#intruder drills

[the-brain-person]

Warning under the cut for vent post about school drills, generally pessimistic doomscrolling beyond this point, you have been warned

I hate intruder drills

I hate the fact that each time we have a 'drill' it could be the real thing

I hate the fear

And sometimes, I hate myself for catastrophizing.

(Catastrophising - noun - to overthink or to constantly be worrying over worst case scenarios.)

#tw vent #vent post #intruder drills #catastrophyzing #seriouspost #the opposite of a shitpost

[discworldwitches]

i never rly thought about how some people wouldn’t do earthquake drills. like obviously it’s not as frequent in other places but i just never rly thought about it.

#also just recalled the lockdown drills were just as much for an intruder/active shooter as it was for bears appearing on school grounds

[intruder-time]

My TV is broken. Could you enter my TV and help me to fix it?

For sure for sure. I’m Bob the builder I guess.

#Ignore the fact that the drill doesn’t have a battery #it was CHARGING #intruder speaks #intruder plush #tmc intruder #tmc #the mandela catalogue

[slightly-gay-pogohammer]

gunshots…yeah I find it both terrifying and heartbreaking that schools have drills for active shooters/intruders. I’ve seen other students have panic attacks during the drills more than any other drill type, sometimes when parents know a drill is coming up they keep their kid home that day. I am now friends with several teachers and they’re all scared that one day they’ll be in a real situation :( It’s absurd to me and one of the things that makes me angry like nobody should live this way

this is

so sad god.

#''um but gun safety removes my rig--'' shut up. shut the fuck up. #everytime i remember about shooters drills and that american schools have guards in there to avoid intruders i get angry #gio replies

[elin-moon]

Bro, I just remembered something that I completely forgot to mention.

Friday last week, last day of school before half term break, it was period 5 and I was in Drama. We were all just chatting instead of doing any work, and at some point one of my classmates asks about the intruder alarm our school has. Both me and her had never heard the intruder alarm, and both our previous schools didn't have intruder alarms.

So, you know, the teacher tells up what we're supposed to do in case of an intruder alarm, where to hide and to lock the doors and what not, and one of the other kids kind of described how the alarm sounds like (said it was a bomb alarm)

So, the teacher gets us back to rehearsing, and we're watching this one pair do their performance. It's about fifteen minutes till the end of lesson, they are halfway through their performance, when the intruder alarm goes off. Great.

So, after the initial shock, we all rush to grab our bags and run to hide in the prop cupboard. The teacher makes sure all the doors are locked and the lights are off and joins us in the cupboard. We look the cupboard door, double lock actually. We were all looking through the props for weapons. We had like glass bottles and heavy equipment, I had my heavy ass bag that could kill someone if I threw it at them. My teacher kept insisting it was a drill, but we were all freaking out and so was she. At some point, someone even rattled the cupboard door, and we all freaked out even more.

When we were told we can finally come out, we found out that it was indeed a drill. It was not the real thing, thank God. By the time the drill ended, there was only five minutes left of lesson, so we all just packed up and left. Everyone else in our year was also freaking out about, talking about it nonstop and what not, so yeah.

What a way to end the half term, huh?

#me #school #alarm #Intruder alarm #Drill #Fun times #I don't think I'll ever forget this #It was certainly an experience #lol

[the-scottish-costume-guy]

I’ve seen multiple people genuinely asking whats wrong with playing their music on a speaker/their phone in public rather than through headphones. While it baffles me that you can’t reason it out I’m taking it in good faith that you genuinely don’t know - so here’s a list of reasons you shouldn’t:

- It sounds bad. It doesnt matter if people like the song, you might be close enough to your phone speaker for it to sound largely as intended, but everyone else is getting a distorted mess. 

- Unwanted noise is extra stimulation in the already overpowering public space. Yes this is particularly bad for neurodivergent people but I actually want to acknowledge that this effects Everyone. Everyone has a stimulation threshold and unwanted music easily pushes people closer to it.

- Its distracting/disruptive. People want to focus on their own conversations, listen to their own music through their earbuds, or just be alone with their thoughts. Your music is intruding. 

- Differing taste. This one is less significant but people around you just dont always like the same music you do. In extreme cases they might actively hate a song you’re playing. 

- People have the right to as close to silence as they can get. If they’re in a shop playing obnoxious music they can leave, they can change the radio in their car, they can skip the song on their playlist. They have no control over what you are putting on and in bus situations they can’t get away from you. 

- Any other number of reasons; Maybe your music is offensive, maybe its uncensored and there are children about, maybe someone just got horrible news and your perky feelgood song feels like salt in the wound, maybe someone’s sick or hungover or in pain and your music feels like a drill to the skull. 

You might think your music is good, it might make you smile after a hard day. Nobody is saying dont listen at all, just put in earphones. To everyone around you its the equivilent of a drunk guy singing loudly and off key at the back of the bus. Maybe it makes some people smile to think he’s having a good time, maybe some people are scared his lack of boundaries will mean he could act out, maybe some people wish he would just shut up. 

EDIT: I've turned off reblogs because we have a mix of people taking things in bad faith or others picking fights. This post isn't that deep lads.

#playing music in public #music #public places #public space #idk

[sonicman66]

It happened agaaaaaain

Dpxdc (mostly batman but y'all know the drill)

Danny reveal goes bad, as it sometimes does. Your decision if its a Permanent or Temporary bad result, but either way he takes off and ends up in Gotham. In the midst of getting himself settled (finalizing his new identity if he has one, pulling his emergency funds, etc.) he looks for a job, something that won't look Too Deeply into this malnourished teen with Iffy papers, no references, clearly not a local applying.

And finds work under one Oswald C. Cobblepot, who takes pity on the lad and gives him a job. Kid is either too young to mix drinks or doesn't know how, he's a bit too raggedy to be a waiter or a server, and pity doesn't mean he trusts the kid enough to let him do any of the important work, and the kid does not seem suitable for hench work. So he makes him the janitor.

The Bats catch word that Cobblepot has a new employee, and naturally they get curious, even if Penguin is on a legit streak or not, bc the new hire has obviously faked papers.

Meanwhile Penguin is happy as a clam. The new kid is great at his job, leaves the place lookin spotless, and doesn't ask any questions about suspicious stains or weird trash (besides 'where's the bleach' and 'is this hazmat or just garbage?')

Until one day, in the middle of his cleaning, Danny walks into a previously spotless room to find it slightly messed, with a shadowed figure hunching over a computer, clearly looking through files.

At this point i can't decide which way to take this is funnier.

A: Danny walks up and knocks the intruder unconscious. Calls his boss up and asks what the protocol is for a knocked out Batman in the records room.

B: Danny just huffs from the doorway. 'Dude. Seriously? I just cleaned this place.' The Bat doesn't startle, but Danny does find himself staring at the business of a batarang with Batman looming over him. Gets an impromptu interrogation like 'Why are you working for the Penguin?' 'Because he pays in cash, which i require for goods and services?' 'What do you know about his operations?' 'Jack shit, i'm a janitor.'

Or C: Batman stares at Danny. Danny stares at Batman. Danny scowls. 'I'm going to shut this door. When I come back in five minutes, this room better be as clean as it was before you came in. Got it?' Then steps out without waiting for a response. Heads out, calls Oswald and asks what the protocol is for encountering a Bat or Bird on the premises.

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dp x dc #nother silly little idea #ngl i just really like the idea of a janitor just being Annoyed at the bats for doing their shenanigans while they work

[clumsyghosts]

TW: School violence

Not going into much detail but we had lockdown for an hour and a half today before dismissing. Some of the staff got hurt trying to separate the fighters. Of course it was right outside the library.

I’m just... not really sure how to process this.

#I feel super bad for that one staff member who was tramuatized by our practice drill #then we had the real deal albeit not an active intruder #I was fine during the ordeal but now its like hmmmmmmmm #work

[bas-writes]

Neighboring Whispers

Character: Higuruma Hiromi Reader: female (cis) CW: explicit nsfw content, pre-relationship, neighbors next door, attraction at the first sight, mutual pinning, hair fetish, hair pulling, blowjob, fingers in mouth, spitting in mouth, praise kink & pet names (good girl and variations), fingering & vaginal sex, spanking, creampie, reader has long, non-curly hair and tattoos (yes, it's plot relevant) Word Count: 9k Synopsis: By a pressing accident you were left without water in your apartment, and you were forced to beg your neighbor, Higuruma, for letting you to take a shower in his bathroom. Dazed after a sleepless night, he obliged to your request. The consequences of his spontaneous decision had been haunting him ever since... A/N: little birds chirped @lale-txt wanted a sexy lawyer under her christmas tree and since we were already doing a server exchange... ;) merry a little late christmas, Lale, I hope you will enjoy this absolute monster of a one shot! ❤

The first ring was like an irritating fly, bouncing off the walls of his exhausted concentration, its dull buzzing drilling into his ears.

The second jolted him from head to toes, the first move in a prominently long time, aching and tingling in stiff joints and drowsy muscles.

The third finally made him peel eyes off the screen, his sight blurry and invisible sand grazing under his eyelids. 

Higuruma hid face behind the soothing shadow of his hands, plastered tight to his skin, and groaned, almost cursed. He was tired, so deadly tired he would swore he could feel the dark circles under his eyes. The dizziness was comparable to one after an unsuccessful power nap—yet, he knew he wasn't asleep even for a second. He couldn't, not when at work, at that damned work he swore he would touch only for an hour, two at the absolute maximum, and then go to bed, to finally grab proper rest for the rare free day to come. 

For how long was he stuck by the kitchen table, the place he had chosen to avoid the focus? Higuruma feared to peel hands off his eyes, but he still did so. The light, sipping through wide open blinds, was already bright and dazzling. The microwave clock was even more merciless: it showed a few minutes past eight.

Fuck.

The fourth ring was the longest, desperate and inappropriate for such an early hour. Under other circumstances Higuruma wouldn't welcome the intruder with open arms but at that moment he felt somewhat grateful for snapping him out of trance. 

"Coming." He announced, more to himself than to the person behind the door. Legs bent and swayed under him at first, he had to lean against the table for a moment, cursing his workaholism and age, but he forced himself to stand straight, then to walk. By the time he reached the door he was almost back to state befitting a man in his thirties, not a senior he got turned into by a sleepless, work-full night.

Higuruma didn't look through the peephole first, just opened, catching you already turning back. A whirl of long hair caught his attention faster than your face, not that it helped him much when he finally met it with his exhausted—yet still attentive—gaze. He could roughly pinpoint it as familiar but couldn't bring any name nor other particularly useful information to it. 

He knew you lived on the same floor. He knew you were often doing groceries in the same shop as him. He knew you both were sometimes taking the same train in the morning—but he had never caught which was your stop.

That's all.

"How can I help you, miss—" Higuruma's voice faltered; he was still trying to squeeze your name out of his memory, but his focus was already taking a different direction. There was something eerie about you, something concerning not as a danger for him but as a sign something must had happened, to you or to the whole surrounding. He wouldn't put it past himself to miss an emergency; when he was working, he could have easily overlooked a whole apocalypse. 

You were a mess. Possibly worse than his own. Uncombed hair, falling over your shoulders in tangled strands, greasy face, visibly home-only oversized tracksuit, blowzily thrown over your shoulders, a tote bag, overfull, squeezed tight to your chest… He wasn't a detective, but he could easily tell you left your place in a hurry.

"Y/N." You relieved Higuruma of his main concern. "I live at number 33."

You took a sharp turn, nodding to your door, but Higuruma's eyes barely followed, yet again swallowed by the sheer waterfall of your hair. 

"Alright, this is gonna be…awkward." You took a deep breath, as if adding yourself power to wade through whatever pressed on your soul. "Please. I beg. I need a shower."

"Pardon?" Higuruma almost choked on breath, shocked less by the sudden request, just rapidly pulled out of chaotic thoughts buzzing at the back of his head. Thoughts full of your hair and its flow, the suffocating and entrancing vortex. 

"I have no water." You nearly sobbed. "There's a renovation up there, I forgot… The whole plumb line is turned off on my side. I don't know when— Fuck, I have a meeting in three hours. I don't have time to run to a bathhouse, even if they would let me in…"

He must have made an exceptionally stupid expression because you stumbled out of your panicked trance and hurried to explain what he hadn't even deemed as needing any explanation. Hugging the tote with one arm, you rolled the sleeve of the other and revealed a tattoo running up the forearm towards the elbow.

He nodded with understanding.

 "Please, sir, no one else answers the door…" Your gaze flicked at him with such pleading that his already crumbling resolve immediately backed off, leaving him unarmed against you and your illegally beautiful hair. "I'll pay for the—"

"I charge only for legal advice, shower is a free service." Higuruma tried to squeeze a joke out of himself but with his exhausted expression he could as well recite a random sentence out of the case he was chewing through for the whole night. "First door to the left. Ah, and sorry for the…mess."

It was a massive overestimation, he realized a few of your steps into his apartment too late. His place needed a thorough tidying like fresh water. It wasn't dirty, at least that—but everything screamed "single, overworked, and too done to bother" at anyone who paid a minimum of attention. Dust, empty mugs and beer cans, takeout boxes piled into a temporary dumpster, any flat surface littered with books, files, loose notes, newspapers… Hey, he wasn't that bad usually, but you caught him in the worst moment, right before the day booked for being a responsible adult

Hell, he should have at the very least do something about his bathroom before he let you in. But you pounced at the door faster than his thought and he had to chew on his shame with the noise of his own shower filling the awkward silence around him. 

When was the last time someone barged into his life like this? The last relationship Higuruma could call a serious one had lasted before he finished his apprenticeship. With time slipping through his hands and wallet filling with money he had eventually stopped inviting his flings to his place. And in the past few years he had extinguished even this fragile flame that kept pushing him into love hotels with equally tired participants of seminars, coworkers, and random lays he had stumbled upon in bars and never bothered to remember their names. 

He couldn't see nor hear you, nothing over the hum of water, and yet, your presence was mercilessly crawling under his skin. He felt your breath at the back of his neck as he was tidying the space around in hurry. Maybe it wouldn't have been so palpable if you were a man… But a woman in his kingdom of the mid-thirty loneliness? Something about this fact cut a good half on his year count—and not to his advantage. He never pegged himself as shy nor crude to be bothered by a fact of a woman simply existing in his proximity, but…

It had been long, too long. And you were exactly in his type.

Exhaustion played a huge role at that, he was sure of it. Exhaustion paired with neglected libido and long-forgotten fetish perking their traitorous heads up at the slightest trace of your presence. You dropped something and shivers ran up his spine so hard he almost dropped his laptop too. A faint smell of fruity cosmetics reached his nose, and he couldn't remember anymore where he should put the papers he held. The hum of the shower finally stilled, and panic bubbled under his skin, cutting him short on sight and breath for a split second—split but long enough to mess with his balance.

You caught him like this, still bent over the table, at first glance nonchalantly checking something on the phone, in fact—fighting for the last scrap of dignity left in him. 

Higuruma observed you with the corner of his eye, tense like a string. It was easier to look at you now, with your hair meticulously tucked under a towel tied around your head, so he took that risk. Little did it help. The sight of you casually standing in the middle of his apartment, bare feet, damp shirt plastered to your sides, churned his insides with yearning that had nothing to do with lewd ideas. 

Yes, it definitely had been too long since he was touched with this level of intimacy.

"Sorry for the mess," he repeated himself, his voice feeling dry at his throat. 

Your laughter suited the sharp yet sweet scent of your shower gel, filling his apartment for hours to come, "I won't look a gift shower in the plumbing. Thank you, mister—"

"Higuruma," he quickly cut in before awkwardness managed to drag you into his misery.

"Higuruma," you repeated, mimicking his accent almost to perfection. 

He loved the way his last name rolled on your tongue. He loved it so much he had to turn away for a moment and bite on his own. Thoughts dancing in his head pressed too much to his lips. But he wasn't that much of a creep to let them do as they please. Just the fact they existed was putting him into embarrassment. 

Did you notice? Most likely not, too busy balancing on one foot to pull a sock, then shoe, on the other. With a tote tugged under your armpit and in a hurry, you clearly struggled, but Higuruma didn't move from his place, mindful of his sins and the situation overall. If you needed help, you would ask, until then it would be better, if he kept this distance. 

"I know you said no money but any chance I could return a favor in any other way?" You pulled him instead into conversation, much to the panic of his tongue, tying into clumsy knots at the slightest thought of speaking.

"It's nothing." Higuruma let the dream scenario fly over his head. He wasn't sure if you were flirting or just hated the idea of being in debt and in front of uncertainty, he preferred to stand his stubborn ground.

"You let a stranger use your shower." You didn't give up. You had the ball and you insisted on rolling it despite hurry pressing at your back, it seemed.

"My impossibly cluttered shower." Years in court made him more patient than a saint, even in front of a person crumbling his resolve into dust with a single flick of eyelashes. "I'd feel bad if I asked for something in exchange for such conditions."

"And what about me? I already feel bad for cluttering your space with myself."

"If I ever find myself without water, I'll know where to go."

You rolled your eyes and laughed again, your voice sharper this time. Higuruma wasn't especially sensitive with sounds but the change of yours immediately caught his attention and craved itself into his memory.

Oh, it was bad.

Dumbfounded, he didn't react when you pounced towards his abandoned workplace and snatched a piece of paper and a pen.

"I don't have much time left so—" You scribbled fast, digging deep into the surface, and yet clear enough for him to read with ease. "I'm a regular here. Come anytime and tell them Y/N sent you. The lunch is on me."

If not for the paper on the table and scent you left all over the apartment, Higuruma would classify you as a fever dream of an all-nighter the moment you sprinted out, apologizing and saying goodbyes all at the same time. He followed almost blindly, ready to shut the door as soon as you crossed the threshold (and cut you out before any weird new thought would haunt him). He already planned to air the whole place and scrub the bathroom out of your presence

He would, no hesitation, return to his cozy loneliness if not for a draft finally crushing the fragile construction on top of your head. Cascade of hair tore the knot apart, the towel slid down your shoulders straight into his hand as he reached for it without thinking twice and before it managed to untangle fully from the wet strands. They brushed his fingers, for a split time he felt their soft texture and weight, and his heart throbbed so hard he lost a good ounce of breath right there, over the threshold. 

"Sorry and thank you! Take care, Higuruma!" The door of your apartment clicked closed before the echo of your voice disappeared. He stood there even longer, pulse beating in his ears like a drum and his cheeks burning. It felt like hours before he finally forced himself back into his place, barricaded into illusive safety, hand pressed tight to his face, to muffle a loud groan.

His skin was still slightly wet and smelled of your shampoo.

Oh, he was so done for.

He should have trashed that note.

It glared at him right from where you had left it. Higuruma hadn't dared to move it any way, himself not sure why, but instead of blending into the environment, as he was hoping, it stood out like a huge, bloody stain of shame. A reminder of what he had been praying for to be just a dream born out of exhaustion and sleepless night.

He was doing his best to not look at it. It attracted his eyes like a magnet.

In no time he knew the name and address by heart. His excellent memory, so helpful in his career, became his curse. One look in note's direction and his mind was already mapping the route. Of course, it had to be conveniently located, in the area he knew well, relatively close to his workplace, in distance perfect for a lunch break.  

If only he trashed this piece of damned paper!

Maybe then his mind wouldn't be plagued with ideas and temptation. Maybe he wouldn't have to sneak in and out of his own apartment like a thief, jerking at the slightest sound behind his back. He was leaving earlier, returning later, changing routes and shopping in a different 7-Eleven. Everything to not run into you—just to return to your scent still somehow lingering in the air. 

Higuruma was ready to swear you had somehow cursed him. Was it humanly possible to influence his life with only showering in his bathroom? The sharp and fruity scent grew stronger near the cabin, shaped in his mind like a vortex of your hair. Warm water falling on his head felt like your laughter, droplets traced down his chest and stomach like signs you wrote on the note, elegant and pronounced. 

Your name tasted sweet and heavy on his tongue. Higuruma didn't dare to say it aloud, but it lingered, a sweet aftertaste of a candy he couldn't bring himself to ask for. He still tried to weigh it, right at the tip of his tongue, slick as a feel of your wet hair slipping through his fingertips. 

Only once, he tried to put it into life, but it barely danced at the edge of his teeth and died with a miserable groan as he couldn't hold himself back any longer and spent the rest of his morning shower on furiously fucking his fist.

He should have trashed— No, burnt this note and thrown the ashes in the wind.

By the time his legs finally carried him, still against his will, to the address, Higuruma had already abandoned the idea of avoiding the problem. He wasn't quite there with an ultimate decision, but the desperation reached the level where he had to simmer it down. Giving in to temptation of seeing you again was only a reasonable decision; with some luck he would not find you there and, with a now clean conscience, he would finally get rid of the paper of shame.

Seeing the signboard took him aback. Higuruma didn't ponder over the location to expect anything, but he still froze in place, hand clenched stupid at the handle as he took a step back to look at the name again. 

It sounded like one of those modern, instagram-catered places for a quick lunch in a break from rushing through the city. It was nowhere close to what, in fact, the place was: a cat cafe, in its whole camp and overfly fluffy glory. 

Higuruma looked at the signboard, then took a peek through the window again. A fat tabby cat, loafing on a table by the sill, peeked back at him and slowly blinked. He took it as an order.

One deeper breath later he finally entered. Right by the threshold he was attacked by the suffocating, sweet scent, dangerously reminding him of the cosmetics you used in his bathroom. Panic roared at the back of his head but before he could listen and withdraw, he grabbed eye contact with a barista who had perked her head over the coffee machine.

"Good afternoon, sir." She smiled at him, as full of enthusiasm as professionalism allowed. "A table in a regular room or in a cat—"

"I have received a capias issued for a certain gentleman I found resting in your property." He said dryly, maybe a little too much as the woman's friendly expression tensed into a mix of stress and confusion. "Just joking. I'm not arresting anyone. I had this place recommended by an acquaintance of mine."

When he said your name, she immediately smiled (not without a breath of relief, he noticed) and dropped the mask of a perfect employee. He was stared at curiously now, from the tips of leather shoes to neatly composed hairstyle. Oh, he definitely was the main subject of workplace gossip—and would jump back into fashion once he left this place, no doubt in this matter. 

"My apologies, sir, Y/N mentioned you would show up but hasn't notified us when." She flashed him with a genuine smile. "You're in luck, she's stopped for a lunch today, she's in the cat room right now. Shall I—"

"I'll find my way." Higuruma quickly cut in. He wouldn't mind adding spice to the gossip, even if just to ease his own stress, but…somehow, the thought of being observed during an inevitably awkward moment churned his stomach in a very not good way. "I would like—"

He studied the menu at the blackboard. Most of the names reminded him of absolutely nothing. "Something… decadent and viral, how kids call it. Surprise me, please."

"Would you like something to eat?"

"No, thank you."

He was ordered to strip from his jacket and scarf and asked to keep his briefcase as close as possible. Barista took her sweet time to study him as she walked him to the cat room, on her way explaining in detail what was allowed and what not. Higuruma let the words fly over his head: he had no interest in tormenting poor animals (who and for what would want to pull them by their tails?), but even if he had, his plans would be undeniably ruined by your presence. He already felt his throat clenching—not in fear or panic but in the same kind of embarrassment he felt whenever his thoughts about you slipped into the direction, he'd been avoiding at all costs. All of his thoughts were decent at that moment, yet he was tense and flushed regardless. Something, from the depths of his intuition, was whispering that, no matter what he does and says, he would reveal everything that happened, in his mind and not, since the day he had seen you barefoot and with wet hair in the middle of his apartment.

It would straight up make him come across as a creep.

He didn't want to come across as a creep.

"And no apprehensions." Barista finished her lecture with a smooth joke and pulled at the door to the cat paradise.

The main part of the cafe was calm—but the cat room was even calmer and silent, no music, none of the steady hum of working machines. It was almost empty too but a small group of teenage girls, flocking around the table by a huge cat tree, and you, of course, in a cozy corner, leaning over a book. Higuruma's heart almost flipped in his chest at the sight and fluttered just harder and faster when you pulled a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. The move was slow, smooth and so sensual one would think you were doing it deliberately. 

But you were lost in thought, unaware of your surroundings and Higuruma's gaze taking in the view voraciously, straight up swallowing every inch of yours. From your face, beautiful in your calm focus, to the tips of your fingers, still tangled in the strands behind your ear—and down your back, together with the flow of loosely tied hair. 

His mouth was dry and full of saliva at the same time. A smooth starter he had prepared in a case of wonderfully bad luck just died, leaving him with tight, uncomfortable silence and head empty of thoughts, full just of the feel of the same hair against his hand. 

He hoped too that seeing you in a more presentable state would crush the intimate, inappropriate for your level of familiarity, appearance of yours he had coded. And eventually relieve him of the yearning that had nothing and everything to do with sex, all at once.

Fool, idiot, a hundred times a naive kid. Seeing you like this only made everything worse.

"Y/N! Your neighbor with a sexy nose is finally here." The barista chirped over his shoulder and bolted before neither of you both could react.

If the block in his throat was difficult to swallow before, now Higuruma could as well just suffocate and die on point.

"Higuruma!" You tried to feign a cheerful attitude, but flustered expression and sudden flap of both hands betrayed you. One of them was still tangled in your hair; you yanked it free from the ponytail and sent your ornate hair clip flying. It fell right by his feet with a little metallic thud.

"You seem to lose your head at my sight." Higuruma saw the opportunity to avoid your gaze and snatched it so fast he almost hit his head against the table. "Or I should rather say: things from your head."

His hand trembled under the weight of the little trinket. It seemed alright except for three zirconias that fell out straight into his palm, "Towel at least took it better."

You muttered a simple thanks and took the hair clip before he climbed up from his knee. Your hands met for a split moment and a sharp shock snapped up and down Higuruma's spine. 

He hoped he managed to feign his calm better than you.

The silence that followed was heavy but not awkward for a change. Higuruma found himself a new excuse to look away, subtle and polite, just right to give you space for collecting thoughts: the decor of the cat room was truly entertaining to observe. Higuruma never had a cat; he was very pleased to notice that the furniture he took at first for clutter was in fact a developed playground. Little creatures, intrigued or concerned by the noise, moved from their spots. Shelves, ottomans and line bridges fluttered with elegant steps and soft tapping of little paws.

Even the fat tabby turned its head and gave Higuruma a look full of pity.

"It doesn't click right," you finally broke the much needed pause, pulling his attention back to you. "Oh well. I really liked it."

"It is a pity." He agreed, somehow keeping voice in check. The last thing he wanted was to suddenly screech at you. Fate knows how much his throat tried to, though. "It really suited your hair."

He didn't get a good look at it but after so many thoughts recalling your hair in detail, Higuruma could easily imagine it from every angle. His cheeks filled with traitorous, familiar heat. At least he wasn't prone to blushing.

By the gleam in your eyes, he could tell you were about to pick up the flirting, but you were interrupted by the barista. Looks were exchanged over his head, a slight tick at the corner of your lips betrayed their nature, but his attention was instead pulled by a piece of latte art put in front of him.

They really took his request to their hearts. Milk foam on top of his coffee was piled into a chubby cat face. They went as far as adding eyes, nose, whiskers and a little cunning smile. Three stripes at the top of its head must have been made with coffee as a paint. He had to admit the dedication to detail was truly endearing.

"Oh. That's surprising." You hummed, more to yourself, but continued louder prompted by his furrowing eyebrows. "You don't look like someone who would order a cute latte."

"Oh? And how do I look?"

"Black coffee. No sugar."

"I like it very sweet, actually." Higuruma finally felt more at ease, tension melting down his shoulders so visibly he could swear it was happening literally. "With a dash of milk."

The first few sentences were always the worst, in law and flirting alike. Once he got a good grip of the situation, he could finally focus on the exchange only. You were a cunning conversation partner, fast to catch his jokes, smooth to follow the thread and bounce the ball back at him. You had quite a gamut of shared topics and he just kept growing more interested—no, fascinated. 

Your mind and soul were fitting his type even more accurate than your appearance.

And yet, Higuruma's thoughts kept bouncing back to the fateful morning, to the perfection of your body in its messy glory. He couldn't help but to compare all the time. A strip of your tattoo peeked from under your sleeve—and he knew how far it, in fact, reached. A contour of your bra was visible under your shirt—in almost the same place where wet spots had pressed since you had dried yourself in a rush. Your hair fell smooth over your shoulders, in heavy strands he was dying for to caress—because he remembered the sensation of their ends touching his skin. 

Over and over again, his flesh was taking over his mind. And it was…infuriating.

When something touched his calf, Higuruma nearly jolted. He managed to forget a little how tense he still was, illusion destroyed fast by a friendly tail, wrapping around his leg. 

The indifferent stare and chunky posture were already familiar.

"Oh, someone likes you." You cooed with a bright smile. "It's rare for Haru to come to a new client."

"She's being picky?" The lawyer leaned down, let the curious cat sniff his fingers before he gently caressed its head.

"He. He's a little fussy diva. Wait, maybe I'll encourage him a little—" 

You leaned to the side and behind to reach for a toy, move quite fast, and your hair repeated the vortex he had seen even before he had taken a look at your face. The almost painful churning in Higuruma's stomach rushed dangerously low; he coughed into fist to give a reason for leaning forwards. Haru snapped his head back at the noise, but instead of running away he leaped into the lawyer's lap, fitting tight the space between his torso and thighs. And successfully hiding the area that could become problematic at any moment.

"Thanks, buddy," Higuruma whispered and scratched him behind the ear.

"He really likes you." You laughed, by no means offended for your sneaky plan to fail before it had started. "You're so natural with cats."

"It's only one of my talents." He flicked his gaze at you, his hand resting full on the cat's head, deliberately swept along the line of its spine. "Been always told I'm good with my hands."

The risk was exceptionally calculated, even for him. But it paid off with sparks of interest flickering in your eyes and fast, so easy to miss, bite at the side of your bottom lip.

The note had been replaced by a hair clip.

Higuruma hadn't even thought twice when he had sprinted out of work straight to a jeweler. His mind and soul had been in a different place, entranced by your number freshly saved on his phone, and hadn't perked up even at the significant amount of money he had spent on a golden clip. 

The coincidence had been too good to be just a wink of fate: the design was almost identical to your old one.

Complications had appeared after he had come back and grabbed much deserved sleep. Fresh brain had pushed the old scruples back to the surface, and the would-be gift had ended on the kitchen table, leering at Higuruma as he was sneaking by, in shame and trying to look away.

Since the cat cafe date, you had met at least five times. All meetings had been rather non-committal and platonic, and the closest he got to fulfilling his fantasies had been a gentle kiss on his cheek he had earned after a movie. Yet, Higuruma knew there was a prominent spark of interest on your side. So far you had answered all of his advances with eagerness if not straight forward had been playing with him as if he was a cat on the other end of a teasing wand.

He was still feeling ashamed of himself but didn't intend to let such an opportunity slip through his hands. All he needed was that last step…but he couldn't quite grow spine to finally make it.

So the hair clip kept glaring at him, and he kept ignoring it, as much as he could at least before he was caving in to all those temptations leading him to late night shower fantasies.

By the time he heard you ringing to his door he even managed to forget about it a little. Well, he was deep in work again, his mind finally free of all red-hot thoughts and quandaries—until said sound pierced him like a stray bullet. He knew immediately it was you; he couldn't explain why and how but he knew. The rush of blood thudding in his ears for once had nothing to do with anxiety—this time it was a genuine excitement, hope even, if he dared to somewhat name the vortex of his thoughts. This was but just a little change; it meant nothing for heat building in his cheek nor for trembling of hands he barely tamed on his way to the door.

Before he opened, he had to take a deep, hopefully calming breath.

"This is gonna be awkward again." You admitted with a shy smile. "There's no heating at my place. And no warm water. "

Your appearance was a stunning middle ground between the scrupulously crafted look you donned for your little dates and the casual home-only mess Higuruma had learnt the day you got to talk for the first time. You were still dressed neatly but disarray had already sneaked with crumpled fabric, rolled up sleeves and the mess of your hair, barely tamed with a hair band. 

A loose strand fell out of it, and you tugged it behind your ear, with the same smooth, sensual move he had learnt by heart. Higuruma swallowed, a bit too audibly for his comfort.

"I can offer warm tea and warm company," he moved to the side and gestured towards the apartment. At least this time the mess was more tamed; since he had been caught red-handed, he paid more attention to the state of his surroundings. 

It couldn't possibly be a more obvious excuse, but Higuruma's thoughts were speeding too fast to do something more than taking a mental note. He intended to guide you towards the living room, but you took your guest rights to the fullest and chose a seat by the table in the kitchen from where you were piercing him with a curious gaze. In a calmer state Higuruma would pay more attention and take note how strategic your move was—but he was too busy masking his stress by preparing the tea and snacks. Before the doorbell, at least a shadow of the hair clip had existed at the back of his head. Now the whole trace was gone, replaced by all his dreams and worries packed into a single vortex of inner and somewhat controlled panic.

Why was he so nervous? He had no reason to delve into his thoughts anymore. All that was left was one of you finally tugging the rope to their side. You were right there, behind his back, twisting a strand of your hair around your finger, legs crossed just right to roll your dress up your thighs a little. Part of him was itching to turn and pull you into his arms, to bury his face into the back of your neck, to trace your tattoos and check how far they really reach. The other kept spraying the horny demon in him with cold water—and by far winning at that time.

If only you gave him a little more prominent sign…

"A hair clip?" As if reading his mind, you sprung forwards. "It looks like mine… Where did you get it?"

Higuruma almost dropped the cups with tea.

"Oh. That." He had never been blessed his experience with stress-taming than he did now. He needed only a single breath to look presentable again. "Well… Now it's my turn at the awkward merry-go-round. Was supposed to be a gift."

He set your cup in front of you, his hand almost free of trembling. Your gaze grazed over it for a second before it flicked back to the accessory, by "chance" placed right within your sight but out of reach, "Gift?"

"Replacement for the one I broke." Higuruma had no choice but to grab it himself and offer it to you on open palm. "I plead guilty and have already paid a fine."

You said nothing but he could read from your face his choice was simply perfect. You gently traced its edge, almost took it, but at the last time you withdrew, your eyes full of sultry gleam. "Thank you. It's so pretty. But you shouldn't have—"

"Oh, I should. And I loved it." Higuruma already knew where it was going. He felt sweat pearling at his temples, a single droplet traced down the side of his face. "It's but a pleasure to offer beautiful things to a beautiful woman."

You traced the clip again, with more prominent pressure this time, such a perfectly feigned hesitation. 

"Then…" Your gaze wandered up and locked with his. "Would you like to clip it in?"

Higuruma's knees nearly gave up under him when you, no longer waiting for his answer, let your hair flow free. With a single shake of your head, you spilled it all over your shoulders for him to gather it again, smile dancing at the corners of your lips a shameless proof you knew exactly what you were doing. 

Were his thoughts that obvious? Were his sinful dreams written all over his face? Was he being pulled into a trap from the very beginning? 

As if entranced, Higuruma approached you from behind. Even with explicit permission he was more than gentle when he caressed your hair from the crown of your head to its tips. It was smooth like velvet, far more than he had imagined it to be after the brief contact. 

The flame inside him churned and roared, pulse thudding in his ears muffled down all the other sounds. Hands shaking, he started gathering your hair to the back, into a single, thick thread he tried to hold firmly for the clip. He feared to tug too much; if he slipped once, he knew he wouldn't stop, the loose yet so heavy knot around his fingers just waiting to be tightened.

In the wildest fantasies flowing through his dreams Higuruma hadn't considered it to feel so good, almost too good to be real.

He couldn't hold it for longer, he let go, watched your hair spill again in awe, his throat dry and clenched. Threading fingers through it, he reached deeper, brushing at your scalp, and noting, pleased, a low, purr-like sound you made. Entrancing smoothness pulled him yet again, though, and he combed the strands to their tips, and returned to the crown of your head, over and over and one more time, and more—

"You don't have to be so gentle," you hummed, arching into his touch with no trace of shame. "I quite like it pulled."

Higuruma swallowed the hook together with the rod.

He gathered your hair into his fist, wrapped it around, and slowly—but with prominent power—pulled your head to the side, exposing your neck to himself. You mewled, following the move without further encouragement, giving him better access in the most arched, sweetest way possible. He leaned closer, his lips an inch away from your skin as he soaked in the familiar, sweet, intimate scent. The choice between possible routes was hard but eventually he settled on the most shameless one. He kissed your ear, brushed his lips right under it, and dived straight into the source of the fire burning him through all this time, through weeks that felt like ages. 

The softness of your hair was even more intoxicating when Higuruma felt it against his face. The first tasting nudge found your approval, so he went for a shaky, almost desperate breath of your scent, so rich and so throughout yours. It was a sin to abandon it, but he knew he had to discover more—or else the doors to the forbidden garden might push him away and shut closed. Shaking and almost sobbing in immense pleasure and happiness, the lawyer trailed his kisses back to your neck, then down to the curve of your shoulder until he felt the seam of your dress under his lips. 

"Hiromi…" You pleaded in whisper, for the first time calling him by his name. "Kiss me…"

Hand still tight in your hair, Higuruma tilted your head stronger to the side and leaned over your shoulder. Your noses brushed awkwardly before he finally found your lips. He expected it to be slow, just a little peck for a starter, but you apparently just waited for it. You grabbed him by the tie and pulled, your tongue slipping into his mouth without a warning nor hesitation. He let you take the lead at first but soon your advances weren't quite enough for his voracity, and he answered you with even greater eagerness.

It was his first kiss in so long and one of the very few so intense. You were barely stopping for a breath, one immediately pulling the other back when it halted. Higuruma's head was spinning, from lack of air and overflow of emotions. His heart was beating so fast that he danced on the line of fainting right in front of you, no wonder you guided him as you liked despite his hand clenched in your hair and kisses swallowing your breath.

You stood up and pushed him against the table, finally giving the both of you much deserved break and freeing each other of the tight clutch of your hands. 

"Lemme," you nipped at his ear shortly after. 

Gasping for air, Higuruma watched your advances with fascination. You unbuttoned his shirt with a casual knack and pawed at his hairy chest, trailing down the dark line towards the hem of his pants. Part of him was relieved to have his hard, almost painful, erection finally freed—the other dusted his cheeks with embarrassment. So fast and so easily… He wasn't a teenager anymore, his desperation was almost shameful.

Little did you care, almost shaking yourself when you fell to your knees and peeled his pants and underwear out of your way. You licked your lips at the sight of his hard, throbbing cock, and wrapped fingers around it. A few testing strokes later, you brushed a droplet of precum off his tip with a thumb, then leaned for a little, almost cute kiss.

"Shit…" Higuruma muttered through clenched teeth. For once forgetting about your hair, he held on to the table for his dear life and focused on not cumming right on spot. Unaware of his fight, you continued with teasing kisses and kitty licks towards the base. With the tip of your tongue teasing the sensitive skin of his balls you almost sent him flying; to stop orgasm from coming he bit his lip so hard he almost cut it to blood.

"So full…" You cooed, unawares of his struggle. Higuruma didn't dare to look at you—a futile effort as he could easily imagine what you were doing just by the feel of your lips and tongue at work.

"It's been… A while— Fuck!" As if it would help him if he held his breath and closed his eyes. Your mouth was so wet and hot and sucked him off with such fervor he was ready to beg you to slow down. It was illegal for a simple blowjob to feel so good; was it your skill or his desperation, all of it mixed with the tension building up relentlessly through the last few weeks—it didn't matter. Various thoughts were speeding through his mind, but he quite literally had no power to process them. 

Higuruma mewled your name, a pitiful whimpering sound that clenched his chest with almost painful embarrassment. He felt your approving hum vibrating around his cock as you slid him into your throat, until you reached a depth comfortable for you, and started bobbing your head along his length. His imagination reached its peak of capability, drowned into comfortable darkness he desperately tried to enforce on his poor, tortured brain. So slick and hot, so tight when you hollowed your cheeks and sucked, balancing right on the thin line between ineffable pleasure and discomfort.

You were on a mission to suck him dry—and he had no power (nor desire) to oppose you.

Yet, with the tension relentlessly building and nearing its peak, Higuruma put every ounce of his might left and peeled one hand off the table to immediately tangle it in your hair. You chirped, pleased, around his cock, clearly expecting a pull towards—not backwards. Eyes wide open and dark with desire, you gazed at him with upper confusion. You didn't even close your lips, a string of saliva still connected them with the tip of his dick.

"N-not like that…" The lawyer managed to choke out between desperate draughts for air. "I want—"

Thank goodness you read his mind like an open book. Otherwise, he would stutter there to the kingdom come and back, like a dazed idiot he was.

"Bed?" You nuzzled your head into his palm. The temptation to pull grew stronger again, so strong that Higuruma's cock twitched just at the thought. He quickly withdrew, brushed his fingers down your face to wipe saliva off your lips and chin. At the desired level he hesitated—and brushed a little string of drool back into your mouth and deeper. If you were surprised, you hadn't showed it, instead opening wider for him and swirling your sinful tongue around his digits.

A wild idea crossed his mind, a kink he had tried with one of his past partners but hadn't quite brought it back until now as he was fucking your mouth with his fingers and staring at your drool pooling inside and dripping down your chin, first droplets falling on the front of your dress. He didn't dare to say it but a move, expression or the whole situation must have betrayed him yet again. 

You pierced him with an understanding gaze and nodded.

Higuruma slowly withdrew his fingers and grabbed your chin, soon tilting your head back. With his throat so dry it took him quite a moment to gather enough drool, but you waited oh so patiently, your eyes closed and your hair flowing down your head with the heave of your heavy breathing. 

He leaned down and let his spit slowly drip down from the tip of his tongue, straight into your wide open, waiting mouth. Your whole body trembled and a little mewl broke through your lips as you let it slide down your throat.

"Such a good girl…" The guttural, heavy with desire voice that got out of his throat surprised even him. "Swallowing everything for me…"

He did it two more times before he couldn't find more spit to share. Instead, he returned to torture you with his fingers, playing with your tongue and testing how far he can reach before you gag around them. With great pleasure he was surprised to not find this moment despite trying really hard.

"If you're gonna torture me like this—" You warned with an impish gleam in your eyes as soon as he gave you a break. "—I won't hold it for longer and make you cum with my mouth."

Higuruma leaned against the table and cooled his head down with a few deep breaths.

"Bed," he agreed with the unanswered question of yours and helped you get up.

Yet again you took the lead and straight up herded him to his bedroom. When and how you figured which was the right door, he had no idea, but he also didn't ponder over this fact too much, too busy with not tripping while kicking his pants out of the way. You both fumbled at the threshold, tangled in clothes you desperately tried to get rid of while kissing each other blindly, until the lawyer finally found an upper hand and pushed you inside and then on top of the bed. 

You started rolling the dress up, but Higuruma shoved your hand out of the way and reached beneath you for the zipper. It gave up so easily he worried for a moment he broke something, but you just graciously wiggled out, freeing your shoulders and breasts. The sight messed with his momentum, a heavy lump stuck at his throat, and he had to close eyes for a moment to not cum on the spot.

You finished rolling your dress down your hips and snapped your legs open with great impatience, "What, have you changed your mind?"

Higuruma cursed under breath, wiped his face with both hands—and immediately dove for it much like a bird of prey. Avoiding the temptation of your hair at all costs, he focused on your tattoos instead, tracing them with his tongue and kissing. He had no idea you had so many of them, in so many interesting places he was dying to explore and to cover with hungry hickeys. 

But he was also aware of the burning hard problem below his waist, so he didn't waste a droplet of time. He reached straight between your legs, hummed at the feel of soft bush brushing against his fingers and spread your labia open.

"So wet for me, baby girl?" He breathed against one of your nipples before sucking on it with fervor. 

A needy mewl was your answer as you bucked your hips, trying to steal friction from his palm. He didn't hesitate from giving you all you wanted, two fingers sliding into you at once. Just the squelching tight sensation was enough for a wave of pleasure to crush against him; with a whimper Higuruma thrusted dry against your side, staining your skin with precum.

"Fuck, you're so sexy…" His voice was breaking with desperation, but he kept a reasonable pace with stretching you. Your tightness was so hot and intoxicating, but he worried he could hurt you if he hurried the matters too much. If he made a mess and embarrassment out of himself because of it, he would take it, as long as you hadn't felt any unwanted pain. 

You read him right yet again and grabbed him by wrist, "I'm ready."

His next move hadn't met the same patience as you whined when he left you on the bed to look for condoms in the drawer.

"It's okay, I'm on pills." You pulled him back by the hem of his shirt and slid it away a moment later, leaving him completely naked. 

Clawing at his shoulders you kept nudging him until he was back in his place, teeth grazing at your neck. You fumbled in sheets warming each other up and experimenting for the last time before the main event, both of you growing impatient beyond tolerance. 

"How do you want it?" Higuruma rasped into your ear and bit at its shell. His cock throbbed with warning at the sweet mewl of yours; he knew he wouldn't last much longer if he kept edging himself.

"You can be rough," you whined without a hesitation as he pushed himself on top of you again. "I'll just tell you to stop, if needed. And hair—"

"Got you."

He pressed a quick kiss to your lips and gave you space to roll on your stomach and climb on your knees. He tried to not stare too much, just a glimpse of your ass arching for him, your hips swaying with invitation, put his blood pressure to alarming limits. Lining himself up at the best angle he could find, Higuruma kneeled between your legs and kneaded your cheeks. He loved how his fingers dipped into your soft flesh, but he didn't quite have enough time to appreciate everything you had to offer.

"Hair," you reminded him, looking over your shoulder at him with such heat in your eyes that a harsh shiver ran down his spine.

"I got you, my sweet girl." Higuruma leaned over your back and kissed the nape of your neck before taking a fist full of your hair. He hadn't pulled on it just yet, waited for the perfect moment when his cock slid into you and nestled comfy between your slick, tight walls.

He needed a break again, an inch away from an early finish. He kept the fire simmering by peppering you with bites and kisses, the grip on your hair kept satisfyingly strained until he felt he could move freely. 

A single deep and shaky breath later Higuruma finally rose straight to his knees, pulling you with himself until you arched your back and mewled. A tinge of pain was audible in your voice, but your cunt fluttered around his cock, and you hadn't said anything, so he followed with the plan, trusting your words from a moment earlier.

"F-fuck…" He muttered as he bottomed out, hips pressed flush to your ass. "Such a good girl you are…"

You stated your limits clearly, but Higuruma didn't want to test his luck. The grip on your hair was more than enough to satisfy his wilder side—and still he refrained from yanking your head too much. Just enough to have your back tense like a string as you were taking each one of his deep, desperate thrusts. More out of curiosity than anything he smacked your ass with a juicy slap, the sight of your body rippling from the impact so powerful he had to slow down and wait through another dangerous close call.

"Hi… ro…" You struggled to call for him, one hand clawing at sheets, the other between your legs as you played with your clit. He clenched his teeth and spanked you again. You responded with loud and enthusiastic moans, the best music he heard in a long, long while.

The finish was really close. Higuruma's hand clenched hard on your hip, maybe even bruising you in process, but then his focus narrowed to your union only and its unbearably hot, slick sensation that kept swallowing him. All he needed was your high first; he didn't want to go there without satisfying you at least this much. Your sweet sounds and trembling body were giving him good guidance—and he kept repeating what he was doing until the tight knot in your abdomen finally snapped and you spasmed in his hold, the tight clench of your pussy sparking friction almost too intense for him.

It didn't take long for him to finish too; a few erratic thrusts later he spilled his seed deep in you and collapsed on top of you, pressing you tight to the mattress.

Catching on breath, almost blind from exertion, Higuruma kissed your neck right under the hairline and buried his nose at the back of your head. You didn't make any sound under him, and he worried he might have pressed you too hard—but as soon as he shifted his weight to side, you budged and protested with a weak mewl.

"Stay." You reached behind and threaded fingers through his hair. He shivered under the gentle touch, almost literally melting when you kept scratching at his scalp and playing with his sweaty strands. 

"I'm staying," he promised and nuzzled close, flush against your back, cock still nestled deep in you. Frankly, even if he wanted, he didn't have much power left, just enough to roll to the side and collapse there for good. But he loved the intimacy of this moment even more than sex before, the warmth of your body, the rhythm of your pulse, the smell of your sweat covering your skin with a thin, sticky layer.

"Fuck, I think we need a shower." He mumbled to himself and chuckled, sure you had snoozed in his arms, but you answered the laughter and reached for his hand.

Higuruma gladly intertwined fingers with yours.

"I'd love to see your shower again." You kissed his knuckles, a smile pressed to your lips. 

#higuruma x reader #higuruma hiromi x reader #higuruma x you #higuruma hiromi x you #higuruma x y/n #higuruma hiromi x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk #higuruma hiromi #female reader #bas writes #sinful

[hana-no-seiiki]

this is prolly the only fem! reader i’m ever writing with batfam in this blog. enjoy.

(implicit) yandere batfam x dommy mommy! reader

— in which these men realize you were far more than just an assistant

Galas were fun at times. But when forced to attend such repetitive events in addition to their vigilante work — well it was safe to say, it was not boding well for their sanity.

You worked as a general assistant for the BatFamily. As Alfred’s daughter, you endeavored to ease your father and his employers’s lives. You were a sweetheart. An absolute angel. The loveliest lady to ever exist.

Until you were pushed past the brink of your limits, stress wise, of course.

The whole Jason coming back from the dead and Bruce being dead took a massive blow to your sleep schedule. The boys took it as an opportunity to blur the lines between work and personal life. Slowly inserting themselves into your day to day outside of what you tirelessly scheduled for them.

So when a villain managed to break into the Batcave while you were there all on your lonesome (took a while for you to schedule every single one of them so that they’d be too busy to bother you), you didn’t take it all too kindly.

By the time the boys got back home, they were only privy to the following things

(1) You were a lot stronger than what you appeared to be. If the footage of you absolutely decimating the man wasn’t already a sure sign there was also the fact that you managed to somehow replicate a lot of the moves the boys would learn during training. Must have been something Alfred drilled into you as extra measure.

(2) You were a lot more menacing and sadistic when stressed.

The intruder looked at you with pleading eyes. His face black and blue. Could you blame yourself? You only had one night of peace and this man ruined it.

You sighed. He seemed to be incapacitated enough. Pulling out the chair to the iconic Batcomputer, you took a seat and pondered.

Bruce gave you access to all the alcohol you would need to ease the stresses of life. Might as well you shrugged.

You slowly took off the stockings Dick gifted you a while back. It was a prototype of his merch he said. You knew it was just because he really wanted to see you in fishnets. Then, you used the tip of your toe to raise the intruder’s head to face you.

You paused for a moment, remembering how Tim would often look through the cameras old footage on his free time. His overworking and stalking habits are really be something you work on.

The thought of him seeing the way you act momentarily froze you.

But the alcohol in your system begged to differ.

“Make it up to me, and I’ll let you go.”

Eh, you’ll deal with Tim and Damian scolding you for your unhealthy habits later. And your dad’s sermons on professional behavior.

And whatever mess Jason makes you clean up for the night too.

The boys watched the footage with bated breath and tighter pants at your actions. This was a side they’ve never expected from you.

You poured a drink of your choice down your thighs and legs. The liquid slowly dripped down the skin of your calves and ankles before it reached the tip of your toe.

“What kind of an assistant would I be if I didn’t give a guest a drink?”

And (3)

They would kill to be that man.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagine #yandere fic #yandere core #batfam #batfamily #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #bruce wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne x reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere headcannons #yandere writing #yandere tim drake x reader #yandere dick grayson x reader #yandere damian wayne #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader

[star-suh]

A New "Friendship" has Born

Kim Mingyu x Male Reader

cw: idol au, top mingyu, reader is in an idol group, size difference kink, manhandling, full nelson, fingering, strength kink, semi-public sex, cum swallowing, gaping hole, rimjob.

an: i'm struggling with titles 😭

—

during the whole award show some kind of a strong sexual tension could be felt between yn and mingyu, stares between them. the groups they belong to, sitting just a few seats apart. when mingyu performed yn was stupefied seeing his huge, muscular arms and how his chest bounced every time he jumped ‘he's so tall and big.. fuck’ thought yn biting his lips to prevent a moan to come out of them.

then it was time for yn's group to perform and it didn't go unnoticed by mingyu, every time yn looked directly at the camera, mingyu got excited, seeing the sweat drops falling down his face and his little frame… so perfect to snake his arms around him and fuck him dumb, thought mingyu.

“hey.. you're performance was awesome” mingyu complimented the smaller one, “oh thank you thank you” a flustered yn responded “yours was perfect too, mingyu extended his hand “nice to meet you mingyu”, yn also extended his hand to shake mingyu's, the latter realizing that his was much bigger than yn's further increasing his desire to take him right there and wreck his ass in front of everyone, “nice to meet you too i'm yn”, making eye contact after saying that.

all of a sudden they were in the bathroom, with mingyu's fat cock drilling into yn's ass, his eyes rolling feeling the stretch caused by it while mingyu covered his mouth with his hand so no one can hear him moan “so fucking tight” murmured mingyu, “shit i can't with this.. you're so big” cried yn, tears falling down his cheeks. “already begging me to stop but i'm not even halfway in, c'mon you can handle it all” with a last thrust all his cock was now buried inside the other, balls deep “you looked so hot on stage and so sexy that my cock got hard for it… now take responsibility” mingyu groaned starting to thrust like a beast not stopping until that hole is gaping and full of his seed.

mingyu stopped his thrust when the door opened, someone had entered the bathroom so they couldn't make noise, however, yn felt the other's cock growing even more inside him. a tiny muffled moan escaped the bottom's mouth but it seems than the other person didn't hear it and left the bathroom right away. “you were gripping my dick so hard i almost came. something tells me you like the idea of being caught, right?”. yn shook his head in a no motion, but mingyu grabbed him by the legs and left the bathroom, carrying him still with his cock inside the other's ass. "what the hell are you doing, they're going to see us here?" a worried yn cried and tried to free himself from the other's grip. "that's the idea” laughed the tallest.

the next half hour mingyu fucked yn in a full nelson alterning between his cock and his fingers to insert in the already gaped hole “it's too much” moaned the small one.

“pretty little sluts like you can take this and more so stop being annoying”, growls and degrading words escape mingyu's mouth due to the pleasure that yn's hole gave him. mingyu then puts down yn on the counter and fold him to appreciate the messy masterpiece he made, yn's gaping hole clenching on nothing “look is asking for more cock” mingyu mocks spitting on it “but i'm gonna give it more than that”. yn found himself moaning feeling the intruding tongue exploring his insides and covering them with saliva. “oh my god… this is so fucking good” screamed yn, at this point he doesn't care if anyone caught them he just wants mingyu to ruin him even more.

in the next minutes mingyu's tongue and cock were abusing yn's hole, eating him out during some seconds and then resuming the fucking “the mix of your juices and my cock's taste so delicious ynnie, i can't stop sucking this perfect ass” he says slapping it right after.

“fuck i'm gonna cum where do you want it?” mentions mingyu, his thrusts getting sloppier. “inside please put it sll inside meee” begged yn “i promise i'm not gonna waste any drop” his words going straight to mingyu's meat. “woah are you that desperate for my cum?” he laughs “then take it cumwhore” with one last powerful thrust he filled yn up with his load.

yn felt so full with the big piece of meat inside him throbbing while spurting the thick cum, “yeah there you go” growled mingyu letting himself fall on top if yn trying to regain forces “that was hot.. you're so hot” the taller sighed then laughing along with yn who replied “you're hotter”...

since that day a very strong friendship was born between both idols.

#kim mingyu x male reader #mingyu x male reader #mingyu x male reader smut #kim mingyu x male reader smut #mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #smut #male reader smut

[qvrcll]

Hello :) I saw you are tking requests and I have something on my mind for a quite some time...If you maybe could write Leon Kennedy ID x younger (like in her early 20s) girlfriend reader where they are making love and chris walk on them. But if you dont want to write it you dont need to so feel no pressure. have a nice day :)

rosemary

summary: whilst you and leon share skin to skin contact in the fervent heat of your bedroom, a gentle intrusion seems to knocks things out of prospect. still, does it have to be so complicated?

warnings: female reader, ID ! leon, nsfw under the cut, getting walked in on EL OH EL, fluff if you squint i swear

a/n: hi lovely thank u for the request!! i had a great time writing this and i hope you enjoy :-)

Leon was 180 centimetres of hard, breathing flesh — that, put up against you in such a compromising position as this, made things all too complicated. Brooding, in a sense that make things sweat, heave with pounding release.

Of course, he never played the fair game, however many times he swore he would.

He’s got you folded in half already, quivering cunt spurting a heat so delicious, it sinks him in like a vice when he gives into it. His hands, dangerous aviaries that hold every part of you in place, scavenge across your body like he has never seen you like this before. Never had you quite this deep, this desperate and thrashing before.

But he has, and he knows it all too fucking well.

“Like it when I do that, hm?” he spits out, throat abused by the abundant swell of groans and other string of pathetic noises that leave him. Still, he’s zeroed in on you only — the way you croon against him like a helpless little thing, bundled up beneath him in a mess of nerves, an assortment of pleas, pitching high from “r-right there!” and “m-mhm… just—like that…”

He’s learnt it all — your noises, twitches. The sensitive grip of skin underneath your thigh that leaves you breathless and moaning. Two, three, four slick fingers intruding your cunt, leaving you sore and satisfied the next day. He’s made love to you, and this only seems it, that familiar beckoning gush of your walls pressing against his cock like it had so many other times before.

And it’s barely coordinated, when your hand sinks lower, between the fervent slaps of either of your bodies in a distorted rhythm, seeking to pay attention to the awful throb of your clit and you mewl when his own hands quickly supersede yours in quick fashion. They’re larger, cover more space and bear more weight beneath the flesh, when he grants you some mercy by slathering any wetness against your clit and doing the work for you.

Aw, how sweet of you, Kennedy.

Is what you would have uttered. Smirked with a superlative sense of ungratefulness, if he wasn’t aiming to drill another hole into you.

“Fuck—“ he curses above you, and it all falls out of rhythm. A delicious combination of all your senses. A sign of your impending release.

You remember the gruelling trip back in his car.

You remember the awful coldness of the elevator as he pressed you against the familiar glint of it, mouth all full of the taste you and a raging sense of impatience.

You remember tripping into his room, already bare. Already responding to his cut-throat presses and licks in seconds.

“You close, sweetheart?” He calls you. But for you, it’s a reminder, that you are still here, underneath him. Writhing, thrashing, but with him nonetheless. Heated and throbbing, but fingers interlocked with his in ceremonious fashion. And the thought makes you smile, sloppy and twitching, through the lewdness of the thick air.

And you can do nothing except claw at him, use him as a living, breathing grounding machine. Can do nothing but hold him so desperately as you break, count the wrinkles against his forehead as he pushes into you again. Await the swift hit of release as you choke out, “Y-Yeah… I—I’m… close… mnng—“

“Leon? You in here?”

The additional voice is distant, airy almost. You almost wonder if you’d imagined it, sorted it out of nothing from your deeply calibrated mess of a brain.

The sex must’ve driven me mad, you think. Almost laugh, but don’t, as light hits your eyes.

And that familiar coil in your tummy dampens, aches, is reduced to ashes as Leon scrambles for the blanket with a large scoff, wraps you gently with it and shields your body against his — the heat of your sweat and the lathering material from the blanket does more to irritate you, but it would do, when Chris himself was standing calcified and struck dumb with confusion in the arch of your doorway.

So much for locking the door.

“Chris, get out!” Leon yells, sifts for his shirt. Cards the floor for his pants and undergarments. He’s almost fully dressed as Chris grumbles out an apology, staggering out of the room with a limp you didn’t recognise he had ever worn before.

And you’re moth-eaten, hot, underneath the covers. Some part of you is mortified, but the larger part is aching for relief. Your legs are tense with the course of your muscles and sweat coats you in a messy sheen. But the ache between your legs is stagnant, mulling in sick waters like a beaten soldier.

“Sweetheart?”

It takes you a few counted minutes to realise your current predicament — Chris had seen the two of you in bed by pure accident, and with the last shred of consciousness you possess, you burst with colour. Still, Leon’s voice is molten. Electric. It sends sparks flying and frothing at your skin, as his arm skirts over yours in that familiar fashion — a silent kiss inked into your skin by touch alone, a low voice muttering ‘It’s alright. It’s okay.’

And he smiles, wide and large, smile lines soothing the ache and bringing you to be. You’re almost relieved, almost rid of that throe in you, sex nearly forgotten until he speaks again,

“Don’t touch yourself until I’m back. You can do that, can’t you? Hm?”

And as he leaves, smirking, you swiftly melt into the suffocating creases of your shared bed, charged up all over again.

© 2023 qvrcll ! do not repost any of my works on any platform.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #infinite darkness leon x reader #leon drabble #resident evil x reader #resident evil fanfic #requests

[hoshigray]

no thoughts, just toji spitting in your mouth 🫦

You're so dirty, noonie.......I'm in. *maniacal laugh* I can see it coming out of the blue like the idea hits him while you two are doing it, and he's like, "Hmm, why not?" Hope you enjoy this! Cw: dom! Toji x reader - explicit content, so minors DNI!! - gn terms to describe reader - mating press - making out - Daddy kink - spitting in the reader's mouth (obvi) - pet names (angel, baby, darlin') - praise - overstimulation if you squint. Wc: 641

"Hnnngh, shit, shit, shit," Toji hisses above you, sweat drenching his raven bangs to stick on his forehead. He comes down to your face for his hungry lips to ruin your soft ones. "So fuckin' tight on me."

Toji has your legs arranged on his left shoulder, exposing your bare ass and sex for his dick to abuse as he drills himself into you. The mating press forces you to accommodate the intruding length, your mewls taken by his mouth and tongue.

You're so out of breath from his kisses, and how the older man ruthlessly drives his dick straight into you doesn't ease the dizziness clouding your thoughts. The moans that escape your body bounce off the walls of the bedroom. "D-Daddy—Aaaoooh!! 'S feels too good, sooo good...Nnnnm!!

And Toji drinks your delirious appearance, taking in your blissful glow and writhing body as his cock bullies inside your entrance. "Yeah? Hmmph, I can tell. Lookin' all hot from this dick, baby."

You can only look at him and give a small attempt of a smile, licking your lips. He watches you do so, and his jade eyes stay on your lips for a moment while the pace of his hips goes slow.

An idea pops up, and he grins to himself with a lick to his scar.

"Hey, baby." Your attention's on him when he stops moving. "Open your mouth fr' me."

The request takes you aback, throwing trenched brows his way. Yet you still obey and open your mouth. "Stick your tongue out." You move your tongue to rest atop your bottom lip.

He cups your cheeks with his large hand and spits into your mouth while leaning toward you. The sudden action has you involuntarily closing your mouth with wide eyes. But Toji uses his same hand to cover your mouth from any protests.

"Swallow," his hoarse voice rings your eardrums, and your arousal tightens around his girth when he whispers dangerously close to your ears. "And I better see that pretty mouth of yours clean."

His thrusts come back to haunt you again, now pistoning his dick further to brush against your sweet spots, resulting in uncontrollable cries suppressed by Toji's hand.

The erratic rhythm of his hips coincides with the sounds of skin smacking against each other, his pelvis slamming down to your throbbing core. Each rut pounding your head and the constant churning of your insides makes breathing difficult.

He listens to your muffled whimpers in sync with the contraction of your heat on his cock. He knows you're about to come. And he's not too far behind. "Cum on me, angel. Cum with Daddy."

With the merciless tempo and the smack of your sexes turning your mind into mush, you finally give in to the ache between your legs and descend into your crescendo. And Toji follows through in a few deep thrusts, his load spilling into you as his weight cages you to accept it.

The two of you take a few moments to experience your orgasms fully, and Toji glances at you with hot breaths and dazed emerald eyes. Still, a smirk appears once he removes his hand from your mouth. "Lemme see, darlin'."

You take a moment to even your breathing and gulp before following orders. Opening your mouth with your tongue extended out, Toji sees it utterly empty of spit. His grin grows wider.

"That's it." He places a kiss on your forehead and cheeks. "Did so good fr' me, baby."

"Haaaaah, could've at least warned me." As the older man snickers at your complaint, you shake your head, yet a tiny giggle sneaks past your fatigued self. "You're lucky you're handsome, you nasty pervert."

"Heh, my bad, kid." He rests his forehead on yours, and you hum in compliance. "But at least I got you to be nasty with."

#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒔 #𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒔 #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk smut #jjk thirsts #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen toji #jjk toji #toji #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji thirst #toji headcanons #toji imagine #fushiguro toji x you #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji smut

[maskedblogie]

CW: Unprotected sex, fingering, ass smacking, dad's best friend, age gap, reader is in early 20s with König in late 30s, rough sex

a/n: Thanks for my love to help me visualize this<3

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊

dbf!König that's such a sweetheart to you, your dad wouldn't think much of it since all his mates would love your personality and style, yet König loves your body. He loves your throat, your warm cunt, and your tight asshole.

Whenever your dad would invite his mates to some party, he'd obviously join, not for food or the main party, but for you. He loves to just sneak upstairs and intrude barge into your room to see you in shorts that were tight on your butt and a crop top.

Oh fuck. You'd be swinging your legs while laying on your stomach just scrolling on your phone until you feel something poking you from behind. You panic and turn around but he already pinned your back down.

“Calm down, baby. It's jus'me. Wanna fuck this pussy badly.” He'd mutter before ripping off your shorts along with your panties in a swift movement, revealing your plump round ass with your dry cunt.

He then started to rub his finger on your folds and kept you pinned on the bed with his weight while his other hand was on your face, pushing two digits in your mouth to shut you up.

“Gotta make this pussy mine. Yeah? Make this all wet f'me.” You'd squirm from his weight which only makes your back arch further, whimpering due to his digits moving in your mouth as you swirled your tongue around it.

It doesn't take long for you to be wet, he kissed the top of your head and pushed a single finger into your wet folds, making you moan in pleasure and cause your thighs to shake. König would then push his two fingers deeper into your mouth until it reaches the back of your throat, making you gag and roll your eyes back.

He then pumps his finger in and out of your cunt that eventually makes a squelching sound that's almost embarrassing to hear, he then laughed to humiliate you when you're just moaning due to him.

König adds another finger, the stretch from just two of his fingers is indescribable. How can his fingers be so long and thick? Your whole body is already shaking from just him fingering your pussy.

“K-König-! Please... Oh God- it feels s'good..!”

He'd just laugh at you. Telling you how naughty you are for feeling good when it was your dad's friend who's fingering you, making you feel pleasured. König would remove his fingers from your cunt and would start to unbuckle his belt while keeping you pressed down on the bed.

König would force you to get on your knees and hold your hair in one hand, with his other under your body and playing with your clit, he aligned his thick fat cock on your open folds and pushed himself in, pushing your head deeper into the sheets as you scream.

“König! It's s-so big! Be gentle pleas-”

Your begging would fall on deaf ears as he drills his cock into you in a fast pace, holding up your hair to force you into lifting your head up. Thrusting in and out as your pussy molded to fit the shape of his fat veiny cock, you feel everything as he keeps on moving his hips faster.

Fuck. You feel so guilty about this. Wanting this to continue until you can't walk but wanting this to stop as well since you're letting your dad's bestfriend to fuck you as he likes.

But you never stopped, you moaned and whined at each thrust of his, his fingers moving rapid circles around your clit as he thrusts harder into you. The tip of his cock hitting your cervix and you swear he's pushing past it.

Your body would move up on the bed at each thrust from how powerful it was, his hand tightening on your hair and pulling it further while playing with your clit which made you reach your high in minutes.

Your toes would curl as you bounce your ass to his hips to make yourself cum, he removed his fingers from your clit and you felt an immediate sting on your ass cheeks and you came immediately. Your warm cum leaving a white ring on his lower shaft near his balls.

“Fuck- you came when I smacked your ass? Filthy whore.” König would degrade you, knowing you like it and you just went limp on the bed, shaking badly as your cum dripped down the bedsheets beneath your pussy.

#konig cod #konig x reader #konig mw2 #cod smut #könig smut #dbf!konig #fuck yeah

[softinvasions]

I Go First • Nov. 2023

It is beyond our concept to recover. The hole goes right through our exposed nerves, and below it lies a thin layer of ice that anesthetizes the wound.

Skin intrudes into skin. Cities topple off of glaciers into the sea. For months we fed on the damage as the melt threatened total collapse.

We drill to the break. When the water arrives, I go first. I melt into my suit and gloves, take our last freezing hour, dive through that unstoppable opening.

Poetry assembled from a National Geographic article on melting glaciers.

#p #drafts #< this is eternally a draft to me. there should be a stanza between the 2nd and 3rd ones but i got sick of staring at this #analog

[blasphemecel]

Michael Kaiser, Alexis Ness ��� Food Analogy

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader/Alexis Ness WORD COUNT: 3.3k TYPE: Humor, Bad Flirting (it's never been worse), Rivalry WARNING(S): Canon-typical football derangement, tw Kaiser, tw Ness, tw Y/n 💀 NOTE: This is the Dog Walking origin story does anyone remember me hi?

Believe it or not, Isagi never took you for a nutcase. Can your words sometimes be a bit absurd in nature? Over the top, maybe? Yes, but the environment you’re in is easy to blame. Otherwise, you’re a respectable individual, if not aloof, always keeping a certain distance from everyone else.

This is all to say, there is no way Isagi could’ve anticipated the utter nightmare he is in the middle of right now. If there was, he would’ve ran away the moment he heard your footsteps approaching after Kaiser blocked his shot and gave him that shitty speech.

You seem to have witnessed the whole thing, and with Kaiser gone, you wrap an arm around Isagi’s shoulders. “Do you know what he said to you?”

“In German?” asks Isagi, confused. “No.”

“What’s so special about you that one of the New Gen World XI players is picking a fight with you, huh? Because it was the last goal? He didn’t even glance at me and I finished the course before you.” Your eyes narrow at him with easy, second-nature condescension. It’s the first time you’ve hurled such provocations his way. “You’re always hogging the spotlight, you know?”

Isagi huffs, annoyed by your attitude. “Try harder in the next match, then. I don’t know what you want me to do. I’ll devour you either way.”

“Stop telling people you’re gonna devour them, you cannibal. It’s so tasteless.” You click your tongue, bemused by his lack of style — no wonder you get along with Aryu — and then you gesture at Ness and Kaiser in the distance. “Look at him. He even has a servant. It’s not fair. I want someone to do my bidding!”

“Why are you acting so childish right now?”

You push him off of you like you weren’t the one who got so close to him in the first place, then stalk up to Kaiser and Ness with the confidence of someone on a mission. At this point, Isagi knows he should look away, and yet his attention is glued to whatever is about to ensue like he’s a spectator of a car crash.

Ness offers you a fake smile and reaches out to hand you the same translation gadget he’d given Isagi earlier, but, of course, because you’re insane, you decide the most appropriate course of action is to take out one of his and shove it in your ear. He blinks.

“You seem vulnerable and easy to boss around,” you say. Wow, what a first impression. Ness’s smile slips. “I’m looking for a henchman or a goon or something similar. Are you interested?” Then you address Kaiser. “That was a cute little show you put on for Isagi. For how long did you practice it?”

“It was improvised,” he lies.

“Sure it was.”

“Who the hell are you?” Kaiser shoos you away with a wave of his hand. “Third rate actor trying to intrude on my stage. Bo-ring.”

Isagi cannot discern if Kaiser doesn’t recognize you from the U-20 match for real or if he’s just pretending in order to insult you, but his best guess is that you’re going to make him… very aware of your identity after this.

___

This is, perhaps, the most insulting thing to ever happen to Isagi.

The field falls into a conclusive silence, everyone still lingering by whatever spot they’d been in during the game before it finished. Isagi knows he’s staring at you like a serial killer, eyes drilling holes into your side profile with utmost offense. The football-induced neurosis he usually gets lost in while playing is yet to wear off, which is probably why he’s taking this to heart.

Without a doubt, you were ahead of him at least in the final moment, despite failing to stand out for the rest of the match. You’d predicted he wouldn’t cave in and pass to Kaiser and got in range, jumping in between them out of nowhere, stealing what was supposed to be Kunigami’s goal.

Though what made your outplaying him so galling is that it was all a way of picking a fight with fucking Kaiser. Not even with him, but with Kaiser. His act of relenting — of not trying to score on his own because of concepts like rationality and recognizing limits — became an instrument in this stupid fight you’ve been picking.

Then Isagi watches you figuratively spit in Kaiser’s face because, of course, your obnoxious ass can’t just win and leave it at that. No, unnecessary amounts of gloating seem to be what you run on, and now you grab Kaiser by the chin and mock his introduction, “On your knees, Bastard München.”

This is the worst transgression of Kaiser’s life. You’ve addressed him like he is a dull, unnoteworthy part of a collective, not even bothering to say his name while sporting the shittiest sneer he has ever seen. He’s pissed, and all he can do is stare in confusion. Despite his long going career as an instigator, this response (to his general existence and demeanor) is still somehow unique and, worse, effective.

When you let go of him, you withdraw your fingers from his face like he’s dirty. You shrug, then raise your hands in the air in a victorious manner, and you look happier than Isagi has ever seen you before. “Ta da. All eyes on me.”

But the shitshow doesn’t appear to be anywhere near over because while everyone else is frozen, you’re approaching him now, unperturbed by the attention you’re receiving as if it’s your birthright. Like you were made for the spotlight.

“Isagi, didn’t you say you were going to ‘devour’ me?” you ask once you’re right in front of him, your exterior growing more complacent by the minute. “Didn’t you challenge me? Seems to me like I’m too big for you to chew.”

If nothing else, though, unbeknownst to himself, Isagi, too, is insane. He has unreasonable amounts of determination and loves when things get difficult just so he can chase the satisfaction of overcoming them, among his other eccentricities. “This was just one match. We’re one for one now. I’ll defeat all of-”

“What are you two doing?!” Ness asks through a tight, passive aggressive smile. You hadn’t noticed him closing in on you, too high on your own power trip. He grabs you both, one shoulder in each hand, and squeezes with a death grip. “Do you think this is your show? This is Kaiser’s team, not the figure-out-which-good-for-nothing-is-slightly-better team. Either behave and follow the rules, or face the consequences.”

“Good for nothing? Shut up, little midfielder, you’re too scared to stand on your own feet, so you have to degrade yourself as Kaiser’s boytoy instead. I guess his shadow is a comfortable spot to hide in with how enormous his head is,” Isagi says. His tone is so matter of fact, it leaves minimal room for argument.

“He’s good, though. I can see potential in him to be almost as good as Sae. I want you to pass to me, too, Ness. Right? You can emphasize my star qualities with yours, can’t you, Ness? I can shine on you. It’s fine by me.”

It’s like two predatory animals are staring him down, trying to gauge his taste through smell alone — you with your fake innocent, curious expression, and Isagi, who doesn’t seem to realize he spewed vitriolic insults with the nonchalance of a weather cast announcement.

For sure both of you would’ve gotten a broken ankle each the way Ness is gritting his teeth right now, but emerging out of his stupor, Kaiser intervenes. And when Kaiser speaks, he commands Ness’s full attention, rendering him speechless. He pushes Ness out of the way, deeming this a fitting way to insert himself in the conversation. Then he looks you in the eyes with a… smirk? Isagi was hoping his dolour would last a little longer. “I figured out what your role is.”

“I’m not interested in starring in movies made by incompetent directors.”

“You’re going to be my love interest,” declares Kaiser, not at all fazed by your dismissal. “I’m not that bad,” he continues, because naturally, nice people always have to declare themselves as such. “I can recognize when someone has skills. You’re my darling in distress, and I need to save you from the peasantry of Blue Lock, so your talent can flourish. That’s your role.”

You continue observing him with mild amusement like what he told you was normal. Meanwhile, Isagi is wondering if your stunt earlier gave Kaiser whiplash or vertigo or something. Maybe he went and snapped. Clearly, these aren’t words coming from a sound mind.

Even Ness, who at this point should to some degree expect Kaiser to be deranged, gasps. Whether at his audacity or lack of shame, it’s not clear.

“How unoriginal. Think of a better one.” You shoo him to decline the proposal. “Besides, you already know I’m more interested in your lapdog.”

“What?!” Ness calls out, now moving onto being offended. “Are you rejecting Kaiser? And you- me?! What?!”

Isagi’s entire face scrunches. Did this man seriously not even flinch after getting called a lapdog?

Apparently no longer finding this conversation a proper source of entertainment, you wave them off dismissively and walk away without sparing them a second glance. Isagi watches as Kaiser stares creepily at your retreating silhouette with this little infatuated(?) smile on his face.

What is this lunatic so happy about, anyway? Does he even realize he was the perpetrator of his own public humiliation ritual? Leave it to Kaiser not to understand that he embarrassed himself.

Ness runs after you, yelling objections, but at this point Isagi isn’t even listening. He doesn’t want to listen. Neither are you, if the way you’re picking your ear and not responding to him while ducking out of his way is anything to go by.

After everything cools down a little and everyone has scattered about, Bachira inches towards Isagi. Easy-going as ever, hands interlocked behind his head, he says, “You’re all psychos on your team, huh? Must be fun.”

Oh… Yes, Bachira witnessed all that… Everyone did. Isagi almost forgot. The vortex of the utter absurdity of this situation sucked him in for a second there.

___

Isagi doesn’t even bother removing his sweaty uniform before he approaches you, looking all determined. He can’t get it out of his head… Did you read him? Or was it a guess? You got there too fast, as if you foresaw what he was about to do before he even decided it. “How did you know I was going to pass to Kunigami?”

“Isagi, don’t ask me narrow-minded questions. We just had a match and I need to revitalize myself,” you tell him as if what you’re saying makes perfect sense. It’s like you make it a point to phrase everything in the oddest way possible.

“Narrow-minded? Could you stop being a pain in the ass and answer me?”

“Well, you weren’t about to pass to Kaiser, and you used to be buddies with the ginger. So, pray tell, where else could the ball go?”

Surely, it wasn’t as predictable as you’re making it out to be?

“You could’ve collided with them, lost your starter spot and cost us the game without even touching the ball. It wasn’t worth the risk.” Isagi isn’t really sure why he’s even saying this. It paid off for you, but he needs to understand the intricacies of all the ways his rivals are ahead of him just so he can overthrow them. You’re another mark on his football hit list.

“Since when are you so trifling? You’re losing me more and more by the minute here.”

“What are you even on about?”

“I’m a striker. I’m sublime. I score. And you’re asking me why I chose to score?”

Isagi tries to glean some hidden wisdom from this statement — there is none — but before he can at least offer a response, Yukimiya intrudes on your conversation by talking about something wholly irrelevant.

Yukimiya berates him. You fade into the background of this conflict, observing, while everyone else makes an attempt to de-escalate the argument. To make matters worse, Kaiser makes an obnoxious entrance and delivers a useless speech about how you all better follow him and blah, blah, blah.

“What a stupid thing to say,” you point out, taking a step forward as if to challenge him. Isagi doesn’t like that he has to bear witness to you and Kaiser making eye contact again. “We’re in Blue Lock. Would the world’s best settle for just surviving?”

“None of you will be the world’s best and I’m here to show you. By the way, I meant what I told you earlier. Don’t go fading into obscurity following the wrong king. I really can’t stand it when someone doesn’t know how to use their talent, and your talent would make a good accessory to mine.”

“The only king I obey is my desire.”

“You say that now, but I’ll get you in the end.”

“Did you walk in here half naked to try and seduce me? You jezebel…”

Isagi makes the wise decision to tune out the rest of your bickering with Kaiser for the sake of his ears and mental clarity. Still, he can tell there is something here which is evading him. If he can identify everyone’s priorities — Kaiser’s need to live out his emperor fantasy, and your hedonism, and Yukimiya’s dedication to his ideals — can he use this knowledge to his advantage and come out on top?

___

You’re fighting with Kaiser again. It’s not real fighting, though, is it? Isagi has become well-acquainted with all sorts of depravity since the beginning of his stay at Blue Lock — most often had been the victim of it, even — so he can recognize it with ease. Because of this, he pays you minimal attention during the unfortunate moment when he needs to waltz by.

But the next display of obscenity, he truly does not anticipate. He turns around the corner of the hallway on the way back to his room, and what does he realize he’s seeing? Ness peeking his head out from behind the corner to watch you go at it from a distance, that’s what. Why is he even doing this? He’s always doting on Kaiser, so it’s not like it’d be weird if he was there, up close and personal. He’s literally making it stranger than it needs to be.

“What are you doing?” Isagi blurts out, before he can think better of asking.

Ness startles. Apparently he’s been focusing so intensely on… observing you and Kaiser, he didn’t register someone passing by a few inches away from him. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before eventually coming up with, “I, uh… Um, I- I… Uh.”

Isagi almost lets it go, but then Ness says,

“Everyone has their… interests and passions, so… You can’t judge me.”

“Wait, this is an interest and a passion to you?”

“Um, I, uh.” Ness’s face contorts into that reflexive creepy smile Isagi has come to expect of him. “Yes. Now go away, you’re interrupting me.” Oh no, he’s becoming confident in his… Whatever this is.

Isagi exits the vicinity with an unnecessary amount of caution. He can’t tell if the feeling of someone’s gaze burning his back is just paranoia on his part.

___

Today’s bullshit: another one of your arguments is unfolding, and this time, Isagi doesn’t have the choice to feign ignorance. You’re supposed to be splitting up in two for a practice match. Obviously this devolved into an inane dispute about who the biggest hotshot is. Isagi, holding the glorious title of ‘captain of Team B,’ tries to follow the plot of this whole thing. Mainly to figure out a way to make you and Kaiser shut up and get on with the game already because your voices now automatically register as a cacophony in his head.

“I’m not going on your team unless I get to be the captain,” you say. “And Ness passes to me.”

“I won’t play midfielder if you’re center forward!” Ness protests.

“Come on. We’d be a hit together. Stop pretending.”

“You’re putting yourself on quite the high pedestal there,” Kaiser says. “Is the altitude messing with your head? Don’t give yourself vertigo now.”

“If you died on the field, I’d do a penalty kick while standing on your corpse.”

Leave it to you to escalate things for the sake of getting a reaction out of Ness. He shakes you by the shoulders back and forth while yelling something unintelligible as Kaiser snickers, maybe finding this to be an amusing or god forbid romantic mental image.

Why are they acting like children? Isagi holds back an audible groan or perhaps an onslaught of derogatory words. He’s not sure how to solve this, though. You’ve been going in circles for a few minutes now, and Kaiser got mad when you said you’d be on Isagi’s team, and Isagi got mad when you tried to steal his aforementioned prestigious title, too.

The debate of who the superior striker is — objectively it’s Kaiser, but Isagi admires your dedication to your delusions in the face of Ness’s sectarian wrath — continues. Then, it happens. Something awful to honor your skills.

“What did you call it, Yoichi? Devouring?” asks Kaiser, before turning his attention back to you, sly smile on his annoying face and all. Then he puts his stupid hand over your loony head and pushes it aside, giving a good view of your neck. “I think in that case, I might want to take a bite out of you.”

What…

Oh my god, Isagi thinks, stomach churning, and truly, he might vomit. The state of affairs has never been more dire than this. No way that demented freak just did this without any shame?!

You open your dumb mouth, probably to respond with a snarky remark (which will inevitably somehow make this ten times more inappropriate). Isagi won’t stand for this.

Interrupting you before you’ve even begun speaking, he points an accusatory finger at Kaiser first. “You’re a pervert. Not only are you a pervert, but you’re doing it right in front of everyone. All the time! What’s wrong with you?”

He stares at Isagi incredulously. “What?”

Next, you enter the line of fire. “And you try to provoke him into doing things like this on purpose! Just so you can embarrass him! You’re a pervert in a much more pretentious and obnoxious way. You’re enjoying this!”

“What the fuck,” you blurt out. This is the first time he’s heard you sound defensive. “No, I’m not. We aren’t doing anything.”

“Yeah, we aren’t doing anything,” Kaiser agrees. “Fuck off, Yoichi.”

Isagi ignores these protests. They’re futile, anyway. He knows he’s right. Even if he isn’t, all of you deserve this slander in his opinion. For a moment, Ness makes the mistake of assuming he’s been spared, but, “You’re the worst, though. You like it when they fight over you. You have no self-respect.”

“Wh- What?! But I didn’t even do anything!”

“Yeah, that’s the thing, suck-off.” Isagi grabs him by the wrist and tugs him over to his side, apparently having decided this is the answer. “You’re going to be on my team.” Then he glances at the two of you, and that part of his brain which he tries to ignore when he’s not on the field sends a spark of joy and satisfaction coursing through his veins at the unadulterated indignation on your faces. “Deal with each other, yeah? Since you’re so inseparable.”

Noa tells everyone to hurry up, and the rest of the spectators mutter in agreement before Ness can even regain his senses and put up a fight. His eyes are wide and glossy, his jaw is hanging, and he is looking at Kaiser and then at you and then back at Kaiser with the sadness of a character in a Shakespearean play.

Kaiser looks like he is about to pop several blood vessels.

You huff, cross your arms, and pout. Why does Isagi always win?!

___

Thyere so embarrassing omfg im laugihing so hard

#blue lock x reader #michael kaiser x reader #alexis ness x reader #kaiser x reader #ness x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you