#reposting this from my old blog because i’m still really proud of it

[maliciouslove]

𝕌𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕟

NSFW, aged up characters (21+)

pairing // ghost!Baji Keisuke x medium!reader x Chifuyu Matsuno

summary // after his death Baji finds himself stuck in the realm of the living. he’s firmly decided to cockblock his best friend Chifuyu, that is until he decides to seek the help of a medium to figure out what the heck is happening.

alternatively: a threesome with a ghost????

word count // 7k 

tags // supernatural, inaccurate representation of a medium, light swearing, angst?, questionably happy ending?, threesome, oral (both m! and f! receiving), spitroasting, anal, double penetration, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating, spit, praise, multiple pet names (princess, kitten, good girl, pretty girl, etc.), not choking but gentle throat holding (idk), throat fucking, there is some baji x fuyu action, feelings

AN // hello people of the internet, I'm finally reposting my fics! hence why, if this fic seems familiar—do not be alarmed, it was first posted on my old blog :] posting this one first because it is the first one that I was actually really proud of, and because I'm still feral for baji. you can also find it here on ao3. cute mdni banner by @/cafekitsune

What’s a spirit stuck in the realm of the living to do with all their free time? 

Take care of their friends, obviously. 

Baji Keisuke left the world of the living far too young. He wasn’t ready to leave, nor was he ready for the realization that he never really left. One moment there was darkness, and the next… he could see his own body, pale and bloodied, cradled by a crying Chifuyu. 

Dying was painful, but seeing this hurt more. 

Baji’s never been one to dwell too long on things; he kind of just accepted his new reality—he was a ghost. Stuck with his appearance as a 19 year old, he existed outside of everybody’s field of perception. Outside of anyone’s knowledge. 

So the best that he could do was to at least stay close to the ones he loved. To watch them from afar despite the fact that he was sitting right next to them. 

He’d watch over his mom: observe as she always left his favorite food by the altar each night. Watch as she flipped through old albums, smiling at his baby pictures. He’d listen to her talk to herself, sometimes even to him. He always found that rather funny, that she’d just randomly start talking to him, telling him all about her day, and finish off with a little “you’re not even here, are you?” as she smiles fondly at another old picture. 

He wished he could tell her, let her know. Hey mom, I’m right here! He’s tried many times, and each attempt ended with failure as his hands simply passed through her. 

Aside from keeping an eye out for his mother, he also took the time to check in on his friends. While his mother was more active during the day, his friends were more lively at night. He always felt relieved that, while a lot of things changed after his death, at least they didn’t spiral out of control. At least nobody left. At least nobody else got hurt. 

The two people he’d check on the most were Mikey, the leader of Toman and his childhood friend, and Chifuyu, his ex vice-captain and best friend. 

He followed Mikey around for a year, concerned about his mental state and the people he surrounded himself with, but luckily the rest of the gang were still there to take care of it. It was kind of nice to see Mikey finally admit he needs help, to admit he isn’t as invincible as everybody believed he was. So on that end, Baji was satisfied—he no longer felt the need to follow his every move. Mikey was in safe hands. And so were the rest of the gang—they’d all stick together through thick and thin and he loved that about them. 

But then there was the issue of Chifuyu. While his mental state was a tad more stable than Mikey’s (even though he did cry his eyes out for three months straight) and his physical strength and fighting ability were reassuring, Fuyu was always a little… lost. 

Having never been able to read people well, except for maybe Baji, Chifuyu was sometimes taken advantage of. While he may act tough, Baji knew he was kind and helpful, always giving too much of himself to others.

It was about 2 years after Baji’s death that Fuyu got into dating again, if you could even call it that. The green eyed boy was no longer blonde—instead his hair was now black (like Baji’s) and slicked back. He was a little taller, a little more muscle than before. He looked like a child no more, yet he still acted like a child sometimes, so how could Keisuke not worry about him?

The first girl Chifuyu ever decided to go out with was bad news, and Baji knew it at first glance. A stuck up, shallow, arrogant little girl that lived off of daddy’s money. Baji never wrapped his head around why she was interested in Fuyu, nor why he gave her the time of day, but the fact of the matter was that Baji didn’t like it. 

Oh, he hated her with a burning passion. Every time Chifuyu's phone would light up with her name on the caller ID, Baji would get so pissed that the room temperature would drop by five degrees. Every time she wraps her hands around Chifuyu’s neck Baji would glare at her so hard it would make the lights in the room flicker. 

His dissatisfaction with this girl grew more and more over time, and with each passing day he could notice the little things his anger caused. So he experimented with it, he focused his anger on objects, rather than dispersing it all around him, and it worked! He could move objects, little by little, and he could fuck with the lights and heating if he wanted to. 

So at some point, Baji became obsessed with chasing off girls he didn’t approve of. Under the pretense that his friend deserves better of course. He later dropped that pretense and faced the hard cold truth—if I can’t get my dick wet, neither can Fuyu. 

He’d scare off girl after girl by making objects rattle every time his best friend has his arm draped around a girl’s shoulder, swinging doors open left and right if they’re about to kiss, turning the lights on and off whenever things get spicier. It was all fun and games for the bored ghost boy, but Chifuyu was getting desperate. 

It’d been too long since he’d had a nice warm cunt wrapped around his cock. Too fucking long. And what the fuck was up with his house? He’d never been one to believe in ghosts or anything supernatural, but the weird shit was starting to get to him. 

So, incredibly desperate now, Chifuyu decided to seek help. What kind of help he wasn’t really sure, but he was angrily typing away at his laptop, trying to find exorcists or mediums or anyone who could fucking explain what the hell was happening under his roof.

The first two he had invited over were complete fakes: telling him they sensed a presence of some sort, chanting shit in a different language that Chifuyu could only presume to be Latin. They both said his house was “cleansed” now, but alas not even a week later when he had another girl ever in his apartment, the exact same things happened. 

He was losing hope until he got a ping on his phone, a reply from someone under one of his posts asking for help.

“Hey, I saw your post online that you’re experiencing some... Supernatural occurrences at home. I was wondering if I could maybe take a look myself? Free of charge if I find nothing and am unable to help you, of course.” 

He stared at his phone long and hard. Most people who answered his plea for help online started their conversation with their payment rate first, explicitly saying “no refunds,” but this person was offering help free of charge provided they are unable to help? That was new. Refreshing. Plus the idea of not paying was very appealing to him so he had nothing to lose—he immediately typed up a response, making an appointment with this medium and giving them his home address. 

And without a doubt, the following day at 6pm there’s a timid knock on his front door. He saunters over and opens the door to be greeted by the most blinding smile he’s ever laid eyes upon. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N, we spoke over text about your problem with possible supernatural activity in your home.” 

You extend your hand to him, and, nervously, he slots his hand in yours, shaking it lightly while introducing himself. He invites you in and awkwardly offers to take your coat. He wasn’t expecting a cute girl around his age, but he wasn’t complaining. 

Leading you down the hall into the living room, Chifuyu rambles on and on about the weird stuff that’s been happening, explaining how he’s already called multiple maintenance people to examine his pipes, heating, electrical wiring and so on and found absolutely nothing. 

Continuing his little rant, the green-eyed man didn't even notice that you had stopped by the door frame, staring right at the empty space on his couch. Well, to Chifuyu it looked empty, to you… it looked occupied by a slightly younger yet taller man with long dark hair and golden eyes that seemed to pierce through you. 

Without a doubt, there were all the telltale signs that he was, in fact, an apparition. He looked pale, almost translucent in the afternoon light flowing through the window behind him, a faint glow to him that made him look like a fallen angel. You could feel his aura all around you, too—the same skin prickling feeling you always had when in contact with a spirit. 

The long-haired man lazily yawns and scratches his butt, looking particularly bored as if this happens on a daily basis. He shifts on the couch, folding his hands in front of his chest and looking you up and down, as if evaluating you and deciding what course of action to take. 

“Hey, are you okay?” the Chifuyu’s voice brings you back to reality, and you tear your gaze away from the apparition across from you. 

“Um, hey, so… did you know anyone with, um, long, dark hair and bright yellow eyes? Kinda mean looking?” 

At this, Baji makes a face, half surprised she described him so well, half offended at the last part of her statement. 

Chifuyu’s eyes turn comically large. 

“How... How did you..?” 

He can’t even fully form the sentence, quickly glancing around the room to see if there are any pictures of his dead friend laying around. She can’t know about him, she’s a stranger, and he’s been gone for a few years now. So how? 

“Well, uh, he’s kind of chilling on your couch right now? Right, okay, I know this is weird, and you probably don’t believe me, I don’t blame you, most people don’t.” Your voice goes a little quieter at the end, a kind of sadness looming over you, but you shake it off quickly. “I’ve been able to see spirits since I was a child, I know, bonkers, I can’t explain how or why, but I do, and this guy is currently looking as surprised as you are.”

Chifuyu looks at the couch again, eyes glistening and full of longing, hands balled into fists at his side. But he couldn’t, so then why is he so intent on believing? Why is he so hopeful?

You don’t miss the little glint of wistfulness in his eyes, the desperation clinging onto his lips as he struggles to choose his next words. 

“Can you… talk to spirits?” 

“Yeah.. I can, provided they want to talk to me too.” 

You look at the man across from you again and smile weakly. You can’t always know if they’re malicious spirits or not; sometimes they could get real bad, but this one, despite looking feral, didn’t give off the impression he was malicious. 

“S’what, ya can see me? Hear me?” Baji spoke and the gruffness in his voice almost made you forget how to breathe. 

You don’t meet good-looking spirits often. You meet the ghosts of elderly men and women who want to look after their children and grandchildren a little longer, you meet young, fragile kids, still confused and not understanding what happened to them. But never before had you met a handsome young ghost that smirked at you as if he knew all your secrets. 

“Yea, I can see and hear you.” You smile at him, big and bright, and he feels blinded by it. Yet also so drawn to it, like some sort of heavenly light, a beacon calling him home. “Can I ask you for your name?”

“Why? Does my name give you, like, powers over me? Are ya gonna exorcise me or some shit?” 

He grins and stalks forward, closing the distance between you by simply walking through whatever objects stand in his way. Unconsciously you take a step back, not even noticing the bewildered look on Chifuyu’s face. 

“I can’t exorcise you, I’m not ordained. I can just… perceive you and talk to you.” 

You gulp and your visible nervousness makes something in Baji shift. He grins down at you, his larger frame towering over your much smaller one, and you feel so exposed under his gaze. Chifuyu’s voice is what drags you back down to Earth again.

“Wait, are you for real right now? What is happening?” He’s confused and concerned and so, so hopeful. You look at him and smile reassuringly. 

“Yeah, he just got a little closer than I expected, but I can hear and see him, hasn’t told me his name yet though. Kinda rude.” 

You arch a brow in the direction of the pale ghost again, and he fucking laughs. A whole-hearted, loud roar of a laugh, as if this is the most amusing thing that has happened to him in years. It probably is. 

“Baji Keisuke, what’s yer name sweetheart?” 

You repeat his name slowly, liking the way it rolls off your tongue and you give him your name. Meanwhile, Chifuyu is going crazy next to you, barely containing himself. 

“Baji? Did you say… Baji? Oh God, please tell me you’re not fucking with me, I swear to God..” 

You cut him off by placing a hand on his shoulder. You ask him to close his eyes, take a deep breath, and he obeys. He looks shaken: arms stiffly sitting by his sides. There’s a visible tremble in his hands, and you notice he’s not even daring to take a breath. 

The sight of him like this tugs at your heart, and your chest feels impossibly tight. Your fingers itch to touch him, to hold him close and soothe him, but the rational side of you tells you otherwise. Whatever his relationship to the other man is, he really, really misses him. The least you could do is try and give him a little glimpse. As tiring as it may be to maintain. 

You take a firm hold of his hand which feels icy compared to yours and you give him a light squeeze as you tell him to open his eyes again. And when he does… tears brim at the corner of his eyes at the sigh of his best friend. 

“Baji…” 

It’s a half whisper, half sob, and you have to hold his hand tighter so he doesn’t leap forward in an attempt to hug the spirit. 

“Can he… see me?” The spirit looks equally as hopeful as his friend, and you nod in confirmation, reveling in the fact that you were able to bring this small happiness to them.

“He should be able to hear you too.” 

And before you know it, they’re both crying. Sadness, relief, bewilderment or pure nostalgia—you don’t know, but you’re determined to give them all the time you can to catch up. 

They talk happily for hours, Baji goes on and on about how he just can’t seem to leave. Chifuyu just apologizes over and over about being too weak and unable to save him. The long-haired man just shrugs it off and offers a big fanged smile in return. They talk about so many things, and finally Chifuyu asks the question that actually led to this situation unfurling. 

“So… all the lights flickering and the noises were all… from you? Why?”

“Ah.. heh, okay don’t be mad.” 

Baji speaks in between little chuckles, amused with himself and happy that as a ghost he can’t be touched. His eyes crinkle into little crescent moons as he chirps away his clumsy explanation, elaborating that at some point he just got pissy and decided that if he can’t fuck, his friend can’t eiether. 

“You’re… joking right?” 

Chifuyu looks like he’s about to rampage and yell, but he notices your head wobbling, eyes lidded and tired. You looked exhausted and pale so he shook you a little, worry painted on his face. 

“Hey? Are you okay?” 

“Yeah it’s just.. A little tiring. It’s fine though, please continue!” 

Baji shakes his head and speaks before Chifuyu can. “Ya need to rest, dollface. Breaks m’heart seeing you like this. It’ll be fine, I got to talk to my friend today, maybe this is what helps me cross over to the other side or whatever.” 

His smile is reassuring, but a part of you wants to give them more time. Unfortunately, your body disagrees with your heart, and you start feeling very faint. 

“Hey, why don’t you lay down for a bit, I don’t want to send you off like this. It’s fine, just rest your head a little until you feel better.” 

Chifuyu had let go of your hand, losing the ability to see his friend, and gently nudged you down on the couch, placing a soft pillow under your head. You shouldn’t be falling asleep like this at a stranger’s house, but your body gives out before you could argue with yourself. 

You stir and slowly blink the tiredness from your eyes. Rising a little, you take in the room and in pieces it all comes back to you. The job, the green-eyed cutie, his hot ghost friend: the entire ordeal. 

“Finally awake, princess?” 

Baji’s voice comes right behind you, and you almost fall off the couch in surprise. In absolute reflex Baji reaches over to grab you by the waist and prevent you from toppling over and it takes him a minute to realize.

He is, in fact, holding you right now. He squeezes at your waist a little, and you look equally as dumbfounded. 

“Am I?”

“You are.”

“Holy shit.” Chifuyu’s voice gets you both out of your daze as he stares wide-eyed at the both of you. Suddenly, he can see. Without even having to hold your hand.

After some thinking, you explain to them that this has never happened before, but it’s most likely some sort of side effect for keeping them able to see and talk to each other for so long, combined with the intensity of the feelings they all shared. You have no idea how long this will last, but you’re willing to stay over for the entire duration of it. 

It’s been established that Baji can touch you and you can feel him, the question is does the same apply to his friend? They both look nervous as they approach each other, holding out a single finger and they gasp when they feel the pads of their fingers collide. 

Before you know it, Chifuyu is being hurled into a tight bear hug and nearly spun around in the room. It’s cute to see how much they still care for each other. You spend the rest of the evening asking about their friendship, learning how they became friends, how they were both in a gang, how close they used to be. How devastating it was to lose each other. 

All the while you notice you’re not getting tired at all. Which is an unusual yet welcomed change. You really like these two, you like that they’re probably some of the first people to genuinely believe you when you say you can see ghosts and not just kick you to the curb because of it. You like how cheerful they are. You enjoy their refreshing energy, and you better not be lying to yourself by saying you don’t enjoy the little pet names Baji seems so intent on giving you. 

When two o’clock rolls around, the effect is still in full force, but Chifuyu feels awful for making you stay, so he offers to drive you home instead. You try to argue that you can drive yourself, but he insists. Quite frankly, he’s just hoping you have a reason to come by again, even if it’s just to pick up your car. But you exchange numbers and promise to talk again and hang out soon. 

“Hopefully Baji won’t chase me away like all the other girls.”

“Mm, don’t ya worry about it angel, I’ve taken quite the liking to you.” 

He smiles from the back seat of the car, and you all laugh. 

As you lay in bed that night, you really hope you could spend more time with them. 

As if your prayers have been heard, you do get to spend more time with them. Surprisingly and with no explanation at all, the side effects are still in full force, and you’re both still able to see and touch the handsome spirit. 

The longer the effects are in place, the closer the three of you seem to get. Seductive jokes are thrown around, and Chifuyu picks up his friend's habit of referring to you with cute little names. He’s particularly fond of kitten, and you’re particularly fond of the butterflies the title gives you. 

With all this flirting and teasing, it’s no surprise really when you end up on Chifuyu’s lap with your back pressed to his chest, Baji towering over you, his voice a few octaves lower than it usually is when he speaks to you.

“Aw, are we makin’ ya flustered, princess?” 

His index finger traces your jaw as his eyes are practically glued to your lips and the idea alone makes your thighs press together. Chifuyu’s hands boldly roam your lower half, one hand sliding on the inner side of your thigh.

“You know, all you have to do is say stop and we will.” 

Chifuyu’s breath ghosts over the side of your neck and honestly, you don’t want them to stop. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about this, imagined how their hands would feel on your skin while laying in bed late at night. Burying your fingers in your pussy until your thighs are shaking, wishing it was their cocks instead. 

So, when you feel Chifuyu’s hands softly squeeze your breasts and glide up to gently wrap around your throat, not squeezing but just holding you there, you can’t help the little whimper that escapes. 

All Baji can manage in response is a feral growl, and he’s sinking to his knees between your legs spread over his best friend’s. Chifuyu’s hand never leaves your throat, but his other free hand takes your chin ever so gently, turning you to face him. He’s looking at you with those big green eyes, silently asking permission to kiss you, but you’re impatient. You crash your lips onto his in a messy kiss, nipping at his bottom lip when he doesn’t give you access to his mouth fast enough. Eventually, though, he obliges, tongue meeting yours in a battle for dominance that you’re currently winning. That is, until you feel Baji lifting your skirt and pressing two fingers to your clothed slit, and you lose all your composure, moaning into Chifuyu’s mouth. 

Baji is holding your legs open, his icy hands gripping your plush thighs as he feasts at the sight of your panties dampening from his ministrations. All the while Chifuyu is holding your arms in place, kissing you like you’re all the oxygen he needs, like you’re life-saving water to a man lost in an endless desert. Stuck between these two men, any other thoughts have long since left you. All you know is you want more. 

Your neediness seeps out in the form of moans and your hips wiggling against Baji’s every touch, so he happily obliges and gives you exactly what you want. Hooking a finger over your panties, he rips them off of you in one swift motion, reveling in the beauty of the little squeal you give him in response. And your pussy is as pretty as he imagined it, all puffy and pink, so wet and needy for his touch. He licks his lips and gives you another look, waiting for permission to have his way with you and all you can manage is a weak nod. 

Wasting no more time he delves in, mouth latching on your sensitive clit, tongue flicking over it in a well practiced motion. Every lick sends a shiver down your spine and coaxes wanton moans out of you. Chifiyu doesn’t stay behind either, his much warmed hands sliding under your shirt and groping at your breasts, toying with the supple flesh, tweaking and tugging on your pert nipples. His mouth was now busy sucking purple bruises into the soft skin on your neck, and every little motion from the boys was driving you mad. 

The dedication and effort they give you, the affectionate praises they shower you in, combined with the pleasure they’re giving you it drives you closer and closer to your high. And they know. The way your body tenses, the uneven heave of your breasts, and your wimpers getting louder and louder: you’re so close. 

One of Chifuyu’s hands is wrapped around your throat, gently applying the tiniest of pressure, while his other hand slides down your stomach to rub thigh circles over your clit while Baji finally replaces his tongue with two thick fingers. He pushes them past your entrance, and your eyes roll to the back of your skull in ecstasy as he pumps them in and out of your cunt. Building faster and faster, your orgasm takes you by surprise when it finally comes. It washes over you in tidal waves, drowning you in pleasure and the two men in complete madness. In the need to have you. 

You don’t have time to come down from your high as you’re being placed on all fours, Chifuyu taking his place behind you, and Baji to your front tangling his hands in your hair. There’s no need for him to tell you what he wants; you’re already running your shaky hands over his hard length, gently squeezing through the fabric. You briefly struggle with the buttons on his pants, but finally you manage to pull the jeans down and free his cock. God, his dick is gorgeous. Thick and veiny, his tip now angry red from neglect with pearly beads of precum sliding down the shaft. 

Behind you Chifuyu is sliding his cock up and down your slit, taking his sweet time before slotting himself where you really need him. His cock is not as thick, but it’s long and slightly curved, pretty pink and eager to feel your walls clenching around it. Baji’s grip on your hair thightens when he notices you’re paying attention only to his friend. A little jealous and possessive, he taps the head of his cock against your plump lips. 

“Don’t forget m’here too angel, or I’ll assume the effects wore off, and I can’t have that now that I’ve had a taste of you.” 

You look up at him, begging him to stuff your mouth full with your eyes alone. You stick out your tongue for him, as if to show you haven’t forgotten about him at all. Simultaneously, Chifuyu finally sheathes his cock in you—all the way to the hilt, hips flush against your ass—and you moan, eyes crossing from the pleasure. You look obscene, and Baji takes the opportunity to fill your pretty mouth with his cock. 

Oh, and you can’t take all of him in, he’s so thick and heavy against your tongue. You moan around his length, and drool dribbles down your chin. They take you like that, Chifuyu thrusting his hips into your heat, marveling at the warmth and tightness of your cunt, praise dripping from his lips like honey. So good for me baby, just like that. God you take me so well, fuck. 

Baji lets you pick your pace on his length, and you make a mental note of the way his cock twitches every time you take him in deeper, the head of his cock bumping the back of your throat. You enjoy the way he looks like he’s about to crumble under the pleasure, so you do it again and again, taking him down your throat, the walls constricting around his length. Baji’s head falls back, eyes shut in pleasure as you coax him to the edge. 

“Fuck, princess you better fucking swallow, don’t let a drop fall out of your pretty lips, ‘kay?” 

He looks down at you almost lovingly: his pale near-translucent skin slightly flushed, cheeks dusted with pink, his pretty golden eyes now darkened by the lust clouding his mind. You want to confirm you understand him, but his large hands cup the back of your head and you’re no longer in control of the pace. Now he’s fucking into your pliant mouth, every thrust making you gag a little around his girth, tears brimming at the corner of your eyes. It hurts, but it also feels so fucking good��the pleasant sting causing pleasure to course through your veins like a drug. And you’re addicted to the feeling. 

Then you feel him twitch against your tongue, his eyes closing and muscles going rigid as he finally reaches his climax. Thick ropes of sticky sweet cum slide down your throat and you do your best to swallow it all. You don’t even bother thinking about how this is possible considering he’s a ghost, you don’t question it, you just greedily take everything he has to give you. His hand caresses your cheek and he whispers a quiet that’s my good girl before slumping down on the couch in front of you, simply observing as his friend rams his cock into you. 

Chifuyu had gone a little slower while Baji was fucking your throat but now that you mouth was free, he was hoping to hear your pretty little moans again. Now his hands cradle through your hair, and he pulls you up, angling you impossibly close to him, pistoning his hips just the right way so his long cock hits that spot that makes you see white. 

His pace picks up and the praise is replaced with curses. He’s so lost in the feeling of you he almost doesn't notice Baji closing the distance between them and slotting his lips against his. His hips falter for a second, his brain processing what’s happening but his lips respond before his brain can. One hand is holding your hip, as his hips slow down their movement, his other hand cupping his friend's cheek as he kisses him back with so much love, so many unsaid words finally making their way to Baji. 

You can’t see them, but you can hear Chifuyu moan into the taller man’s mouth. It’s shaky, and breathy, almost as if he’s tearing up. Baji’s name is like a mantra on his lips, a plea, a promise. You crave to turn your head and catch even just a glimpse, but you decide against it, not wanting to intrude on the raw and intimate moment between them. 

“Baji...”

“I know. Me too.” 

That’s all the response Keisuke gives as he steals another kiss from his friend and gently nudges his hips in a hint to keep fucking you. So he does, hips gaining back their speed in no time, and you mewl under him, completely dazed from the pleasure. Warm hands sneak down your sides, and his deft fingers find your clit to once more rub tight circles against the sensitive nub, sending waves of pleasure over you. 

“Fuck I can’t move if you clamp around my dick like that, kitten, f-fuck… are you gonna cream all over my cock?” 

He’s bent forward, whispering in your ear each word punctuated with a grunt or a pant. He’s also close but he needs to make you cum first. He needs to feel you cream on him even if it’s the last thing he does. So he staves off his own orgasm in favor of yours, nibbling on your earlobe and whispering filth into your ear, practically begging you to let him feel you come undone for him. 

It doesn’t take long for the coil in your stomach to finally snap, a second orgasm crashing over you and bringing you to high heaven. He doesn’t stop moving, fucking you through your high and the sheer tightness of your cunt as your walls spasm around him is what pushed him over the finish line. With a loud groan his hips lose their rhythm and he paints your insides white with his hot seed, staying sheathed deep inside you in order to keep all of his cum in you. 

Fuck, you feel like you’re on cloud nine, basking in the glory of your orgasm but not for long. As soon as Chifuyu pulls out of you, Baji’s mouth is on your pussy again, lapping away at your folds. You squirm but he holds you tightly in place, dragging the cum from your pussy to your ass, tongue teasingly circling around your puckered hole. 

“B-Baji, no.. you can’t, not the—” 

You’re cut off by Chifuyu crouching down next to the couch and kissing you again. You don’t have time to protest, honestly maybe you don’t even want to protest because Baji’s tongue feels sinfully good against your ass. The green-eyed man barely gives you time to breathe, lips moving hungrily against yours. It’s sloppy, a mess of teeth clashing and tongues moving against each other. He swallows every sweet moan you have to offer while his fingers tweak and twist your nipples. Baji on the other hand is slowly working your ass open, first only with his tongue, the slick muscle pushing past the thigh hole, coating you with spit and cum mixed together. 

His tongue is now replaced by two thick fingers slowly pumping in and out of your ass, making your toes curl and your head spin. You can barely remember how to breathe but you manage to beg for more. To beg for him to go faster, to add more fingers. And he is fascinated by how wicked you are, how pliant and needy, how can he refuse you? He gives you more until you’re sufficiently prepped. 

With a slap to your ass Baji announces his work is done, and they once again switch with the other man. Chifuyu pulls you onto his lap, your back flush against his chest, and his cock, once again hard and ready for you, is prodding at your ass. Baji runs a finger through your folds, gathering your slick and cum and using it to lube Fuyu’s cock, stroking his length slowly, teasingly. Suddenly he spits into your cunt, and the obscenity of it all makes you clench around nothing. You want them, you want them so bad. 

His spit dribbles down your ass, and Fuyu spreads it against your tighter hole, slowly pushing past the muscle. All the prep you received wasn’t enough though, the stretch is burning and bringing tears to your eyes but you know it’ll feel good, you know they’ll make you feel so good, so you bear with it. Baji takes pity on you and bends down to give soft kitten licks to your puffy clit, teasing you and coaxing you to relax, and you do. 

Soon Chifuyu is fully sheathed inside your ass, his fingers leaving bruises on your hips from the tight grip he has on you. Now it was Baji’s turn and you already feel so full you have no idea how you’re going to fit Baji’s thick cock inside you too. As if he can read your mind, he speaks to you softly. 

“Don’t you worry pretty girl, you can take us both, I know you can.” 

He kisses you so fucking gently as his thick cockhead pushes past your entrance, you could just cry. His soft kisses distract you from the burn of the stretch, Chifuyu’s gentle voice in your ear reminding you how good you’re doing, how well you’re taking them.

Finally, finally they’re both inside you and you feel complete. They give you a little time to properly adjust before they both move in and out of you, somehow completely synchronized and in rhythm. God, it feels so fucking good. Your whole body is on fire and you can’t stop the loud moans coming from you, mixing in with theirs. Every time they move inside of you they can feel their cocks rub against each other between your fluttering walls. 

You’re spread open and speared down on both their cocks, now moving fast and hard out of you, and you feel like you’ll explode. Your orgasm approaches, but it feels different, more powerful. You barely have time to warn them, but they keep drilling their hips inside you, battering your insides and hitting all those good spots that make you forget your own name. It builds so fast inside you, the feeling consuming you, and you don’t remember how to breathe. 

Then it hits you. You cum so hard, spasming around their hard cocks and there’s liquid squirting out of your pretty cunt. They’re both stunned, the sight rendering them speechless and motionless. When the initial shock is over it turns them fucking feral. Both are now brutally fucking you, Baji’s practically fucking into your cervix, narrowing down on that spot that makes your eyes roll back, and Chifuyu is biting and marking you again, cock sliding in and out of your ass with no resistance. 

They both know what they want, they want to make you come undone like that one more fucking time. You’re so fucked out; if they weren’t holding you so tightly you would topple over them. You babble incoherently against their skin, begging without knowing what for, but they don’t disappoint, they give you everything. 

The two men kiss once again, hips not faltering once as they bring you to yet another Earth-shattering orgasm, and you squirt again. 

They both know you’re at your limit, so they chase their own orgasms, both cumming almost simultaneously and filling your holes with their seeds. When they pull out, a  copious amount of cum leaks out of your abused holes. Their eyes rake over your body, as if memorizing every curve and dip of your body, the way their cum is leaking down your thighs and soiling the cushions on the couch. 

You’re so spent and tired, you don’t even realize they’ve picked you up and brought you to the bathroom. You vaguely hear water running and assume they’re running a warm bath for you. You’re still in a daze when they wash you, gentle hands caressing your skin and massaging the sore muscles. You just let them take care of you, it’s not like you have the strength to protest anyway. 

They wrap you in blankets and kiss you every chance they get, on your cheeks, nose, lips, temples, everywhere. Someone’s hands are on you at all times, even as they struggle to get you dressed in some warm soft clothes, clumsily pulling the oversized sweater over your head. Then you’re carried back to the bed, where you find yourself between the two of them, tightly wrapped in a warm embrace and you finally allow yourself to really sleep as they quietly watch over you.

3:33AM

You stir in your sleep and feel a hand stroking your cheek. You blink slowly at Baji, who is slightly hunched over you, smiling lovingly. 

“Hey, what’s up? Where are you going?” you whisper.

“I think I’m ready…” 

The sentence knocks the air out of your lungs and suddenly you feel cold. You look up at him, pleading even though you know you don’t have the right to. 

“But, Ba-”

“Keisuke. Call me Keisuke. Plus, I already said my goodbye to him.” He looks over at Chifuyu’s sleeping frame and smiles, but there is a tinge of sadness behind his smile. “Take good care of him for me, yea? I trust you.” 

You’re graced by another one of his fanged smiles, but that doesn’t stop the tears from streaming down your face. His gentle voice doesn’t help with the feeling that’s piercing your chest, sitting in your heart like broken glass. 

“I can’t say goodbye to him again. So, I’m burdening you to tell him. Tell him I’ll be thinking of him wherever I end up. I’ll be thinking of you, too.” 

Another peck to your lips. Another tear rolling down your cheeks. 

You should be happy for him, that he’s able to go on. That he doesn’t have to be stuck here anymore, being nothing more than an observer as life passes by and his friends grow old. 

“Don’t cry sweetheart… You gave me such a precious gift, allowing me to say goodbye, to hug him one more time. To feel you, taste you. I’m the luckiest man alive... Or, wait. Luckiest ghost stuck in this plane of existence?” 

His little joke makes you give a watery laugh. You don’t dare speak because your voice will give out. 

“Don’t cry angel, no point in spilling tears over the dead.” 

As he speaks you notice he’s starting to fade away. You reach up to him, but you can’t touch him anymore, and the realization brings even more tears to your eyes. Your lips tremble, but no words come out as he reaches for you. 

All your life you’ve been in contact with lost spirits, and each time they passed through you it would feel devastatingly cold. But now it feels warm. 

The last thing you see is his smile.

Your crying is enough to wake Chifuyu. His arms quickly wrap around you and pull you close. You can hear the worry in his voice as he asks what happened, but you can’t reply. 

You can’t speak the words.

But he knows. He sighs deeply and kisses your temple, reassuring you that it’s okay. That he knew this was coming.

“He loves you.”

“I know.” 

He holds you close, fingers intertwined with yours. You listen to his heartbeat. He pets your hair and places butterfly kisses down your shoulder. 

“I’m glad I met you. I hope you’ll stay.” 

Every ending is a new beginning. 

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.

all rights reserved © by maliciouslove. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.

#unholytext.exe #baji smut #chifuyu smut #baji x reader #chifuyu x reader #baji x reader x chifuyu #chifuyu x reader x baji #baji #baji keisuke #baji keisuke smut #chifuyu #chifuyu matsuno #chifuyu matsuno smut #baji keisuke x reader #chifuyu matsuno x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tr smut #poly tokyo revengers #cw.anal #cw.pet names #cw.spit #cw.creampie #cw.overstimulation #cw.threesome #cw.double penetration

[bcofl0ve]

I'm new here so sorry if you've talked about it before, but what's the tea between Austin and Olivia deJonge? a while ago I heard someone say that they had something during the filming of Elvis but that they are no longer close and don't follow each other on Instagram. they also said that Austin was unfaithful to Vanessa with her, but tbh I don't give these rumors about celebrities cheating much credibility unless they are 100% confirmed 😅 thanks!!

oh, my sweet summer child…*pats your head*. this has become a veryyy contentious topic on my blog so i don’t talk about it much anymore but since you’re a new fan looking for info, as was i once, i will do one Final brain dump about it.

he still follows her and her finstas that i don’t think she uses anymore lol, but yes olivia unfollowed him in september. something that is funny (at least to me) within the context that said unfollow was when she went out with sophie turner and taylor swift. like…what did blondie say that pushed you ever the edge girl LOL. then little miss instagram anxiety unfollowed 100 random accounts the next day trying to pretend it wasn’t selective.

this is also a little contentious because there isn’t proof proof in the form of like kissing photos or something (just beach pap photos from nov 2020 where they aren’t touching each other haha). but in my humble opinion they were involved during filming.

timeline gets a little messy at the start, but i do think re: some late december early january gossip about him being seen with olivia that austin and v were broken up a hot minute before it came out publicly on jan 14th 2020 so 🤷🏼‍♀️. don’t think it was some big affair. they were def broken up before jan 2nd, a day that will leave in infamy lmfao. olivia posted a photo in austin’s shirt, which v fans clocked immediately bc he’d wore in it on vacation with v. and this was jan 2nd, two weeks before the breakup went public. i wasn’t in the fandom for this, but as ive been told it was a real mess. olivia went private briefly, deleted the pics, asked the society fans to take the photos down and it was the beginning of instagram becoming the seemingly anxiety inducing thing for that that it is now.

(ex: after the oscars last year she posted some elvis filming throwbacks on her story as a nice little end of the era thing. one of her and austin she wrote ‘so proud 🥀 @austinbutler’ on. she then deleted that story, reposted it, deleted it again, and reposted it without the text.)

and i mean yeah- big (probably intentional) goof on her part with the shirt thing. but idk. she was 21 at the time, and i’m willing to give 21 year olds a little girl what are you doing grace.

whatever happened between her and austin, the most she’s done re ‘shade’ is liking a comment someone left on her page saying she deserved better when he was seen with lily rose and something got sent to deuxmoi that said he’d cheated on her (imo he didn’t. she was just hurt bc seeing him move on stung, or maybe the door that should have been fully shut wasn’t. lily was august 2021, he left australia march 2021)- and hanging out with v a handful of times mid 2022 (though she herself never posted about it, it was either other people or paps).

a lot of people on here reallyyyy don’t like her, but i’m a fan so that’s my girl. i have a real big soft spot for her, and a while ago when a friend of mine in the fandom at the time told me ‘oh the internet wasn’t nice to her at all’ in the months after the shirt debacle it really hurt my heart.

even with a little smidgeee of shade as explained above ^ i think she’s handled whatever maybe not so positive feelings she has towards him reasonably. they seemed to get a long just fine and happy during elvis press- esp so in toronto which my fav interviews of the two of them are from bc that press tour stop was just them and baz. she’s never said a negative world about him publicly, and i doubt she ever will. the most candid she’s ever been about elvis filming was an interview earlier this year where she said she did ‘a lot of growing up on that job’ and that she sees her life as before and after elvis. i think that’s the most “deep” she’ll ever go down that road, at least for a long while.

between her unfollowing him in sept, turning off her tagged photos in feburary. and recently deleting a comment v left on a post of hers within 30 seconds (i presume bc she knew just like we did that v was doing that for drama/attention, it was right after austin’s esquire interview where he briefly, respectfully talked about her), i think she’s genuinely trying to move on with her life. which can be hard! i never get over anyone! and if my personal read is right that she was a mix between a rebound and the priscilla to his elvis when he was really living in that man’s head that’s even more of an idk…niche heartbreak to have to wrestle with? whether the other party actually did anything wrong or not. i don’t think austin did anything to her or broke her heart with any malicious intent at all. none of the olivia/austin stuff changes how i see him as a fan. he’s a complex human, olivia is a complex human. that’s the gist.

#sorry for the essay LOL #lots of thoughts #lots of lore

[fuck-your-proana-blog]

Hi,

I’m really happy to come across your page and bringing awareness and learning your bio pinned up.

I came across one of your posts talking about pro-ana. I had an account on here around 2016, and I remember getting messages from a girl who was about 2 years younger than me. She asked me if I could help her starve herself to reach her goal. But I refused and told her she shouldn’t be doing this. She didn’t like the response I gave and started calling me fake and many hateful words. So after that, I decided to delete my Tumblr account because you never know who seeing these posts, especially someone super young. I’ve never in my life would want to help someone go through the same struggle I went through.

I’ve been though recovery for about 5-years now, although it’s been 5 years and going through treatments and group therapy. While I was there, I thought my ed would go away and I would forget about it. I’ve realize we can’t burn those memories and till this day I still struggle with my ed thoughts. But what I can do is not let those thoughts fuck with me again.

I'm now back on Tumblr after a long time and now posting and reposting this for the better and things I'm interested in!

Again, thank you for spreading awareness and I'm so proud that you are here now ❤️

Thank you for this kind message; when I had a pro ana blog I thought I wasn't harming anyone but myself because I didn't use tags and stuff like that; never posted body checks or calorie counts/exercise routines, "ana diets," etc, but one day a 15 year old follower of mine asked me to be her "ana buddy" because I reached such a low "goal weight" and she wanted to be as thin as me. I cried my ass off, hating that me and my blog made other people suffer because of my ignorance to the harm I was doing. I told her to get help and deleted my blog the same day(back in 2011). I then started my main blog and anti pro ana blog, which feature my struggles throughout the years in a non-promotional way while encouraging recovery to everyone. I've been in and out in recovery since 2012. You're right- the thoughts never really go away. I'm working with my psychiatrist, trauma therapist, and a full team of varied physical doctors and treatments to try and get my mind and body in a better place since 13 years of Anorexia has caused me so much harm. That's why I call out pro anas and report when I can, because even if they don't use tags or suggest starving to others it's still harmful for other to come across, especially young people because the algorithm will promote your blog to others even if you don't. There used to be a much bigger "anti pro ana community" on here, but most have left- I'm hoping because they're taking better care of themselves. Taking a break from Tumblr when you used it to fuel your ED is always a good idea on recovery, especially at first. I'm proud of you too; keep up the great work!

[green-blooded]

I wrote this analysis of the DS9 episode The Wire 7 years ago (gosh time really does keep going doesn’t it)... And I’m still pretty proud of it, actually, so I wanted to save it from my old, inactive blog and repost it here. Please enjoy these 4,000+ words of me gushing about Garak and Bashir.

DUTY, FRIENDSHIP, AND LIES IN THE WIRE (DS9 2X22)

The Wire is one of my favorite episodes of DS9, and honestly one of my favorite episodes of anything. I see something new in it every time I watch it, and it always impacts me emotionally. So, I want to talk about it. This is going to be a very, very long post.

The episode is book-ended (no pun intended) with Garak sharing a piece of Cardassian literature with Bashir. In the opening scene, the argument between them about the Neverending Sacrifice serves to set a few thematic elements. Most apparent is a tension about Cardassian culture vs. Federation(/Human) culture, which Garak snaps at Bashir about more than once.

BASHIR: None of his characters ever really come alive, and there’s more to life than duty to the state. 

GARAK: A Federation viewpoint if ever I heard one. 

[…]

GARAK:When it comes to art, you’re obviously a prisoner of Federation dogma and Human prejudice.

Bashir also says that Cardassian standards for health must be lower than his own, and he also brings up Garak’s “Cardassian evasiveness” in the next scene.

So, the main cultural conflict brought up here is that Cardassians have a duty to the state above the individual, whereas Bashir holds the position that the individual is more important. That is, after all, why he didn’t like the Neverending Sacrifice; not the repetitiveness of it (epics written by Humans tend to be repetitive too), but because the characters never “come alive”, i.e. each generation has the same motivation and no individuality.

Bashir comes into conflict with Odo about their duties as well.

BASHIR: I’m afraid your questions will have to wait. 

ODO: How long? 

BASHIR: I don’t know yet. Constable, Garak’s body has undergone a severe shock. I don’t know when he’ll recover. I’m not even sure if he’ll recover. 

ODO: In that case I want to talk to him now. Wake him up. 

BASHIR: I’ll do no such thing. 

ODO: Doctor, these are murder cases and Garak may be a suspect. 

BASHIR: That may be so, but he’s still my patient and I won’t have him disturbed.

Bashir’s idea of duty is duty to the individual–not to the state and not to justice. So, when Garak is sick, Bashir heals him, because it is Bashir’s duty to do so regardless of what anyone else wants, including Garak himself. During a short scene with Dax, Bashir does try to eschew his duty briefly, before it becomes clear how serious Garak’s illness is.

BASHIR: Garak and I have been having lunch together once a week for more than a year now. You’d think he’d come to trust me a little. 

DAX: Why should he? It’s not like you two are really friends. 

BASHIR: No, of course not. I suppose when it comes right down to it, I don’t trust him either. I mean, for all I know, the man is a Cardassian spy. 

DAX: Exactly. 

BASHIR: Exactly. If he doesn’t want my help, that’s his prerogative.

Bashir’s reasoning here is interesting. He says that he would expect Garak to trust him, and everything in Bashir’s two previous onscreen interactions with Garak would lead the viewer to believe that Bashir trusts Garak to some extent. Hell, in Cardassians when Garak shows up in his room in the middle of the night, Bashir hardly even seems disconcerted by it, and immediately jumps on a runabout to Bajor with him. That seems to reflect some iota of trust. Also, eating lunch with someone every week and staying up late to finish a book then loaned you–a book which you don’t even enjoy!–seemes to be a sign of friendship, but when Dax says they aren’t friends, Bashir laughs at the idea. It should be noted, however, that he can’t maintain eye contact with Dax when he says this and has to look away.

We see some underlying anger/frustration as well when he stabs Jadzia’s sick plant.

He also connects Garak being a possible spy to the reason he doesn’t trust Garak or consider him a friend. No, not just a spy, a Cardassian spy. It’s been made clear in the series up to this point that there is prejudice against Cardassians on the station–understandably so given why the station exists in the first place. It’s also been made clear that Bashir wants to be liked by everyone, so I can’t help but wonder if he downplays his friendship with Garak to avoid the confrontations he might have with others, particularly Miles O'Brien, whom he works at being friends with particularly hard and who has a particular hatred of Cardassians. Note that he never tells O'Brien why he’s asking for access to Cardassian medical files, only that two or three weeks is too long to wait for them.

On the other hand, a character who is much more friendly with Cardassians, Quark, knows that Bashir is the one to call when Garak is on his third bottle of kanar. Now you’d think that he’d call security. I mean, that’s the normal thing to do when someone is out of hand at a bar, but he calls Bashir. I don’t see any other reason he’d do this aside from knowing Bashir is Garak’s only friend on the station. So perhaps Bashir doesn’t hide his friendship with Garak as much around Quark, who wouldn’t think less of him for having a Cardassian friend.

However, in the end, Bashir only admits aloud that he is Garak’s friend to Tain

TAIN: I thought you were his friend. 

BASHIR: I suppose I am. 

(My opinion is that Bashir is not actively hiding that he and Garak are friends, but that he does it subconsciously, even hiding it from himself to an extent.)

In any case, it’s lucky that the one friend Garak has on the station is the chief medical officer, because it turns out he needs one of those. There’s a lot made out of the following exchange in which Bashir attempts to trick a drunk Garak into going to the infirmary.

BASHIR: I think it’s a little noisy in here. I prefer to drink somewhere quiet. 

GARAK: An excellent idea. We’ll go to my quarters. 

BASHIR: Whatever you want. But first I must make a stop at the Infirmary. 

GARAK: The Infirmary? My dear Doctor, what kind of fool do you take me for? 

This makes me curious about whether or not Bashir has ever been to Garak’s quarters. It seems to me that Bashir would’ve shown some amount of surprise at the invitation if he’d never been there before. Garak is a private person, so there is again more friendliness there than Bashir is ready to admit.

Bashir does end up in Garak’s quarters later on (and he doesn’t seem unfamiliar with the place), and learns more about Garak’s situation.

GARAK: My dear Doctor, I have no intention of putting myself on display for the amusement of the Bajoran inhabitants of this station. 

And later…

GARAK: Living on this station is torture for me, Doctor. The temperature is always too cold, the lights always too bright. Every Bajoran on the station looks at me with loathing and contempt. So one day I decided I couldn’t live with it anymore, and I took the pain away. 

It matters to Garak that he’s surrounded by Bajorans who hate him and want to see him in pain. Bashir calls it pride, which is probably part of it. Being hated itself can’t be what’s bothering him, because having been part of the Obsidian Order, he must be used to that. I would suggest that Garak’s love of his homeland is such that seeing the contempt from Bajorans, and knowing why they hate Cardassians so much, is where a majority of his stress is coming from.

Regardless, this is about the time Garak starts telling his stories about Elim. Let’s take this part of the conversation in pieces.

GARAK: Has it ever occurred to you that I might be getting exactly what I deserve? 

BASHIR: No one deserves this. 

GARAK: Oh, please, Doctor. I’m suffering enough without having to listen to your smug Federation sympathy. Do you think because we have lunch together once a week, you know me? You couldn’t even begin to fathom what I’m capable of.

Again, Garak brings up the fact that Bashir is Federation. We know a little of how the Cardassian legal system works at this point, and that punishment and unfailing justice are key for the Cardassian public. The Federation, on the other hand, does the whole innocent until proven guilty thing. Garak knows that, and so he comes up with a story that will prove he’s guilty.

BASHIR: I’m a doctor. You’re my patient. That’s all I need to know. 

GARAK: Wrong again. You need to know who you’re trying to save. During the occupation, I was a Gul in the Cardassian Mechanized Infantry. We were stationed just outside the Bajoran Capital. Shortly before the withdrawal, a handful of Bajoran prisoners escaped from my custody. My aide, a man named Elim, tracked them to a Cardassian shuttle about to depart for Terok Nor. Elim got aboard, but the captain refused to let him search the ship, because he claimed he was under strict orders from Gul Dukat to depart immediately. So I had the shuttle destroyed, killing the escapees, Elim, and ninety seven Cardassian civilians. 

Bashir reaffirms that his duty is to heal the individual, not to be concenred with any bigger picture, and so Garak tells Bashir a crime that seems tailor made (ha ha) to drive Bashir away. He killed 97 of his own people for a reason he must know is not one that Bashir would accept. Bashir made clear at the very beginning of this episode that he didn’t believe in living for nothing but duty to the state, and so Garak tells him a story in which he acts on orders alone, as he says…

BASHIR: You can’t be serious. 

GARAK: I followed my orders. None of those prisoners escaped off of Bajor alive. Unfortunately as it turned out, one of the passengers on the shuttle was the daughter of a prominent military official. I was stripped of my rank and commission, and exiled from Cardassia. So now you know, Doctor. I hope I haven’t shattered too many of your illusions. 

Not only does the story paint Garak as someone who mindlessly follows orders, but the reason for his exile is dull. It’s purely politics. It’s not the kind of thing that Bashir could romanticize the way he romanticizes the idea of Garak being a spy. From Garak’s point of view, there is nothing that Bashir should still be holding onto as a reason to save his life. The story doesn’t matter, though. Not when it comes to Bashir’s duty.

Also notice that, for a moment after Garak finishes the story, neither of them are able to look at each other until Bashir tells Garak to listen to him.

BASHIR: Listen to me, Garak. Right now I’m not concerned with what you did in the past. I’m simply not going to walk out of here and let you die.

Garak gives in at that point, and his withdrawal from the endorphins begins. We’ve seen Garak in pain and frustrated, but we don’t see him angry until this point. When he wakes up, Bashir goes over to him and sits next to him.

BASHIR: Garak? 

GARAK: Leave me alone. 

BASHIR: I don’t think that would be a good idea right now. Your blood chemistry is severely imbalanced. You need to rest. 

GARAK: Don’t touch me. 

BASHIR: Just calm down.

GARAK: I don’t want to be calm, Doctor. I’ve been calm long enough. Look at this place. It’s pathetic. To think that this is what my life has been reduced to. This sterile shell, this prison. 

Garak is pushing Bashir away at this point, telling him to get away from him more forcefully than he ever has. You can see the violence building right away, and you can tell it’s not going to go well as soon as he knocks down the vase. This violent act is connected to his line about “This sterile shell, this prison.” His phrasing is curious. What, exactly, does he consider sterile? The station is a Cardassian-built station. Sure, there have been some changes as far as temperature and lighting, but everything else is stll pretty much Cardassian–just compare the way DS9 looks compared to the Enterprise. What about it is sterile compared to wherever he would live on Cardassia? Perhaps it’s living on a station rather than on land. Perhaps he means in a figurative way, as in the sterile ethics of the Federation as opposed to the… shall we say challenging ethics of the Obsidian Order.

Moving on, in the midst of trying so hard to push Bashir away, Garak revises his story.

GARAK: Stop them? I only wish that I had stopped them. 

BASHIR: You didn’t? 

GARAK: No, Doctor, my disgrace was worse than that. Unimaginably worse. 

BASHIR: What could you have possibly done worse than that? 

GARAK: I let them go. It was the eve of the Cardassian withdrawal. Elim and I were interrogating five Bajorans. They were children, Doctor. None of them were older than fourteen years old. They knew nothing. They lived in bombed-out rooms, scrounged for food on the streets. They were filthy and they stank. The room was freezing cold, the air was like ice, and suddenly the whole exercise seemed utterly meaningless. All I wanted was a hot bath and a good meal. So I let them go. I gave them whatever latinum I had in my pockets, and opened the door, and flung them back into the street. Elim couldn’t believe his eyes. He looked at me as if I were insane.

BASHIR: You took pity on those children. There’s nothing wrong with that. 

GARAK: No! I was a fool! I should’ve finished the interrogation and turned them over to the troops for execution. But because I was chilly and my stomach was growling, I failed in my duty and destroyed everything I had worked for. 

The revision to the story at first seems peculiar. At the moment when he seems to want Bashir to leave him alone the most, he tells a much more sympathetic story, which is far more likely to tug on his Federation heartstrings.

But the story isn’t about Garak, it’s about Bashir.

There are a few parallels in this story to the events of the episode. Garak mentions being cold, which is also something he said was a problem on the station. He also says that the “exercise seemed utterly meaningless”–that is, his duty to the state seemed useless. Because he no longer felt that loyalty to the state in that moment, he saved the lives of the Bajoran children, and ruined his own life.

Garak is, in his way, warning Bashir off. In this story, Garak has mercy on some pathetic Bajorans, and he suffers for it. The message, or one of the messages, is that Bashir will suffer for his own mercy on Garak.

The warning doesn’t work.

GARAK: And left me to live out my days with nothing to look forward to but having lunch with you. 

BASHIR: I’m sorry you feel that way. I thought you enjoyed my company. 

GARAK: I did. And that’s the worst part. I can’t believe that I actually enjoyed eating mediocre food and staring into at your smug, sanctimonious face. I hate this place and I hate you. 

It’s hard to miss (unless you’re Bashir apparently) that Garak says the only thing he has to look forward to is his lunches with Bashir, which are only once per week. (Also that he was staring into his face, but I’ll leave that be for this post.) Smug is a callback to “smug Federation sympathy” at the beginning of the episode. So, when he calls his face smug here, he’s referring to two things–that he’s Federation rather than Cardassian, and that he’s showing him sympathy. So, yeah, there are some layers here. Garak has nothing else going on in his life that he enjoys except spending time with Bashir, even after he started the endorphins (which appears to be before or around the same time that they met). At the same time, Bashir is part of a Federation with which Garak has little in common. Bashir, although he’s more open minded than others in some ways, strongly believes that his set of morals and beliefs are correct, and judges Garak by those standards. Of course, Garak does that right back toward Bashir, but Garak doesn’t have the support of other Cardassians to reassure him the way Bashir has other Starfleet officers. Spending so much time with Bashir, and enjoying it, is another step away from Cardassia and his Cardassian identity. For someone who has justified a lot of bad things he’s done by calling himself a patriot and a true believer in the superiority of Cardassia, that little step must be terrifying. Bashir makes him question things he doesn’t want to question.

So, he finally attacks Bashir, finally showing a pure and intense emotion without any artifice between himself and Bashir, before having another seizure and ending up in the infirmary where he will tell the third story.

But first.

GARAK: I won’t allow it. I never want that thing turned on again. 

BASHIR: I understand how you feel, but I’m not sure what else I can do for you. 

GARAK: You’ve done enough, Doctor. More than I deserve. There’s something you have to know. 

BASHIR: What’s that? 

GARAK: The truth. 

BASHIR: I’ve about given up on learning the truth from you, Garak. 

GARAK: Don’t give up on me now, Doctor.

This is the second time Garak has mentioned not deserving Bashir’s help, but he’s finally stopped pushing Bashir away. Andrew Robinson’s delivery of that last line is intense, probably even more emotionally honest than the physical attack, because this is an emotion for Bashir, and his anger was only projected onto Bashir.

And so, here comes the story.

GARAK: Now listen carefully. Elim wasn’t my aide. He was my friend. We grew up together. We were closer than brothers. For some reason, Enabran Tain took a liking to us. Before long, we were both powerful men in the Obsidian Order. They called us the Sons of Tain. Even the Guls feared us. And then there was a scandal. Someone in the Order was accused of letting some Bajoran prisoners escape. There were constant rumors of who was going to be implicated. Fingers were being pointed at me. By then Tain had retired to the Arawath Colony. He couldn’t protect me, so I panicked. I did everything in my power to make sure that Elim was accused instead of me. I altered records, planted evidence, only to discover that he’d beaten me to it. 

BASHIR: He betrayed you first? 

GARAK: Elim destroyed me. Before I knew what was going on, I was sentenced to exile. And the irony is, I deserved it. Oh, not for the reasons they claimed, but because of what I had tried to do to Elim, my best friend.

Obviously there are a few things in this story that we know are true-ish after watching the rest of the series. Garak was in the Obsidian Order, and he’s the son of Tain.

It’s also true that Tain is in the Arawath Colony–which is part of the reason Garak’s telling the story. It’s not exactly that he wants to be saved, but that he knows Bashir wants so badly to save him. Tain points out that saving Garak’s life is not kind, and instead is prolonging his punishment (i.e. his exile). Obviously Bashir doesn’t agree, but Garak certainly seems to. So, he doesn’t say it directly, but he does say it.

There’s more to the story than giving Bashir the key to finding Garak’s cure, though. This revision makes the story nearly unrecognizable. It’s no longer about trying to get Bashir away from him, either by trying to revolt him with his horrible crimes, or to show him the downsides of mercy. This time, he’s appologizing and acknowledging their friendship in a very Garak sort of way. He doesn’t directly call Bashir a friend, but the story shows he treasures friendship, and that betraying a friend is a crime worthy of the worst kind of punishment. And, as you might do after an apology, he asks for forgiveness.

BASHIR: Why are you telling me this, Garak? 

GARAK: So that you can forgive me. Why else? I need to know that someone forgives me. 

BASHIR: I forgive you for whatever it is you did. 

GARAK: Thank you, Doctor. That’s most kind. 

Considering that Garak has said multiple times that he deserves the punishment he’s received, the exile, the pain, and perhaps death, it’s clear that he doesn’t forgive himself. It’s also clear that Bashir is the only one who could give such an open-ended forgiveness and be believed. He’s proven it throughout the ordeal. No matter how hard Garak tried to push him away, Bashir was there for him, not only to help him recover physically but to listen to him, and believing him every time even though he knows Garak lies.

I’ve seen some imply that Garak and Bashir’s friendship shouldn’t work because Bashir is so naive, but Garak doesn’t need someone as cunning as he is. He doesn’t need someone with the same values as he has. He doesn’t need someone who will enjoy Cardassian literature. He needs someone who is willing to listen to him and talk with him. And whether he likes it or not, if anything their cultural differences help them engage with each other, because they’re both willing to hear the other person’s side… even if they’re not willing to admit that they agree with any of it.

Once Garak is healed, we see them return to their routine of the weekly lunch and their cultural exchange. Garak gives Bashir another bit of Cardassian literature which might be more to his taste. Bashir will read it, as evidenced by him not wanting the ending ruined, just as he read the Neverending Sacrifice. The episode ends with one of Garak’s most famous lines.

BASHIR: You know, I still have a lot of questions to ask you about your past. 

GARAK: I’ve given you all the answers I’m capable of. 

BASHIR: You gave me answers, all right, but they were all different. What I want to know is of all the stories you told me, which ones were true and which ones weren’t? 

GARAK: My dear Doctor, they’re all true. 

BASHIR: Even the lies? 

GARAK: Especially the lies.

Why especially the lies? It’s more than a clever turn of phrase. Tain says that Garak “never tells the truth when a lie will do.” As much as this episode focuses on the friendship between Garak and Bashir, they spend very little time expressing anything to each other directly. Bashir shows that he cares by healing Garak and forgiving him, but he hardly says anything directly to Garak. He doesn’t say that he doesn’t want him to die, only that he won’t let him. In a lot of ways, Bashir is as emotionally closed off as Garak is, and it’s only the extreme pain that Garak’s in that allows him to express anything toward Bashir.

Garak tells the lies because if he expresses his guilt about what he did for the Obsidian Order, that would undermine his belief in duty to the state above all else. If he expresses his fondness for Bashir, it’s making a connection with someone who isn’t a Cardassian. He has to tell his forbidden thoughts through lies which fit the narrative of Cardassian ethics–through storytelling. The exchange of literature framing this episode is not incidental. Bashir listens to Cardassian fiction every time he sits down to lunch with Garak, because they’re stories that Garak needs to tell to get to the truth.

#ds9 #star trek #garak #bashir #garashir #st ds9 #star trek ds9 #deep space nine #julian bashir #elim garak

[stuff-and-fluffs]

another old-post repost day because my thumb hurts and i can’t really type that fast without my precious thumb :(

requests open! feel free to drop any thoughts <3

“kiss me if i’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?”

tsukishima, oikawa (but aliens), kuroo, iwaizumi (but godzilla), bokuto, asahi (after noya and suga convinced him to), goshiki (he feels very proud of this, please let him have this satisfaction)

repost from my old blog! please do not plagiarize!

#s&f works #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x gn reader #haikyuu x gn!reader #haikyuu x self insert #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu x you #tsukishima #tsukki #oikawa #kuroo #iwaizumi #bokuto #asahi #goshiki #tsukki fluff #oikawa fluff #tsukishima fluff #kuroo fluff #iwaizumi fluff #bokuto fluff #asahi fluff

[dreamydroid]

Pew pew

#reposting this from my old blog because i’m still really proud of it #marshal commander cody #commander cody #tcw #tcw art #commander cody art #my art

[diaphobic]

Please Read, especially the last part.

Honestly this has been making me rather uncomfortable for quite some time now. There’s a creator known as @dialovers-lover-xoxo who has recently posted about crediting artist. Find the post I’m referring to HERE.

YES, always credit artists!!

Art is blurred out of respect for the artists!

While she says this, she has LOTS of art on her Instagram page (dialovers_lover_xoxo) that has been stolen or taken without permission.

Here are some examples.

No credit at all..??

This work belongs to @arakunae who very clearly states that permission needs to be granted before reposting.

This artists asks for NO REPOSTS the last time I checked.

And this art was something lanlan-der had reposted with PERMISSION.

There was WAY MORE ART without credit, but she deleted it all.

And some translations she reposted which @dialovers-translations specifically asked people not to repost :,)

ALSO BIG TW ! But this is VERY IMPORTANT TO KNOW

I will now add a few screenshots from dms I had with her back in May regarding her nsfw posts, to which she… well, yeah..

Yes, in hindsight I was a bit harsh with the wording.. however I was completely baffled and very disheartened that a large creator would say such a thing..

Also! I have no problems with 18+ NSFW writers who write for adults!

It really upsets me to have to make such a post like this. I genuinely hate fandom drama, however this is something that needs to be addressed. I should’ve said something sooner, and I’m sorry for not doing so.

I really don’t want to flood my blog with this. I’m not going to continue to reblog this.

NOTE THAT I HAVE HER AND THE OTHER PERSON WHO COMMENTED BLOCKED SO THEIR REPLIES WILL NOT SHOW. I think they blocked me too, idk. B

EDIT BECAUSE PEOPLE DO NOT GET WHAT I AM SAYING

I am saying she should not talk to minors about sexual things. She takes requests for nsfw reactions / smuts from kids. In the DM’s she is saying she is okay with writing NSFW for 13 year olds and says she is proud of their feedback :/ it’s fucked up. As someone said in their reblog, ‘why the hell would you want to write NSFW for kids.’ There’s nothing to be proud about that.

She only added the ‘read more’ and the excessive warnings AFTER I had asked her to months ago. She still promotes her nsfw content on her IG where 95% are have their ages in their bios and they’re underage.

She even admits to knowing what she does it illegal. Mind you she only recently turned 18.. so much of her content is from when she was underage herself.

#tw: fandom drama #fandom drama #tw #admin #important

[hajimine]

➵ HOW YOU COMFORT THEM WHEN THEY LOSE A GAME

a/n: this is a req from my old blog that i really liked so i’m doing another one but with different characters this time :] i love this concept sm bc our boys need our love and support as well :( they shouldn’t be the one giving all the time

characters: iwaizumi hajime, bokuto koutarou (yes, again <3), oikawa tooru, akaashi keiji

IWAIZUMI HAJIME ➞ his brows were furrowed and his mouth was pulled into a straight line, the frustration in his face clearly visible. he’s trying to avoid your gaze, and when you gently hold his face to get him to look at you, he clenched his jaw and balled his fists, glassy eyes betraying the tough-guy facade he’s trying so hard to maintain. “it’s not your fault,” you whisper, kissing the crease between his brows. you engulf him in a hug, gently holding his head against your chest, hoping that the steady beat of your heart can bring him some sense of peace and stability. “you did amazing in the game, hajime, one loss doesn’t reflect the entirety of your skills.” his fingers found their way to the hem of your shirt, and he grasps it tightly, almost as if he’s afraid that you’re going to leave. “you’re my ace, alright? i’m proud of you.” iwaizumi exhales loudly and melts into the hug, the tension in his shoulders slowly dissipating as you place a kiss on the crown of his head.

BOKUTO KOUTAROU ➞ he’s a mess. bokuto doesn’t even seem to notice that you’re currently standing just a few feet away from where he’s sitting. “kou?” you tried. no response. “baby,” you call out again, approaching him and carding your fingers through his already disheveled hair. “it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay. you’ll blast through them even more next time, kay? just like you always do.” he looks up at you with his lips downturned, and your heart hurts because of how broken he looks. “let’s go home, i’ll order your favorite food and we can cuddle ‘til you fall asleep, yeah?” you place your hands on his cheeks and smile at him, hoping that he can see how proud of him you are. you give him a kiss on the forehead, one on each eyelid, another on the tip of his nose, and one last one on the corner of his lips. he pulls you into a tight hug and buries his face in your stomach, breathing in your scent. and when he finally releases you from his embrace, the frown on his lips is still present, but his eyes shine a little bit brighter than it did a few moments ago.

OIKAWA TOORU ➞ he’s cheerful and bubbly and flirty, but everything is just so painfully fake. his smile doesn’t reach his eyes at all, and when he thinks no one is looking, you see him staring into the distance with an empty look in his eyes. “hey,” you walk towards him with intent, and before he could utter yet another cheery greeting, you poke him in the stomach, causing him to double over in pain. he whines dramatically, but you completely ignore him and clasp your fingers behind his neck, pulling him towards you so that the two of you were at eye level with each other. “stop pretending like you’re okay. you don’t have to wear a fake smile in front of me, i’m here for you, alright?” you pressed your forehead against his and watch as the practiced smile on his lips crumble, allowing you to see the person behind the mask—someone who’s tired and sad and angry; someone who has real and raw emotions. okay, he murmurs, voice cracking just a little bit. he squeezes his eyes shut and clings onto you, and the two of you stay there for a little while as he mimics your steady breathing to get himself to calm down.

AKAASHI KEIJI ➞ he’s quiet. sitting on the bench with his face buried in the palms of his hands, akaashi’s shoulders are hunched, as if he desperately wants to make himself look smaller. you sit next to him and places a hand on his lap, “keiji,” you whisper. you don’t offer him anything else; you don’t try to get him to talk because you know that’s not what he needs right now. the two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, and after a few moments, akaashi takes a deep breath and places his hand on top of yours, squeezing gently—an expression of gratitude. you can’t help but smile when he lays his head on your shoulder and laces his fingers in yours, “i love you,” you whisper. akaashi doesn’t answer immediately, but the way he places a gentle kiss on the back of your hand and how his lips linger on your skin for a moment too long speaks louder than those three words ever could. he might not be the most verbal of men, but he expresses his love and appreciation for you in more ways than one.

© HAJIMINE — all rights reserved. please do not repost, copy, translate, or claim any of my works as your own.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU LIKED IT! <3

masterlist ; requesting rules

original post (i hate the format im ngl)

#❀ —𝐁𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #haikyuu headcanons #iwaizumi fluff #bokuto fluff #oikawa fluff #akaashi fluff #hq x reader #iwaizumi headcanons #bokuto headcanons #oikawa headcanons #akaashi headcanons #hqhangoutnet #!iwaizumi #!bokuto #!oikawa #!akaashi

[yaku-soba]

in love with your love

༶•┈┈ general m.list 

༶•┈┈ kyoutani kentarou x gn!reader | fluff

tags/warnings: set in the second and third year of high school, getting together <3

word count: 1.36k

a/n: a repost frm my old blog; i’m sorry i disappeared again but i had family issues to sort through :”) hopefully i’m back for good now 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

Most people tend to look at Kentarou and stop there. 

It’s hard to explain, but he doesn’t think they see him, not really. They see his scowl, the angry pull of his brows, and immediately give him a wide berth. 

In high school, Kentarou spikes a ball into the court. It flattens, ricochets to thud against the walls of the gym. 

No one sees it. 

The volleyball guys in Seijoh see his dyed hair, the way he barks his words. They see bared teeth and say - look, there’s a mad dog. 

Kentarou walks out. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

He meets you in the spring of his second year. Seijoh has lost to Karasuno, and Kentarou’s just lost whatever he’d thought he could have had. 

(He’d tasted it. In those precious last minutes on the court, when he’d managed to bump the ball with the inside of his wrist in a miraculous save, he’d felt for a moment like he was part of a team. When he’d hit spike after spike, serve after serve, when Oikawa had set to him-

-He’d felt like they’d finally seen him.)

You bump into him in the hallway a few days after Spring High. When he looks down, a biting remark on his tongue, he’s greeted to the sight of you sprawled on the ground, clutching your head. Your papers flutter in the breeze, all butterfly wings, before settling messily on the floor. 

You let out a groan when you realize that the papers that had once been in your hands are now scattered over the ground, moving to pick them up. 

And Kentarou just - he just watches. He’s thrown off-centre - there’s been neither half-muttered snark nor apology. He’s not exactly proud of it, but he’s used to students muttering out a rushed apology without meeting his eyes, before running off with their things hastily gathered up. 

“Aren’t you going to help?” Your voice pulls him back to Seijoh, to a hallway identical to countless others on the compound. (But something has changed, something has shifted the world on its axis, just barely.)

You’re looking at him somewhat accusingly. “You weren’t looking where you were going, either,” you say when he doesn’t reply. 

“What?” He’s aware he’s probably scowling. There’s a small pang of regret at that realization. 

But you take no notice, already busying yourself with arranging the papers in some unknown order. “Come on, I’ve still got to hand in this lab report, you know.”

Dumbfounded, Kentarou squats, obediently picking up the pages of your lab report before he notices what he’s doing. 

(He sneaks a glance at your name and class. You’re a second-year too - from the class that’s right next to the stairs. He’s never seen you before.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

After that spring afternoon, he sees you around more. Perhaps you had always been there, on the periphery. 

You’re hardly ever alone, always with some classmate or other. 

He almost goes up to you - he doesn’t know exactly it is that he wants to say, only that he wants you to look at him.

(You do. You sneak glances at him out of the corner of your eye, as he brushes through the lunch crowd in the canteen to set his tray down angrily opposite Yahaba. You linger outside Seijoh’s gym, busying yourself with tying your laces, right outside of the open door to the gym.)

Third-year goes better. He ends up in your class, and as your seat-mate, no less.

Kentarou tries not to scowl as much.

He’s elated when he realizes you don’t care - you just laugh, pinching his cheeks teasingly in the way he despises but can’t quite come to resent.

(He likes the way you ruffle his dyed hair without hesitation. He likes the way you roll your eyes at his biting remarks.

Kentarou likes the way you look at him. He feels seen.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

Kentarou falls in love without really being aware of it.

By the time he does, it’s too late. He’s hooked on the pitch of your laugh and the dizzying curve of your lips in a teasing smirk. 

This is okay, he thinks. Kentarou’s never had something like this - all he’s ever had is volleyball and a hunger he can never really satiate. He thinks it’s enough that he gets to feel something like this, even if Yahaba won’t stop teasing him.

(He can’t quite keep himself from smiling a little more around you. You speak and he’ll lean in before he catches himself. He’s never been good with words and he doesn’t remember half the things you say - only that you wave your hands around animatedly as you talk, only the way your voice rises and ebbs with the story like a tide.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

“He clearly likes you back,” your friend whispers excitedly once Kyoutani has passed the both of you, waving at you casually before he turns to scowl at something Yahaba had said. “I don’t know why you’re holding yourself back.”

(You wish he’d follow up his muttered thank you with a kiss on the cheek whenever you hand him a bottle as you pop into the gym, just to see how he’s doing now that he’s back to training with the team. You want him to rest his hands on your hips and kiss you senseless against the door to your classroom, you want to tug on his tie and pretend you care about the fact that you’re supposed to be on cleanup duty.)

Sighing, you pick at your bento disinterestedly, “We’re graduating soon,” you reply tiredly, “and he’s probably going to go into professional volleyball.” Despite everything, you crack a small smile at that. 

“He loves volleyball. It’d be cruel to keep him from that.” You close the lid of your half-eaten bento. Your friend frowns but doesn’t argue. 

(You love Kyoutani. 

He loves volleyball, and that’s okay. You’ve made your peace with it.

Still, you’re not strong enough to keep yourself from the small, selfish things. You call out to him from behind the door to the gym and lean into him as you laugh, and let yourself pretend that it’s fondness you see in his eyes.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

It’s graduation by the time Kentarou realizes that you like him back, and it’s almost too late.

You’re standing before him, eyes downcast and cheeks the same shade of red as his palm after spiking drills, and you’re asking for the second button on his gakuran. The one closest to his heart, the one he hadn’t given to the girl who had asked him for it even before you had. 

(He sees the way your lashes stutter when he leans in. He remembers with sudden, newfound clarity, the way he sometimes catches you looking at him, all soft and shit.

Oh.)

Kentarou fumbles with his gakuran for a moment before he just rips the button out. 

“Here,” he says hoarsely, thrusting it out at you like he isn’t handing you his heart, “I was going to give it to you, anyway.”

He wasn’t. But that was before he’d realized exactly how blind he’s been, and he figures the details don’t really matter, not now. 

Kentarou’s lost all his chances without ever really trying, but you’re handing him a new one, and he’ll take it because all he’s ever had is volleyball and a hunger that had never quietened till he’d heard your voice. 

You smile, and he wonders how he’d ever thought it would be okay to leave without telling you.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

“Are you going away?” You ask as he walks you home that evening, after a dinner that you’re going to call a date, even if it’s only in your head. “For volleyball?”

His steps stutter. “Yeah,” he says after a pause, sounding strangled. “I’ll have to call my parents weekly, though.”

I can call you, he says with every brush of his knuckles against yours, I want to, if you want it too. 

“Guess I’ll have to sign up for international calls service, then,” you say lightly. I want it, I want this, I want you. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

a/n: feel free to send me an ask / dm if you’d like to be added to my general taglist!

as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated!! :D

#haikyuu x reader #kyoutani kentarou x reader #haikyuucreations #haikyuu!! #kyoutani kentarou #kyouka writes

[vivianweasley]

Pride and Prejudice (Prologue)

Summary: You are Draco’s cousin, and after the war, it was really difficult for you to find a job because of your last name. So your mother and Mrs. Weasley came up with a crazy idea. A fake marriage between you and Fred Weasley. 

Pairing: Fred Weasley X Malfoy!Fem!Reader

Warnings: arranged marriage, rejection letters, mention of workplace discrimination

Word count: 992

A/N: I’ve had this idea before I even started this blog, but I got scared to start another series. I don’t know if anyone would be interested, but message me if you want to be on the taglist of this series! Also, special thanks to @valwritesx for encouraging me to post this!

Disclaimer: all the pictures used in the header are from Pinterest. Credit goes to the owners.

Please do NOT repost or translate my work on another site without explicit permission! Thank you! Reblogs and comments are always welcome:)

Another rejection letter. 

It was sad to say, but you were already used to it. You graduated from Hogwarts two years ago, and you’ve applied for many different jobs, but the results were all the same.

A big part of the reason why they turned you down was simple. It was because the Malfoys had a reputation of being death eaters, even though your family was never part of it. 

A knocking on your door pulled you back from your pity party. Your mum came here to inform you that Mrs. Weasley has invited your family to dinner at the Weasley’s tonight.

You knew your family had been friends with the Weasleys for years. When you were little, you would often go and play at the Burrow with your family, but the dinner parties became something only the adults would participate in when you started school. So why were you also invited today?

“Is it gonna be a formal dinner?”

“Not really,” your mum smiled, but you found her smile weirdly suspicious, “but do wear something pretty.”

Something told you that this dinner wasn’t just a regular family friends gathering. Could it be that Mr. Weasley was going to help you find a job? Still having no idea what kind of dinner it would be, you slipped into your white dress, which was not too casual and not too formal.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley welcomed your family at the door. Stepping inside, you realized the inside of the Burrow has changed, but it still emitted the same warmth, just like you remembered. 

You soon realized someone else was sitting on the couch, doodling something on a scratch paper. You recognized that he was one of the twins, and Mrs.Weasley confirmed it by calling him Fred, so he must be the older twin. You knew there were seven kids in the Weasley family, so why was he the only one here?

The dinner seemed like a usual dinner between friends, but you could feel it in your guts that something was up. Finally, after your mum mentioned your unsuccessful attempts at finding a job, you got your answer.

“You know, dear, I know exactly how to solve that problem for you.” Mrs. Weasley smiled warmly at you, “It’s quite easy, actually. If you and Fred get married, you’ll be Y/N Weasley instead!”

You replied with a polite smile. You didn’t know that Mrs. Weasley had such a peculiar sense of humor, but oddly, she looked serious. And your parents looked serious, too.

You let out an awkward laugh, trying to diffuse the sudden seriousness in the air, “I’m sure it’s a great idea, but I just met him today. I don’t think we-”

“That’s not true! You two used to play together all the time when you were little!” Your mum interrupted you.

You looked at your mum all confused. What she was talking about was almost two decades ago. How could you still remember anything from it?

You glanced at Fred, finding it odd that he didn’t have anything to say about this. But he was looking down, probably not paying attention to all the craziness at the table.

“Fred, what do you say?” Mrs. Weasley saw you looking at Fred and asked the question for you.

“Yeah, sounds great.” He answered without even looking up. 

“Brilliant!” Your mum exclaimed, “You guys could get married tomorrow morning!” 

“The sooner, the better!” Mrs. Weasley cheered with her.

Fred finally looked up with his eyes widened, “Getting married? Who’s getting married??”

“You and Y/N, of course. After you two get married, she’ll be a Weasley too! So those shallow people won’t turn her down because of her last name!”

“No! That’s not happening!” Fred shook his head furiously, “If she wanted to be a Weasley, you could adopt her. I don’t mind having another sister.”

“Fred!” 

You kept your polite smile, but you have already rolled your eyes a hundred times in your mind. Like you would ever want to marry him! Yea, he was quite good looking, but he’s also an irresponsible and immature troublemaker. Even if you wanted to marry someone to get a job, Fred Weasley would be the absolute last option.

~

After the strange dinner, you finally confronted your parents when you got home, “Were you serious about that?”

“Y/N, dear, I thought it was a brilliant idea! The Weasleys are so kind, and they are our old friends.”

You realized your mum was so invested in this idea that she couldn’t hear anything opposing it anymore. You were suspecting that your mum already started planning to marry you to one of the Weasley boys since you were little. 

So you turned to your dad, who seemed slightly more rational on this matter. But he said, “Y/N, we know it’s unfair for you. This world is unfair, but now we’ve found a loophole! Besides, if you don’t like that boy, you can always divorce him after you get the job.”

Your mum glared at your dad, and she took your hand, “I think Fred is a brilliant young man! I heard that he opened his own shop when he was only seventeen, and it was a success!”

“Whatever, I just don’t like him.”

“Y/N, don’t be so proud.”

~

“Why is it me!” After your family left, Fred finally asked the question.

“Because you are the only one in this family who’s still single,” Molly answered without looking up from her dishes.

“Mum!” Fred protested, “Charlie is single, too!”

“Charlie is in Romania. It won’t look real if Y/N is so far away from her husband.”

“If I knew better, I would move to Romania, too,” Fred mumbled.

“Fred!”

“I heard that those old money families were very into arranged marriages. Guess they are just the same.”

Molly finally turned to face Fred and replied seriously, “Believe it or not, it was actually my idea! So put your prejudice away!”  

~

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2

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[starkerscoop]

A Blessing in Disguise

I am very excited to announce that this fic now has a Russian translation! I posted this in October on my old blog, and in honor of having a translation recently written for it, I’ve decided to repost it onto this one!

ao3  

Russian translation   

content warnings: discussion of abortion, issues with body image and self-esteem, pregnancy, non-graphic birth

-

Two red lines stared back at him, the image burning itself into his brain. A sudden wave of dizziness washed over him and he stumbled to the ground, too dazed to catch himself. He couldn’t believe that this was happening.

He was pregnant.

He was pregnant, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it, too disoriented at the moment to really tell. He was in his mid-twenties; in his prime and at the perfect age to start making pups, according to society.

But Peter didn’t think he was ready. Of course, the Omega in him had yearned quietly for pups ever since he started going through puberty, but Peter’s priority had always been to make a name for himself in science. He wanted to get his PhD and go on to make revolutionary discoveries; to pave the way for all Omegas and prove that his secondary gender couldn’t hold him back. For years, he’d been competing with Alphas, constantly trying to prove his worth. He couldn’t let all of that go down the drain for a pup.

There was Tony to think about, too. Peter had no idea if he would want to be a father, and he was too terrified to imagine his reaction to the news. He toyed briefly with the idea of not telling him, but that thought was quickly pushed out of his brain.

Tony deserved to know, and Peter had to tell him soon; soon enough that he could still get an abortion, if that was what he wanted.

A knock on the bathroom door brought him out of his thoughts.

“Baby?” Tony mumbled tiredly, voice laced with the thickness of sleep. “Are you going to bed soon? You’ve been in there for a while.”

Peter stashed the cluster of pregnancy tests in the back of the cabinets below the sink. He would have to remember to get rid of those the next day, before Tony could find them. Another knock had him rushing to stand up and wash his face, clearing it of his silver tear tracks.

“Pete?” Tony called, louder now and with more concern, still waiting for a response. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Peter answered, unlocking the door and stepping out of the bathroom.

Tony hadn’t finished scanning him for signs of harm when his nose picked up on the distress radiating from Peter’s body. It was a bitter scent; one that itched at Tony’s instincts, making him want to replace it with something more cheerful at once.

“What’s wrong?” Tony pulled him into his warm embrace, rubbing his back in small circles that bunched up his shirt.

Peter was tired of living in fear. Even if he’d only known about his pregnancy for all of ten minutes, he didn’t want to keep it from Tony for any longer. They didn’t keep secrets. They worked hard to keep their relationship honest, and Peter wasn’t going to be the one to ruin that.

“I’m pregnant,” Peter blurted out.

Tony’s hands faltered but remained on his back, which Peter took as a good sign. He didn’t dare to look up at his face, keeping his own hidden in the crook of Tony's neck. After a few minutes of mutual silence, the older man’s hands resumed their movements.

“You’re pregnant,” Tony repeated. “Sweetheart, that’s - that’s amazing.”

“You want to keep it?” Peter questioned, voice void of any judgement.

Tony recoiled away from him. “Do you not want to keep it? It’s your choice, of course, I’ll pay for the expenses either way.”

“I don’t know what I want to do,” Peter admitted smally. “I don’t want to give up everything I’ve worked for to stay home and take care of a pup. I’ve spent my whole life trying to prove that Omegas are more than pup-making machines. And now I’m pregnant.”

“You don’t have to give anything up,” Tony said firmly. “You can keep studying for your PhD, and get a job after that. I’ll stay home with the pup.”

Peter finally looked up at him. “You’d be willing to do that? I know it’s not - traditional, for the Alpha to be the one at home.”

“Fuck traditional,” Tony declared. “That’s our whole motto, honey. We don’t have to be traditional. And frankly, being there for my pup is a lot more important to me than what others will think of it.”

Peter beamed and threw himself onto Tony, who caught him and stumbled back a few steps from the force.

They quickly learned that pregnancy was not fun. At all. Peter spent most of the days of his first trimester alternating between clutching a trash can and a toilet seat, heaving up the contents of his stomach. Tony was always by his side, smoothing his hair away from his sweaty forehead and making him meals he could tolerate.

The second trimester was a lot more enjoyable. Peter’s stomach had settled down, for the most part, and started forming into a baby bump. He and Tony had completely opposite reactions to that.

“I’m so fat now,” Peter wailed into his pillow. “My body is ruined. I’m going to look distorted forever.”

Tony was patient with him, though, hiding his own glee until Peter was in a better mood. He thought that pregnancy looked amazing on Peter; he was practically glowing with it.

“You’ll be back in shape in no time, honey,” Tony assured him. “You’re still gorgeous as ever.”

Even more exciting than watching the baby bump grow was finding out the sex of their pup. Peter held Tony’s hand as they waited, shivering at the cool gel slathered on his abdomen. Slower than the couple would’ve liked, the doctor turned the screen to them.

They were having a boy.

Both Tony and Peter cried that day. They invited their friends over to the penthouse and threw a small party, accepting all of the gifts their friends brought with big smiles.

The third trimester, and thus the birth of their pup, arrived a lot faster than they expected. Tony had been at a meeting when Peter’s water broke, the latter of whom was in too much pain to drive himself to the hospital, and hobbled over to the bathtub instead.

“Boss,” FRIDAY interrupted the shareholder speaking unapologetically, “Peter’s water broke and he is now in labor.”

Tony’s face paled in less than two seconds, and he was out of the meeting room in less than one. He instructed FRIDAY to call the doctor and raced into the elevator, urging his AI to take him up to the penthouse faster than was allowed.

He found Peter curled up in the tub with a pained expression, whimpering in between each contraction as it came and went. He crouched next to him and offered him his hand, grimacing at the strength with which he gripped it.

The doctor joined them twenty minutes later with a nurse at her heels, ushering Tony to the side to crouch in between Peter’s open legs.

Tony knew that Peter would pull through. His mate was strong, with a will that matched his own. That didn’t stop him from wincing at every cry that tumbled out of Peter’s lips, or wishing privately that he’d never gotten him pregnant, because that way he wouldn’t be in pain.

Six hours after Peter went into labor, his groans were silenced by the loud cry of his newborn, who had finally come out. He was dirty, looking more like an organ than a human being, but Tony didn’t get to look at him for very long. The nurse whisked the child away while the doctor finished up with Peter.

Tony stayed with Peter, running his fingers gently through his damp curls. “You did it, baby. I’m so proud of you. You did it.”

The nurse returned soon after, the baby now clean and looking considerably more like a human. The baby was handed to Peter, who held him with shaky arms and watched him breathe through bleary eyes.

“Skin on skin contact is important,” the nurse told them, draping a blanket over Peter’s naked chest and the baby.

They moved Peter to the master bedroom, which was where he would spend his recovery. The baby would be there, too, resting in an incubator once he was taken away from Peter.

“What do you want to name him?” Tony wondered, laying on the bed with Peter. He’d insisted on having the incubator placed on his side of the room, so that he could watch over both of the people that owned his heart. Peter hadn’t minded, had just smiled at Tony fondly and nodded.

Tony was glad. If he looked to the left, he saw the love of his life, relaxing after giving birth to the baby boy on Tony’s right. He wanted to keep them close forever.

“Benjamin Anthony Stark,” Peter told him. “After the most important men in my life.”

Tony swallowed harshly. He’d never imagined naming his child after himself, or having someone else want to do so. He didn’t think there was much to live up to. Peter clearly didn’t agree with that, and there was his proof.

“Ben,” Tony whispered to himself, gazing at their little boy.

It sounded perfect.

#starker #ironspider #starkerscoopwrites #a blessing in disguise fic

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.13

12/12/2020

The Honeymoon’s Not Over

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,309

Warnings: jealousy, slight angst, light smut, language, talks of pregnancy

A/N: I’m sorry these are taking longer. My grandparents are living with me for a few months and these are going to get a little slower now that they’re here. I hope you enjoy it! If you have a favorite part, let me know what it is! I’d love to hear. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on any other blogs or sites.

REBLOGS are always welcome!

Not knowing what to expect from a marriage to a veritable stranger is predictable. Of course, you’re not going to know what’s to come when you don’t know the man you’ve agreed to marry.

Apart from the responsibilities of the throne you’ve chosen to sit upon, and the obligations you have to provide the kingdom with an heir, the marriage you have chosen for yourself was entered into blindly.

You knew absolutely nothing about Thor when you agreed to marry him. You knew a little bit more by the time you stood directly opposite him and said your vows.

Now, after spending time with him in the company of his comrades, his friends, you know what Thor sounds like when he busts a gut. You see the twinkle in his one eye when they all sit around the living room reminiscing about battles won.

You see sadness over their losses, and the loyalty of his friendship. You see the weight they all carry on their shoulders to give this world its best chance against all forms of threat.

Most of all, you know how proud Thor is to have you by his side. At every moment possible, he’s pulled you into their games and conversations. He’s invited Tony to give you a tour of the compound and Bruce had tagged along and whispered to you smaller things that Tony conveniently left out because they weren’t things for him to boast about.

As the night went on, the Avengers told you their farewells and those that lived outside of the compound took their leave. They told you it was so nice to meet you, shook your hand—or hugged you as was the case with Wanda, Nat, and Steve—and then made you promise to stop by again and stay for longer than a day.

“We’ll make a real vacation of it, I assure you,” Thor promises Bucky who has taken a shine to you more enthusiastically than you thought he would.

Since you made your opinions on Loki clear, he’s been much more eager to speak with you and exchange ideas on more than just overlooking the troubled pasts of people desperate to make a change.

By one o’clock in the morning, Tony and Bruce are the only two left in the living room.

Bruce sits at the edge of the sofa, his glasses balanced at the end of his nose as he scrolls through large amounts of text and numbers on a sleek black tablet.

Tony has taken over the corner of the sectional, his phone pressed to his ear again as he yawns but resists sleep.

You hear him say Pepper’s name and a quick acknowledgement that he misses her when you decide that maybe it’s time to give them their privacy.

You rise slowly, Thor back in the main common room where you’d all eaten dinner, talking to Loki or Hilde on his own phone to keep up with what’s happening back home.

Bruce notices, not as invested in his reading as you’d thought.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed.” You admit, gesturing over your shoulder towards the other room.

“Oh, okay. Have a good night. I think Tony has breakfast set up for eight o’clock tomorrow morning so, the others will be back by then. I think?”

Bruce turns towards Tony who has his legs folded up on the seat, his hand combing through the back of his head as a sappy grin overtakes his face.

“Hey, breakfast at eight, right? Tomorrow morning?” Bruce asks, reaching over to place his hand on the seat of the sofa to attempt and get his attention.

“Hold on, Pep, there’s some weird old man trying to ask me something. I think if I ignore him long enough, he’ll leave me alone.” Tony mutters, loud enough for everyone to hear but muffled enough to make it clear that you’re not supposed to.

From the other end of the phone, you hear a clearly amused female voice speak back, “Be nice. He’s trying to be accommodating for Thor’s wife.”

He throws his hand back towards Bruce and waves his hand at him in clear dismissal.

Bruce sighs and gives you an apologetic smile, but you’re smiling from ear to ear.

“Sorry. Just to be safe, we’ll say eight o’clock.”

“Thanks, Bruce. For the tour and everything.”

��Yeah, no problem.” Bruce nods.

“Good night. Good night, Tony.” You call at him pointedly.

Tony makes a point to look back at you, fixing you with a buttery smile, “Goodnight, Cherub.”

You scoff, laughing a little, but give them a wave and move into the common room.

Thor’s back is tense, and it makes you worry.

Despite the conversation you’d overheard in the kitchen, you’re more confident now than before that Thor is devoted to you.

Because it’s in his touch. It’s in his gaze. It’s in the way he pulls you into his side when the others teased you about now being obligated to be an Avenger and the consequent terror that filled your eyes.

“A jest, my sweet.” Thor had whispered, then chuckled with the others.

He’d promised to tell you about this threat when the two of you were alone, but you’re so exhausted and as much as you want to go over and demand he fill you in now, you turn down the long hallway and pass two or three doorways before you reach the bedrooms.

The first door on the left is Thor’s and you slip in quietly, hoping not to interrupt Thor’s phone call.

It’s toasty warm inside. You peel off your clothes and despite wanting to just snuggle into bed, you make your way into the bathroom and the deep tub is long and wide enough for two people.

You flip on the shower instead, the water burning hot and as it glides down along your skin it summons goosebumps as the cold is chased away.

You hadn’t realized how chilly the compound is until now, and wonder if the Avengers are just hot natured. It would be weird for all of them to be like that, but if the ones with powers are like Thor, then maybe they all run a little hotter?

A tickle around your arms, just above your elbows, coaxes your eyes back open.

You hadn’t even realized you were falling asleep. Looking down you see two sets of large familiar fingers.

The hands they’re attached to turn you around and pull you close until Thor’s lips press down against yours, pushing you even further into peaceful bliss.

He opens his mouth wide, coaxing your own to respond as his tongue delves hungrily into your mouth.

You’re slow to respond, so tired but eager and pleased with the affection.

Thor’s knee nudges against the inner part of your thigh and you take a step, but he catches it as you do, and he lifts it up against his hip.

Water rains down along your naked bodies and Thor slides into you slowly.

You moan, low and sweet. Quiet and pleased but lazy.

“Thor…” You whimper, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he dips down to nibble at your throat.

He pumps in and out so deliciously slow that the stretch of him pulls an orgasm from you quickly.

You’re so sensitive at the moment. You go limp in his arms, and he adjusts to support your body as you relax while he continues to push into you.

He rests your back against the shower wall, hips pulled against his as he fucks you slow. Watching him thrust into you, hips rolling slow, is perfection.

You caress the side of his face and he pulls back to look at you before he kisses you sweetly.

It all feels like a dream, and as he speeds up, you shut your eyes and you’re sent off with another wave of pleasure.

~~~~~~~~~~

The morning is toasty. Large warmth wrapped around you.

You twist where he holds you, straining to look at his face which you know like the back of your hand by now. No eyepatch, you reach up to trace the edges of his missing eye.

He croons and curls into your touch, the space gets red and itchy sometimes from wearing the patch all day.

This feeling, this soft glow in your chest, the way it aches and makes you feel like you could fly is something you didn’t know to expect from your marriage.

This iridescence, this shine that grows from your very center to entangle itself around you and Thor.

“Sleep longer,” Thor whispers, his voice deep and gravelly with sleep.

He pulls you closer, large hands splayed against your back as he rubs it several times up and down.

It almost does lure you back to sleep but you force your eyes open.

“We have to go down for breakfast. Everyone will be waiting.”

“Mmmmmm,” Thor protests.

No, he’s straight up whining. Tightening his hold, you groan as he squeezes. Any harder and he’ll crack your back.

“Thor,” You insist, and after a bit he opens his eye and peeks at your face before shutting it again.

“I do not appreciate early mornings when I am supposed to be enjoying uninterrupted time with my new wife.”

“You’re the one that brought us here!” The chuckle that slips through your lips is unintentional, but he’s so cute all pouty.

“It doesn’t matter,” He frowns, “I am King. Things should go my way.”

“Well, excuse me Your Majesty. Should I go tell the Avengers that they need to reschedule breakfast until you’re ready to wake up?”

“Yes,” When you start to move, he shoots up, tackling you to the bed and pinning your arms over your head as you laugh. “Wait, I don’t want you to leave the bed.”

“How the hell else am I supposed to go tell them then?”

“I suppose we can’t make them wait. I am so glad that we’ve still got a few days left to spend at your home. I want to make sure we go back to the palace with my child firmly planted in your womb.” He gushes and even though the words aren’t exactly dirty, it’s got your core throbbing and aching for more of what you think happened last night.

“Did we make love last night?” You really don’t know if it was just a dream or not.

It was all so sleepy, the memory like smoke. It could very well have been a wet dream.

“Don’t you remember?”

“Kinda. I was so tired.”

The amused curve of Thor’s lips give you the confirmation you need, “Yes, you were very tired. I had to catch you after your second climax. You fell asleep just as I also reached mine.”

“I don’t remember,” You confess, trying hard to remember what happened after your eyes shut.

You vaguely remember feeling supportive hands on the back of your head and back.

The soft mattress of his bed supporting you as he placed you on it?

“I’m not allowed to get drunk or to get really tired around you anymore. I hate not remembering my nights with you.”

He settles down on top of you, keeping his weight light and balanced on his side. His hands he brings down along your arms until he has his right cupping the left side of your head while his left hand finds its usual spot on your hip.

“I quite enjoy it when you can’t keep your eyes open. You sang for me on our wedding night.”

His reminder makes you groan and you turn away from him but he catches your lips in a kiss before you can turn away fully.

Thor gives you a good morning. A very good morning.

You both shuffle out into the common room where you’d had dinner last night with wide smiles, playful chuckling, and completely satisfied.

Both of you are so into what the other is saying or doing with their hands that you don’t really hear the murmur of conversation by the long table.

“When we get back, we should break in that bench in your backyard.” Thor whispers.

“Are you joking? That thing is gonna leave so many marks on my body. No way.”

“Come on, I’ll put a blanket, and you can be on top.” He presses his lips right up against your ear as he seduces you, but you’re stronger than that...maybe.

“Mmm, that’s really tempting there, Your Majesty,” you tease, reaching up to tug on his ear until he meets your lips in a quick peck.

It’s noisy and it smacks. So loud in fact, that you two finally notice the way the murmur of voices has disappeared and turned into silence.

Both of you stop, searching ahead for what might have caused the sudden death of conversation and at first don’t see anything.

Well, you don’t see anything.

“Good morning, everyone. What’s-is everything okay?” You ask, finding Steve’s face as he stands with his arms crossed across his chest, looking at you and Thor with his chin tucked in a bit.

He looks pensive and worried.

A quick look at Natasha and Wanda tells you that they’re worried for you for some reason. Both of them sitting at the edge of their seats.

Beside you, Thor has gone stiff.

“Thor?” You look at him, not sure why and search his face to see if there might be a clue but his eye is lasered in across the room and you follow his gaze.

You’re still not quite certain what he sees until movement on the furthest seat of the table draws your attention to a small brunette, with peachy skin, rosy cheeks, and bright brown eyes.

She’s so nervous that she’s almost clumsy, pushing her long hair over her shoulder, her lips quivering into a smile and then back into a straight line several times before they settle into a teeny uncertain curve of her lips.

Pink lips. Not chapped. Perfectly proportioned so that both lips are the exact same thickness.

“Jane…” Thor says, almost like it’s a realization.

“Oh,” Your voice is more timid than you expected it to come out if you ever came face to face with this woman. “That’s Jane.”

You’re suddenly really sad you never Googled her so that you’d at least have been prepared for the absolute petite beauty that she is.

Thor’s head whips towards you and he blinks, mouth opening as he searches for the words.

“I-we-er-I mean...This-this is my wife,” He introduces you breathlessly.

Clearly seeing her has caught him by as much surprise as you. Maybe more.

“Queen of Asgard,” he gives her your full name.

In Asgardian tradition, since Thor doesn’t technically have a last name in the traditional sense like humans do, you’ve kept your own.

“Right,” Jane shuts her eyes, claps her hands gently then nods slowly. “Right, of course. You’re King now! RIght. Your Majesties.”

Her greeting is simple and she even gives a quick somewhat off balance curtsy, probably from her nerves.

“Oh, that’s-”

Thor takes your hand, pulling you just a smidge more into his side, cutting off your protest to her curtsy.

“Thank you for that,” Thor tells her, nodding once. “None of these rascals bothered to bow to my new Queen.”

There’s something odd about Thor’s voice that you’ve never heard before. An anger. Subdued rage. Surprise too. His own sprinkle of nerves thrown in there as well.

You steal a glance up at his face and find a tightness around his eyes as he then drops your hand to slip it around your shoulders.

“What are you doing here?” He asks her, and the Avengers take this as their cue to rise from their spots and move into the living room or the kitchen.

Jane comes around the table, stopping a few feet away from the two of you.

Their eyes are locked on each other, her pretty browns and Thor’s one electric blue.

The silence, though it lasts only a quick three seconds, is endless. Instantly you’re an intruder and you spot Bruce peeking from the kitchen. He makes eye contact with you and there’s a beckoning from him, a promise of safety and sanctuary in this super fucked situation you find yourself in and you pull out from Thor’s arm and nearly scamper into the kitchen but a large hand wraps around your wrist gently, pulling to stop you from moving.

“Where are you going?” Thor’s face has softened, all tension leaving his beautiful face as he steps towards you to close the distance between your bodies.

It’s still respectful, a good two feet between you as opposed to the narrow six inches he’s kept you in all week.

Something tells you that he’s also keeping you at arms’ length because Jane is right there and it’s only been at most, two weeks since he ended things with her.

“I was going to give you two some space.” You whisper, though Jane is literally right there, so she can hear you.

“Oh, you don’t have to-” She starts, but Thor cuts her off, almost as if he can’t hear her.

“You do not have to give us space, cherub. You are right where you should be, at my side.” Thor doesn’t bother to whisper, but it’s clear in the volume of his voice that his words are meant only for you.

“It feels weird…” You whisper more quietly that it makes Thor move closer and lean his head down.

“It shouldn’t,” He reaches up to stroke your cheek, and you can’t help but peek at Jane.

She’s watching the two of you, her eyes darting away and back and away again, a fleeting look of confusion on her pretty face.

You reach around Thor’s side and give his side a little pinch to bring his attention back to Jane.

“She’s waiting,” you inform him, and flick your head in her direction before turning to face her again, planting yourself beside Thor just as he wants.

“Right,” Thor agrees, then wraps his arm right back around your shoulders. “What brings you to the compound, Jane? I can’t imagine anything would get you out of the desert with what you showed me last time I was there.”

Your heart gives an upsetting lurch at the reminder to Thor’s and Tony’s conversation last night, but you simply lean into Thor’s side some more, pushing down your insecurities for now.

“Yeah, um...I was in the lab when a weird energy spike completely threw off my sensors. It fried my stabilizer. So, I checked with NASA and UNOOSA, CNSA, SUPARCO, and a whole bunch of other contacts at various space agencies around the world and all of them also had similar readings. Not as strong, but they all swear that they don’t have anything in orbit or out in that quadrant. Given the strength of the surge, I contacted Tony to let him know so that he could get word to you but then he told me that you’d be here this week for a day, so I...I decided to stop by and tell you myself.”

She smiles, just a quick awkward little thing, at you and then at Thor.

Thor’s mind processes what she just told him as quickly as it can while you steal a glance at the kitchen again where Tony is peeking out this time.

“To be fair, I didn’t know you were going to be so nice.” He tells you, unapologetic that his words will reach all ears in all three rooms.

He quickly ducks out when you frown at him, leaving Bruce peeking out behind him who then panics and also pulls himself back out of sight.

What you can infer from his words is that he’d invited her to come when he’d known that you and Thor would be on your honeymoon in an attempt to get them back together?

As you look back to Jane who stands there staring at Thor with those stupid big brown eyes, you wonder if she knew Tony’s plans and that’s why she’s here.

“What’s the trajectory of the energy you found? What’s it heading towards?” Thor wonders, taking a half step forward, dropping his arm from your shoulders.

Your mind goes into a sudden frenzy as you, like him, put two and two together quickly.

“The threat?” You guess, stepping away from him but also moving around so that you can look at him and speak a little more face-to-face with him and Jane too.

You’d completely forgotten about the damn threat! You’d been so seduced and tired last night that you passed out. Then Thor woke you up so sweetly with more seduction that you’ve put the secret threat Thor has been trying to hide from you out of your mind.

His furrowed brow, large biceps bulging as he crosses his arms across his chest, betray his guilt at having kept it from you. But the two of you know that you have no time to dwell on petty arguments, so you table the argument you’d planned on having last night for another time.

“Could that be it?” You push, looking to Jane who looks a little confused by the tension in both your and Thor’s bodies.

“It might be.”

“What threat?” Jane wonders.

“What’s the matter, Cherub? What’s got you all worried?” Tony shuffles over, probably having heard the bit about the threat.

You give him a quick glance before you look at Jane, “What kind of energy reading was it? Cosmic? Solar? Celestial?”

All of the Avengers who had begun to make their way back into the common room for breakfast along with Thor, Tony, and Jane stop to look at you, several of them with mouths open and in complete surprise.

The silence is deafening, pressing in on you from every direction. Thor takes a step towards you and seems to be the only one unphased by your question.

“I don’t know that Jane would be able to determine the type of energy at this distance.” And yet, he turns to look at her once he’s spoken. “Jane?”

She blinks, still completely in shock by your knowledge, “Uh, I might be able to find a way to determine...how do you know about-?”

“As soon as Thor formally asked me to marry him I started to make a list of things that would probably be good to know in my position. Loki helped me um…” Wait, shoot...maybe you shouldn’t be so open with them?

“The weird sister helped you what?” Tony asks, casual disdain in his voice for the younger Asgardian prince.

You frown at him.

“Nevermind.” You cross your arms across your chest and sit down on the seat right behind you.

“He didn’t mean that, cherub.” Thor cuts in, moving towards you he pulls the seat beside you out to sit down, facing you. “Isn’t that right, Stark?”

“No.” You frown, really not liking the way some of them seem to really hate Loki.

Part of you knows that you can’t blame them. Loki did a lot of bad the last time he was here for an extended period of time.

He killed a lot of people and wreaked havoc on New York. They have every right to be angry at him. Even though you know this, you can’t find yourself letting them get away with their open hatred for him in front of you.

Thor looks at Tony with a pleading, his large hands on your knees as he strokes your legs softly to try and soothe you.

You see Tony roll his eyes from the corner of your own and with a silent exasperated sigh, he throws his hands out in front of him to physically push away his words.

“Alright, you’re right. I’m sorry. He’s made amends, right? He’s spent the time since he came back doing right by those people that he hurt. You’re right.” The longer Tony speaks, the more it looks like it physically hurts him to say sorry.

“Wait, you actually like Loki?” Jane asks, her smile in slight disbelief.

“Didn’t he save your life before?” You throw at her, having heard all about her infection by the Aether and how she’d helped Thor save many worlds.

It’s intimidating and not a story you’d easily forget.

At the time, you’d wondered how you’re ever going to compare to that. She’s helped Thor save Earth twice. What can you do?

Your words have the desired effect, and she quickly deflates as you meet Thor’s eye and sigh slowly.

“They don’t mean anything by it, cherub,” Thor promises, his voice soft and gentle and soothing.

You see the way Jane’s head twists in your direction at his pet name for you but he reaches up to take hold of your chin and turn your face towards his.

“Loki is lucky to have your loyalty.” He praises, looking genuinely happy about it too, but the smile leaves quickly in favor of his curiosity. “But how did you learn about different types of energy?”

“Loki hacked into the S.H.I.E.L.D. mainframe when I told him that I wasn’t sure that I was up for the task of being Queen and wife of an Avenger since I knew almost nothing about anything. I-I did a lot of reading.” You admit, heart in arrest as you gauge everyone’s reaction to Loki’s deceit. “But he only did it because I was crying and really worried and I was almost having a straight up panic attack, and he wanted to help so he offered me a place to learn and I couldn’t-I didn’t have it in me to say no even when he told me how he was going to get me the info so if you’re going to blame anyone, blame me because I was feeling so inadequate and he was just trying to make me feel better.”

Once again, the room is left in silence, save for Thor who smiles at you and reaches around to grab the back of your neck and give it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s alright. We’re not angry. Any of us, right?” As he looks around at everyone, they all nod quickly, giving you reassuring smiles save for Tony who has his arms crossed over his chest now, hand covering his mouth as he shakes with silent laughter.

“You’re angry?” You ask him, and he startles slightly when he realizes you’re talking to him.

“Me? Oh, no. No, I’m not. I just can’t wait to tell Fury that Loki hacked into his servers.” Tony bursts into laughter and has to turn away from all of you and move back into the kitchen to get a hold of himself.

“I’m sorry.” You repeat, reaching down to take hold of Thor’s hand, “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me, love. Never.” He smiles at you, then pulls you down to kiss your forehead before rising and moving to stand behind you. “Can you get to work on detecting the type of energy it was that destroyed your instruments?”

Jane straightens up out of her slouched pouting as she realizes that he’s talking to her, “Yes. I can. That’s kind of why I came here, to get some help from Bruce. It could also be gamma, so I wanted to consult with him before I made any decisions.”

Bruce lumbers forward between Nat and Bucky, waving Jane over, “We can go now? I don’t exactly have an appetite at the moment. If you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Jane shakes her head and moves for him as he turns to lead the way.

Before she can get too far, she stops and turns to look at you and Thor as he moves back to take his seat next to you, your hands pulled up to his lips.

“Uh, congrats again, both of you,” With a firm nod, she turns and leaves you all to your breakfast.

~~~~~~~~~~

“We don’t have to cut our honeymoon short?”

“Definitely not.” Thor frowns, “I would quit my job as King of Asgard if we had to end our private time.”

You smile, despite the pit in your stomach, “You can’t quit, silly.”

“I can. Loki would be more than happy to take over.”

“Well, I won’t let you quit. You’re an amazing King.”

“You’re my wife. You are clearly biased in my favor. I can’t believe a word you say.”

You chuckle at his playful banter, but after a few seconds, your worry for the people of your kingdom takes over.

“But really, Thor. If the threat coming is the same thing that destroyed Jane’s equipment, shouldn’t we go home and, I don’t know, deal with it?”

Thor breathes in deep, considering your words as he finishes pulling off his armor, tossing the last piece onto his red cape leaving him in a plain dark shirt and pants.

In a clear attempt to distract you, he rolls up the sleeves to his elbows, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a distraction.

Mmmph!

“I already have Sif and Hilde working on it. Loki is managing things with the palace, beefing up security for when we get there and until Tony and Bruce can come and make their own modifications.”

“Then we can enjoy our last four days?”

“Enjoy them?!” Thor moves to you, slipping his hand down around the waist of your skirt where it intertwines with the lower piece and with a firm tug, he rips through the fabric leaving only the bodice.

You gasp, hand pressed to your chest as you laugh in surprise.

“I’m going to impregnate you in the next four days if it’s the last thing I do.”

Oh my.

“No, turn around for me cherub, so I can finish ripping this dress off of you.” He coaxes you around and leans down to press a kiss to your back, then rips down the back of your bodice with more firm tugs that shake your body.

His lips trail open mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, hands gripping the flesh of your thighs with a possessive squeeze.

Despite your worries, it doesn’t seem like seeing Jane has affected his desire for you in any way. Somehow you’d never believed his devotion to you, until now.

With meeting Jane now that you’re married out of the way, and Thor’s cock still solid as he rutts into you from behind as he strips you, you feel a lot more secure in the emotions and passion you’re able to summon from him.

Almost like he knows you need it, “Tell me you love me, cherub.”

How can he doubt it?

“I love you, puppy.” It just slips out and Thor freezes.

You panic, turning to look at him because you hadn’t meant to say it, and it was something you’d just been calling him in your head in secret because of that look he gives you when he’s begging you to give in for whatever he wants in the moment.

“I’m-” He cuts you off, smashing his mouth down onto you, open wide as he delves into you, tasting you, tongue searching and coaxing.

“Mmmph,” You whimper, wrapping your arms around him to grip the back of his shirt tight.

He suddenly tosses you back onto your bed, pulling his shirt over his head and then shoving his pants down before he grabs your ankles and pulls you towards the edge. With wide splayed out hands he pushes your thighs open and settles between them, two fingers run up along your slick slit making you quiver.

“Tell me again,” he orders, voice so deep you feel it in your toes.

“I love you, pu-AH!”

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #arranged marriage au #royal au #a wife for thor #marvel faniction #marvel au

[troubatrain]

with you around - n. patrick

a/n: so this is a repost of an old fic from my old blog that survived the purge when I deleted - there’s actually two parts i just need to find the other one to post it lmao. i’m tagging @prettyboybarzal​ because nolpat is the dream stoner boyfriend and there’s nothing you can do to convince me otherwise

You open your back door, sneaking out and walking to the back of the yard, climbing up the worn ladder to the tree house your parents built over a decade ago. You check your phone, knowing Nolan would have landed an hour ago which means he should be walking over to you now. You move the random throw pillows you’d collected over the years, trying to make the wooden house slightly more comfortable.

“You have got to stop making me climb up here,” You hear a deep voice huff, and you knew exactly who was on his way up.

“It’s tradition, Nolan,” You deadpan, it was how you both spent every first night of summer.

You watch as Nolan flicks on the old Christmas lights you’d hung up when you were sixteen. That was the first year you’d spent without the comfort of having your best friend next door. You were proud of Nolan, but it didn’t take away from how rough of a year it was without him. He finally plops down next to you, “So what’s been going home?”

“Same old, same old,” You say, pulling the joint from your hoodie pocket, twirling it in your hand.

Nolan laughs, “You’re going to get me in so much trouble one of these days.”

Regardless of his words, Nolan snatches the joint and lighter out of your hand, lighting the paper and taking a big puff, coughing as soon as he did.

“You’re losing your touch Nols,” You say, joking about when you were younger Nolan could smoke more than anyone - hockey being the only reason he’d stop. You take a huge puff of smoke, blowing it out easily.

“Why are we still friends? All you do is bully me,” Nolan says, nudging you with his shoulder lightly.

“You’re too grumpy for everyone else,” You say, “I just put up with it.”

Nolan laughs, and your heart swells at the sound. You’d missed him, and you were happy to have him with you. He looked like your Nolan when he was home, his eyes a little glassy from the joint, his cheeks rosy and full of joy, and his eyes that only ever seemed to be on you.

“How are you?” You ask, leaning your head on his shoulder. You knew he had a rough season with everything that was going on. You’d wished you could have been there but you got so wrapped in school you couldn’t find the time to make the trip out to Philly.

“Some days are good, some days are bad,” Nolan says solemnly, “I wish I got to play.”

“I wish you got to play too,” You say, moving your hand to run through his hair, “You’ll be back on the ice soon.”

You fell into a long conversation about what the other person had missed. Nolan told you about his year, living with Kevin and TK’s usual antics. You talked about how college was going, living out in Alberta to go to art school. You got so excited talking about your classes and what you’d been creating.

“Speaking of art school, take any thought to those post grad plans?” Nolan asks, looking down at you next to him.

You sigh, knowing what he’d been referring to. He mentioned it from time to time, moving to Philly with him after you finally graduated. He knew it was a good city to create art in and that you would have more opportunities out there. You weren’t sure if you wanted to up and leave everything you’ve ever known to move all the way to Philadelphia - even if it was with Nolan.

“I don’t know Nols,” You say.

He nods, it was the same answer you always gave him, “I just want you to have every opportunity you deserve.”

You smile, he’d always been your number one supporter. You sometimes think you could the worst painting in the world but Nolan wouldn’t hesitate to say he liked it. He didn’t totally understand art, and it definitely wasn’t his comfort zone but he always listened to you talk about it anyways. 

“I’ll give you an answer next summer,” you say, “Pinky promise.”

Nolan’s eyebrows raise at the seriousness of your voice, “A pinky promise?”

“Yeah Nols, let’s go, hold it out,” You say, holding your pinky out for his to link with yours.

“If it matters, I really want to have you out in Philly with me, you’ll love it,” Nolan says, throwing his arm around you to pull you closer.

Your face finds its usual spot, tucked right under Nolan’s chin, he still felt the same. He talked more about Philly, and all of the things about it he knew you’d love. You doze off, the sounds of Nolan’s deep voice putting you to sleep easily.

--

You scan the house party for the millionth time, waiting to see when Nolan was getting there. He had a late afternoon skate, and you knew for a fact that he was going to pass out afterwards - but at this point you thought he was never going to make it out.

“Are you looking for your other half?” You hear your friend, Kacey, say.

“He’s not my other half,” You say to the tattooed brunette next to you, her eyebrow raised at you, and you took a big gulp of your drink to try and avoid the topic all together.

“He wants you to move to Philly with him after you graduate,” Kacey says, “You’re practically married, and he’s here.”

Your whips around to the front door, Nolan walking in, his skateboard in hand and a case of beer in the other. 

You hear Kacey scoff at how quickly you turned your head, “I hate both of you really.”

Kacey walked away as soon as Nolan spotted you, walking over to you and wrapped you in a tight hug.

“Nice of you to show up,” You say, pulling back from his arms, “Take a good nap?”

“How did you know I was asleep?” Nolan says, grabbing a beer for himself.

You turn your head, giving him a knowing look, “We both know you’ve been passed out for the last like four hours.”

Nolan laughs, “You’re 100% right.”

Nolan sticks by your side for the rest of the night. He’s never been one for parties, even if all of his friends were there. You didn’t mind, having Nolan around allowed you to drink however much you wanted. You knew he’d keep you safe, and there wasn’t anything bad about having all of his attention. He’d been your partner for beer pong, ignoring the look Kacey was giving you from across the table. You had lost him eventually, after you insisted he danced along to the Blink 182 song that was playing on the speaker. 

“Nols!” You say, finally finding him across the party, leaning against the wall on his phone, you step in his arms, the alcohol blurring the boundaries you usually set for yourself. 

Nolan slipped his phone back into his pocket, one his hands moving to weave through your hair, “Ready to go?”

You nod, definitely ready to pass out. Nolan smiles, grabbing his skateboard he’d left right at the door, and your hand, walking right out the front door. 

Your mouth curves up to a smile, “Nols…” you whine, trying your best to pout at the boy in front of you.

Nolan sighs, turning around so you could hop onto his back. You jump up, legs wrapping around his waist. Nolan drops his skateboard, stepping onto it and heading in the direction of your house. It wasn’t the first time you made Nolan carry you home, it was so easy when he just could. 

“Are you ever going to get sick of this?” You mutter into his shoulder.

“Of what? Carrying you home?” Nolan asks, and you nod, “Nope.”

“You’re lying,” You tease, knowing there was no way Nolan hasn’t gotten sick of you yet. You’d been bothering him since the day he moved next door and you knew you wanted the rosy cheeked boy to be your best friend. Your eyes started to get heavy when Nolan finally hit your street, stopping in front of your house.

“Be sure to give me a five star rating,” Nolan says, bending down gently so he could get you down.

“Ride was a little bumpy, you can have four,” You say, opening the gate to the front of your house, “Get home safe Nols.”

Nolan rolled his eyes, waiting for you to walk into your house. He closed the gate behind you, walking over to his house to head to bed, checking his window one more time to make sure you were in bed before he fell asleep.

--

You walked around the small art supply store, the same place you’d been working in since you were sixteen. It was the best, you got a great employee discount and the older couple who owned it let you work when you were home from college. The bell above the door chimes, Nolan stepping into the store, two iced coffees in his hands.

“Is that Nolan?” Barbara, the owner of the store, called out as soon as he walked in, “Here to get Y/N into trouble?”

Nolan laughs, handing you your coffee and looking over to the older woman standing behind the counter, “If anything, I’m here to keep her out of trouble.”

You roll your eyes, “Hardly, Barb he can’t even tie his shoes.”

“I can! I just choose not too,” Nolan bickers back.

Barbara laughs at your antics, “You two are so funny, I’m going to run out, I think you guys can handle it?”

Nolan salutes the older woman while you snicker behind him, “I think she trusts us too much.”

“Us? It’s you she trusts too much,” Nolan says.

Nolan spends the rest of your shift at the store bothering you. He helped you stock the shelves, reading off the weird names of the paint bottles he was putting up. And when you asked Nolan why he was spending a beautiful summer day inside working with you, he just shrugs and tells you there's nothing he’d rather do.

--

Summer nights had always been spent the same. They were either at some party, the treehouse, or Nolan and yourself would just hang out in your room. He’d let you paint, setting up his own video games in your bedroom so he could keep you company. You both enjoyed your peace and quiet - but you enjoyed it even more with each other. 

Tonight was one of those nights, you were standing in the corner of your room, a blank canvas in front of you. You’d been looking for inspiration for almost a week, just having no idea what to even work on. You tie your hair up into a bun, and you step back, hands fiddling with the end’s of the oversized t-shirt you had over your shorts.

“What’s up with you?” Nolan asks, his focus not breaking the game he was playing.

“I don’t know what to paint,” You huff, hands on your hips.

Your mind ponders for a minute, and you pull out the box of polaroids next to your bed. You dump them on your bed, hoping you took a picture that could spark something. Nolan pauses his game, moving to look at the picture you poured out. There were ones of him, and ones you took when you came to see him in Philly. There were images of your friends, your roommates at college, and your family. You took your camera with you everywhere, you just liked having the memories. Nolan pulls a photo up, of someone’s back painted with a scene of the beach.

“Oh that’s Kacey,” You say, it was something you’d seen on Instagram that you wanted to try.

“You could do that to me?” Nolan says, voice deeper than usual.

You think about it for a moment, Nolan was big, and quite frankly his back wasn’t a bad canvas, “Okay turn around.”

You move to grab some paint and some brushes, watching as Nolan grabs the back of his t-shirt, tossing it in the corner of your room. You shake any of the dirty thoughts that ran through your head as you sit next to him. Nolan turns to you, grabbing your leg and swinging it over his waist so you were straddling him, grabbing his controller and going back to his game. You take a deep breath, and get to work. You think about what you’re going to paint, but you just let your mind rest - painting whatever came to your mind at the moment.

“Tell me if the paint is too cold for you,” you say, moving to create some sort of base on his back.

“I think I can handle it, Y/N” Nolan deadpans. 

You start to think about Nolan and the thing he loves most, painting a forest in the back that looked like the one at lake you’d both spent your summers at. You painted evergreen trees and a glimpse of the lake in the corner. Quite frankly, by the time you were done you were proud of yourself.

“Take a picture, I want to see,” Nolan says.

You grab your phone, snapping a photo and tossing it to Nolan, “This is sick, you should really draw me something to get tattooed.”

“You don’t trust me that much,” You say, glancing at the photo on your screen, “Can I post this on my Instagram story?”

You ask, you always did. Nolan was a private person, and you knew he liked it that way. It was better than having to deal with him when he was grumpy.

“Go for it,” Nolan smiles, “I should probably head out.”

“Don’t sleep with that on your back,” You scold, watching Nolan as he goes to climb out the window of your bedroom, “Use the door, we’re adults Nolan.”

“I’ll be fine,” Nolan assures you, climbing down just like he used to when you’d hang out all night instead of sleeping.

You clean up your brushes and paint, trying to shove the feelings about the way Nolan’s back muscles moved under your touch to the back of your mind, to be locked up forever. You slide into bed, checking your phone to see only one notification, a DM from TK.

Tell me that’s Nolan

--

With summer came a various string of weekends up at the lake with your friends. The older you’d gotten, the more fun the weekends had become. You were all almost adults, just riding out one of the last summers together, and you all decided to rent out the house you usually did, cause it might be one of the last times you do. You sat in the passenger seat of Nolan’s jeep, just like you always did. Your coffee in one hand, and Nolan’s phone in the other, mindlessly changing the songs for the ride. You glance over at Nolan, the roof was off his jeep, and his hair had hit the morning light just right. He looked good, he always did.

“Did you really have to tell TK that was me in your story? He hasn’t stopped making fun of me for days,” Nolan says, looking at you.

“You guys spend so much time together, I think he just knew,” You say, knowing they’re basically a married couple at this point.

Nolan shakes his head, turning up the street to the lake house. You spot all the cars that were already there, knowing you and Nolan had to have been the last people to arrive. You run inside, leaving Nolan to grab your bag out the trunk, running right into Kacey’s arms.

“Don’t be mad at me,” Kacey says, pulling back, “I miscounted and there’s one room left so you and Nolan are going to have to bunk up.”

Nolan walks in during Kacey’s sentence, “That’s fine, which one is it.”

Kacey points to the room upstairs, Nolan nodding, your bags already in his hands to bring upstairs. You turned to Kacey when he was out of earshot, “You did this on purpose.”

“If rooming together is all it would take to get you guys together, it’s not the rooming together it’s the fact that you guys are obsessed with each other,” Kacey says.

“Best friends, we are best friends,” You defended, you knew better though. Something was shifting between the two of you, but you didn’t know if it was from getting older or if it was something more.

Kacey shakes her head at you while you head up to your room, Nolan unpacking his stuff.

“You’re okay sharing a room?” you ask, knowing you could bunk with Kacey if you really had to.

“I’m fine with it, I’m going to go fishing with the boys for a bit, I’ll see you after?” Nolan says, stopping at the bedroom.

“No I’m actually going to go home,” you say sarcastically, unpacking your own bags.

You spend the rest of the afternoon next to the lake, getting a tan and day drinking with Kacey and the rest of your girlfriends. You guys head inside, setting up for the party you were throwing for the rest of your friends who’d been up at the lake too. You get dressed for the silly tourist theme you’d planned, tucking the terrible Hawaiian shirt you’d bought into the jean shorts you were wearing. Nolan pops out behind you and you take in his outfit, the shorts that hit above his knee, showing off his thigh tattoo, the Hawaiian shirt that matches yours, and his god awful mid calf socks. He had his vans on - and of course they were untied.

“You have the worst taste in fashion,” You laugh, Nolan striking a pose in response.

“Sorry we’re all not you, I can’t make this shirt look good,” Nolan says, poking at your sides gently, causing you to blush.

He walked out of the room and you took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. It was now or never with your feelings, you either had to tell him or you had to just get over him but you couldn’t keep pushing them down, it was going to drive you crazy. You move down to the party, seeing it’s in full swing already. You grab a drink, moving to go play drinking games with Kacey. After a few hours, you were a little buzzed but mostly sweating from the heat inside. You step out, walking over to the docks and staring out at the lake in front of you. You hear heavy footsteps behind you, and you knew it had to be Nolan.

“Needed a minute?” Nolan asks, knowing you would disappear from parties from time to time, and you nod because he was always right.

“Nols, can I ask you something?” You ask, your voice small, a tiny amount of courage guiding you to ask him a question that’d you wanted to ask since he got home, “Do things feel different between us?”

“Do you want them too?” Nolan asks, looking over at you with rosy cheeks, and a nervous look in his eyes.

“So badly,” You whisper, looking into his eyes that had gone soft at your words. Nolan leans in and you stop him for a moment, “Nolan this has to mean something to you too.”

“Everything, it means everything,” Nolan says finally, planting a kiss on your lips, your bodies molding together out on the dock underneath a twinkly night sky. It felt so right for your lips to be on his, your hands running through your hair, and hearing him finally say that he felt the same you have.

“So Philly?” Nolan asks, finally pulling away, the question he asked you when he first got home still burning.

“We’ll talk later,” You promise, stealing another kiss from his lips.

#nolan patrick #that's my greasy stoner boyfriend #nolan patrick imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

[cryoqi]

fingerless gloves.

with miya atsumu.

in 0.3k words.

tags angst, it’s sad, i’m really proud of this one too, gn!reader

You told him your favorite season was winter.

The fact stuck to his memory like a sticky note posted on the wall adjacent to his desk. The first time you told him this was on a cold winter night before he dropped you off at the doorstep of your home. He asked you why. You rubbed your hands together, blowing your warm breath onto them, and he placed his calloused hands on top of yours. You told him that it was because your hands always got cold, and it was the perfect time to hold hands in hopes of getting warm.

On Christmas Eve that same season, he gave you a small wrapped box, one slightly bigger than your hands. You remembered he kept his gaze down at his feet, bashful, not wanting to acknowledge how his brother unwillingly helped him choose the perfect present. The gift was so small that it was lost in the amount of other presents you received from your friends and family. It pained you to have lost it, but soon you forgot about it as all your other thoughts stacked atop one another.

The following month he walked up to you with his hands in his pockets, asking where your gift from him was. In a panic, you hastily explained that it was so precious you didn’t want to bring it out in public. He pursed his lips and let the answer slide—he knew you’d have lost it; there was no way you’d leave the house without it. He grabbed your hand, bringing it up to kiss your knuckles; not only did your hands grow warm, but so did your cheeks.

Several months later came spring cleaning for the both of you. It seemed as if his own spring cleaning meant clearing the way for his volleyball profession, dropping you as his significant other. Your own came in the form of organizing your bedroom, a way of sorting your life together after the post-depression of being dumped by the boy you loved.

There, shoved under your bed, was the small box he had given you last Christmas Eve. You slowly opened it up to find a note laid peacefully atop the gift. 

“For when your hands get cold, but I still want to kiss your hands,” it said. 

Underneath the note lay a pair of fingerless gloves.

reposted from my old blog @/lnarizakis.

#haikyuu x reader #hq!! x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #hq atsumu x reader #haikyuu angst #hq angst

[tipsydipsydo]

Headcanon: “I think Namjoon could have kind of a size kink when he has a short S/O ;)”

Requested: Nope, but I think @lustfuldevils​ would be very interested in this here~

Pairing: Dom! Namjoon x Sub! + Short! Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 1.2k

Genre: Smut!

Warnings: filthy Language; Dom-/Sub-Themes; filthy Dirty-Talk; Petnames; Degradation (degrading Names); Daddy-Kink; Teasing, Edging; Punishments; Pussy-Slapping; Size-Kink (Height-Kink?); slightly an Innocence-Kink; Mentions of Creampies and Gaping; that means unprotected Sex (that's Fiction. Stay safe in Reality!)

A/N: ...well I just know the soft spots of my dear Squishy~ ♡ I love to tease the shit out of her 😈💦

Synopsis: Namjoon loves that you're shorter than him. A lot shorter. At first he was worried to hurt you, because we all can guess... everything is huge on this tall man! But you can take care of him very well. And he just loves it!

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"Hm Baby? Do you like it, lying in front of me in such an exposing way, spreading yourself open and shamelessly giving me a delicious look at your tiny pussyhole? Are you just getting even wetter by the thought that I'll stretching this sweet little pussy with my thick long cock and filling you up? Hm, you like the thought, don't you? I see your hole impatiently clenching around nothing... My little babygirl loves the thought of getting fucked by a tall man with a thick cock like mine, right?", Namjoon purrs seductively.

The way, how you placing your hands at the underside of your knees and keeping your legs open makes Namjoon crazy. Spread yourself open just for him. You start to whimper when you see how he’s rubbing his cock a few times with a cocky smirk on his lips and then starts to let his tip sliding gently between your pussy lips.

"Hm? What do you want Baby?

"Please... please Joon! Give it to me, I-I need it so badly!"

"What do you need, little Girl? Use your words for Daddy~"

You start to whine even more and you feel, how your cheeks are getting hot and and how you start to blush furiously.

"I-I want your dick, Daddy! P-Please Daddy, I need you so bad in me!"

"And you are sure that you're able to take my fat cock in that tiny pussy of yours? I'm worried that I’m gonna tear my little princess hole apart... Hm, I don't think so. I don’t think that you're already ready for me. Let's wait a week longer and we'll train a little bit more. What do you think, my little Doll?"

Your lips begins to tremble in a dangerous way, like you're about to start crying now. Even when you know, that he's just teasing you, but the thought alone of teasing you more, brings tears into the corners of your eyes.

Namjoon and you are aware of it, that you're able to take his cock pretty well into your tiny pussyhole. He already fucked you countless times onto cloud nine.

Filling you up to your brim with this monster of a dick and his creamy cum. Watching, how it's slowly dripping down out of your gaping hole, seeing it twitching and clenching. Seeing you laying in front of him, completely messed up and wrecked, absolutely fucked out to the maximum. But still wearing this cute, kinda shy and innocent smile on your lips.

Like an inexperienced sixteen year old girl, that mastubated just a few minutes ago and made herself feeling really good. God, he just loves it. This dirty innocence of yours makes him crazy, every new day again and again.

"N-No no no, Daddy! Please not! I-I'm ready, I'm so ready for your cock, I trained my pussy for you-"

"What Darling? How did you train yourself for me, hm? I thought, I was clear enough to you last week. That I'll not accept any kind of touching yourself between these pretty thighs, except from washing and cleaning your sweet pussy lips, right?"

"Y-Yes..."

"...but?"

"I-I just prepared myself for-"

"What did I say? Such a bad Girl you are... I'm so disappointed. You knew I would be, when you do that."

"B-But Daddy-"

"No buts, Y/N. You'll take your punishment without any single murmur, is that clear?", Namjoon says in a steel hard voice and gives you a reprimand slap on your bare, open pussy.

It would be too laborious to turn your so wonderful exposed body around to spank your ass properly for your bad behaviour. And to be honest, it's kinda satisfying to see you flinch and to hear you whine when his hand places careful, but still a little bit hurtful slaps on your clit. Holding you hold yourself open for him, at least taking his punishment like a good girl.

After the 15th hit Namjoon thinks it's enough for this evening. Your whimpering has become too seductive for him and seeing this red swollen clit and your juices overflowing cunt... God fuck, now he doesn't wants anything more than to bury his cock into the tiny pussy of your small body.

His cock stands proudly and with an angry red tip up, waiting impatiently in front of his abdomen for his turn. Smeared all of that precum over his muscular stomach while punishing you.

When you realize, that no more slaps seems to follow and look up to Namjoon, how he enjoys the view you give him, you look at him in pleading eyes and just spread your legs for him even more.

"You're such a greedy, desperate Size-Queen, don't you? Begging and waiting to get stuffed by a big cock. You wouldn't admit it, but you are so proud that you can take my dick without any problem, right? Looking so petite and innocent but in reality such a little cock slut. My precious, petite cock slut...", wispers Namjoon in his deep rapper voice, causing little goosebumps on your delicate skin.

"Yes, yes, yes! Everything you said is true, I'm your needy and desperate cock slut, just for you!", comes in a whiny tone over your trembling lips. Namjoon loves when you start talking in a filthy language about yourself.

Without realizing by yourself, tears starts streaming down your face. Let Namjoon guess, how freaking bad you need his cock in your dripping cunt.

Namjoon hard and arrogant gaze turns into a softer one. It seems like, you'll finally get that what you need the most now.

"Hm Baby? Did you learn your lesson to behave and not to touch yourself, even when you just wanted to train yourself for me?", he asks you in a calm, almost gentle voice when he teases your entrance with the thick crown of his erection.

"Y-Yes, Daddy... I'll behave for now on! I'll listen carefully to your commands."

Finally. Finally he let himself slips into your sweet, warm hole and stretch your tight walls to the maximum, fill you up until he reach your cerfix.

Because, like you already said, that you trained yourself for him, he didn't gives you any time to get used to his enormous length and just starts pounding into you like he's a wolf in his rut. But you love every bit of the animalistic way he fucks you.

After a few powerful thrusts that elicts high pitched screams out of your throat, he lays his right Hand over your abdomen. Namjoon groans in satisfaction and a smug smirk spreads over his lips when he feel himself moving in you. Yeah, maybe you don't have a belly bulge because of his cock, but he can definitely feel himself pounding into you and how he’s stretching all of your amazing little cunt.

"I going to fuck you so hard and so long until your pretty tiny pussyhole is gaping because of my cock. Until I can see my cum soozing out of you, my sweet little Size-Queen~", promises you Namjoon with a devilish smile.

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[mikaverleth]

Fic Writer Tag Game!

I was tagged by @scary-grace ~ thank you!! (Was tagged on @d1rtycha1 but I don’t really do anything w that blog, anything CDF or writing-related goes on this one so here I am)

*** Editing to add all of these stories are in the Cirque Du Freak fandom. It’s the only fandom I’m in. I literally do not care about creating content outside of this tiny stupid niche. Gang gang 😔✌🏻

First Fic: The Vampire Files: Vampires On Vacation i.e. the epitome of painfully dated 2000’s references and wholesome crack. It was born on fanfiction.net in 2008 but (hesitantly) reposted on AO3 in 2021.

Softest Fic: I Live And Love With You This Charming Life ~ a MikaKurda Valentine’s Day oneshot I wrote last year. Vague smut, explicit emotions, tender moments of humour. I usually don’t “like” my own writing once it’s more than a few months old but that story still gets me every time.

Fic I’m Most Proud Of: This Is Us 2.0 ~ Because it’s a rewrite of something I already did, I had a really clear idea of how I wanted it to come together. I wish I had that perspective the first time around, but I’m genuinely happy with how it’s been going. It kept all the humour and softness of the OG, while going deeper into characterization and exploring darker realities of the world they live in.

Fic That Shows My Progress: gotta be Bloodline, god that absolute nightmare writing journey has taught me more than every other story combined. My pacing + editing abilities still suck but I see a huge difference in my writing between the first few chapters and where I am now; able to see the light at the end of the tunnel at chapter 29.

Favourite WIP: I automatically want to say This Is Us because it IS my favourite, but I’m going to put the spotlight on a project I truly love despite the fact that it’s been on the back burner for almost a year: the CDF College AU. I’m really happy with the tiny amount of world building I’ve done so far, and I can’t wait to have more time to develop it!

As usual I’m going to be lame and break the tag chain; most of my writing mutuals don’t frequent Tumblr much these days. If anyone wants to participate, take this as a sign from the universe and jump in :) feel free to tag me in your post, I enjoy reading other peoples’ thoughts on their own work as much as I enjoy talking about my own!

#the 🤡 files