not you.  But I do understand what it's like to get to a point where you don't want to do it anymore." he said as the two of you focused on a pomeranian with an attitude problem who reminded you both of Yeontan.

"You can talk to me.  Anytime." he said.  "I know I don't usually say alot but I'll listen. I promise."

"Thanks, Yoongi.  I'm fine.  I promise.  I'm alot better now.  I'm not the person I used to be.   Things are different.  Jimin just really hit a nerve with what he was saying and I snapped." you explained.

He nodded with a sigh.

"Jimin is someone who is full of emotion.  He's passionate.  That sometimes means that he loses his temper when he's scared.  He loves you and he's more insecure about losing you than he lets on.   He didn't express that in the right way at all.  I won't defend him on that.  I'm just saying, don't give up just because you two had a fight.  A hell of one, mind you.  Do you realize that you're terrifying when you're angry?"

You finally broke into a laugh at his words.

"I thought Jimin was the scary one." you commented, knowing very well that every single one of them collectively thought Jimin was terrifying when he was really angry.

"Shit, he's a punk compared to you." Yoongi chuckled. "You looked like an absolute demon.  If I hadn't seen it for myself, I'd have never believed sweet Y/N looked like she was forged in the fires of hell."

You nearly snorted at his response before finally looking over at him.

"Thanks, Yoongi.  Really.  You made me feel a lot better." you admitted. "I'm glad you came after me.  This was much better than how I likely would've handled it."

"How would you have handled it?" he questioned.

"Probably something self sabotaging and toxic as hell." you shrugged. "Or maybe I just would've cried when I cooled off.  Or took off.  I've been known to jump in the car and just keep driving when I'm angry.  It's literally me running from my problems but for the lazy because fuck that.  I'm not running from anybody.  Zombies can just eat this ass."

He shook with laughter.

It was one of the reasons he liked you a lot and he thought you were perfect for Jimin.

You were naturally funny and had a great wit about you... and you were tough.  

You needed to be tough if you were going to date someone who worked in the business they did.

You don't fall in love with the idol, you fall for the person.... but that person still has a job and to be their partner is really hard.

It wasn't for the weak of heart.

The two of you sat there for a while.

You'd turned your phone off almost instantly as soon as you cleared the building, not even entertaining the thought of dealing with any questions.

You assumed that Yoongi had likely told someone he was with you since he'd been with you for hours and no one was calling him.

You took in his profile as he watched a squirrel run up a tree.

You could practically see him thinking.

"Just spit it out." you sighed and his lips quirked just a little before looking at you.

"What makes you think I have something to say?" he questioned.

"Because, unfortunately, we are too much alike in some ways." you said.  

He chuckled, "All I'm going to say is, cut Jimin some slack.   He's crazy about you.   Anyone can see that.   And also, give him a chance to digest everything you just told him today.  That was a lot.   You know that better than anyone."

"I didn't mean to tell him like that." you shrugged. "I didn't mean to tell him that at all."

"Why not?" Yoongi asked, very seriously.  "You love Jimin right?"

"Yeah, of course." you said.

"And you trust him?" he said.

"Yeaaahhh." you said.

"Then how come you haven't talked to him about that before?" he asked.

"Because we've only been together for three months, Yoongi and we haven't spent a ton of time with one another in those three months. You don't just blurt your past suicide attempts out to people like that." you all but snapped.

You were getting defensive and he knew it.

But Yoongi also knew that you were only being like that because he'd hit a nerve.

He knew because he was like that at times.

"You were friends before you got together." he pointed out. "I know you're an Army. I get it.  But you and Jimin clicked at that fan event that day.  Don't get me wrongs.  He's a hopeless flirt but Jimin has never willingly forked over his phone number like that.   He didn't even know your name and he was hooked."

You ground your teeth because you knew he was right.

"All I'm saying is, give him a chance.  He's jealous of Joon.  He can't help it.  A part of him wants to be your bias because he's your boyfriend.  I can get that." Yoongi shrugged.

"It's not like Joon is my bias is a romantic way, Yoongi." you sighed.  "I literally just -"

"I know." Yoongi cut you off.  "I know.  I get it.  Trust me.  We are all painfully aware of that situation now."

You chewed on your lip, vulnerable at having your business out there like that.

"Hey." he said reaching for your hand.  "I didn't meant that to come off the way it did.  I'm glad we know.  I wish you hadn't felt like you were so backed into the corner that you had to come out with it like that.  But still, it's good to know that about you.   I think it'll bring us closer as a group."

You just nodded.

He sighed, "Listen, I'm gonna tell you something that I think we'll help.   Men are rather simple in a lot of ways.  Some not so much but others- incredibly so."

You lifted a brow at him.

"Ok?"

"Explain that Joon's work inspires you and it helped you through a lot." he said.

"I literally just-"

"No, stop and listen to me." he cut you off.  "Explain that you admire Namjoon and his work. You love his writing.   This is also true for me or Hobi right?  You and I have talked for hours about some of my stuff and I know you and Hobi sat there and dissected Hope World for like three days.   You admire the work, the lyrics, the content, right?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"I know that it's a little different with Joon because his song was the first one you'd heard and it was a rather traumatic time.  So there's somewhat of an emotional attachment there.  And honestly, I think that's what Jimin is so scared of." he said.

"Scared of what?  It's music and yeah, I love the way Joon writes and yeah it was a crazy time but I'm in love with Jimin." you argued.

"Jimin is scared that Namjoon could take you away from him." Yoongi said directly.  

"What?" you gasped. "But I love Jimin."

"I know that." Yoongi said.  "Everyone knows that. But he also knows how much you obsess over anything Joon writes."

"It's good music." you said.

Yoongi nodded, "Yeah, it is.  But Jimin has likely got it in his head that you could easily just run off with Joon and have this philosophical conversations about poetry and lyrics.  I'd be willing to be money on it that he's insecure because you didn't start out loving BTS, you started out loving RM.   And that scares him."

"It was never about loving RM or BTS." you countered. "I needed those lyrics.  I liked RM as a musician.  I liked BTS as a group.  But I fell in love with Jimin.  And I'll tell you another god damn thing, I never fucking meant to either! I didn't want to love anyone after that shit happened!"

Your temper was flaring, which truthfully was dangerous, as Yoongi could match you in it.

But he also realized you were just very sensitive right now and not actually angry so he just watched you calmly.

"I didn't want to fall in love with anyone.  Ever again, Yoongi.  I was terrified.  I'm still terrified.  But I met Jimin and he fucking smiled at me and I crumbled.  It wasn't really about me falling in love with him.  I jumped head first into the darkness because even though it scared me shitless, I didn't care.  He's worth it.  No matter what."

You didn't realize that you'd gotten to your feet until Yoongi was smiling at you and he gently nodded over your shoulder.

You turned around and there he was.  

Of course.

Jimin.

With his expressive dark eyes and his dreamy lips.

As cliche as it is, it was almost as if time stopped.

There was nothing else but Jimin and you.

It became a race to get to one another and as soon as you got within arms reach of each other, your kisses were feverent.

"I'm sorry's" and "No I'm sorry" and "You didn't do anything wrong"  "I was just jealous" "No, no, no"

They all clanged together in a jumbled mess of mutterings slurred with kisses.

"Joon is not my bias, Jimin." you breathed.

"Baby, it's fine.  It's not a big deal.  I just got a little -"

"No, listen." you breathed.  "He's not.  I admire him.  I admire his work.  But he's not my bias.  I don't have a bias."

Jimin pulled back to look at you, "What?"

"I don't have a bias." you clarified.  "I don't pick favorites."

"Uh..." he said.

"I don't have a bias." you repeated. "But I do have something else.  Something super special."

"What's that?" he asked, brows furrowed.

"A keeper." you said.

"A keeper?" he asked.

"Yep, the keeper of my heart.  Only one person can be that and that's you."

It was cheesy.

Ridiculously so.

But Jimin melted for you and he squeezed your soft body to his so tightly that you could barely breathe.

And all the while, Min Yoongi sat on that park bench, watching the scene from the corner of his eye, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Smug grin ever permanent on his impish features.

"Lil Meow Meow strikes again..." he whispered to himself.

------

—-

Hey loves!

I hope you enjoyed and I’d love to hear your thoughts!

If you’re interested in any of my other BTS works you can find the masterlist HERE

Love,

Mama Kennysaurus

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——- Also, just a reminder that I am open for commissions! Additionally, the only tag list I have is my permanent tag list but if you ever want to be added all you have to do is just go to the ask box and request to be added! It’s that simple and you’re in! I love you all!

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[echo-of-sounds]

rejection sensitive dysphoria

How Aizawa, Toshi, Hizashi, and Gang Orca would support their s/o with rejection sensitive dysphoria.

Sorry if some of these are a little difficult to read. A lot of this is personal so I sort of prattled on. But I think I edited them down enough to make sense and read clearly.

Aizawa Shouta

Shouta struggles with a few of your ADHD symptoms, mainly clicking and tapping. He’s also growing and learning. He comforts you from sensitivities and learns to help with memory issues. But one thing that’ll throw him for a loop is rejection sensitive dysphoria. Handling people’s emotions, he isn’t that best at. Handling your self-accusations, nearly uncontrollable guilt, and alienation hurts, worries, confusions, and upsets him.

It’ll take a lot of practice on his part to understand what exactly RSD is and how it affects your thinking, behaviors, and feelings. It’s hard for him to grasp how him saying “Don’t do that” or how reading a nice, useful critique on your writing is enough to make you sob for ten minutes. Your train of thought just makes very little sense. It’s helping you. You should use the advice to improve your skills. But he doesn’t voice that. It won’t make you feel better.

While he is confused about your reasoning, he understands you’re hurting. That’s more than enough to make him sit down, hold you, and talk (which is difficult for him). After reading about RSD and gaining new insights, he prefers talking out what happened and what your thoughts/feelings were saying. It’s to guide you along a path of understanding the situation better in hopes it’ll calm you. He wasn’t disappointed. That was just your mind twisting the conversation. Now, that doesn’t stop the flooding emotions, but it’s reassuring to realize his disgust wasn’t real. He still loves you. He always will.

A behavior that puzzles him (i.e. worries him sick) is when you fluctuate between a social butter and a hermit. You try so hard to make someone like you so much, but then a week later, you’re completely isolating. You don’t respond to texts or calls. You don’t engage. You just turn dormant. It’s like you either need to be beloved or erased. There’s no in-between… 

And that makes Shouta feel as stuck as you. Though he hides it to an extent. He knows if he revealed annoyance at your withdrawal, that could very well make it worse. And since he isn’t that great at emotional subjects, his choice of words could make it seem like he’s mad at you when that’s not the case at all. His annoyance is at the emotions. They take you away from the world, from your friends and life and him. It’s upsetting. He’s hurt that you don’t partake in card games with friends or join him for dinner anymore.

After a while, he will have a brief outburst. Despite the anger, underneath the scowls and retorts, you can tell he just misses you. He’s your partner. You need to have some sort of involvement in the partnership. At the end of his blowout, he apologizes. And you should, too. It’s unfair for you to disengage for so long. He understands your emotions are difficult to handle, but he doesn’t deserve you neglecting him. It’s on both of you to work with each other and figure out the best way to cope.

Yagi Toshinori

Toshinori’s great with difficult emotions. Hero work’s given him plenty of practice. But he always has a soft spot for you and loathes how you berate and bully yourself. It’s not fair. Mistakes happen. Sometimes you mishear. You won’t always reach your goals, and that’s perfectly okay! It’s also okay to not be the best at everything. None of that means you’re a failure. Anytime he notices the brittle little switch flick on that revs up your thinking, he turns his focus to you.

Like when he drives you to your doctor’s appointment. But it was at one, not four. You disappointed yourself, made Toshi drive you for nothing, and took up his time and energy for fucking nothing. You failed. You’re a fuckup. It hurts. You don’t know why. It just hurts. It’s lonely. It’s overwhelming. You can’t describe the quality, nature, or aspect. You’re just scared and fragile and ashamed and inadequate and now tears are streaming down your face for absolutely no fucking reason and it won’t stop, it gets worse and worse and heavier and heavier and you just want to disappear.

Toshi gently pulls you to his chest. It doesn’t matter how ‘insignificant’ the reason is, he comforts you, softly reassuring he isn’t angry and you aren’t a screwup. You made a mistake. That’s it. There’s no consequence. No nothing. You two can go home and spend your time together, cuddling and kissing, instead of at a doctor’s office. You can fix the mistake later and all will be well.

The high standards you set for yourself upset him. It gives him anxiety. When you get your essay back, the one you spent uncountable hours on, and you only got a 91, he doesn’t understand why or want to see you cry. Out of one-hundred, that’s an amazing grade, especially on difficult subjects. He wishes you learn self-love and accept yourself- fumbles, slipups, and all. Because the minute you fail, since the standards are simply not achievable by anyone, you tongue-lash yourself to tears. You’re scared of failure. But that’s exactly what you set yourself up for with your thinking.

To help, he will read plenty about what he can do to support you. He knows it’s not all on him to fix. You work with your therapist and practice coping techniques. But he yearns to help. He always will. During the buildup of an emotional eruption, he talks with you, directing your mind towards self-compassion: self-kindness because you deserve warmth and sympathy from yourself, common humanity because everyone has flaws and faults, and mindfulness because you can have negative emotions without judging them or yourself.

Overall, Toshi is there to bolster and comfort you. If you need certain things explained or want company to an event, he’s right beside you. He wants you to love yourself as he does, completely. That includes your flaws and mistakes.

Yamada Hizashi

Hizashi’s very in tune with your feelings. The slightest change is often felt by him. It doesn’t matter if the criticism is real or perceived, he’s hugging you, drying your tears. You aren’t an idiot or annoying or inferior. You didn’t fail or disappoint. And he certainly isn’t mad or judging or rejecting you. He loves you dearly. The instant you withdraw because of his tone, words, or actions, he explains he isn’t angry, that he loves you just as much, if not more, than yesterday.

And whether or not the initiating scene was real, he reassures you that no matter how devastating, destructive the emotions are right now, they will pass. You will feel better. Your mind is just in overdrive right now. Once it hits the brakes, it’s easier to think about what really happened. You can recognize his critique wasn’t some personal attack because he suddenly abhors your mere presence. He was genuinely trying to help improve your piano skills. It was out of love. Everything he does is out of love.

The embarrassment and low self-esteem are his chief concerns. You deserve to feel comfortable with your mind and body. Who cares if someone doesn’t like your dress? Screw them. You’re fucking beautiful and worthy of having fun and feeling good. He tries his best to kiss the tears away. If you need more kisses in the places you hate, he gladly obliges. 

The idea of failing a task is too painful, so you never try. You don’t speak up even when you have a great idea. You don’t vocalize your needs because you’d rather be insignificant than called clingy and weak. Hizashi is the ideal man to help. He’s your cheerleader, supporter, and defender. He’ll tell the server your burger was wrong. He’ll listen to your ideas and bring them up, knowing they’re terrific, then make sure you get the credit you deserve. Your words are valid. You’re valid. It doesn’t matter if something you do isn’t the best. You’re still entitled to be heard, helped, and respected.

Hizashi cracks jokes galore. Sometimes they’re groan-worthy. Sometimes they’re pretty funny. Sometimes, after a stress-filled day when you’re raw and insecure, one minuscule jab in a teasing-but-maybe-not-but-maybe-bullying voice can reduce you to nothing. Because that’s exactly what you feel like- a stupid, unwanted, fruitless fool. He’s quick to catch the fumble and switches into snuggly mode, apologizing and nuzzling you under blankets. You know he never means to insult you. But that doesn’t stop the emotions from bursting.

He changes how and when he jokes by paying attention to your anxiety level. He also compliments you more, immodestly and extravagantly. It’s almost too much, but Hizashi doesn’t care. He just wants you to know how much he loves and appreciates you.

Gang Orca

Kugo struggles… a lot. Relationships and delicate emotions in general aren’t his expertise. In the beginning of your relationship, he notices your sensitivities straight away. He doesn’t bring it up at first. Thinking it’s him doing something wrong, he changes how he acts. Then it happens again and again, over things he’s plain confused by. Why does him saying “Not right now” or “I don’t care” bother you so? He was only answering your question.

The more he apologizes, the more ashamed you feel. You must start the conversation on RSD. He’d never mention it for fear he would appear rude or prying. And you’ll need to be specific about what you’re sensitive to so he can do his best to work with you. He reads all those relationship blogs and self-help magazines, hoping to find new ways to support you.

Like Aizawa, Kugo talks through what happened whenever you feel blamed or criticized. He desperately wants to understand your thinking. He hopes it’ll help you realize it wasn’t a big deal. Of course, it is a big deal when you’re sobbing and whipping yourself. But once you’ve calmed, he sits with you and just talks, openly and honestly: What about his words hurt? Was it a specific word, his tone, or what he said? Do you believe he meant to hurt you or was your mind goading itself on?

If you react with anger, he’s baffled. You asked for constructive criticism on your drawing and then when he gives it, you’re slamming your sketchbook closed and snapping at him. His go-to is to apologize. That just makes it worse because now you’re feeling angry and guilty. And his sad expression makes you absolutely incensed because why the hell isn’t he realizing that it’s not about him? And now he’s apologizing again and you’re crying and feel so exposed and threatened and judged and you can’t talk so you just run away, preferring to be forsaken than a burden.

Take the time you need to calm. Kugo will give you plenty of space. When the emotional flash dies and you realize you vilified him over nothing, find him, apologize, and explain. He appreciates both. He accepts your emotional dysregulation and all your strengths and flaws. However, he wishes you wouldn’t take your frustrations out on him. He loves you. He wants to be your backbone. But he can’t do that when you succumb to your fight-or-flight response.

To help reduce unnecessary stress, Kugo reminds you to eat right, exercise, and keep a sleep schedule. When you’re tired, he notices you’re on edge, expecting anger and rejection to come out of nowhere. He takes your phone from your fingers and carries you to bed. You’re unable to get up since he wraps you tight, so you might as well sleep. He pays attention to what you eat. If you haven't eaten healthily, he brings you a glass of water and apple slices with peanut butter. Any time you’re particularly jittery, he recommends going for a walk to get out the swirling energy. Or, if you suggest, sex to work out and get pleasure (which is always a bonus).

#aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #all might #all might x reader #yagi toshinori #toshinori x reader #present mic #present mic x reader #yamada hizashi #hizashi x reader #gang orca #gang orca x reader #kugo sakamata #kugo x reader #aizawa headcanons #all might headcanons #present mic headcanons #gang orca headcanons #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha headcanons

[nishisun]

suna rintaro is NOT a genius. (2)

part 1

summary: you loved the idea of soulmates. suna rintaro didn’t. it isn’t that hard to put two and two together to realize that maybe people with different opinions on things don’t belong together.

Summer 2021

[recording. patient: suna rintaro | session: 1]

[dr. natamoto] hello, rintaro-kun. how are you feeling this afternoon?

[suna rintaro] conflicted.

[dr. natamoto] ah. thank you for your honesty. so, what brings you here today?

[suna rintaro] team- ahem, my teammates.

[dr. natamoto] very well. (shuffles through notes) so, one of your teammates, miya-san, called me a little over a week ago and we discussed about your well-being.

[suna rintaro] ...i’m aware.

[dr. natamoto] do you have a specfic reason as to why you agreed to see a therapist?

[suna rintaro] i’ve.. been feeling down lately. I guess people noticed it, so i wanted to seek help.

[dr. natamoto] okay, (shuffles through notes) from my notes here, it seems that you’ve been feeling this way for a while. how long have you been feeling down altogether?

[suna rintaro] … a few months now. It’s gotten pretty bad these past few weeks. Alcohol has been my only escape. that’s kind of why i came.

[dr. natamoto] i see. Tell me, how often do you drink alcohol?

[suna rintaro] almost every day. i’ve been trying to reduce my alcohol intake because it affects the way i practice.

[dr. natamoto] i see. rintaro-kun, how would you describe yourself in one word?

[suna rintaro] (chuckles) irritable.

[dr natamoto] why did you pick “irritable”?

[suna rintaro] people say i’m an asshole, at least i’m aware. i know i get angry and annoyed easily, i’m not blind to my own actions.

[dr. natamoto] thank you for the explanation. so, miya-san also mentioned how you’ve been suspended from the black jackals team due to your behaviour recently.

[suna rintaro] (scoffs) if i knew that this place would make me feel shittier than i already do, i would’ve never agreed to come here.

[dr. natamoto] (chuckles) right, my apologies. (shuffles papers) so, growing up, miya-san mentioned that you lived in a destructive household? how so?

[suna rintaro] … (sighs) fuck. this is harder than i thought.

[dr. natamoto] take your time, please.

[suna rintaro] my parents didn't have the healthiest relationship with one another. my dad was an alcoholic and was abusive- still is i’m pretty sure. when he found out my mom was cheating on him he lost it i guess. (long pause) i don’t want to talk about my childhood that much.

[dr natamoto] i completely understand. last week, your father was taken into custody by the police, and you will have to speak at court, is that right?

[suna rintaro] ... yes.

[dr. natamoto] so, i’m guessing that ever since you heard the news, is when you’ve been feeling more down than usual?

[suna rintaro] yeah.

[dr. natamoto] tell me, rintaro-kun. at that specific moment, when you heard the news, what did you feel at first?

[suna rintaro] i don’t know, numb. i didn’t feel anything at first to be honest. It’s just been hard to be motivated to do things recently.

[dr. natamoto] okay, so you’ve been feeling numb, and haven’t gotten any motivation recently.

[suna rintaro] yeah.

[dr. natamoto] have you.. by any chance talked to someone about this?

[suna rintaro] (chuckles) i tried.

[dr. natamoto] and how did that go?

[suna rintaro] shitty.

[dr. natamoto] so sorry to hear that. who was this person you talked about it to?

[suna rintaro] someone really important to me, her name’s y/n—i fucked things up, again.

[dr. natamoto] how so?

[suna rintaro] she was concerend about my recent behaviour as well, i lashed out on her and said some hurtful shit that i didn't even mean. now she hates my guts, again.

[dr. natamoto] again? Explain.

[suna rintaro] i’ve known her since we were kids. our parents were childhood friends and we lived next door to each other our whole lives. we were never really close to one another, but we still talked every now and then.

[suna rintaro] i was into her in senior year of high school, though.that’s when we started getting closer. she acted like she didn’t want me but most girls act like that at first. they want you to chase after them, and i sure did even if i acted like a dick to her. it was worth it though.

[dr.natamoto] ... you must know a lot about girls.

[suna rintaro] sure do.

[suna rintaro] at her sister’s wedding a few years ago, i did some fucked up shit. She managed to give me another chance after meeting kimi and i fucked that up too. all i’ve ever done was hurt her. i keep coming back in her life and i bring her nothing but stress.

[suna rintaro] i want to be better—i really want to, but it feels like a never ending cycle. i just want to do something about it.

[dr. natamoto] well rintaro-kun, i am very glad that you’re willing to be better.

[suna rintaro] thank you. i needed that.

[dr. natamoto] anytime. now, why do you think you keep hurting her?

[suna rintaro] like i said, it’s ‘cause i’m a heartless asshole.

[dr. natamoto] what makes you think this way?

[suna rintaro] because all i do is hurt people.

[dr. natamoto] if you were heartless like you claim to be, you wouldn’t be seeking help to better yourself for you and your family. you’re far from heartless.

[suna rintaro] ... i guess you’re right.

[dr. natamoto] okay, (opens ipad) what do you see in this picture?

[suna rintaro] a baby.

[dr. natamoto] correct. now, what is the first thing you think about when you hear the word “baby”?

[suna rintaro] if i’m being honest? kimi.

[dr. natamoto] (laughs) makes sense. did you have any negative thoughts when you saw this picture?

[suna rintaro] no… not really.

[dr. natamoto] okay.. how come?

[suna rintaro] … what?

[dr. natamoto] how come you didn’t experience any negative thoughts when you viewed this picture?

[suna rintaro] … i don't know?

[dr. natamoto] so if i told you that i wanted to hurt this baby, how would that make you feel?

[suna rintaro] the hell?

[suna rintaro] concerned for you.. i guess. but why would you want to hurt a baby? Only a heartless asshole would do that.

[suna rintaro] … oh.

[dr. natamoto] exactly!

[suna rintaro] what’s the point?

[dr. natamoto] (shuffles through notes) you said “all i do is hurt people” a few minutes ago, but that isn’t the case rintaro-kun.

[suna rintaro] …

[dr. natamoto] i think that you claim to “hurt people” because you’re afraid of opening up, especially to y/n; you’re afraid to show vulnerability.

[dr. natamoto] when you said you lashed out on her when she was concerned about your behaviour. Is it maybe because you’re afraid that she’ll judge you for this?

[suna rintaro] no, she would never judge me. i know her.

[dr. natamoto] i thought you’d say that. so from everything i’ve heard, the only other reason i can think of is that you’re afraid of y/n and kimi getting attached to you, because you’re afraid that you’ll hurt her— them, again. am i correct?

[suna rintaro] ...

[suna rintaro] fuck. uh, yeah, you’re right. Shit.

[dr. natamoto] why is it that you don’t want them to get close to you?

[suna rintaro] .. they.. deserve better. i can’t give them both the happiness they deserve.

[dr. natamoto] and why exactly is that?

[suna rintaro] why is what?

[dr. natamoto] why do you think you can’t give them the happiness they deserve?

[suna rintaro] because everytime i’ve came back into y/n’s life, it was always me that screwed shit up. She’s been generous enough to forgive me everytime. i don't deserve all the chances she’s given me.

[dr. natamoto] rintaro-kun, do you want to hear my input on this situation?

[suna rintaro] well, obviously, you’re the therapist.

[dr.natamoto] here’s what i want you to do; i want you to talk to y/n, even if she “hates” you, which i’m pretty sure she doesn’t.

[suna rintaro] how do you know she doesn’t hate me?

[dr. natamoto] she wouldn’t be giving you so many chances. Don’t you think, rintaro-kun?

[dr. natamoto] i think the reason she keeps giving you chances is because she wants you to know that she’s hoping you’ll change for your good. she’s willing to stick with you through your ups and downs. and i don’t want to speak for her, but it seems like she’s in love with you.

[dr natamoto] may i ask, what exactly did you say to her the last time you’ve seen each other?

[suna rintaro] i… i told her to stop worrying about me.. and told her i wanted her out my life.

[dr. natamoto] did you mean that?

[suna rintaro] of course not. i’m a mess without her. i don't know why i said that.

[dr. natamoto] what caused you to say this to her in the first place?

[suna rintaro] i don't know, i guess i was already having a rough day and i wanted to be alone but she wouldn’t—she kept asking me what was bothering me. I’m a dick.

[dr. natamoto] it’s completely okay to want some alone time. Instead of lashing out, you can use a method called “I sentences”. It’s basically when you express the way you’re feeling, using “I” to start the conversation. for example, “I feel”. after you express how you’re feeling, follow it up with “I would like it if you’d please…” Try it.

[suna rintaro] okay…

[suna rintaro] i feel irritated right now and i don’t want to put it out on you. im grateful that you care for me so much, but I would just like it if you’d please give me some time alone for a while.

[dr. natamoto] perfect! since we’re running out of time, i want you to write down all the things you’re grateful for at the end of each day, just to end the night on a positive note. after doing this for a week, i want you to talk to y/n. If the conversation gets too heated, try to slow yourself down by using the “I” sentences. I know it may sound inconvenient at first, but trust me, they work. i want to see you in the next two weeks is that fine?

[suna rintaro] right, thanks doc.

[dr. natamoto] anytime! Have a wonderful day, rintaro-kun.

—welp this is the second part and unfortunately i never wrote a third part because this was just an old series that i gave up on a while ago. i hope you enjoyed it! i’m sorry i didn’t write anymore parts:( i’m just trying to empty up old things in my drafts

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #suna rintaro imagine #suna rintaro #haikyuu suna #hq suna #suna headcanons #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #suna x y/n #suna imagines #suna angst #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro scenarios #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro drabbles #suna rintaro angst #suna rintaro x you #msby x reader #haikyuu masterlist #masterlist #haikyuu series

[fragileizywriting]

"you need protein," luka tells her, for the fifth time today, when she complains about not cooking.

"are you trying to fatten me up?" she teases. she expects a 'no'-- a snort and a smile on that handsome face that is all symmetric except that clip in his nose that makes him look all the more beautiful. she expects a roll of his beautiful eyes, something that'll show up his lashes and how it'll get caught in his bangs that he'll have to wipe through. she expects a mumble or two about how hard it is to take care of someone who continuously rebutes everything he offers whenever he tries to take care of her.

instead, all he does is look over at her, away from the deep pan that sizzles with food. his eyes flicker gold as he looks her over, slowly going from foot to clavicle, just as teasing as she is. "took you long enough to figure it out, didn't it, little one?"

this completely derails her thoughts from the soup in the pot. he called it something in greek, but to her, all she heard was 'delicious', something making her nose twitch at the smell of fish and celery and tomatoes... and no matter how hard she wants to stop making eye contact with him and look back at the soup, the gold makes her stop in her tracks. she plays it cool, though, willing her tail not to sell her out into a traitorous curl that gives everything away. "why are you so interested in feeding me? you're not trying to do a houseflip renovation on me, are you? that used to happen a while ago to me, you know, people would sell me off to some high bidder talking about how good i suck dick--"

he corners her into the counter. she blinks and he's completely sealed her in, one hand behind her and another on her jaw, tilting her head all the way back so she can look at him. "sell you?"

"i--"

"you think i'd want to sell you?" he's teasing. he must be. he's got to be. that raised brow is telling, it is, but... his eyes are narrowing-- he follows the line in her throat when she swallows, pressing his thumb up to her pulse, as if he's actually irritated at the concept.

he's tall. her chin normally hits his diaphragm when they're shoeless... the two of them-- him and adrien, are always taking advantage of it whenever they can. and he especially uses it now, with the way her entire front is in contact with him, looking down at her in an angle that makes locks of his hair fall over his shoulder and rest only a few centimeters away from her face. breathing is hard to do when she's being squished against the counter, her chest nearly flat against him from how cramped it is between him and what's behind her, but her heart can't take it-- it stutters the more and more she looks at him.

she's completely speechless. her tail wraps around his sweatpants before she even realizes it, hand flying up to grab his wrist and hold him there.

he smiles. gentle. soft. blinking away the gold from his eyes and bringing back the blue, tracing her mouth with a thumb. "i don't like sharing you or adrien."

"oh."

"the thought makes me sick, honestly, of having someone else touch you, don't you know that?"

her stomach tightens, something fuzzy inside making her eyelashes flutter. her magic spikes at the thought of being really, truly exclusive... she doesn't have to check behind his broad shoulders to know that their fridge is probably so much bigger on the inside. "right..."

"i'm not feeding you because i want someone to profit off of you. i'm feeding you because i want you to be healthy. you're so pretty when you have weight on you, mousey."

she tries not to turn red. "but i--"

"and also i want you to have enough meat on you so i can fuck your thighs."

"oh."

"obviously."

"right. you sure are a bad person," she tacks on, lamely, not sure where the feeling in her legs have gone. there is nothing but liquid between her thighs as he leans down just enough to kiss her-- her toes curl and the hand at her pulse tightens just enough for her to gasp, and-- oof.

"go sit down," he tells her, when he's pulled away and she's starting to pant. he smiles, all handsome and warm, patting at her mouth with his thumb again. "i'm spoon-feeding you dinner."

#speakizys #demon lovin

[ficklefics]

Burden To Keep - Zemo x Reader ~ Chapter Four: Precision

Time to figure out how "real-life" your skills actually are.

CHAPTER THREE

SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

Taglist: @mochminnie @noavengers @alevelez01​ @boubouinscarlet​ @viviace​ 

Two men stood before you, dressed all in black. The gun was held by the taller one – you assumed he had spoken. “Critical te vrea înapoi. Nu încerca să lupți. Sau altceva.” Critical wants you back. Don’t try to fight. Or else. “Sau ce altceva? Eu nu mă duc.” Or else what? I’m not going. The ease with which the words fell off your tongue surprised you.

“You can speak Romanian?” Zemo tilted his head at you. “Apparently.” You couldn’t remember learning it. That scared you.

“You don’t get a choice.” The stranger switched to English, his accent strong. “Come, or I kill your friend.” His aim shifted to Zemo whose eyes widened.

“Wait,” You dropped the bag you were holding and raised your hands in surrender, “I’ll go. Just don’t hurt him.” “(Y/N)…” Silencing him with a shush you stepped past him. “Good. Bloodshed is not necessary.” He lowered the weapon. Only one thought ran through your mind: No one is getting hurt because of me.

And your instincts kicked in.

Grabbing the gun with one hand, you forced it down. Your leg hooked around his and yanked – he hit the cobbles hard. With him dazed and the element of surprise gone you launched yourself at the second man.

He was ready for you; he grabbed your arms, grappling you and pushing you against the wall. You immediately threw your leg up and kicked him in the stomach with enough for him to hit the opposite wall with a crunch. He slumped down to the ground unconscious, and your chest heaved for oxygen.

“(Y/N)!” Zemo’s voice called out in warning just before the shot rang through the alley. Pain seared through your upper arm. You grabbed at the graze, feeling the blood and the heat through the ripped fabric of your top. Like a whip, you lashed out, grabbing the assailant’s throat and falling to the ground with him. Holding his wrist away from him, gripping it tight until you felt a crunch and he released, you squeezed your other hand, watching his face grow red and his eyes widen in terror as he gasped for breath. You weren’t just choking him; you were draining his will to live, forcing him to experience the worst terror he had ever known. In only a few seconds his eyes rolled into the back of his head – but you kept going. It wasn’t until you felt Zemo’s hand on your shoulder and his voice telling you that you had to leave that you let go.

You let him guide you back through the streets, leaving the two bodies behind you. It was a haze. The only thing keeping you grounded was the ache and sting from the bullet wound.

The apartment was dark; clearly Sam and Bucky were still gone. At least there was that. “Sit.” Zemo gently but firmly placed you on the sofa before crossing to the kitchen and opening one of the cupboards. He pulled out a first aid kit and was immediately back at your right side. “I need to see it.” Shifting your hand, now sticky with blood, you exposed the wound. His fingers pulled the fabric away. You hissed as stray threads pulled at the flesh. He pulled out an antiseptic wipe and began to clean. It stung, but nothing like the feeling of the bullet tearing through you. And besides, something else was distracting you.

Zemo was close. So close. His rough hands surprisingly gentle against your tender skin. His brow furrowed as he concentrated. No words were exchanged. But your heart was racing. Each breath shaking, and not because of the pain.

There was something about him. Something that drew you in despite the danger. It might just be that you had gone so long without a kind touch – now the simplest action was like heaven to you. But that couldn’t explain the shivers that ran down your spine, the panic that swirled in your mind.

“This is going to hurt,” Zemo murmured, his eyes lifting to meet yours; something glimmered within them. He pulled out a needle and threaded it – his hand was steady. “May I ask you something? “Shouldn’t you be concentrating?” “I thought a distraction might help with the pain.” He shrugged. “And this is second nature.” You nodded, letting him continue. “You said that you have hyper-empathy?” “Yes-” The word cut off into a hiss of pain as he pressed the needle into your skin. “How do you handle that? Feeling everyone’s pain and sorrow? Especially in your… circumstance.” “I repressed it. Didn’t feel anything.” Your voice was quiet with the memories. “If I hadn’t, I think I’d have gone insane.”   “It was better to become numb.” Exactly. “Now it’s like a tap – I can turn it on and off. But it’s a sacrifice.” As he tied the final thread, he lifted his head. His gaze ensnared you. “I can’t go through life feeling nothing.”

Right now, you’re feeling everything. Fear, doubt, hope. Desire. You can’t tell what feelings are yours and what are Zemo’s. You concentrated on keeping the two of you separate until it felt as though there was a knot in your stomach; you clung to it like a life raft - worse than not being able to distinguish your emotions, you were afraid that you might accidentally use your powers on him. And you couldn’t let that happen.

The door slammed, breaking the connection between the two of you as Sam and Bucky entered the apartment. You pulled away from Zemo and pressed yourself against the arm of the sofa. Seemingly unbothered, he didn’t move, instead beginning to bandage the freshly stitched wound.

“What happened?” Sam immediately asked upon seeing the first aid kit and the bloody wipes. “We went to get clothes,” You answered, “Capital’s men found us.” “Shit,” He groaned, “Did they follow you?” “No. They won’t be going anywhere for a while,” Zemo smirked. “I knocked them out.” The explanation seemed to be satisfactory. “How did they find you so quickly?”

“I think I may know.” Zemo had stopped bandaging and was now examining your upper arm. He turned it to expose the softer skin on the inside and ran his fingers over it. The sensation tickled. “Yes, here.” He pointed to a spot where there was a thin scar, slightly raised. “May I?” You looked back to Sam and Bucky, who seemed suspicious. “Go on.”

He pulled a small scalpel from the kit – your eyes widened and instinctively you tried to pull away. His hand tightened, holding you in place. The blade slid smoothly under the white line. Bucky and Sam watched on, ready to leap into action if he tried anything. It was replaced by tweezers – uncomfortable, they shifted underneath your skin before gripping onto something and pulling it out.

A small scrap of metal. Almost like…

“A tracker.” He raised it up so Sam and Bucky could see.

“Fuck.” Your jaw had dropped. “I… I’m so sorry. I should never have stay-” “It’s not your fault (Y/N). But we need to get rid of it.” Sam stepped forward and grabbed it from Zemo. “I saw a hotel we can dump it at,” Bucky said. “I’ll take it.” He stretched out his metal hand for Sam to drop the tracker into it. “Get back here quickly.”

He gave a half nod before heading back out the door. Sam turned to where you and Zemo were still sitting. “Are you okay?”

You nodded despite the pain – you’d felt worse.

“Here,” Zemo leaned over you, fully invading your personal space, and grabbed the bag sitting on the floor beside you, “You should get changed.” “Thanks.” He shifted away, letting you stand. Sam’s eyes locked with yours. They screamed a very clear message: What the fuck is he doing? You shrugged, heading for one of the spare bedrooms.

You switched out the ruined jumper for a tank top just in time for the knock on the door. “Yeah?”

Sam came in, shutting the door closed behind him, and folded his arms. “Is something going on with Zemo?” You shook your head. “Not on my side.” You wondered whether to share your concerns – Sam was still practically a complete stranger, despite his Avengers status, and it might be safer to keep things to yourself. Then again… “I think that he has a plan. And now that I’m here, now that he knows what I am, his plan is changing.” “Doesn’t surprise me.” He sighed, leaning against the door. “Look, just be careful. And don’t let him get in your head.” “Message received.” You gave a mock salute. “Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of practice ignoring criminals.” He chuckled. “So Zemo told you what he did?” Hesitation. “Not everything. Just that he thought the Avengers had too much power and used the Accords to tear them apart from the inside.”

Sam was clearly irritated by your words.

“Not exactly.”

CHAPTER FIVE

#zemo x reader #helmut zemo #tfatws #helmut zemo x reader #zemo/reader #tfatws x reader #tfatws/reader #helmut zemo/reader #sam wilson #bucky barnes #mcu

[crimeronan]

Can you explain the appeal of Julian Blackthorn? This is a genuine question because I read the books and came away utterly bored by him and unconvinced of his moral greyness as opposed to like, Adam Parrish’s. He seemed so one dimensional to me but I want to know if I’m Wrong TM considering I tend to be very very biased toward my favourite characters and bored by the rest, and my favourites were Mark and Kieran. So maybe I just didn’t pay him enough attention??

it’s been a while since i wrote any earnest tsc meta but cringe culture is dead and the chance to infodump about my julian thoughts has me vibrating where i’m sitting so.  yes okay.

technical stuff

(aka: things pertaining to How The Story Is Constructed)

cassandra clare’s characterization has become much stronger just in general since she first began writing the series like twenty years ago

perhaps most importantly: the more recent stuff i’ve read from her has involved characters who actually grow, change, and learn from their past mistakes 

rather than repeating the same stupid decisions over and over again

and over and over and over some more

seriously take a shot every time someone in tmi miscommunicates or self-destructs in ways They Have Learned Not To Do for no real reason. u will die of alcohol poisoning

in tda this shines ESPECIALLY with the evolution of mark, kieran, and cristina’s relationship, but that’s a separate post

clare’s trademark is also the angsty traumatized jerkass love interest with a secret heart of gold

the woman is almost singlehandedly responsible for draco in leather pants and the proliferation of this kind of character type in fandom and teen lit. this isn’t a criticism it’s me marveling at how if you commit hard enough to a single trope you truly can change the world.  follow your dreams

sad jackass with a heart of gold isn’t an Inherently Problematic Character Type

but poorly done it can lead to relationship dynamics in which one partner is constantly being hurt by and then forgiving the other despite them making no real effort to change, because they are narratively absolved due to being sad

(there’s a lot of this with earlier jace content.  in some ways i think will was later created specifically to be a same-archetype protagonist who actually does get called on his shit and grow. that’s also another post)

also if all of your sexy male love interests are tortured jackasses with a heart of gold then people start calling you a one-trick pony

enter julian blackthorn!

from the very start everything about him is designed to be the INVERSE of the heart of gold jackass.  which immediately makes him interesting just from a meta perspective

(mark and kieran are also both alternate angles on this time-honored archetype.  mark gets the heart of gold and kieran gets the jackass and then they’re both much more deeply messy than that.  yet another post)

julian is kind, self-sacrificing, empathetic, artistic, emotionally supportive, responsible, and favored by old grannies everywhere

so a completely nonthreatening milquetoast guy, right

immediately forgettable if you’re only here for the dramatic conflicts and shithead antics of clare’s other protags

except that he is A Mess

and that he has structured his priorities very carefully, and they are as selfless as you expect from The Hero (TM) but they are also Not Heroic (TM) and they do not align with the moral framework The Hero (TM) is supposed to use

moral ambiguity in characters always exists in relation to their narratives imo. you mention adam parrish - trc’s narrative already mucks around in different ethical shades of gray, and adam falls on the canon scale about where julian does on his canon scale.  both more willing than the average pov character to do the ruthless thing or make the fucked-up choice if the ends justify the means; both with an intensely strong sense of internal priorities that they adhere to at all costs, both so unbelievably fucking down for murder; etc

i do think there are ways julian’s choices could have been pushed even further, but considering the number of readers who hate his guts already, i can see why clare opted not to go for the most controversial possible conflicts

so we’re flipping the narrative

instead of seeing this angsty bad boy and peeling back the layers of his trauma to find his heart of gold, we’re seeing the put-together selfless family man and peeling back the layers of his Responsibility Mask to expose the rotting husk underneath

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

THAT IS FUN AS FUCK

then when julian DOES lash out in hurtful, uncontrolled ways, he has significantly more narrative justification for it than most of clare’s protagonists (will elaborate in characterization thoughts)

julian is also interesting as fuck because of how his struggles allow for a more in-depth look at the failings of shadowhunter society, something that’s also sorely lacking in clare’s earlier work

his apparent amorality is simply the result of him making pragmatic and impossible choices because he has been faced with fucked-up ethical dilemmas since age 12 Because Society Has Failed Him

which opens the door for narrative exploration of how and why he’s been failed so badly & what needs to change

i also love that he has such a coldly calculated way of analyzing situations and allowing harm to occur when need be, bc a lot of clare’s early protagonists have such a bad case of Rush In And Get Myself Killed Because I’ve Got Feelings About Impulsive Heroism syndrome that i wanna push them in front of a truck

probably there’s other meta narrative stuff i could say but i’m stopping myself and moving on to character analysis

characterization stuff

(aka: reasons why i’m also attached to him in a vacuum)

i don’t read him as one-dimensional at all tbh

u may feel the narrative pushes “ruthless julian blackthorn” too much without delivering enough actual ruthless julian But i don’t think that’s the same as having only one dimension

from the get-go, the big question centered on julian is always “how far are you willing to go?” and the narrative pushes the stakes slowly higher and higher to continuously test julian’s “the price is always justified” mindset

he has a far more layered and realistic response to trauma than clare’s early protagonists - trauma affects every single aspect of his personality and how he conducts himself, and the effects vary depending on the circumstances

his conviction that he has to be the perfect parent to his siblings because they will fall apart if they see him show weakness??  rooted in how he feels like he’s fallen apart since losing the stable adult support he once relied upon

his willingness to hurt semi-innocent people, commit coldblooded murder, manipulate people using political leverage, allow harm to befall any stranger if it protects his family??  rooted in how he has already had to ask himself how much he’s willing to sacrifice, and how his family is his only source of stability when the world has never done Shit for him

his conviction that he has a darker heart than anyone else because he killed his possessed father, even though intellectually he knows he was saving his brother’s life??  rooted in having no means of processing this trauma and being unable to voice his feelings for fear of backlash from a deeply non-understanding society

the way he represses every single negative emotion he ever has, to the point where emma - his actual literal magic soulmate who can feel his emotions - is startled to find him hurting or angry??  once again all about how he has to be the perfect father or he’s failed completely

the way his anger is so totally disproportionate to different situations and the way his negative emotions can only come out in completely uncontrolled breaks??  all that repression baybey.  this kid has not processed a single bad feeling in five years.  every single real grievance and petty annoyance has been festering indefinitely inside him like a slowly spreading infection

julian’s arc involves him needing to get thru being his worst self to actually start to heal

as in, he has to actually learn to acknowledge his feelings, take care of himself, lean on his family, and let other people take some responsibility

he also has to learn that in his quest to be the perfect emotionally controlled authority figure, he has not actually learned how to control or deal with his emotions. like. At Fucking All. good god

the narrative setup is also about asking “how far are you willing to go?” until the answer is finally “not this far.  not this far”

and once he reaches that point, he has to reevaluate everything about how he weighs his priorities and morals and plans, etc

(i also like that emma has a perpendicular arc in which she’s always the one tempering julian and telling him “no we can’t go that far” until she’s willing to do something horrific that he absolutely won’t and HE has to stop HER. very sexy)

it’s also just really nice to have a character who’s learned to relate so well to literally every single member of his family while still having a very detached ruthless interior consciousness. i have similar feelings about how adam teaches himself to love people, but with julian it’s spelled out more explicitly in canon & it’s a more central character theme

i’m sure i’m also forgetting stuff here but this post is long enough so i’m gonna say good enough

and like i said in the tags on my other post, there are things i’d personally write differently if it were my story - plot points i’d shift, character contrasts i’d up, themes i’d explore differently, pacing i’d adjust, etc.  i have plenty of ways i could be nitpicky and editorial about the effectiveness of julian’s arc.  but i also don’t feel like writing them out at the moment & none of my critiques on effectiveness have an impact on the core appeal of his character 2 me.  he’s so fucking good

#replies #tsc #tda #julian blackthorn #meta #long post #ungodly long post. #shadowhunters #Anonymous

[tothemeadow]

if it's genuinely ok to ask for more, akaza anon would really, really love to see a part 2 of the fic you wrote last time!! like, after he escorts the reader home and she has more time to admire him, maybe she could fawn over how pretty he is and end up downright desperate to please him in any way possible? .. my thirst is showing, lmao... but i feel like demons need more appreciation for their 'demonic' aspects like fangs/markings/etc-- things the average person would likely be put off by. ;v;

sexy basketball

‘the taste of marechi pt. 2′ / Akaza x Reader

warnings: NSFW, mentions of blood, you know the drill

words: 1,624

-

There’s something about playing with fire that pulls you in; the mere danger of it all is enticing, the idea of getting hurt too risky, but it’s worth it.

Clutching onto Akaza’s bare shoulders, you muffle your squeals in his shoulder as he jumps from roof to roof. Air whistles in your ears, carries the loose strands of your hair. You’re flying, for gods’ sakes, and yet you’re spending every moment with your eyes shut. Just then, Akaza comes to an abrupt stop, his whole body relaxing.

“We’re here,” he mutters. Dropping to the ground, dust clouds around his feet and he gently sets you down.

Opening your eyes, you realize that he’s right; you gawk up at your home, the lights already burned out. It seems like no one else is awake.

“This place smells like you, so I just…” Akaza trails off awkwardly. It’s kind of funny, especially after he was fucking you so roughly merely minutes ago.

“You should come inside,” you murmur. Reaching towards him, your fingers interlace with his. In the moonlight, you can clearly seeing the dark blue markings covering his entire body, how they travel down his muscular arms and leave his fingers entirely blue. “I promised I had more to show you, didn’t I?”

“You’re awfully giving,” Akaza grunts, but he lets you pull him towards your home.

With careful movements, you unlock the doors and slip inside, kicking your geta off as Akaza slowly closes the door behind you. The air is thick with tension as you sneak towards your room, taking extra caution as to not awaken your parents. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, the idea of getting caught heavy on your mind.

Even after you slide the shoji screen leading to your room closed, unease still lays on your shoulders. The fact that a man is in your room has your mind spinning; this is inappropriate in society’s eyes, but you’re way past that at this point. You’ve already let Akaza defile you, and in the most delicious way possible. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want more.

Already, Akaza’s stirring behind you, his chest meeting your back as he drapes his arms around you. His hand caresses your inner thigh through your yukata, tauntingly close to where the searing ache is starting to grow once more. His lips skim over the bitemark he’s left, his claim of possession.

“I want to see you,” you breathe, your head lolling back onto his shoulder. You’re still somewhat dizzy from the passionate encounter earlier, your bottom lip swollen from his ruthless attack.

“Eager now, aren’t you?” Akaza mutters. He nips at your neck, drawing out a sharp breath from you. “And at first you were terrified to see me.”

“Please, Akaza,” you urge. You manage to spin around his grasp, your hands landing on his pectorals. Pushing him backwards, you guide him to your bed; the back of his knees catch on the edge of the mattress and down he goes, a slight laugh slipping from his lips as you straddle him.

You kiss him slowly, taking the time to savor his taste, the heat of his mouth. Your bitten lip aches, begs for a chance to take some time and heal, but you ignore it. Akaza grows more and more handsy, his large palms squeezing on the plush mounds of your ass. He relishes in your quiet groan, his tongue easily finding passage into your mouth. His cock stirs underneath you, prods at your pubic bone; it’s with great reluctance you pull away, a string of saliva sticking from your lip as you detach yourself fully from the demon.

Akaza groans impatiently, though he gets comfy on your bed and chucks off his clothes. He watches on as you light the few lamps in your bedroom; your hands shake from anticipation, and it’s almost impossible to strike the match. Glancing back over to him, you nearly choke on your own spit. He’s sitting up against the headboard, pink lashes cast low over his eyes, his fingers wrapped around his cock. The image itself is so sinful, and it makes the slick gathering between your legs spill onto your thighs.

You were a fool before. Seeing him like this, in actual light instead of under the moon, he’s ethereal. You’re drawn to him like a moth to a flame, your mouth hanging open in awe. Akaza merely looks at you in amusement, an eyebrow quirking itself on his forehead.

Dropping to your hands and knees on the bed, you crawl over to him. What once was scary, inhuman… it’s beautiful. You know he’s a demon, but he looks more like a god. His breath hitches as your hands run over his meaty thighs, run up his defined abs. The blue and gold of his eyes are precious gemstones, so deep and vibrant in color that you’re desperate to commit them to memory. You don’t want this to be the only night you spend with him, but an inkling the back of your head says otherwise.

Akaza stops all movements, his breath going completely still as you run your fingers over his face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the swell of his bottom lip. What you really want to see, though, are his teeth.

“Open up,” you murmur.

As if falling under your spell, Akaza opens his mouth. You stare at the dazzling canines, the tips sharper than any blade out there. It was those teeth that bit into you, that tongue the beckoned your blood to spill. Pleasure makes your entire body thrum as you slowly poke at his sharp teeth. You jolt in surprise when Akaza’s lips abruptly close around your finger; keeping his eyes focused on yours, he suckles on your fingers, his tongue lathering over the digit. His teeth scrape against your knuckle, just barely breaking the surface. He moans throatily as the tiniest droplets of your delicious blood land on his tongue.

You can’t stop staring at him. You press your finger further into his mouth, push down on his tongue and urge him to bite you some more. Your other hand joins the one he has wrapped around his cock; he groans at the touch, his eyes fluttering enticingly.

“How are you so pretty?” you breathe. Removing your fingers from his mouth, you run them down his body, follow the lines of his dark blue markings. The colors of his skin, his hair, his eyes… You’ve never seen anything like it before.

“(y/n), fuck,” Akaza grits. He chokes on a moan as you gently squeeze his cock. “Take off your clothes…”

“Yes, my lord,” you say automatically. Akaza’s cock kicks in your hand at the title, a fat drop of precum swelling from the cockhead and slipping down the side.

He hisses as you pull away; you make hasty work of stripping down, your nipples standing to attention, the slick between your legs feeling cool against your heated skin. Akaza moans at the sight, his hands reaching out and eagerly grasping onto your breasts.

“Akaza,” you purr, “I want to pleasure you. My lord, please.”

The moan bubbling from Akaza’s chest is muffled as he stuffs his face between your breasts, his hands dropping down to your ass instead. He mouths at the swell of flesh, his tongue dragging a hot trail up your sternum.

“Bite me,” you plead. “Drink from me. Ruin me.”

“Shit, shit, shit – fuck!”

Yanking you closer, Akaza lifts your hips, snaps you down on his aching cock. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the sudden intrusion, but by the gods does he feel wonderful. Sparks of pain and heat erupt in your chest; his teeth retract from the side of your breast, his hot tongue quickly replacing it as he sucks at the rich blood pouring from the wound. He continuously fondles your breasts, rolling and pinching at your hardened nipples with his fingers.

You take it upon yourself to fuck him. Setting a frenzied pace, your thighs burn with the movements, your velvety walls clenching around his cock with each smooth stroke. Akaza growls against your skin, his hands finding purchase on your ass once more as he helps guide you through the moves. Wet sounds echo throughout the room, along with the sound of skin hitting skin and heavy panting.

Fingers clenched around the strands of his hair, you cry out his name, your voice impossibly hoarse. You want to scream, let the whole world know who’s fucking you so damn good, but you can’t. Not if you want your parents to find out you’re sleeping with a man-eating beast.

“Delicious,” Akaza husks. “I wanna suck you until you’re dry.” He bounces you even quicker on his cock, his hips rocking up into you at the same time. You have no choice but to take it, allow yourself to become his plaything while he fucks you into oblivion. “How is your pussy still so tight?” he pants. “Let me fuck you all night.”

Without even realizing it, you nod frantically at his words. You wish he’d fuck you forever, drink your blood to the very last drop. Even as Akaza rapidly brings you to your orgasm, he bites at your chest over and over, leaving deep marks and drinking as much as he wishes. You cream around his cock, your hand slapping over your mouth as your orgasm rips through you; Akaza merely growls and flips you over, your back digging into the mattress as he sets on a conquest to make you cum all night long.

Because you’re delicious and you’re his, whether you like it or not.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny akaza #akaza #akaza x reader #request

[abluescarfonwaston]

Shapeshifter Au -4

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3  Inspired by @spielzeugkaiser art here

So. Geralt knew.

He didn’t know how long Geralt had known for. Didn’t particularly want to know.

Had he just worked it out from his scent as a bear? Had he recognized the lute that was smashed on Filavandrel’s floor? Had he used his Witcher senses to figure it out when he was a lark with a broken wing sleeping in his saddlebag? Was it some little tick that had given him away of there months together?

He didn’t want to know.

He woke up the morning after the incident and promptly shifted into his human form. Packed up his part of camp and waited.

Waited for the questions, for the false promises, for the placating words.

‘I wont tell’ ‘How does it work?’ ‘You’re still Jaskier’

Geralt groaned, sitting up slowly. Blinking sleep from his bleary eyes that rare way he did when he felt safe upon waking. Found him across the burnt out fire.

He tensed.

Geralt nodded and slowly set about disassembling camp.

The world skewed slightly to the left as they set off.

He waited for Geralt to snap at him to ‘just turn into something Roach could carry’ when he complained about his feet hurting too much.

Waited for Geralt to tell him to ‘shrink into something more manageable’ when the bed at the inn was too small for both of them to reasonably share.

Waited for Geralt to request he turn into something useful- to help track down a monster or carry his weight or or or-

It was easy to not shift. He went weeks without shifting as he waited. Waited for Geralt to make some attempt to be reassuring about how he ‘knew’ what Jaskier was or some request that made it clear Geralt thought he was some party trick or. Or something.

And still Geralt was silent on the matter.

It was annoying. It was so damn annoying.

That’s all it real was. He was annoyed. Annoyed that the song he’d worked on for two weeks had gotten a tepid reaction and that his chemise kept static sticking to his arms and it was hot and the bar was loud and and and-

And he wasn’t entirely sure why he was yelling at Geralt but he was and Geralt didn’t even have the decency to look affected by it. Just said his name warningly. And sure maybe he’d be embarrassed about acting like a tantruming toddler later but he wanted to hiss and scratch and draw maybe just a little fucking blood. So that maybe- fucking maybe- someone would understand just how pissed he was.

For the first time in weeks he wanted to shift. Shift into the angry tomcat he felt like. Small and angry in a world that was so much bigger and more dangerous than him but that still had claws. Could still yowled and scratch and make bleed because he might have been small but that didn’t mean he was helpless.

But he couldn’t. Because they were in a bar and everyone was staring at him or pointedly not staring at him and Geralt was throwing him over his shoulder and hauling him to their room. His fingers digging into Geralt’s shirt as he struggled to keep them from becoming claws ripping little pinholes into the fabric. He couldn’t shift because there were people and he was still yelling because he was still so fucking angry-

The door slammed closed behind them and Geralt shifted him so he was holding him up by the armpits and at least he had the decency to look a little irritated but he didn’t want to be held so he shoved a hand at Geralt’s face to push him away and-

And the shape collapsed under him.

He shoved his orange paw against Geralt’s face and lashed his tail and hissed all the same.

Orange. Most of his forms were brown. Because brown was the color of his hair and he liked his hair. But someone told him once that all orange cats were male and whether or not that was true he liked that. Liked that when people saw this form they’d know he was a boy.

Sometimes that felt important.  Because most people couldn’t tell what gender most animals were and would just pick one for him. Usually it didn’t matter because he didn’t care but sometimes he did and he liked that maybe his gorgeous long orange fur made that more obvious.

But now Geralt wasn’t even looking irritated anymore! Even with his paw unsheathing claws threateningly against the stubbled skin of his cheek.

No he looked surprised and then it melted into a disgustingly soft smile. Swear to gods If Geralt tried to pet him right now-

Geralt glanced down at his tail, lashing back and forth without pause.

“Ah.” He was swiftly deposited on the bed, Geralt settling back on the floor. “The bar was loud wasn’t it.”

Well he didn’t know what that had to do with anything but Geralt just sat across from him, staring at the wall above his head. Not attempting eye contact.

That helped. He needed to watch Geralt but eye contact would have been too much for him to handle right now with every too loud noise from the bar still scraping at his skull.

Slowly his tail settled behind him and he let his eyes sink close. Safe in the knowledge Geralt wasn’t going to do anything.

He’d explained cat body language to Geralt several months back. Because Geralt had explained (heartbrokenly complained really) that cats didn’t like him. Because he was a ‘mutant’ and they knew it.

Which was complete hogwash.

They didn’t like him because he was a big unfamiliar person approaching feral cats who were better acquainted with the toe of a shoe to the belly then the gentle curl of fingers under their chin. Because he tried to approach them like dogs and didn’t have the time to win over anything but the cuddliest of cuddle slut and there just weren’t that many of those around.

Lucky for Geralt he was a proud member of the cuddle slut kitty brigade. After he’d concluded his lessons on how tail lashing was not like tail wagging on dogs- it meant they were highly stimulated and which could easily pass into Overstimulated- and how to introduce himself and all the best places to pet he’d taken his leave of Geralt for the evening.

Approached him as the cuddly fluffy orange cat he was within the hour. Making his home on Geralts lap and purring as loud as he could demanding all the cuddles he’d been denied in his human form.

That. That might have been when Geralt figured out what he was now that he thought about it.

He still wasn’t sure he wanted to know what had given him away. Especially if he couldn’t change it- like his scent. Or if he could- because then he’d have to. To stay safe.

He jumped off the bed and head-butt Geralt’s hands until Geralt started petting him. Laid down across his lap as Geralt gently covered himself in his fur with each soft stroke.

He should look into a white form. So he could really mess up Geralt’s all black color scheme.

Geralt’s hands eventually stilled and he begrudgingly shifted up. Tucking his head into Geralt’s neck he mumbled, “Shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“Seemed like a bit of an overreaction to me eating the last mushroom.”

“You know those are my favorite.”

Geralt snorted and ran a hand through his brown hair. “It was my plate.”

“I have no idea what your point is.”

“Right.” He nuzzled into Geralt’s neck. He couldn’t really smell how they mixed together as a human but the shapes that could always found comfort in it. “You.” He paused. “Transformed again.”

His heartrate picked up and his gut start churning. He didn’t want to have this conversation. Ever really. He’d never had to and he didn’t know where to start. Didn’t want Geralt to say something that would make him angry or sad or break his heart. He just wanted to be a human for Geralt. Simple and easy and human.

Not that he was simple or easy. Or human. Probably.

Whatever he was it probably wasn’t human. Not really. But he wanted to be. For Geralt.

Geralt’s other hand came up and squeezed lightly around the long healed bone.

“I wont ask.” Geralt said as Jaskier swallowed a sob. “But I’ll help. If you want.”

“It’s not a curse.”

Geralt hummed acknowledgement.

“It’s just me. It’s always just me. Okay?”

Geralt made a noise like he maybe understood. A little. But not much.

“I can.” It felt weird to say it out loud. “Shift into anything so long as it’s still me.”

“Anything?” He saw the smirk and pointed stare he was making at the chair.

He smacked his shoulder. “If it’s me.”

He was living. Living and breathing and moving and thinking. How was he supposed to be something that wasn’t?

“Not like a Doppler then.”

“Would have thought the bear shape rather gave that away.” Dopplers could become anyone- but were restricted by mass. He wasn’t. Sure he shifted down or up in steps normally but that was because it was easier. Because feelings normally built in size instead of appearing all at once.

Geralt conceded the point with a nod. “Does-“ He stopped.

When it became clear Geralt wasn’t just collecting his thoughts he nudged him. “Ask.”

“Does it hurt?” Geralt wasn’t looking at him and his face was flat but he could feel the tension under his hands.

“Nope!” He reassured. Geralt tensed further.

“In the woods-” He started.

“Those were extenuating circumstances! I’m sure it looked terribly grisly from your perspective but I just couldn’t find a form that fit because.” He stopped.

“Because you were scared.” He nodded into Geralt’s neck. “Of me.”

He stopped nodding.

“Everything’s not about you Geralt.” He pulled back enough to glare at him. Geralt returned it. “It’s Not. Sure I was scared of you but I wasn’t scared of you. I know you wouldn’t lock me up and sell me to a circus to turn tricks or a mage for experiments or anything. I know that. There’s just a difference between knowing and knowing. Okay?”

Geralt studied him before slowly nodding. He tucked his head back into Geralt’s neck.

He wanted to stay here. Here with Geralt. It pulled a question from his gut that he didn’t want to ask- that filled him with fear even as it spilled from his tongue.

“What do you want me to be?”

Geralt’s brow furrowed and he turned his head to the bard.

“Come now you must have a preference.” A voice that was cocky and sure prodded. A voice that was his but was not his. “A shape you’d prefer me to be?”

His face turned and he felt distantly as his eyes glittered and a smile blazed on his lips. Feeling terribly out of control as he begged his heart to race. To respond.  To fight whatever power directed his body without his command.

As Geralt’s lips began to form words he could feel the magic preparing to shape him. Bind him in that form. Lock him without shackle or key into whatever Geralt wanted him to be.

“What would it matter?” Geralt said, face relaxing into a small smile and raising a brow. “It would still always be you.”

He sank into Geralt’s shoulder as the compulsion faded, taking with it his fear. He didn’t know what that was and he didn’t particularly like it but- “It would be.” He agreed.

It would always be him.

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt #jaskier #shapeshifter au #today Geralt gets to pet a kitty #The kitty is Jaskier of course but still #also establishing the rules if your into that like i am #geralts a bit softy and that is all #writing

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

Fine Line | Jurdan Quarantine AU

Written for Jurdan Week 2020, hosted by @jurdannet​ | Day 4- Song Crossover (Adore You by Harry Styles requested by @mysweetvilllain​ )

Chapter Rating: M

CW: mature themes, explicit descriptions, vulgar language, eventual explicit content.

Summary: Two vindictive assholes. One shitty apartment. And a vow to get under each other’s skin. Stuck in hate together twenty-four-seven, this can only end in a crime of passion.

Next Chapter    |    Fine Line Masterlist    |    Masterlist    |    AO3 

Chapter 1- Adore You (Verse 1)

[Cardan POV]

The minute I walk into the kitchen, I know I’m fucked.

She’s sitting there on one of my bar stools, at my island counter, eating my strawberries straight out of the plastic container. I say “my” because I’m still in denial that I have to share this shit-hole with anyone. Especially her.

When I put the ad up online, I was skint and desperate. I would’ve taken anyone short of a serial killer, really, but I was hoping for normal. Or at the very least, boring. It’s just my luck that the only person who responded to the ad was someone so insufferable.

We were civil with each other for all of a day. Three weeks had me almost driven to moving out. Me. Moving out of my own damn apartment because even that is easier than living with Jude Duarte. 

That’s when corona hit, so I guess I’m stuck.

It’s been a fortnight of isolation. Putting up with her unmitigated bullshit. Her ceaseless presence and mulish disposition. Our constant butting heads. 

On a good day, I give myself over to the ashen taste of resignation. On the bad ones, I want to throw myself down the stairs just so I can spend the night in hospital. 

Anyways, I’m fucked because my wretched flatmate is sitting there in her baggy black sweatpants and oversized hoodie. Her knees are tucked up to her chest, giving me a plain view of those stupid rainbow socks she’s always wearing. Her hair is a mess on top of her head. Everything about her sets off a tick in my jaw.

Except the way she eats strawberries.

Her full pink lips wrap around one now and—fucking hell. I swear my cock twitches. When she sinks her teeth in, those lips come away red-stained and glistening. A line of juice dribbles down her chin as she chews. Then, she pops the stem into her mouth and eats that, too.

I find myself imagining her on her knees, strawberry lips wrapped around something else of mine. The way the back of her throat would feel as I ram into her mouth—

I blink. My lip curls. I need coffee, and maybe a cold shower.

The former is closest, so I stop standing in the doorway like the twat that I am, and walk into the kitchen. Thankfully, she’s got earphones in and is so immersed in whatever the fuck she does on her laptop all day that she hasn’t noticed my blatant ogling.

If she notices me at all, she doesn’t acknowledge it.

Good. It’s better this way. The less we talk the less we end up screaming at each other. It’s only happened twice. The neighbors came round both times.

I pull a mug and the instant coffee down from a shelf.

It irks me. Just last night, I was standing in this very spot, doing everything in my power not to lose my shit after finding a pile of her dirty dishes in the sink. For the third time this week. She always says “they’re soaking”, and I always end up doing them later anyway, because I can’t stand the mess.

She does things like that a lot. Dishes and crumbs and wrappers. Stealing my food. A week ago I found a pizza crust jammed in between the cushions of the sofa. She denies all accountability, of course.

Not to mention, she sets her alarms for the ass crack of dawn. She’s such a heavy sleeper that I’m invariably wide awake well before she is, listening to the incessant shrill of her phone through the walls as she hits snooze, over and over.

I’m certainly not without my faults, of course. I know she hates me just as much as I hate her. She’s told me as much. Which is why I’m miffed that suddenly, without any warning, I want to fuck her into the kitchen counter.

There’s a spoon in the drying rack and I use it to stir my coffee. 

Nicasia hated me, I think to myself. She loved me once, but she hated me for a while before she did anything about it. Then, I stop. Because I don’t want to uncork that bottle today. Point is, maybe it’s not completely out of left field. To want someone right when they’re giving you the very least of their attention.

I tap the spoon against the lip of my mug. Usually, I’d retreat back to my bedroom at this point. Instead, I throw the spoon in the sink and turn around to lean against the counter.

She’s still sitting at the island, honed in on her computer. I can hear the thin, metallic wail of a guitar coming from her earphones. She bobs her head slightly to the beat.

It’s not as if she isn’t attractive. In her own, unique way.

She’s strong. If I didn’t hear her pummeling that blasted punching bag she’s got hanging in her room every night, I’d have known she boxed just by the way she looks. She’s got a fighter’s build about her. It lives in her shoulders, in the barrel of her chest. As if every line of her was made bold and unyielding. With intention. 

Again, I have to stop my own wandering thoughts. I’m starting to wonder if maybe my dead end job that has me editing bad romance novels for a living is starting to go to my head. 

It pays the bills until it doesn’t. And then it rots my brain. Maybe I should quit.

Still, I tell myself it’s the quarantine talking. That if I wasn’t trapped in here with her, I wouldn’t find anything about her attractive. That I’d probably be willing to whore myself out for one cigarette right about now. And I don’t even smoke.

But then she looks up at me, mid-bite. Those honey-brown eyes are wild. They threaten to cut straight through me. She squints, accusatory. Chews her bite, slow. Swallows.

My mouth goes dry as the fucking Sahara.

“What are you staring at?” she demands, glare blazing.

Apparently, I’m in the mood to walk that fire, because I take a sip of my coffee and say, smug as I can, “You.”

Sometimes, it’s better to be completely honest with Jude. The truth always seems to appall her far more than any lie ever could. As if she expects everyone to be deceiving. Or maybe it’s just that my truths are so outrageous to her that she doesn’t believe them.

I wouldn’t blame her there. I can hardly admit to this truth, myself. Whether she believes me or not, though, it gets under her skin.

“Right,” she scoffs. “Is it because I’m pretty? Is it because you like me so much?” She bats her lashes at me, mocking. I am stunned by the fact that, for a moment, I wish it was real. That I’d gladly lose myself in that look if it came from her eyes in earnest.

Then I shake my head. I sound like the biggest shit-for-brains. It’ll take more than a few eyelash flutters to make me surrender.

“Oh, no,” I say, trying to match her taunting tone, “I don’t like you. I adore you.”

That makes Jude roll her eyes. “Please,” she says. “You’re probably plotting ways to stick me in my sleep or something. Fucking psychopath.”

It’s that last part that makes me take a step toward the island, lean forward to rest my elbows on the counter so I’m nearly in her space. She doesn’t draw back. Just gives me a scathing look from over the top of her screen.

“If I’m ever depraved enough to stick you,” I tell her, smirking, “I guarantee you won’t be sleeping, love.” Which may come off as anything from perverted to downright murderous, but I don’t care. The face she makes is worth it.

It’s all jaw dropped, vicious gaze, blush creeping into her cheeks like red smoke. I’ve never challenged her before. It makes her look at me like she despises me. Like the only thing she’ll ever do is despise me. I don’t know why that eggs me on, but it does.

“Would you look at that,” I hum, “You’ve got the face about right, too.”

Her nostrils flare. Jaw sets. There’s a lovely shade of puce coming up on her already heated cheeks. She’s absolutely livid, and I can taste it in the air between us. It’s like static on my tongue.

That’s when something cold and slimy hits me dead between the eyes. Jude’s half-eaten strawberry plops to the counter. I’m so surprised I almost laugh.

“You’re disgusting,” she says with as much derision as I feel coursing through me.

Part of me wants to give into that anger. Sling a string of curses at her. Throw the strawberry right back in her face. Those things won’t annoy her half as much as what I actually do.

Keeping an unbothered expression, I pluck the strawberry off the countertop and pop it right into my mouth. Stem and all. I lick my fingers for good measure. All while keeping direct eye contact with the little menace sitting across from me. Her gaze flits to my lips. So I swipe my tongue over them. She blinks.

“Delicious,” I say.

She looks just the right amount of scandalised for me to straighten, take my coffee back up in one hand, and saunter out of the kitchen. I don’t say anything about the strawberries. Or how stealing isn’t a very good exercise in courtesy.

We’ve never been courteous with one another, anyway.

When I’m back in my room I lean against the closed door and scrub a hand over my face. My heartbeat is raging since I did not.

Sometimes, I think the irritating things she does are all on purpose. Just to get under my skin. I rarely give her the satisfaction of knowing it works, but I don’t like letting her trample all over me, either. It gives me an oily feeling. Like I’m back to being under someone else’s thumb, and I hate it.

But that—whatever that was—felt more like fighting back than I ever thought I’d have the balls to do. I feel more alive now than I’ve felt in months.

Maybe that makes me a bastard. C’est la fucking vie.

I start shucking off my clothes, throwing them into the hamper in the corner, one by one. My bedroom is mercifully en suite. If I wanted to, I could live in here for days at a time without leaving.

I don’t know why I ever bother.

I go into the bathroom and turn on the shower. As I stand there under the cold stream, I think about how dangerous it is, this game I’ve entered. Flirting with Jude to get a rise out of her is one thing. That’s clear cut. A direct retaliation.

It’s another thing entirely if part of why I’m doing it is to take the edge off of my own perversions. I mean, what kind of sick fuck has sex fantasies about someone they hate? Someone they’re stuck in isolation with, twenty-four-seven, for the foreseeable future? Someone who hates their guts, too, and could probably easily take them out if it came to physical blows?

I guess that sick fuck would be me.

It’s a fine line to walk but there’s no turning back. I’ve already begun.

☽☽☽☽☽

AN: So I guess I’m hopping on the quarantine fic bandwagon 😅 this is definitely not what I expected to come out of this song crossover prompt, but I kind of like it? It’s (very loosely) based off of Adore You by Harry Styles- the threads are there if you look for them 😉

I’m planning on making this a 12 part series (one chapter for each song on Fine Line) so if you’d like to be added to the tag list for this, or to my Jurdan Forever tag list, let me know in the comments/my messages/inbox and I’d be happy to add you! 

-Em 🖤💫

Title Inspo: Fine Line (album) by Harry Styles, Adore You (song) by Harry Styles

Tag List: @velarhysismine​ @knifewifejude​ @the-mithridatism-of-jude-duarte​ @clockworkgraystairs​ @thesirenwashere​ @judexcardanxgreenbriar​ @nite0wl29​ @aelin-queen-of-terrasen​ @whocares-idont​ @babycardan @mysweetvilllain​ @aesthetics-11​ @storiesandschemes​ @jurdanhell​ @poeticbrownmermaid @thechainofiron​ @random-llama-socks​ @villanellevi​ @lady-thea-of-narnia​ @b00kworm​ @flowersinvegas​ @vanessa172003​ @cardanstrickytail​ @queen-of-glass​ @doingmyrainbow​

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Fine Line Masterlist

Masterlist

#surprise! #it's a full chapter #a whole ass meal #tfota #jurdan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #tcp #jurdanweek2020 #day 4: film/song/fandom crossover #was i the dumbass who started two (2) new aus this week? #why yes yes i was #jurdannet #jurdan week #twk #tqon #qon #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #the queen of nothing #queen of nothing #the wicked king #holly black