#u really cannot escape them huh

[dark-night-hero]

i love the imagine u wrote where zhongli would give us up for the world 🥹🥹 and it got me thinking:

what if the reader gets incarnated to the current timeline we have and meets zhongli again? they don’t have the past memories but somehow zhongli feels familiar for them. Z thinks this era is the right time for him to take back the past and do things right so he spends time w them but he somehow finds out that reader has a lover (maybe another playable character). Z begins to asks questions abt their lover and idk how their convo would play out but I just imagine where reader gets a question where they answer with “i would give up the world for them (their lover)” and zhong is just hit with past memories and regrets wishing how he could have done things differently idk i j imagine it rly angsty 😭😭

Sorry to disturb but this has been on my mind i cant stop thinking abt it and i wanted to share 😭😭 Anyways, i look forward to more of ur works!! keep up the good work ur doing great 🥺🫶

: following zhongli (world > you)

Imagine how had Mor- Zhongli tried to get close to you, you who obviously was rather uncomfortable with his presence. And the only key to it was the traveller, the same old traveller that had help Liyue and Monstand and is now away on their venture in Inazuma. That being said, nowadays he had been keeping you company.

"You've been off since the departure of the Traveller." Zhongli spoke as he stand right beside you in the harbor.

"Really? I didn't notice." You have him a small smile.

"But I guess you're right, I've been missing the traveller so bad nowadays." You chuckle.

Imagine, at that very moment, Zhongli hoped he didn't not see you. Not when you're looking like that. Not when you're looking so soft, so lovely, obviously longing for someone, someone who definitely wasn't him.

Imagine the way his heart dropped to his stomach. The way his hand clenched around nothing before realising it. And after a few moments of silence.

"Do you.. Perhaps have feelings for the traveller?"

Imagine the way his voice shaken, obviously did go unnoticed by you. The way his amber iris were shaking, hoping and trying to deny reality as best as he can. He had hope for a chance. He knew this time, nothing can go wrong with the two of you. So he approached you, he tried to get close to you, he really did. But perhaps it was already too late, or was it? Did he even had a chance in this new persona he now possess?

"Honestly, I'm not sure myself." You chuckle.

"Or so I thought before the traveller left. Did you know? The traveller confessed to me, but Traveller also told me that they had so many things going on at the moment so.." As you look beyond the sea, you smile genuinely.

"I was wondering that in the world was the Traveller even thinking confessing and leaving me just like that, but now that I think about it. Its wasn't so bad."

Imagine the way you smile, the way your brush back your hair, trying to fix it upon the harsh breeze that have been messing with your hair earlier.

"If the world wants me dead, if the world see me as a threat, what would you do?"

"Huh?"

"What was the question that suddenly came into mind as soon as te Traveller confessed."

"What was the Traveller reply?"

Imagine the way you laugh, the way you smile genuinely as you recall the answer of that silly, adventurous, kind Traveller reply.

Imagine the way Zhongli kept staring at you, you who looked all refesh and happy, bright as you were before. Oh how much it hurts him he was no longer the reason why.

"How about a new world?"

"What?"

"I'll just have to take you to a new world. As you are already aware I wasn't from this world. All we have to do is to escape and find a new world where no one can take you away from me. Although my twin always somes first, I cannot afford to loose you, you know?"

"..." "(First name)? Are you o-?" "Pfff.."

"Did I say something funny?" "No.. hehe, I'm just.. I don't know." Was it relief that you felt?

Imagine the way you let out a sigh. Thinking about the Traveller only makes you miss them more. Perhaps you should have given the Traveller a reply back then but both of you agreed to put more thought into it and give them a reply upon coming back.

"Escape." It was just one word.

"I see." Zhongli replied, this time he looked away from you.

"If you don't mind me asking." "What is it?"

"If it's for the sake of the world, would you be willing to kill them?"

Imagine the way you once again let out a sigh, as you went quite only for a few moments, you face him and tug his sleeve.

"If that person meant the world for you, isn't that enough reason to be selfish?" You chuckle.

"Isn't a world without your beloved would only felt like a living hell?" You added as you never once look away from him.

"It goes on without saying that it's them over the world. That's how much they matter to me, that's how much I love them."

Imagine the way Zhongli chuckle and the way his lips form a bitter smile afterwards nevertheless, he agreed to you and eventually excuse himself. Leaving you all alone in the harbor, all waiting for the Traveller and not him. But it's alright, one way or another, he deserves this.

Imagine as Zhongli walks away from you, you stare at him and as you do so. He looks so lonely. But then you blink as a harsh breeze passes by, turning your look into the horizon, the sun was peacefully setting. How beautiful yet it left a bitter taste in your mouth in which you soon ignore.

"Escape huh."

Imagine, it's not like he did not think about it. But back then, the best choice was to kill you. But after hearing what you said, he starts to doubt if he did perhaps made a mistake, leaving regrets behind. After all, you were right. A world were he couldn't embrace you when you were right in front of him was like a living hell.

Imagine the way it was making him wonder if he was only a little bit selfish, if only he did not listen to the pleads of his people, his friends. If only he tried to find another way. If only he choses the other way. Would the two of you be happy and still together like you were back then?

He doesn't know, after all, those were the choices he didn't take. And this was the consequence he had to face.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2023°

: I think I strayed away from what was asked. Crap, did I do this right?

#genshin impact #dark night hero #genshin imagines #genshin #zhongli angst #zhongli x reader #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact morax #morax #zhongli x yn #zhongli x you #zhongli #aether x reader #lumine x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you

[reeniecon]

- GENERAL LILIA -

" I'm sure you didn't want a monster like me inside your house any longer, right? "

Warning: chapter 7 light spoilers, bad grammar, not proofread, general Lilia, and war lol a little OOC of you squinted.

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

- readers povs -

You can hear it's raining hard outside your cabin, the water droplets one by one crashing to your roof. the weather has been very bad lately it's either raining or thunderstorms. Because of the weather, your garden is not doing very well...

Because of the wind, your fence is falling down. 'oh great' you thought to yourself and went outside to fix it.

while you fix your fallen fence you hear a strange sound and you decide to find out what it is. your eyes widen, shocked by the scene you have encountered

It was a fae... And he was hurt quite badly, it seemed that he had fainted for some time by now.

Without any thought, you brought him inside. Oh, how lucky that he is not too far away from your house and not too heavy....

' oh god, what have I done... Bringing a stranger inside my house, and not only that... He was a fae! ' you thought to yourself and cannot help but sigh at the situation you're in right now.

'but no matter what I have to save him' You're determined to save him, so you clean his wounds and patch them.

Some time has passed since then but the unknown fae haven't woken up, you're quite worried about it...

- Lilia povs -

" Tch, those silver owls didn't know when to stop!" He hissed while running through the deep forest

" CHATCH HIM!! " Silver Owl A says to his teams followed by " That is Lilia vanrouge we have to catch him while we finally get the chance to!!! " They scream.

" Dang it stop being so loud!! " He screams back to them, Lilia can't fight all of them with his injured body not to mention 7 vs 1 is a really bad idea.

" WHERE IS HIM?? " the captain of silver owls screamed.

" AGRHHH!! REALLY WE LOST HIM AGAIN, YOU. FIND HIM NOW! " he ordered his subordinates

" Finally" Lilia mumbled to himself. 'So tired' he thought after that Lilia's vision blurred just like that.

' ugh...the ground is so soft I don't want to leave, huh- THE GROUND ARE SOFT' he processed to wake up from his long sleep, and was startled by his wound had been treated, with caution he observed his body and the surrounding area looking out the glass window he can conclude that he has been not very far away from the last chase, trying to open the windows to escape from whatever situation he was on right now

But he failed miserably in the windows wouldn't open no matter what... He can break it of course but, he cannot break windows that belong to his unknown helper...

The door opened slowly, and there they stood the human that helped him.

" Oh you've finally awakened, do you want soup I just made? I'll get some for you if u want " You told him and asked

In return, Lilia just stared at you observing you from beside the window looking at you up and down ' Oh a human' he thought to himself and smiled

" No, it's okay I'll get going now, thank you for helping me" He replied with a business smile

" Are you sure you didn't want a meal before you go? " You asked once again.

" Yeah I'm sure " He clarify

" I'm sure you didn't want a monster like me inside your house any longer" He said with a mean expression but in a melancholy tone.

"Huh? " Is the only reply that you can utter right now

" I'm sorry that I've troubled you for the past I-don't-know-how-long, but thank you for treating me, and I'm sure that I will pay you back in the future" He stated.

" Mr. Fae? " You called him.

" Yeah? Is my offer too small for you? "

" No no, you don't have to repay me I just wanted to save you that day and I didn't think of any payback from you...And I don't mind having you in my house... Don't worry !! So you can have your soup if you want to? "

His face flushed with embarrassment.

'how can I think it that way!! ' he thought to himself while lowering his head because of the embarrassment he felt...

" Ehem! Sorry for the misunderstanding...and I would like to have dinner with you.. My apologies for thinking bad about you... "

After that, you two have dinner together and you will nonstop hear Lilia apologizing to you the entire evening.

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

An: I'm starting to use Grammarly LMAO I hope my grammar mistakes will be smaller this time hehe

#twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland lilia #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst #twst x reader #general lilia

[joshsbimbo]

needy boy

headcannon

pairing: mommy! reader x needy bottom! mike schmidt

warnings: mommy kink, crying from pleasure, whimpering, shy mike!!, rimming, fingering (male receiving), oral (male receiving)

a/n: can u tell that i recently found out i had a mommy kink and i love needy and submissive boys too much

♡ that poor boy is stressed constantly, i feel like he would want to be babied and be so needy for someone

♡ after a day of work he would be sooo stressed, desperately needing to be with his momma

♡ “hi, my pretty boy.” and his heart just melts, especially when you pet his brown curls.

♡ “hi. mommy. i missed you.” he would lean in and cuddle with you, his head on your breasts while you run your fingers through his hair.

♡ if your chest is small, he would listen to your heartbeat. if it’s bigger, he would use them as pillows and fall asleep to your breathing.

♡ honestly, if he’s really stressed he’ll rant about his job to you in the comfort of your arms and warmth.

♡ he would look up at you with his beautiful sad brown eyes, waiting for you to praise him.

♡ “does my darling need something to calm down, especially after your job overworking such a pretty boy. they’re so mean, huh?”

♡ his rosy cheeks!!! him hiding his face into your chest or your tummy, mumbling a small yes.

♡ he would never ask you to pleasure him, he always asks to pleasure you. but when you offered to, he would get so shy. especially during the ACT yes yes yes…

♡ while you’re undressing him, he’s hiding his face in his hands.

♡ your tongue swirls around his hole, as he’s arching his back for you, so needy, grinding his ass against your tongue. “momma… feels so g-good..!” his cock twitching as his hole clenches at the feeling of your tongue.

♡ “mommy.. please don’t tease me… not right now..” most of the time he cannot finish a sentence, but he’s just so needy and his cock is leaking so much pre cum.

♡ slicking your fingers with lube before entering one inside of him, his cock twitching pathetically as you move your finger in and out of him. small whimpers escaping his pretty lips.. “mommy.. momma.. please..” none of you are sure what he’s asking for, but he cannot stop begging for it.

♡ your second finger, both of them scissoring inside his ass, stretching it out. his hand reached down to stroke himself, as he moans your name. pre cum drips down from his pretty pink tip to the bed sheets, tears trickle down his cheek from the pleasure, his tongue hanging out and gasping for air.

♡ when you enter the third finger is when he is the most desperate. bouncing on them, his hand stroking his cock faster - but lazier, his loud moans and whimpers of your name and “mommy”, and omg he’s so beautifully pathetic.

♡ his face is so pink and red, tears run down his cute face, his glossy lips from his drool, parted as whimpers escape from them, cum landing on his chest and the sheets.

♡ after his orgasm, you have him screaming your name. flipping him over so you can taste his cum, sucking his sensitive tip, him trying to pull you off but he’s so weak from his strong orgasm. “m-mommy! stop..!” but he doesn’t want you to stop, he loved when you wore him out.

♡ your long nails dig into him, and he loved it. gripping his hips so hard that it’ll leave a bruise, taking his sensitive cock deep into your mouth, as he cried so hard. he’s such a pretty crier, especially when it’s from pleasure.

♡ after making him cum inside your mouth, swallowing it all, you’ll cuddle him close, and pet his hair again. whispering “you did such a good job” or “my pretty boy… so so pretty..” while wiping his tears away.

♡ “i love you, momma… it was so good.. hmm i love you iloveyou iloveyouiloveyouuu..” he mumbles before falling asleep in your arms <3

thank you for reading <3 have a lovely day!

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x reader smut #18+ mdni #fnaf smut #mommy kink #lamb writes

[thatdeadaquarius]

*casually slides into asks*

The Creator having to be taught the language of Teyvat, except they don't realise that each country has their own seperate language and so they are just mixing and matching phrases from each of the languages and no one has any idea what they are saying

*slides back out of asks*

Hello hello my regular customer 💃

Before u slide out, have a cookie for the road! 🤲🍪

Ok but this would actually happen to me

Im partial to the headcanon that theres a trade language in Teyvat, but each country has their own native language, w/sub-dialects too (i think thats the word?)

Just like what u said basically, bc like what if they dont have the trade one 💀 it rlly is just diff languages and im just over here like 😃🗨👋

(Gif is u in the center trying to talk to other people on the sides lol)

Srry if uncreative or kinda a flop i am not a fountain of ideas as much as i wish to be😔🙏

This may be only funny to me...

But i did my bestest for you beloved regular <3

Also u didnt ask for this but u got it anyway LMAO <3

(sorry if i accidentally start callin u xiao pfp i couldnt find a name to call u by)

Ok but like?? Was anybody gonna tell you???

Or like r u so incomprehensible now bc youve mashed all their lingos together that they dont even recognize any of their languages anymore 😭😭???

Yall ever heard that meme sound that has like music playing in the background and its just a loop of a guy saying "..HuH?..HuH?...HuH?"

^^^Everyone else trying to understand you

..

...

.....?

WAIT A MINUTE ?!%

OH GOD OH NO PLEASEEDA@!?

I HAD THE WORST THOUGHTTT!!!!

DO U JUST SOUND LIKE A SIM TO THEM??!!!

😰😰😰😰🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲💀💀💀

CRYINGSOBBING

I CANNOT ESCAPE THIS INTRUSIVE THOUGHT PLEASE NOOOOO JDIOOALLFJSLAFQ

IM ACTUALLY LAUGHING ANDBCRINGING PLEASE -> GOD WALKS AROUND SOUNDING LIKE A SIM TO THE REST OF TEYVAT STOP

♧

Ok but so many people r trying so hard to teach u their language more fully so u can commit to one at least

(Off the top of head, Thoma, Tighnari but if u keep mixing them more and more even on accident he gets too frustrated and accepts it lmao, Amber, Ningguang she wants ur first teyvat lang. to be Liyuean so bad, Kazuha just wants to genuinely understand u and you understand them aw what a sweetheart, Ei once again a person who wants u to learn Inazuman first lol, Zhongli, Jean, Ganyu, Alhaitham but he'd be a terrible teacher i can see it now, Ayato, Ayaka, Gorou, Yae Miko just so u can actually read her novels abt you + have bragging right lol)

..

...Its not really working

Which makes sense tbh, at least to me, bc i sure as fuck couldnt initially hear a big difference between Portugese v. Spanish, Korean v. Japanese etc.

Until i like, kept hearing it over and over and finally got it

(it was easier to differentiate between them on paper than auditorily?? auditorally?!? aUDITORIALLY??!! GODAMMIT IS THAT EVEN A WORD)

.

But I could totally see their languages just all sounding really similar to you, or like, theres some bits and pieces from each lang. that mimic others (pantalones Spanish = pants English for example, and its like all u catch are the "pant" sound so ur like?? Ok so same language right? Hence the mix and match)

♤

So this happens on the daily these days,

U r still going and seeing people,

But nobody has managed to communicate to you that its all different languages lol 🤭

Like this below, happens all the time ⬇️

.

Ur having dinner w/ Kamisato clan bc ofc they wanna welcome u!! :D

And Thoma's there, and yall r at the Teahouse, Thoma just got out the hotpot (oh god🤢 ...wait is that you now, r u just like Venti saying oh Barbatos...?)

And they just started dinner but its already a problem w/ur ass LMAO

.

Thoma: "What do you want to drink Our God?"

You: "Ahfs kal aldsplease give me ahdhai?"

Thomas face just like "...😶🙁 oh no" HAHA

Ayaka trying to help him,

"Please repeat that Your Grace?" 😅

You, again lol: "I would dhkaied that aifjwe please :)"

U sound like a SIMMM TO THEMM 😭😭

.

Utter fail poor Ayaka is at a loss for once,

they're trying so hard to be polite and you havent even gotten a drink yet let alone the meal lmao,

Poor Thoma is struggling, hes just like,

"Um, uh, this one??" All worried bc now hes gotta point to the pitchers one by one until u either point or nod

AND THE REST OF THE DINNER IS JUST THAT SITUATION OVER AND OVER

U give up and just start nodding or pointing for food or napkins or drinks all like, "Oh wow my accent must be heavy today 😀🤷‍♂️"

Absolutely clueless, and they cant even figure out how to tell u lol

...

Oh god i dont wanna think about the chaos if ur also only understanding the basics of every language so not only do they not get all ur words, u dont get theirs 💀

Reminder :D = I have a ✨️poll for 100 follower celebration!✨️Yall get to choose what u wanna see me write about,✨️ Check it out!! :) ♡✨️

Cheers,

🌒🌧🌊Aquarius♒️🌌🌘

♡the beloveds:

@karmawonders

(Feel free to tell me if u ever dont wanna be tagged anymore i wont be mad/offended :] !! )

#absolutely GOOFY take #i love it #sagau obsessed xiao pfp asker every response of urs matters SO MUCH to me <3 #blessed be sagauobsessed may u get ur beloved 5 or 4 star in one pull 🙏 #ask box open #genshin impact #genshin sagau #genshin isekai #sagau #my asks #genshin imagines #gender neutral reader #genshin sagau ideas #genshin god reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin scenarios

[an-au-blog]

difan is fine by me~

and i gotta say, SO excited by how much thought you've put into these options!! i think impel down is a super compelling choice, wrt the traumas your au buggy has, and making the marineford storyline still work, AND for that shippy agenda of yours (which i am fully in favor of ftr 😍)

i'm having fun imagining the marines announcing the buggy-roger pirates connection to the confusion of everyone on that ship BUT luffy, who did hear from rayleigh the other day about some buggy guy who used to be on the roger crew with shanks—but it didn't occur to luffy that this could also be HIS buggy until just now

alabasta is also a really interesting choice!! is the interest in history something he picked up after getting to know robin, or is it an interest he always had & is now remembering? (like, idk, maybe he recognizes the poneglyph language? and can't READ it, not without years of study and practice, but he thinks he used to know someone who could…?)

Aaa thank you, difan :')

I imagine that, yes, he picked up his love for history from Robin. Other than being the only responsible one adult, she often has a lot of sleepless nights, just like u!Buggy (who gets horrible night terrors). And I think that they would bond over being night owls. Also when she tries to tell him about the poneglyphs or just approached the topic, he reflexively goes "oh, yeah I know that", and then has a "wait... why do I feel like I know about them?" moment.

No, he cannot read them, but he knows more than the average person about them and about other things related to them. Robin thinks someone in the past before his memory loss taught him, or could read them, or maybe even found some of them...

Idk I just love the idea of Buggy being surprisingly smart especially with history (he asked Roger's crew taught him to be smart because he couldn't be strong like Shamks), so I guess it's self indulgence.

About the impel down thing:

Luffy would definitely be like "huh, so you're that Buggy, okay, cool!" Also I believe that all the prisoners would still want to become him devote followers, but he'd have to say goodbye to them because he's no captain, and the only captain he has is Luffy. (Which essentially makes them both respect Luffy immensely and think Buggy is just sooo modest and sooo loyal, committed, modest, etc, etc.)

I'd forgotten that the straw hats meet Rayleigh in the bar before Kuma sent them off and every detection. So I believe that Buggy already had a little talk with him about his life. And by little talk I mean he knows Rayleigh recognized him, and he finds out they've known each other because they both sailed. He refused to tell him more because he should find it for on his own pace.

(I'm gonna push some shuggy, here again lol):

On the way to Marine Ford, when the person on the snail told everyone that he was a part of the Roger pirates and is an associate of Shanks's, he was terrified. He'd never really seen this red-haired Shanks guy, only knows what Luffy had told him and what he's heard from the grapevine. And sure, Luffy praised him, but Luffy was way too trusting and positive. So excuse him for being untrusting towards a complete stranger.

(To give myself an excuse to push them in physical proximity...) Buggy would get swept by the attention and action, and Luffy would be taken by Law's crew by the time Buggy realizes he's gone. That's when Shanks sees him. His long lost friend and the person he was chasing ever since he found out he escaped from his entrapment on his own.

Shanks seems happy to see Buggy, and he seems like the only better option of getting the hell out of Marine Ford, so he takes him up on his offer for a ride back.

Once in the ship, where Shanks doesn't have to keep up appearances, he finally lets himself give Buggy a proper hug and starts telling him how much he's missed him and how worried he's been.

#unclenapped au #I'm I'M PUSHING MY SHUGGY BELIEVES ON ALL OF YOU #YOU CAN'T ESCAPE #shuggy #shuggy au #op #answers

[strywoven]

@astarab1aze has requested a story : ' iunno wha'chu think yer signin' up fer, buh i promise ya, pippy long-antlers, i ain't 'bout all 'is...sof' shit. ' a lie, but who could really tell? loux was already there and he wouldn't have come had he not enjoyed the affection, however small and simple it'd been in the first place. his interest was piqued, to say the least, and he wasn't actually about to let the magic little shit get off without a thorough bothering. a professional pest, loux was, aiming to get right under their skin and stay there for a while. ' thinkin' jus 'cause yer cute i'ma sit 'ere an' letcha treat me like a princess... nah, nah. siddown, baby cakes. i came t' bug the shit outta ya an' tha's wha' 'm finna do-- '

𝑼𝒏𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

Oh , Gods alive !  Of all the things to be called … ‘ PIPPY LONG-ANTLERS ’ ?  Certainly not the most offensensive of nicknames Kaen has heard in their career ( indeed , they can conjure up much harsher monikers in recent memory ) , but it does cause them to w i l t , to p o u t over the sting to their smothered ego it provides ( this guy , he really thought so little of them sometimes , huh ? ) .  Can’t he do A BIT BETTER than that ?  Weren’t they … Close ( & shouldn’t that mean he might call them nicer things — ) ?

He is h e r e , though , in their apartment ( a space both cozy & meticulously organized , scented sweet of spices & sugary goods ) , and Kaen cannot be happier for it.  They have noticed he’s taken to doing so more and more often , even if they don’t make the offer at first.  And despite Loux’s claim , how he denies his interest in their approach , Kaen is beginning to suspect his change of heart could have been spurred by their gentle affections ; there must be more to it , though , there usually is ( why else be so persistent ? why else try to pull them closer only to shove them away again ? ) .  Kaen is never the sort to push , nor to pry , but sometimes with Loux they get to wondering if it might be easier to SHAKE SOME SENSE back into him ( yes , perhaps literally ) .

A chuff escapes them , puffing cinders from their mouth and left cracking into the air about their antlered crown.  The godling wears a look upon their countenance which expresses a thought of ,  ‘ yeah , sure ’ , but far be it for them to goad him ( for now ) .  Instead , they trot over to Loux , doing promptly as he asked : sitting down … right in his lap.  Just as with the few times afore , Kaen fits neatly against him , their figure a seeming compliment to his own.  Never one to let him have the upper-hand , Kaen quickly interjects , ❝ — Sorreh ta’ say , y’re ne’er a bother ta’ me , Loux.  Gonna take a lot ta’ make me regret lettin’ ye inta’ m’life. ❞  They tip forward , enough to dapple kisses across his face ( less chaste and more lingering , their lips drifting longingly against his skin as if wordless ask for more ) .  They smile against him , ❝ Hm , would be a cryin feckin’ shame ta’ keep bein’ sweet on ye , huh ?  Bet Ah could ruin yer whole career , Loux … An’ Ah’ll enjoy it. ❞  Their tone is unusual , low and mocking , a sensual drawl rife with t h r e a t .  Head tips off to the side , teeth grazing along the pulse in his throat , nipping just so.

#❧ ⸺ how can ( queue ) say there is no story here ? ❞ #❧ ⸺ ch. kaen | answered ❞ #❧ ⸺ ch. kaen | verse i: main ❞ #astarab1aze #astarab1aze | loux #hm hm hm #what do we have here-- #whiplash-- #kaen ; sweetly: ah'm gonna destroy you hehe~

[honeybeewhereartthee]

PINK KKOMAS KOHAKU OUKAWA 43

Spoiler for my stories

Cont of CH 41.

CHau Kohaku walks toward you holding a baby, Mofumofu after he went away when he finally break the fight with those two ( Mad hatter who now arguing about Doll letters that he don't send to his owner yet even so his owner is on the place as he is now. )

CHau Kohaku: omae. (｡Ӧ3Ӧ) I found the (stupid) fluffy me.

Mofumofu: (´∩｡• ᵕ •｡∩`) ~~!!!

Mad unlucky rabbit: (ʃƪ＾3＾）woah what an adorable baby, more innocent looking than the one who holding him.

CHau Kohaku glares at mad unlucky rabbit as he cannot curse out loud in front of a child: (`ー´)

You holds the fluffy one who happily hugs you.

MC: uwahhh. My cute baby.

Mad unlucky rabbit: (´ε｀ ) hmmp. Blob is cute too

MC: (◍•ᴗ•◍) I'll summon blob then.

You snap your fingers and the mooching chubby bunny fall onto aira hands, as he find his lil form in familiar embrace the bunny happily stumps in happiness in Aira hands.

Mad unlucky rabbit: uwahhh my baby, my precious baby! I miss you! (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

you stare up in the sky as if thinking of something: oh we have more visitors.

As you said that a portal appear.

Mad unlucky rabbit takes out ax hammer as he stood beside you: don't worry mc I'll protect you!

CHau Kohaku held you in a secure hold on one hand And the other held a gun pointed at the portal: this presence... (`ー´)

Suddenly four men in suit come out, the most sticking thing about them is that they all share a face, the one in the middle seems to be the leader and wearing shades with his jacket on his arm.

???: Pardon my I intruding into your mini world. But Mikejima Madara is here for your reported by someone, Core Fae MC. B-)

MC: woah it's gang of Madara Mikejima. (*´▽`*)

Doll: your not even worried someone reported you?? (￢ ￢) not that I question it.

MC unfaze but rather excited: ∑d(°∀°d) I never was reported before so it's cool experience!!

Doll: (ー_ー゛)

Mad hatter: hmm (◕દ◕)

Reaper: is this because of the kidnapping??? (；^ω^）

MC: *gasp. ITS CALLED SURPRISED ADOPTION! (っ˘ω˘ς )

CHau Kohaku to Mikejima: get off my spouse kkoma world, Mikejima. (`ー´)

Mikejima and other Madara:... "Spouse you say" (•ˇ_ˇ•)

Mikejima and other Madara: (ಥ﹏ಥ) MY CHILD DONT TELL ME YOUR MARRIED WHEN YOU WORK WITH ME!! ｡ﾟ･ (>﹏<) ･ﾟ｡

Doll: why does this seems familiar scene.

Reaper: ye I think I heard of this before...

CHau Kohaku: who you? Why should I invite the likes of you?(`ー´)

Mikejima and other Madara: ԅ( ͒ ۝ ͒ )ᕤ I was your work partner In DF multiverse police! How could you forget your mama!!

MC: what's that??? (*꒪ヮ꒪*)

Mad unlucky rabbit: ( ꈍᴗꈍ)don't worry about it too much mc.

Reaper: oh I just realize one of the Madara is from my world. One of the after life train conductor. ( ╹▽╹ ) Why is he awake... ヘ（。□°）ヘ

Mad hatter stare at the Madara from twisted wonderland au who stare at his direction with fake ass smile:.. (◍•ᴗ•◍) I saw a familiar face too.

Doll: wow there's stuff like those huh. In the end we can escape the likes of Madara Mikejima. (︶︹︺)

Mikejima: if you won't invite me in your next wedding I will arrest your spouse for kidnapping and transportation of non native to your kkoma world.

CHau Kohaku: you have to face me first before you get to touch my omae. (`ー´)

MC: (っ˘ω˘ς ) ooh then free to attend. Mama is always free to attend.

CHau Kohaku: ....

Mikejima: very good. (ㆁωㆁ)

Then they all give you wedding gifts

Mikejima: I was late because I have to get my fellows to attend the wedding with me.

Doll/Reaper/Mad hatter:.... (・_・;)

MC: (●´u`●) thank you and it's fine.

Mad unlucky rabbit want to comment but he saw that those Madara are really going to arrest you and he don't know much about them. But he sure will make sure it's not wedding of two. (`ー´)

#KOHAKU OUKAWA X READER #PINK KKOMAS

[partyinthemysterymachine]

I'M CURIOUS AF WHO ARE THESE TWO MONSTERS NEAR POOR SCARED HARRY? 😳😳😳👀👀👀

SHAKES AND VIBRATES

oh!! oh you wish to know my monsters?? u wish to hear GOOMT's monsters?? WELL!!!! ha ha ha OOOHHH

OOH I'M GLAD YOU ASKED!!!

(no rly bless u, ilusm, thank u for asking and ur vested interest, i'm REALLY SUPER appreciative ❤️❤️❤️💖💖💖🥚🥚🥚🥚🥚)

and ofc, since u know i gotta, here is the obligatory link to my Harry/James glacial slowburn, Get Out Of My Town, and GOOMT’s corresponding blog for updates, aesthetics, art, and all that jazz!

NOW KEEP IN MIND: these are only descriptions of the monsters in the full picture i did here. there are others in the monster cast too, that are LOTS of barrels of fun, and VERY intricate and intriguing in their own way, just as the ones mentioned/following.

(the picture itself is a part of the GOOMT actor AU, where it’s all just a show, folks! (consider it to the likes of the Silent Hill blooper reel, which we were ROBBED OF in later games >:( 🔪 @ konami 5ever) and you can find its tag here.)

CONTENT WARNING: descriptions of child death, James Sunderland

JAMES SUNDERLAND 

James Sunderland is a stupid little idiot weasel and conduit of Silent Hill. he has so many problems and is not going to do anything about it because he’s a stupid and depressed little wanker who doesn’t have any rights, not that he ever did in his life. 

after the events of Silent Hill 2, James pitched himself into the lake but the town wasn’t gonna let him off easy. it had plans, and needs, for James. our boy here crawled right out of Toluca Lake after haphazardly (and illegally, but whatever; who’s gonna give him a ticket? .. yeah that’s what i thought) parking it in its depths and has remained in South Vale ever since. James sure darn well tried, but he cannot escape through death at his own hand, or otherwise. in fact, the monsters he (and we) have come to know and love have gradually become disinterested in him.

(as for Pyramid Head? huh! well, it’s weird; James hasn’t seen him around in quite a while.. hrm.. really gotta wonder what’s up with that.. ;3c )

what it means to be a conduit of Silent Hill, however, is a little complicated; but the baseline is that he’s Silent Hill’s little battery pack. it needs him and through fun time psychological (and physical, now and again.. but the monsters don’t wanna play anymore, for some reason..) torture, James does what he does best and wallows a sure hell of a lot, thus accumulating nutritious and scrum-diddily-umpious negative power for the town.

oh 👂 you ask, “and for what does it need it, and why James?” great question!

wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?? ;) but you can read about it all riiight here, babey!!

ok ok jk jk (sorta lol) (bc i mean come on. ISN’T he a monster, tho......? ....hrrmmm hmm hmmmmm........ sources point to yes, if SH2 has anything to say about it, LOL)

let’s ACTUALLY start with my HONEST personal favorite:

THE MEMORY OF HARRY

(this monster was very aptly named by a good friend of mine - hi Gospel! - and so credit must be given where credit is due.)

ART BY capitán solsikke

(uncertain of where solsikke is keeping their public art contacts/social media now, so solsikke, if u happen to see this, pls drop ur deets so i can link back to u pls :< pls..)

FURTHER NOTE: to reduce the long post scrolling and bc tumblr’s image insertion format is horrid, i’m going to put additional art/links to the GOOMT blog posts for Memory of Harry, bc y’all REALLY gotta see the actual faithful renderings of him i also commissioned from capitán solsikke

the Memory of Harry first appeared at the end of GOOMT’s Chapter 27: Yeah, Me Neither. his description is as follows (and ADDITIONAL NOTE: Harry is, GOOMT-canonically, left-handed):

A lean man teetered on exhausted legs. Because his entry only allowed them to view him from the side, from that angle they saw he wore a brown leather jacket discolored by smoke stains and was torn at the shoulder. The jeans on his legs were tainted and ratty, and his shoes only held together by determination.

From what could be told of his profile, this man’s face had retained most of its features, despite the crusty, black skin covering every inch. His dark hair lay flat on his head, save for a wispy few strands that fanned loose over his brow. Misshapen scarring created a thick, blinding patch over his visible eye. And lastly, the reason his nonstop weeping was muffled was due to a mouth sewn shut so many times that it was replaced by nothing but a bulky, knotted mask.

But this visage was nothing compared to his cargo. In his hand he held a smaller one attached to a thin, tiny arm, of which was connected to the raw and burned corpse of a little girl. She was on her belly, her head hung like a sack of sand between her shoulders, obscuring her face, and her stringy, oily black hair dangling and swaying with every move the man made. On her body was a tattered blue dress, perhaps once long-sleeved as suggested by the remains of ripped fabric at her elbow, and black shoes over white socks patched by dried orange blood and char. Wherever she was forced to go, she left a wet streak of black and crimson in her wake.

James scrutinized this gruesome new monster hard while it shuffled directionless and wracked with demoralizing sobs. It didn’t seem to know they were there and moved at such a slow pace that James figured they were in no immediate danger. He looked at Harry for guidance.

Harry, however, was in no state to do anything but remember how to breathe. His face was contorted in grief and oddly, recognition. James eyed him, somewhat disturbed by it but moreso uncertain, then took his stare back to their visitor.

The victim of a fire unknown changed his direction, somehow having noticed they were there and faced them. Wherever it could be seen, his skin was indeed blackened, cracked, and flaking like bark, and revealed that both of his eyes were blindfolded by the scarring. Beneath the leather jacket, which sported a broken replica of their flashlights, was a sweater vest that bore a royal blue color somehow notable under the charcoaled damage. It was frayed at the hems and layered over a shirt that was once white. But now that he had confronted the resident and veteran full on, James could have never been prepared for what brought it all together:

The bereaved’s left hand which, until now, had been hidden on his other side, was not empty - and never could be. His arm hung lifeless and his fingers welded, forever clutching, a long, rusted, and bloody steel pipe.

James’s lips parted, and his heart dropped like lead straight through the floors.

Neither moved, and the man, at his snail’s pace, sought to meet them. The next garbled cry caused Harry to twist his bludgeon so hard in his white-knuckled fists that his arms briefly trembled. Each step drew the walking corpse a little bit closer, and still, they couldn’t find their feet. With the pieces having fallen together, the implications of what was before them pulled the ropes in James’s stomach tight enough to make him vaguely nauseous.

James heard himself utter a whisper of his companion’s name. His voice seemed to shake Harry out of his stupor, and in time to choke back sob of his own before it began.

He didn’t even feel his vocal cords nor his tongue move when he spoke again. “Is that..”

“It’s me,” Harry said thickly. “Yeah. That’s me.”

===

he was, considering his importance, intended to be used sparingly - and he is. this monster is (thus far, and understandably,) Harry’s least favorite monster, lmao. Harry would really rather this guy Didn’t, but hey - ain’t nobody here that’re gonna let HIM call the shots any time soon!! 

the Memory of Harry is an extremely foreboding warning and tale on two legs. he is also 100% capable of ruining Harry’s day in a pinch, just by existing. 

(Harry really doesn’t like to think about him.)

CRYING, BURNING WOMAN

(who is taking a moment out of her day to T-pose to get her point across; and of whom has not yet been properly rendered in art form BUT I’M WORKING ON FIXING THAT 👀 @ all local artists with commissions open)

this monster tends to travel in packs of two or more. she’s first seen alone, and is the debut monster in GOOMT’s story, in Chapter 5: Stop Stopping

From the fog emerged a staggering, loose-limbed creature that was closer than either of them had anticipated. It shuffled on buckled legs, its ropey arms swinging carelessly in the momentum. The head drooped on its neck, masking its face from everything but the asphalt, and they ought to be grateful for it. The entirety of this abomination was ravaged in sickening swirls of exposed muscle, black rot eating away at its flesh, and raw, peeling skin. Like most of the hell creatures in Silent Hill, it was an impossibility. The thing moved as though it was treading through tar, but these two were wise to the fact that that shouldn’t be undermined.

The stench of it reached them as soon as they saw it, triggering bile washing up Harry’s throat, and gritted disgust on James’s face. It smelled of charred meat forgotten in an industrial oven fueled by sulfur and was heavy with the unmistakable odor of wet, moldy clothes. Every breath it took sounded labored and painful, and vaguely feminine. In its wake were slicks of thick blood, and if they dared to be any more observant, flung drops of blood from its stiff fingertips as the arms swayed.

she’s seen again, in Chapter 10: Turn Around, Look At What You See

The smell reached them. It was the same they’d experienced before: burnt flesh and moldy clothes. Harry remembered what she looked like, how her arms swung and her spine could barely support her. Her flesh had been peeling, burnt to the bone in some places, and her head hung to conceal her shame. It sounded like there were more than one of these tortured women - perhaps two or three. 

and in Chapter 11: The Pocket Travel Guide To Silent Hill, James reflects upon them - and one other.

There were the crying, burning women, and the creature made of static and fumes. The former were forever smoldering, blighted by singed holes in their baked flesh, and dripped black, acidic ichor. Some were bald, their scalps incinerated, and others had long black hair that was both wet and decorated with kindling flames. When they staggered, their faces were obscured by the way their heads hung on broken necks, and when dead, Harry and James rolled them over to unearth the fact that their eyes were blinded by melted skin and their mouths silenced by a red square made of steel. How their screams were audible from behind the plates, they didn’t know. Their bodies reeked of gasoline and scorched wood. 

===

(sensing a pattern, here? >;) )

now in that, there’s mention of a “creature made of static and fumes”. she is not pictured, and has a different appearance - and she’s a radio mimic. the radio (huh.. radio..... what’s going on with that radio.....? is it broken...?? hrm. better take it anyway) mimic.

as you can imagine, she’s also one of Harry’s beloved favorites. ;3c

and finally, however quite (so far) unfairly depicted and appearing MUCH later into the story:

THE LOST BOY (1 of 2)

his (and his better(?) half’s) first appearance comes in Chapter 54: Touché

And before one could say “knife”, galloping, meaty claps on vinyl tile heralded the proper, and fashionably late, introduction of the quadrupedal couple. Upon emerging into the artificial headlights, however, they recoiled. At once, and reminiscent of their earlier behavior on the security monitor, Harry and James watched them volley apart. Furthermore, their emotions seemed to be unchanged from the scene with the girl in the corridor.

Demonstrating that behavior in person sowed the seeds of interest, for as intimate as they seemed to be, they also showed signs of having a mysterious, innate fear of being seen together. The predators chose their quarry and took sides on an archer’s bow. During their slow, deliberate advance, they verified the surmised size discrepancy as correct  - and the larger made James its target.

Its hunched skeleton made it hard to decipher its entire build, but anyone could see that it boasted the hallmarks of an athlete: lean, sturdy, balanced, and if it stood on its legs, would probably surpass the six foot mark. In contrast, its partner, who had business with Harry, posed an all around average height and body type. As far as fitness went, this was one that strongly hinted it preferred the bleachers, as there was barely any muscular definition on it at all.

Other than that, the pair’s bodily design was nothing special. Moist and raw burns covered their unpalatable topography from head to toe, mapping out ice cream swirl streets hued in apricot and ripe peach, and pronouncing the sewage brown lagoons dotting them like Dalmatians. Their figures were ugly to be sure, but they weren’t the focus - their faces were.

At one side of the mouth, a necrotic, flat, fabric string vertically secured the starting base of a pattern. It was a simple motif, too: laced shoes. Criss-crossing over the lips and tunneling north and south through septic punctures ringed by crystalized pus eyelets, the strings wove impenetrable diamonds all the way to the other side, triple-knotted in gunky yellow paste, and the uneven ends left dangling. Once upon a time, these mouths must’ve had something to say, or needed to say; but none were permitted to listen. They, like all other fiends, were victims of silence.

Harry and James didn’t much care for the trendy, stringent enforcement of ‘silence is the best policy.’ A while ago, Harry, at least, began to suspect that there was significance behind each individual, unique means; granted, the allegation seemed like no-brainer. All aside, the two here helped build his case.

He’d chew on it later.

Two slanted holes pretended to be a nose, and above them sat two anomalous eyes.  One visualized the world through an eternal squint, the eye semi-obscured by a grafted skin bandage. The second, in juxtaposition, told further tale of torture. Stapled to brow and cheek were the upper and lower lids, stretched beyond capacity to plate the living, twitching centerpiece netted in spider silk threads. Firetruck red painted the inverted inner lids, and by merciful grace of the monster’s exotic biology, the socket and orbit glittered from moisture that preserved its functionality.

===

RUBS NASTY LITTLE FLY HANDS

ooh, this pair - OOOH, this P A I R. i LOVE this double trouble. i was VERY excited to introduce them, because they are A TREAT. these boys are a first for GOOMT’s story for being boys, so gosh..... gosh, ho hum hrmmm hmm mmmmrmmm hrrrrmmmm, wonder what that could mean??? 

>;3c

but yeah, as you can see - their details are quite immense and uhhh.. all we got up there right now is zombie Orange Julius lookin’ out for his next big orange to squeeze. soon, buddy.... don’t worry, my guy; soon.....™️

aaaaand THAT is THAT ON THAT!!! 

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR INTEREST IN MY MONSTERS OF GOOMT, AND GOOMT ITSELF 😭😭😭😭 WORDS CANNOT DESCRIBE MY THANKS AND JOY (despite the 232,398 of them in GOOMT so far but eh, who’s counting)

forreal tho THANK YOU so much for your ask and your curiosity, it means the absolute world to me and i’m shoving it into my mouth and storing it in my cheeks. GOOMT is the love of my entire life and also my bane of existence and i LOVE talking, and sharing aspects of GOOMT* for all that will listen :3c

*except for lore, future planning and scenes, and things not otherwise already published because i am a VERY superstitious writer and VERY cautious of what, and to whom, i share. i won’t answer questions or talk about GOOMT’s lore and planning to anyone - not even Ren, my best friend and patient editor since ch10, who doesn’t even go here. so rest assured, it’s not (the royal) you; it’s me. 😔

AND NOW since you’ve either made it or scrolled to the end, the detailed depictions of the Memory of Harry by capitán solsikke under the cut, and their original posts from GOOMT’s blog:

POST FOUND HERE

POST FOUND HERE

AND BONUS ROUND: ACTOR AU

POST FOUND HERE

#silent hill #long post #goomt #ches writes #YEEHAW BABEY!!!! #THANK U TUMBLR USER HEATHERCHASESYOU YOU ARE SUCH A FUCKIN LEGEND #i s2g u make the world go 'round...... ur a total and undeniably genuine soul 😭🥚❤️❤️🙏🙏❤️🥚🥚🥚🥚🥚❤️❤️💖💖🥚🥚🥚 BLESSINGS ON U FOREVER

[mejomonster]

It's really enraging and stressing me out how the political right in America is trying to make such extreme human harming laws. Like yes I know they have always been like this

But like recently they keep trying to destroy roe v wade, when for decades after that ruling it had been pretty mucj assumed to be an issue Republicans ran on for votes but never planned to get rid of. Ppl could still go to another state if they had money and get one. If u had a fucking health issue where pregnancy was gonna kill you then if u had health insurance there was a reasonable chance u could find a doctor to help (tho they were sure making it hard to access that help and screwing anyone who was poor). But widespread people were not trying to make miscarriages, normal health situations, illegal that could take a mom away from her born kids and put her in prison for an unfortunate health circumstance. Before, I was not worried of where in the USA I need to live to ensure if I get raped and have a dangerous pregnancy which will result in my death (which is super high since my 2 uteruses situation I have means that my risk of miscarriage miscarriage high, ans pregnancy I'd need aborted for survival reasons is high, and iud cannot be placed in my body, and I got too many health issues to tolerate hormonal birth control, so I guess fuck any person wirh health issues huh). I'm fucking horrified if my sister wants another kid she may have a miscarriage like normal people can happen to have, and that fuckers wanna pass laws about it. I'm horrified my nieces might have a dangerous pregnancy one day and have no way to abort and ill lose a family member. And its not an unwarranted fear, the current laws they're passing and aiming to pass don't give a shit about real health or how bodies work. They don't care how many people die and children lose parents to death or prison. They don't care how pregnancy actually medically works. They just want to remove healthcare. Remove the access to life saving healthcare from patients and their doctors, because ro them if more women die and women can't escape being tied to their rapists through children and more little girls fear being attacked then more people can be hurt ans controlled. You want to save children's lives? You increase good medical care ans healthcare and pregnancy care, you increase support for parents, you don't fucking ban abortion making anyone pregnant at risk of death and under penalty of laws that don't understand or care about how the medical reality of pregnant bodies work. Don't want abortions? Make birth control super accessible, healthcare for all, support for victims of violence and for parents. But these laws aren't about helping make lives saved or helped. Anyway not tje point

The point is when I was born Sodomy was illegal. But it wasn't illegal to say I was gay to someone at school, or make a gsa club at school, or air gay media on television. Now they wat to make laws to even ban discussion of lgbt people. To harm kids. When I grew up trans people were getting killed, and still are. But there weren't people making laws saying if u said u were trans u would be reported to the fucking government.

So many laws they're passing and pushing right now feel they're angling for pre 1950s rights, lack of rights, and just as MUCH active harm on human lives as possible. Like they want to go back to killing women, children, men, anyone who is a minority they don't like or poor. And if they cant lynch then they'll make our existence illegal, make a system thst kills us for existing. I'm so enraged.

When i grew up shit was bad for gay people but also no one was pushing for laws to make it illegal to even mention we ARE gay. Then there's all the critical race theory laws they're trying to push. To make it so racism canr be discussed in public schools. So they can harm minorities more and have no public platform for those minorities to bring it up. I am just

I know we are all so fucking tired and worn down. But the stuff they're pushing to do is so fucking horrific, so cruel and harmful to most people alive or a person you know. I don't even know what to do about it all

#rant #feel free to ignore. politics are just upsetting me so mucj

[queenhawke]

Mythic Quest + text posts part 15

#mythic quest #mythic quest: raven's banquet #mqtxts #mine: mq #simply too lazy to tag every character #anyway do u know. how mad i got when i realised braddavid is a blonde/dark haired slash ship #u really cannot escape them huh #cursed tbh #i mean i realise im part of the problem but still #only just realised poppy isn't in this one at all #SORRY POP I LOVE YOU YOU'RE MY FAVOURITE B*TCH

[inkykeiji]

little bit of poison in me

characters: dabi | todoroki touya, takami keigo | hawks

genre: smut and angst

notes: okay FINALLY!! very loosely inspired by tag you’re it by melanie martinez!! uhh dabi’s a drug dealer, keigo’s in his third year of university and a track star, reader’s in her first year of university. please, please pay attention to the warnings below! if keigo’s your comfort character and you cannot handle him being physically abusive and a drug addict, then you might wanna sit this one out! promise he’ll be painted in a more sympathetic light in part two. | aaah dedicating this to @rat-suki​, because ur the only one who’s actually known the details of this fic since november, and because i put a lil something inspired by new moon in there for u ehehe <333 | title credit: tag you’re it by melanie martinez

warnings: 18+, noncon/dubcon, physical abuse, drug use & abuse + graphic depictions of addiction, mindbreak, overstimulation, manipulation, lowkey yandere vibes (which will get worse), daddy kink, a brother a lil too obsessed with his sister + questionably close sibling relationship, generally toxic relationships (possessiveness, jealousy), rough sex, semi-public sex, cumplay/cum feeding, minimal prep, degradation/dumbification, choking, kinda brat taming???

words: 14.8k

synopsis: 

“Do you wanna come home with Daddy, princess?”

He’s caging you between his body and the murky convenience store window as he asks, both palms pressed flat against the grimy glass.

No. You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t, can almost hear your brother’s voice in the back of your mind telling you not to. But you’re too enticed in sapphire to care, drawn into pretty, almost glittering blue fire, letting the flames lick your skin as you immerse yourself in it, deeper and deeper and deeper, and allowing it to wrap itself around you, to consume you, to knock the very breath out of you as you gaze into it.

“Okay,”

It’s well past midnight, but the moon is still hanging high in the sky, illuminating the dingy shopping mall parking lot, its reflection gleaming on the wet, cracked concrete. Breathless little laughs and squeals of surprise and pleasure ring out among the vast empty space, your own voice echoing around you.

“Gonna get ya, baby,”

He’s chasing after you, legs longer than yours, faster than yours, mischievous little growls getting caught in his chest as you daintily leap away from him, just out his grasp again, the tips of his fingers grazing the soft linin of your dress.

“No!” you giggle, pushing your burning thighs to keep running just a bit longer, propelling you forward.

But he’s getting closer and closer with each pound of his boots against the pavement, encroaching on you more and more with each tiny gasp exhaled through your parted lips.

Eventually, he catches you, like he always does, large hands wrapping around your hips as strong arms pull you backwards against a solid chest. You’re both panting, chests heaving with exertion, bubbles of laughter escaping your throats.

“Tag,” he breathes, hot breath curling around the shell of your ear. “You’re it,”

His arms encircle you, holding you tightly, your own arms covering his, little fingers digging into the skin of his forearms almost possessively as he uses his strength and bodyweight to guide you towards the car—a 1959 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz that runs like shit and guzzles gas like no tomorrow. But it’s pretty, and he loves it, with all its chrome and argyle blue, glittering in the moonlight.

“You’re being bad, princess,” the words are mumbled against the skin behind your ear, and you can feel the smirk on his lips. “Good girls don’t run away from their Daddies like that,”

And he says the word with so much disdain, cruel and mocking, making you feel sick for liking it.

“Baaad girl,” he whispers, dragging the word out.

A tiny pout settles on your face, eyebrows knitting. “Am not,”

“Are too,”

“Am not,”

“You are,” he chuckles, pressing you against the damp metal of his car as you finally reach it, his body still draped over yours. “What? You gonna fight me on it?”

Squirming a little in his grasp, you turn to face him, a playful glint shining in your glassy eyes as you nudge your nose against his. “I just might!”

“Hah,” the breath of air washes over your face, scorching and sweet, a stark contrast to the humid, cool air surrounding you, causing your exposed flesh to break out into chills. “I’d like to see you try, dollface,”

“Oh, I’m sure you would,” you murmur, yelping when his fingers dig into the supple flesh of your ass through your dress, grabbing a healthy handful and squeezing in retaliation.

“Mmm,” he hums nonchalantly, pushing his forehead against yours, eyes nothing but gaping pupils outlined by a thin ring of sapphire. “You gonna show me?” his rough voice fades into a whisper, unblinking eyes holding yours steadily. Calloused hands are sliding up your thighs now, slipping underneath the thin material of your dress and taking the hem with them.

“N-Not here,” you breathe, trying and failing to pull back from him, eyes widening in alarm as you feel his fingers hook in the waistband of your panties.

“Yes, here,” he responds, voice smooth as velvet as soft lips drag along your neck, sharp teeth sinking into your flesh like a hot knife slicing through butter.

Panic is beginning to rise in your chest, your throat closing up, and you choke a little on your words, shaking your head frantically. “Please, Dabi, no, we could just—”

“Wow, you really want me to bruise that pretty ass of yours,” he smirks, cutting you off and pulling back to gaze at you lazily, lips glimmering with saliva.

“No, I—”

“Especially with how much you’re saying no today,” he tuts his tongue in disapproval. “Such a bad girl; a silly, little, stupid, bad girl,”

Each word is punctuated with a sharp slap to your scantily clad ass, each bringing with them a sharp sting that you can hear, echoing out among the parking lot.

“Not bad,” you whimper, eyes shutting tightly against the familiar burn of tears. “Not bad, j-just wanna—”  

“Wanna what?” he teases, voice mocking yours as his palm collides with your ass again. “Huh?”

“W-Wanna—Want you to fuck me right,” you rush to say, the words exhaled as a singular huff of breath.

“Oh?” he pulls back slightly, eyes searching your face, his own features contorted with false concern. “Is that so?”

You nod quickly, eagerly, and he can see it in your eyes, how desperately you want him to buy your lie.

But you know he hasn’t the moment that trademark smirk returns to his face, mouth curling up at the edges as he leans forward, lips moving against your ear. “I think that’s a boldfaced lie, babygirl,” his voice is low, sinister, dangerous, traces of amusement sown into his tone. “I think it’s because you don’t want anyone to see how much of a little whore you truly are,”

“D-Dabi, please,” you whimper, vision blurry with tears as you paw at his jacket, pleading with him.

He thinks it’s so cute when you beg, his silence imploring you to continue, urgently rambling on in your quest to convince him.

“I-I want you to really fuck me; I want you to leave b-bruises all over my body, I want to feel you in my tummy, I want you t-to stuff me so full of cum that it goes to my brain and makes me stupid, please Daddy, I want—”  

Slim fingers wrap around your neck and squeeze, forcing a cry of surprise from your lips and effectively cutting you off. “I’m gonna make sure you remember those words, sweetheart,”

   ✰          ✰          ✰            

The thump of your own heart echoes in your ears as the Cadillac Eldorado thrums under your body, the leather sticking to the bare skin of your thighs.

“Open,” he demands, delivering a harsh slap to the thigh nearest to him, eyes never leaving the road as his foot presses down, car accelerating. Your thighs obey immediately, spreading as far as they possibly can in the cramped space, knees knocking against the door and center console box.

A rough hand, decorated with callouses and scabs, kneads the flesh once before sliding up, up, up, and then hooking in the elastic of your panties, Dabi spitting out a curse as he lets it snap back against your skin.

“Take those off,” he seethes, aggressively ripping his hand away from you as if he’s aggravated that you’re even wearing them at all. Your dress hitches up around your waist in your haste to obey, little fingers catching in the lacy material as your hips squirm, seatbelt cutting into your flesh, wiggling a little as you pull the dainty material down your legs.

He’s already holding his hand out expectantly and you press them into it, waiting for his fingers to close around the garment before taking your hand back. He feels them, rolling the fabric around in his palm, between his fingers, chuckling darkly as he chucks them over his shoulder a moment later, onto the dirty ground of the backseat.

Those were your favourite, but you know better than to say anything, forcing your expression to stay neutral, to keep your nose from wrinkling up in distaste.

“They’re wet, but not nearly wet enough,” he tsks as if he’s disappointed, hand finding your thigh again. This time, they part instantly, without any verbal prompting, hips pushing towards his palm as it skims the skin of your inner thigh.

“Now, I’m gonna play with this cute lil clit of yours,” he begins, fingers brushing the sensitive nub, words tumbling from his lips slowly, lazily, unhurried, as if you’re stupid, as if you need an ample amount of time for each word to sink in.

It makes your pussy throb, and the borderline malicious smirk that spreads across his face tells you that he felt it, too.

Speaking through his smirk, he continues in the same patronizing voice. “And you—you’re going to be Daddy’s good little girl and get nice and wet for him, so he doesn’t hurt his cock when he fucks you. Do you think you can do that for me, sweetheart?”

Yes Daddy, of course Daddy, anything for you, Daddy.

It’s torture in the most delightful way, coarse pads of his fingers just barely grazing your clit, just enough for you to feel it, just enough for you to want—no, need—more. Heat, thick and sticky, pools in the pit of your stomach, thighs straining to open impossibly wider, edges of the car’s interior digging into your knees as you desperately try to shift your hips, to press further into his touch, to evoke anything harder than these teasing, feathery touches.

Blunt nails sink into the tender flesh of your inner thigh, hard enough to make you yelp, entire body flinching from the sudden pain. “Big girls use their words,” he chastises, voice fading from a growl into a pleasant, light tone.

“Please, Daddy, I-I want more,” you whimper, hips still trying to catch your clit on his fingers, on his palm. “Touch me more,”

The hum that vibrates in his throat has your heart sinking, corners of your mouth tugging down as you blink against the sting of disappointment—you know that hum, know it all too well, know all of Dabi’s bizarre mannerisms at this point and what they mean for you. And that hum, the one that only lasts for a moment, the one that’s barely a noise at all, the one that doesn’t even sound like he’s considering anything, means no.

His eyes don’t leave the road in front of him, despite the fact that his car is going faster, and faster, and faster, whipping through the empty city streets, neon buildings and harsh florescent lights becoming nothing but a blur. And if it weren’t for the hard lump straining against the black denim of his jeans, you’d figure him disinterested; facial features relaxed, breathing normal, entirely unresponsive to the pathetic little noises he’s so effortlessly pulling from you.

It ignites a fire in your chest, blazing with the need to make him react, to make him pay attention to you.

Wearing your best pout, you arch your back a little, the action shoving your hips towards his hand again. “Daddy, Daddy,” you whine, low and needy in the back of your throat, looking at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Please, touch me more? Please, Daddy, I want it so bad, want your cock so bad, please, help me get wetter? Wanna be dripping for you, Daddy, I wanna be soaking for you,”

“Fuck,” he breathes, smirk growing into a full grin as he glances at you from the side of his eye. “Such a brat,” he shakes his head, through the grin is still present on his face as he finally presses two fingers against the swollen bud, rubbing slow, hard circles into it. “You better be drenched for me by the time we get home, you little bitch,”

   ✰          ✰          ✰            

Large hands are on your body as the two of you stumble up the stairs, nimble fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, obscene sucking and slurping amplified by the stairwell, bouncing back to your own ears, saliva slicked lips slipping and sliding together messily as teeth clack together, practically tripping over each other’s feet and fucking Christ he needs you, he needs you now, his cock hurts, goddamn it.

And you’d be lying through your teeth if you said you didn’t absolutely love it when he gets like this, all clingy and needy and desperate, hushed little whines catching in the back of his throat, fading from deep, rumbling growls as rough hands paw at you.

A sharp gasp is knocked from your chest as he slams you against the wall on the landing of floor three with such force that your head ricochets off the concrete, your resounding cry silenced by Dabi’s lips, tongue invading your mouth as he swallows your beautiful little noises of pain.

You can feel his cock pressed up against your hip, hot and hard and throbbing through the denim that conceals it as he grinds against you, fervent, eager, impatient.

That panic is bubbling up in your throat again, bitter and acidic and eroding, rendering your voice weak and frail as scabbed knuckles drag across your bare thighs, inching higher and higher.

“Da-Daddy, wait,”

“No,” he growls, biting down on your shoulder hard enough to break the skin. “I’m done waiting,” hands are rucking up your dress. “You made me wait that whole fucking car ride,” sharp hipbones keep your thighs spread. “I can’t wait any longer,” the clinking of his heavy belt buckle echoes throughout the stairwell, sending chills pebbling across your skin.

And then he’s forcing himself into you, shoving his cock into your tight little hole, a choked cry bouncing off the dirty white walls as your eyes squeeze shut, tears leaking from the edges.

The stretch is magnificent, little cunt aching as it sucks in his thick cock, and you swear you can feel the burning in your belly, little pinpricks of pain shooting through your gut.

“G-Gonna tear me in half,” you wail, head falling forward, forehead bumping against his.

“Shh, baby, Daddy’s got you,” a callous laugh leaves his lips after he spits out the nickname, the singular word filled with such derision it must sting his tongue. Large hands hoist you up, and your legs immediately latch around his waist, seeking comfort in the monster that hurt you.

“Daddy, Daddy,” Tears drip down your cheeks as you bury your face in his shoulder, the word escaping your lips in tiny half-sobs catching in your throat, little fingers curling against the worn leather of his jacket.

And he can’t help but soften a little as you weep into his neck, thinks it’s so cute that you need him so bad, your little stuttered breaths hot against his neck as you cling to him, reminding him that he is the only man that can make you feel like this; he is the only man that can make you cry while simultaneously finding solace in his embrace. It makes his blood surge, sends cinders searing up his spine, gives him a high better than any other drug every could, and he finds himself hushing you gently, twitching cock buried in your cute lil cunt, snugly pressed against your cervix.

“Okay, okay,” he’s saying as his hips begin to pump, slow and languid. “Quiet, Daddy’s gonna make it feel good, alright? Daddy’s here, Daddy’s gonna make it go away,”

The sweetest, airiest little mewls of Daddy, yes, Daddy, soak into the inky skin of his neck, sandwiched between uneven hitched breaths. He’s gaining speed with each thrust, though, working up a steady rhythm that has you practically bouncing on his cock, little wails of pain fading into whimpers of pleasure. The combination is dizzying, infecting your mind with a haze that is only Dabi, surrounded by him, immersed in him—glowing sapphire and burning hickory and spicy nicotine—unable to quell the little noises spilling from your throat, each one louder than the next with each bump against your cervix and drag against that spot.  

“That feel better, princess?” he breathes out, pausing just to readjust his grip on your ass—to angle your hips just right, chuckling at your selfish, needy whine—and then he’s drilling his cock into you, head pounding against the spot that has his name escaping your lips in high pitched squeals that break in your throat, heavy belt buckle clanking against the wall with each of his thrusts.

It sends sparks of mind-numbing pleasure burning through your abdomen, your chest, straight to your very core and collecting there, each spark adding to the growing fire that’s beginning to blaze, followed by intense spears of pain, slicing through your gut and down the muscles of your thighs, legs beginning to quiver as ankles hook tighter, tighter, tighter, the heels of your sneakers digging into his back dimples, trying to get him closer, closer, closer, desperately begging for more, more, more.

Yet it’s all so much, too much, please, Daddy—the harsh sound of metal colliding with concrete mingling with your pathetic whines and his panted breaths, rough whimpers catching deep in his chest, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard a more beautiful sound.

“C’mon, babygirl,” he gasps, pace never slowing, never faltering once, even though there’s glistening dewdrops of sweat decorating his hairline, inky strands beginning to stick to the skin of his forehead. “Be a good girl and cum for Daddy, cum before someone catches you being such a sweet little—God, Christ—a sweet little slut for me,”

And your cunt submits, would never dare to disobey a direct command from its master, from its owner, clenching around him as you cream all over his cock, a sharp cry ripping up your throat as your nails scrabble against leather clad shoulders.

A growl rumbles, deep and dark and dangerous in his chest, as his hips piston a few more times before they still, tips of his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, branding his name in tiny blotches of navy and violet as his cock throbs, coating your insides with spurts of thick cum.

Head falling forward, his forehead collides with yours, chests heaving and breathing laboured. And he can’t help the little chuckle he huffs out as you wiggle your hips a little, eyes still closed as you rock in little motions against him, clit catching on his pubic bone.

Needy little bitch.

But he isn’t nearly done with you yet, because that desire, thick and sticky in the very pit of his stomach, only wants more, insatiable and voracious, desperate for more of your whines, more of your tears, more of your cunt.

You’re gonna make good on all those words you spewed in the parking lot, baby, he’s nearly snarling at you, cutting off your whiny complaints as he drags you up the final flight of stairs, stopping halfway to haul you over his shoulder with a huff and a deft slap to your ass, carrying you the rest of the way to his apartment.

“Dress, off. Now.” He orders as he throws you onto his mattress, pulling his shirt over his head, belt buckle jingling as he walks, still hanging undone.

And then he’s crawling over your naked body, lips attacking yours, smashing and smacking and slurping, a large hand wrapping around your wrists as he shoves his tongue into your mouth, laving over yours in slow, deliberate drags, pinning your wrists against the cold cracked drywall behind his nearly bare, minimalistic bed, squeezing hard enough to grind the bones together between a singular rough palm—a silent warning—and forcing a yelp from your throat into his.

“Don’t move them,” his lips mumble the command against yours before he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, between sharp gleaming teeth that bite down hard, sinking into the soft flesh and refusing to release until he tastes copper, the tip of his tongue tracing the harsh indents left behind, licking at your lip once more before pulling away completely.

“I want you to leave bruises all over my body!” he mimics, voice absurdly high as lips skim the curve of your neck, tongue darting out to trace along your collarbones. “Isn’t that what you said, baby?”

But you can’t answer, too busy sucking on your now swollen lip, trying to soothe the incessant throbbing as metal stains your tongue. That’s disrespectful, you think you hear him growl into your unmarred skin before something sharp pierces your nipple, clamping down around it and tugging. A resounding cry tears through your throat as your body instinctually bows off the bed, pressing further into him, a muffled snicker vibrating against your chest before his tongue flicks, licks, slobbers, thick strings of saliva glimmering in the dim light as he pulls away, breaking and slapping against his chin.

“Answer me next time I ask you a fucking question,” The words are spit so harshly they slice into your skin, head nodding fervently before he’s even finished speaking, blinking the bleariness from your eyes. Smoldering sapphire holds your gaze for a moment, burning into your very soul—digging, prying, searching, scrutinizing, his breathing slow, calm, controlled with each deep rise and fall of his bare chest.

You aren’t sure what it is he’s looking for as he peers into the depths of your eyes, but you don’t dare let your gaze stray from his, don’t dare blink, don’t dare breathe until he breaks the spell, blinking once as his lips curl up into a wicked smirk.

“I’m gonna turn your body into a work of art,” he promises you, voice low and guttural, forcing thorns of ice up your spine as lips drag across your jaw.

And he does, paints little galaxies across your skin with his tongue and his lips, asymmetrical blotches of blues and greys and purples, ivory bones scraping against your flesh, signing his name into his masterpiece in deep, dark indents of crimson and violet.

It aches and it pulses and it stings, glittery trails of salt water staining your cheeks, tiny shimmering droplets clinging to your clumped, spiky lashes, adding the finishing touches on the greatest piece he’s ever created.

And it’s so pretty, you’re so pretty when you’re like this, baby, covered in navy and plum and carmine, and, fuck, it’s a shame you won’t stay like this.  

It seems he’s in a trance for a moment, in awe of his craftsmanship, of what he’s produced, breathing laboured as shining azure eyes drift over your body, slowly, purposefully, as if he’s memorizing every single nick, bite, scrape, bruise, burning the image into his brain forever.

His gaze floats back up to yours, holding it for a moment, pupils big and gaping and swallowing you whole—before something snaps, breaks, and he comes back to himself, remembers why he did it.

Narrowing slightly, his eyes darken, that sadistic smirk returning to his lips. And then he’s shoving his cock into you again, hard and leaking and the prettiest red you’ve ever seen, cute little cunt stretching around him for the second time tonight.

But little girls who act like brats deserve to get fucked like brats, he tells you in a snarl, slender fingers collaring your neck and squeezing slowly, slowly, slowly, crushing the column of your throat.

Everything’s beginning to grow hazy, vision sliding in and out of focus as those calloused hands continue to tighten, and tighten, and tighten. He looks like some sort of sick angel as he looms above you, nothing more than a shadow of sharp edges and smooth curves, inky spikes and glowing sapphire, haloed by the weak neon light that spills in through grimy windows. Jutting bones prod the soft flesh of your inner thighs, carving out a space just for them as his hips snap viciously, relentlessly, obstinately.

And it’s all overwhelming, overstimulating on every front, uncontrollable tears streaming from your eyes as you choke roughly on your own sobs, each one being forced from your chest by your Daddy’s harsh thrusts, only to get caught on the palm pressed to your airway, ears ringing from the slap of skin against skin overlapping those harsh words spit at you in his falsely saccharine voice.  

Aw, no, baby, wispy words caressing your cheek as they float by, eyes starting to roll back in your head. Don’t pass out on me, dollface. I want you awake when I fill your cunt with cum.

The pressure around your throat lets up just a hint, and you wheeze in air, a rush of cold flooding your body. You can feel it, that contrasting, familiar heat scorching the pit of your stomach, beginning to curl in on itself more, and more, and more with each pump of his hips, until it explodes, your body arching off the mattress, unintentionally pressing into the hand adorning your neck, restricting your air entirely.

The chuckle that leaves his lips as you choke yourself is dark, would send spears of ice slicing through your veins if you weren’t otherwise focused on trying to fill your lungs with air. Nothing leaves your mouth other than a few choked whines, barely more than a huff of light breath.

But his hips don’t slow, and he’s glaring down at you with parted lips and lidded eyes, pupils gaping, so large you’re unable to detect even the slightest hint of blue outlining them—nothing but big black orbs, absorbing everything in their vision, sucking everything from you, every hitched sob and soft whine and gorgeous wince, each time he pounds against your cervix.

And it’s how your looking up at him—with those gleaming, adoring eyes and that blissful, fucked out grin—that has him cumming with a shuddered f-fuck, forcing his eyes to stay open as he pumps you full of thick cum, desperate to catalogue every little expression that crosses your face, the way your eyes flutter slightly, the way your neck arches, the tiniest little moan slipping through chapped lips as his cock pulses inside of you.

You must pass out for a second, Dabi’s calloused palm lightly tapping against your cheek as he murmurs to you in that sinful, silky voice, sugared sentiments twining around your exhausted body.

Wake up, princess. Daddy isn’t done playing with you yet.

Words tumble past your lips in a mumble, though you aren’t quite sure what you’re saying—everything feels hazy, like you’re gazing through a thin cloud of smoke, and despite the fact that you can barely move, your body feels light, almost floaty in a way, entirely numb to the immense pain it has endured thus far.

Two fingers, coated in thick, gleaming cream, are thrust into your gasping mouth, tongue met with the salty, bitter taste of his cum. You cough around the sudden intrusion, immediately obey when he orders you to clean, sluggish tongue sliding up and lapping at and slipping between them, sucking the digits free of cum.

Good girl, he leans away and your heart flutters weakly at the praise, saliva slicked fingers dipping into your hole again to gather more.

“C’mon,” he breathes as he brings his fingers to your mouth again, sticky viscous glops collected on his fingers. They catch in the dim light streaming through the window, a unique mixture of pale moonbeams and hazy neon, cum almost glittering, almost pretty. “You wanted me so bad, didn’t you?” your head’s moving—nodding, you think, you can’t really tell, breathing shallow as your eyes belatedly follow his glistening fingers—and he smirks down at you. “Then eat my fucking cum,”

Lips part instantly, mouth falling open as your tongue lolls out, eyes drifting up to his and pleading mutely, begging for the substance—the very essence of him—and nearly moaning when he drags his fingers across the saliva coated muscle, curling and sucking his digits back into the heat of your mouth.

And he’s fucking high off of it all, pupils blown to hell, outlined by the thinnest ring of cobalt, barely detectable, visible only when it catches in the moonlight.

A lumpy pile of denim sits abandoned and bunched up near the end of the bed—he must’ve kicked his pants off at some point, though you don’t remember when—and his cock’s hard again, head brushing your inner thigh. It’s hard for you to tear your gaze from it, fleeting thoughts of stamina and impressive grazing through your mind, turning to smoke the moment you try to latch onto them.

He notices, of course—you’ve been staring at it for nearly a minute now, glazed eyes unblinking, soft little pants passing through barely parted lips. But it’s the way you’re staring at it—in the purest, unadulterated form of desire—that makes it jump, twitching a little against your thigh. You think you hear your Daddy breathe out a curse, think his rough fingers brush some hair back from your drenched forehead, think he says something along the lines of how much he fucking loves you, but in your dreamlike state, you can’t be sure.

Because then rough hands are on you, manhandling you as whatever trance he had fallen into yet again snaps once more.

“We’re gonna put that pretty, empty head of yours to good use!” he’s saying almost enthusiastically as he hoists your boneless body up, propping you up against his chest and securing you with a strong arm wrapped around your waist. “Whaddya think about that, hmm, princess? Want Daddy to use your little skull as his own personal cumdump? Huh?” lithe fingers squeeze your cheeks so hard your lips pucker up, a high-pitched whine getting caught in your throat. “That’s all it’s good for anyway, isn’t it?”

You try to nod, but all your head wants to do is flop back against his shoulder.

“Oh baby,” he cooks mockingly, jutting his inky bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. “I thought that was what you wanted?”

“T’is!” you mumble through his grip, drool beginning to collect in the corners of your scrunched mouth, dribbling down your chin. Gazing at him through the corner of your watery eyes, your resolve hardens, doing your best to hold your exhausted body up on your own, expression steeling as you force your woozy head to nod as best you can in his bruising grasp.

“Yeah?” he breathes, mouth curving into a dangerous smirk before his lips are at your ear, voice dropping an octave lower. “You’re fucking stubborn, y’know that? Stubborn little brat, just like your bullheaded brute of a brother,”

And then he’s pushing you down, shoving your head into the mattress and pulling your hips up, a hiss spit through your teeth as he purposefully presses into the fresh bruises.

Your poor little pussy aches, fucked open and raw by his cock, but you are stubborn—you can’t help it, it runs in your blood—exhilarated by the challenge and pushing your hips back weakly towards him.

Your Daddy chuckles behind you, but it’s one of those annoyed chuckles, one of those disbelieving chuckles, one of those chuckles that consists of an audacious smirk, quick short nodding that’s more to himself than anyone else, and a tongue running along his top teeth, sucking on the bones, before it fades from his face completely, replaced with scorn in an instant, eyes cold and jaw clenched as he delivers a harsh backhand to your ass.

Then his body’s blanketing yours, chest hot and heavy against your back, lips moving against the shell of your ear.

“Oh, you really want me to break you, don’t you?”

No, truly, you don’t, but you grit your teeth, eyes shut tightly against the sting of a fresh wave of tears, trying to stop your head from involuntarily shaking no.

He laughs again, this time mean and sharp and full of malice, as he straightens up, lining his cock up with your hole.

“Nah, nah,” he’s saying as he pushes in, and God, it still hurts, it still stretches you, reopening little sutures created in the stairwell. “I think you do—Actually, I know you do. And Daddy knows best, right?”

Yes, of course, Daddy knows best, Daddy always knows best.

And it burns, that relentless snap of his hips, driving his cock into you with deep growls and grunts, with such force that it’s jostling you up the mattress, little hands planting themselves in a pitiful attempt to press back against him, to keep yourself in one place. Every muscle in your arms screams at the effort, stiff and rigid from being held, kept, still and obedient against the wall for an extended period of time.

The dreaminess has faded again, leaving behind a dull haze, and it all just hurts. It seems to come in bouts, inexplicable waves of numbness and pain, alternating sporadically and sprinkled with spikes of intense pleasure, a potent mix of chemicals swirling in your brain, lust and desire and terror and anguish burning through your veins.

You’re sobbing into the mattress now, fingers curling tightly in his soft black sheets as your bleary vision begins to darken at the edges, mumbling out something almost in a chant—his name, you think, though you’re not sure, it all sounds muffled to your ringing ears—vibrations of your voice getting caught in your throat, hitching with your sobs and the rough piston of his hips.

It’s building again, licks of fire scalding hot against the walls of your stomach, the temperature rising with each drag of his cock against that spot, until you’re sure the flames are going to engulf you from the inside out.

Little squeaks, poor imitations of moans, escape your lips, interspersed with your pathetic wails. He’s speaking once more—you can feel it, his chest reverberating against yours, lips moving against your ear again. Something rumbles, rattles, deep and dark and dangerous at the very core of his body, and then he’s tangling a hand in your hair and tugging, hauling you up, a choked cry slipping from your lips.

It pulls you from unconsciousness’s grasp, just for a moment, clears the mist from your mind as he snarls against your ear, taking the cartilage between his teeth and biting down, hard.

“Thought I told you to answer me the next time I ask you a fucking question,” he breathes, and he almost sounds gleeful, contradicting his voice, so rough, so hoarse, so hot.

You did, Daddy, you did, you’re trying to say, trying to nod in the vice grip he has on your strands, the words jumbled and muddled and near incomprehensible, wet and messy and coated in spit.

“But I guess my—Christ—my cock makes you too stupid to do that, huh?” he’s panting now, in time with his thrusts, huffs of breath sweltering against your already sticky skin. “What would your goody-two-shoes brother say if he could see you, hmm? If he could see how fucking dumb his little slut of a baby sister goes from my cum,”

It’s too much, too much, Daddy, too much, the brutal pounding of his cockhead against your swollen cervix and the continuous stream of strained, husky, filthy words he’s spewing in your ear and the sting in your scalp and that spot, that spot, that spot—

It hits you so hard it’s painful, knocks what little breath you had right out of you as your entire body convulses on his cock, little cunt clenching and gushing as you weep Da-Daddy! over and over and over, the only word your soupy brain is capable of conceiving, body going pliant in his arms as your head lolls back against his shoulder, struggling to keep your eyes open while he continues to drive his cock into you, hard and fast and messy.

He cums with the prettiest broken whine you’ve ever heard—or at least, you think he does, entire body gone numb once again, think you feel his hips juddering and his cock pulsing, think you feel that familiar, thick substance filling you to the brim. Everything is still for a moment, his chest heaving against your arched back, and then he laughs malevolently, though it sounds far away, even though you can feel the sound vibrating against you.

“That ought’a teach you to say no to me again,” he spits harshly in your ear, giving one more hard yank on your hair before letting go completely, your abused body collapsing in a heap on his mattress.

It feels like you’re more Dabi than yourself now, with his name written all over your body, signed by his mouth, his teeth, his fingers, and his cum leaking out of you, drying hard and sticky on your thighs, his scent being all you can smell, all you can taste, heady and fiery. And as you crawl into the sweet embrace of unconsciousness—finally, finally—you think about just how much can change, and how fast it does, in a mere 92 days.

   ✰          ✰          ✰            

Three months earlier

The air is hazy with thick smoke, heavy enough to dilute the already dim yellow light shining from the bare lightbulbs overhead. The stench of cheap beer, weed and sweat stings your nose, and it wrinkles reflexively.

You aren’t supposed to be here.

Throbbing music radiates through the house, causing the structure to tremble in time with the beat, the dirty drywall you’re currently pressed up against quivering in response. It’s so loud it hurts, vibrating through the warped linoleum floors and through your body. It makes you shiver in disgust, as if it’s some sort of parasite worming it’s way through your veins in timed intervals.

Your brother would kill you if he knew.

You’ve been backed into a corner—literally, surrounded by three college boys you’ve never seen before as they drunkenly leer at you. They’re a year or two older than you, glassy half-lidded eyes scanning your body in a way that makes you feel filthy, in a way that makes you want to scrub your skin raw to rid it of their slimy gazes.

They’re mumbling out something, speaking amongst themselves in low voices, peppered with raspy snickers that make your skin crawl. Pressing further into the corner, you quickly wrack your mind for something—anything—that will get them to part just a little, that’ll crack the wall of bodies you’re now surrounded by just enough for you to barrel through. Adrenaline begins to surge through your veins as you gear up, drawing in a deep breath, and—

“Whadda we have here?”

The men part immediately at the sound of that low voice, smooth as melted chocolate, revealing a figure with spiky onyx hair, an involuntary gasp escaping your lips the moment your eyes collide with sapphire.

“Ah, I thought it was you,” he smirks, peering down at you with a gaze so intense it feels like your body’s been set aflame. “What’s a good little girl like you doing in a place like this, hmm?”

Dabi.

This wasn’t the first time you had seen him, remembering the man with the pretty cobalt eyes and inky hair standing under a singular flickering lamp post outside of the tiny house you and your brother share, or lingering on the threshold of the front door, eyes lazily darting around the space as he waits.

He never comes inside. Your brother doesn’t allow it.

You’ve barely spoken any words to him, always responding to his polite greetings with shy nods or little waves.

But this is the first time you’re meeting him properly.

Feet bolted to the floor, you try to respond, only able to emit a pathetic little squeak.

He huffs out a condescending chuckle, gazing down the bridge of his nose at you, head tilted up just a touch, lidded crystal eyes glittering in the dim light. That trademark smirk spreads into something darker, something almost ominous in nature, something that whispers in your ear that it knows something you don’t, sending sharp spikes of ice shooting up your spine.

“Does your brother know you’re here?”

You shake your head quickly, eyes widening in panic as anxiety begins to rise in your throat. He isn’t about to rat you out, is he?

“Thought so. Dunno why I asked,” he heaves a heavy sigh, chest rising with the force of it, as if he’s extremely exasperated, as if you’re some sort of child lost at a supermarket and he’s bringing you back to your parents. “Alright, let’s go,”

A hand extends, hanging limp in the smoky air for a moment, waiting, before Dabi sighs again with a roll of his eyes, latching onto your wrist and all but dragging you out of the corner, maneuvering through the mass of sweaty bodies crowding the dingy living room.

“We’re leaving?” you ask dumbly as Dabi approaches the back door, hand still wrapped in a firm grasp around your arm.

“Yep. My work here is done, and you,” he tuts his tongue with a slow shake of his head, hidden smile on his face. “Your work here is done, too,”

“W-Where are we going?” you ask as the two of you stumble outside, shivering a little as the cool, fresh air hits your heated skin.

“No idea. Away from this place,” he looks back at your briefly, giving your wrist a soft squeeze before dropping it. “You tryna put your brother in an early grave or somethin’?”

A frown tugs at the corners of your lips as you shake your head again. “No, I just—”

“You shouldn’t have been there,” his words echo your thoughts from before. “You were in some real danger for a second, y’know that?”

“I-I know. Thank you for, uh, s-saving me, Sir,”

“Sir?” his eyes are bright with mirth, shining despite the weak light provided by the waxing moon. The smirk returns, and you feel it again—like he’s plotting something, like he’s got some big secret he’s hiding, a plan, something up his sleeve. “Sir is nice, but I think there’s another name you’d rather call me,”

Eyebrows knit in confusion, your eyes drift to the ground, mulling over his words. Something else you’d rather call him? Like what? You’ve only seen the guy a few—

“Still have no idea why you haven’t fucked him yet,” one of your friends muses as Dabi’s exiting his car, eyes watching him lazily from where you’re both seated on the front lawn.

“Keigo would murder me, literally,” you giggle a little, glancing over at the man with inky hair before looking away again, down at your lap as little fingers thread through the grass beneath you and shaking your head.

“Shame,” she sighs, twirling her sticky pink lollipop idly, the candy catching in the sun. “He’s Daddy as hell,”

A sharp gasp leaves your parted lips, eyes snapping back to her face and holding them for a moment before the two of you burst into a fit of giggles, your fingers tapping her bare knee in a silent warning that he’s approaching.

Heavy black boots collide with the front stone path, buckles jingling daintily, his head perking up in a catlike manner, trademark smirk forming on his lips as you both urgently try to calm your laughter.

“Ladies,” he nods with a wink as he passes, little giggles cutting off instantaneously, the two of you mumbling shy greetings in response.

That was the only time you had ever spoken to him, until now.

“Oh my God,” you whimper, eyes squeezing shut in embarrassment. He did hear.

He chuckles slightly, dropping the subject with a shake of his head.

“So. Where to?” he asks expectantly, feet slowing to a stop on the cracked sidewalk as he taps out a cigarette. He whips a silver Zippo open, sharp twinge of metal swiping against metal cutting though the silent nighttime air. “Home?”

A shrill bubble of incredulous laughter escapes your throat. Dabi glances over at you, amused, raising an eyebrow in question as he cups the flame and brings it to his lips.

“Do you want to put my brother in an early grave?” you snort.

“I could just walk you to the street, you know,” he rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile on his face. “Precious niisan wouldn’t even need to see me,”

You shake your head, idly kicking a rock with the toe of your shoe as you begin walking again. The campus is beginning to bleed into the city now, engulfing the two of you in familiar florescent light. “No, I can’t go home,”

“Why?”

“I…” you trail off, heat flooding your cheeks. “I, um, told him I’d be staying at a friend’s place tonight,”

Dabi gasps mockingly. “Baby, you lied to your niisan?”

Knocking your shoulder against his arm, you scoff, trying to hide the stupid smile the nickname conjures. “Oh, shut up,”

“Getting bold now, I see,” he hums to himself. “Could’a swore just a few minutes ago you were scared of me,”

“N-Not scared, just—uh, just surprised, that’s all,”

“Uh-huh, sure. Tell me again why you can’t just go to this friend’s house?”

“Well, she’s—she’s, like, y’know—” you shrug as a form of explanation, deflating a little at his unimpressed stare as he blows smoke out his nose. “She’s going home with some guy,” you mumble. “A-And I was supposed to too, but…”

Dabi tsks, shaking his head in false sympathy. “Sweetheart, you’re a teenage movie cliché,”

“Shut up,”

“You tell me to shut up one more time and I’m gonna have to do something about it,” he singsongs, a thinly veiled threat coated in sugar. Swallowing thickly, you glance up at him, blinking twice. His eyes tell you that he’s not fucking around, despite the relaxed features of his face, smile easygoing and gaze lidded.

“S-Sorry,” you murmur, looking away.

“Don’t you know? Good little girls don’t speak like that to Daddy,”

He spits the word out, almost patronizing in his tone, but that fails to stop the way your stomach flutters when it falls from his lips, fails to prevent the choked little gasp that escapes yours. He laughs loudly, your cheeks burning with shame.

Sapphire eyes glint in the pale moonlight, as if he’s just discovered the most valuable treasure, as if he’s just been given the key to the universe—a predator who’s just ensnared it’s prey, and the smirk that slowly etches itself across his face is nothing short of sinister.

“Do you wanna come home with Daddy, princess?”

He’s caging you between his body and the murky convenience store window as he asks, both palms pressed flat against the grimy glass.

“Hmm?”

No. You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t, can almost hear your brother’s voice in the back of your mind telling you not to, but you’re too enticed in sapphire to care, drawn into pretty, almost glittering blue fire, letting the flames lick your skin as you immerse yourself in it, deeper and deeper and deeper, allowing it to wrap itself around you, to consume you, to knock the very breath out of you as you gaze into it.

“Okay,”

   ✰          ✰          ✰            

He only has one bed and no couch, he informs you as he leads you up four flights of stairs, explaining that the elevator’s been broken for a few months now, panting out the words just a little.

A soft giggle slips from your lips, amplified by the empty stairwell and echoing off the concrete walls, and Dabi looks back at you, amused.

“Something funny, princess?”

And although there’s a friendly grin on his face and mirth in his eyes, something in his voice makes you tremble, shoots scorching sparks up your spine and sends them rushing through your veins, and your laughter immediately cuts off.

“No,” you say simply, shaking your head and hoping that he didn’t catch the full body shiver that coursed through your figure just a second ago, all thanks to his voice. “Just laughing at the absurdity of it, s’all,”

“Ah,” he says sagely, nodding once. “Well, here we are,”

A tattooed hand gestures vaguely to a white door with a large, black 4 painted on it, the paint beginning to chip away, worn down and faded in some spots.

Dabi’s apartment is small, but you like it. He’s surprised, he tells you, expected someone like you—someone brought up with luxury, someone who’s never had to ask for or want anything in their life, because they always already had it—would hate it.

“Or maybe, that’s exactly why you like it,”

It’s a little snarky, the way those words flow out of his mouth, biting your cheek as they pass, and you wince a little.

“I think it’s homey,” you say quietly, tiny voice raw and honest, deciding to omit the fact that you’ve never really had a space that felt homey yourself. “It’s very you. I really do like it.”

His eyes soften at your gentle confession, features relaxing a little as calloused fingers tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Then, I’m glad,”

For a moment, you’re positive he’s going to kiss you, staring down at you so intently with that look in his eyes as they slowly sweep across your face. But he turns on his heel a moment later, stalking into the tiny bachelor and beckoning for you to follow with a wave of his hand, flicking on a lamp as he passes.

“You hungry?” he’s asking as he walks. “I know this kickass noodle place that delivers 24/7,” he collapses on his bed, outfitted in black sheets, looking up at you expectantly when you stop hesitantly a few feet away. “You should probably eat something,” he continues, pushing himself up on his elbows, legs dangling off the end of the mattress. “Especially if there’s still alcohol in your—”

“Oh no, I don’t drink,” you cut him off without thinking, the words etched into your permanent vocabulary, sitting down next to him, just a hint too close.

“No, no, of course you don’t,” he says with a laugh and a shake of his head, sitting up fully. “Let me guess; niisan doesn’t allow it,”

A frown forms on your lips, brows knitting together. “Well I—”

“Ah! Stop,” he cuts you off with a disinterested wave and a roll of his eyes. “I’ve heard enough,”

Normally, you’d scoff at someone speaking to you so rudely. But with Dabi, with Dabi, it’s different. A little giggle escapes your lips without your permission, the bubbly noise surprising you, and Dabi chuckles in response, a genuine grin spreading across his face, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“So. Food?”

The takeout arrives at 1:56am, Dabi bringing the bag full of noodles and other appetizers—too much food for only two people, if you’re being honest—back to his bed, placing it in front of you and then crawling onto the mattress, sitting cross-legged.

The action surprises you—he doesn’t have a table, but you had been expecting him to bring the food to the small breakfast bar, complete with two mismatched stools, not his bed.

Old Hammer Horror films flicker on the TV as the two of you pick through the food together, Styrofoam containers littering the bedspread. And it’s…fun—it’s the most fun you’ve had in a long time, a strange, unfamiliar giddiness fizzing in your tummy every time you make him laugh, every time his eye catches yours, every time he shoves your knee and calls you dollface, despite the deep, honey-coated voice echoing in your head telling you that you shouldn’t be doing this and he’s dangerous.

   ✰          ✰          ✰            

“Bedtime,” Dabi says simply as he returns from the little kitchenette after storing the leftover takeout in the fridge, using a hand to tug at the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head.

“Wha—”

The material hits you square in the face and an involuntary, entirely unsolicited giggle bubbles past your lips, pulling the garment from your head.

“Pajamas,” he nods at the fabric now bunched in your hands, but you can’t seem to find your voice to respond.

Teeth bite into your tongue hard enough to make you wince in an effort to keep a gasp within your chest when he comes into view. He’s lean—toner than you expected, muscles gliding smoothly under his skin as he moves—and you’re unsurprised to find his chest and back decorated with vibrant, intricate tattoos.

Of course, you knew Dabi had tattoos—they’re on his face, his neck, his collarbone, disappearing under the neckline of his shirt and resurfacing under his short sleeves, curling around his arms, brilliant flowing ink telling stories across his skin. They’re beautiful—they’re mesmerizing, inquisitive eyes slowly roaming the expanse of his chest.

But you had never noticed the soft, slightly puckered skin they hid. Scars, your mind provides dimly.

“Do you want to touch them?”

The rumble of his deep voice snaps you out of your revere, heat flooding your cheeks when you realize you were staring. There’s a playful lilt to his voice, and you can’t quite tell if his offer is serious or not, your eyes floating up to his.

“Here,” he chuckles a little as he sits down, offering you his forearm, flipping it over and resting it on the bed.

He lets you trace every single one. He won’t tell you where or how he got the scars, and you don’t push, even as curiosity erodes your chest. It’s impolite to pry, Keigo’s voice echoes through your mind, and you nod once to yourself.

You don’t have sex that night. He doesn’t force you. You nearly tell him that you’re surprised, what, a man of his stature, of his reputation, has a pretty girl in his bed and he doesn’t fuck her?, petty retaliation for what he had said to you when you entered the apartment hours ago, but you chicken out at the last minute. You’d soon come to find that some things are better left unsaid.

   ✰          ✰          ✰            

Spring has just arrived, bringing with it cool, gentle breezes and swaying blades of grass decorated with glistening dewdrops that sparkle when the sun catches them in just the right way. The smell of freshly battered cinnamon sugar donuts and cheap coffee wafts in through the open window, drifting over your bodies and embracing you.

It rouses you, and your eyes flutter open to be met with Dabi’s face. And, God, he’s so damn pretty, with thick dark eyelashes fanned out delicately across inked skin and tousled onyx hair, breathing deep and calm, sharp jaw on display. Reaching out, you daintily trace over his relaxed features—circling defined cheekbones, sliding down the slope of his nose, trailing along his jaw—allowing yourself a moment to admire him before thick guilt begins to strangle you.

You should go. Keigo still thinks that you’re at a friend’s house, and doesn’t expect you to be home until late afternoon, but that belated bitter guilt finally brands the back of your tongue, face souring a little at the idea of deceiving your big brother. And after all he’s done for you, niisan tsks in your head, voice sweet and syrupy, and you can almost see the disappointment in his eyes as he shakes his head. We’re all each other has, you know. And you do, really, you do know, head nodding routinely, instinctual at this point, as you begin to push yourself up.

“Stay,” Dabi says softly, eyes still closed as a hand catches your wrist. You stop immediately, allowing him to pull you back down to the mattress as lids lift to reveal the most brilliant sapphires. Fingers trace down the curve of your neck and you hum, arching into his touch.

“Keigo—”

“Doesn’t have to know,” he cuts you off, his voice still quiet, rough around the edges and heavy with sleep. “C’mon. We’ll go get pie for breakfast, and I’ll have you home to niisan by dinner, promise,”

Giggling a little, you roll into him, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and pull you atop his chest as he flops onto his back.

“Pie,” you laugh, resting your chin on his toned muscles and gazing up at him. “For breakfast?”

“Why not?” He asks, and that smile is back again, the boyish one that looks like he’s hiding something, a little amusing secret just for him, the one that induces a whole flock of butterflies in your chest. “It’s Saturday,” he shrugs as best he can, then squeezes you to his chest. “You don’t got anything to do, I don’t got anything to do...”

Crystal eyes glitter in the morning sun as they gaze at you, golden rays creeping through the small gaps in his thick purple curtains, swaying gently in the wind.

Molars sink into the inside flesh of your cheek as you think, and Dabi tuts his tongue softly, a hand coming to gently pull the skin from between your teeth.

“Okay,”

His lips curl into a smirk, something sharp flashing in his cobalt eyes. “Okay,”

That’s how it begins—with deceptively bright, youthful smiles and cherry pie for breakfast— and five days later, in the backseat of his Cadillac Eldorado while James Cagney flickers on a worn out, off-white screen and two of his fingers are three knuckles deep in you, he asks you to be his, digits curling in your pretty little pussy as he breathes the words against the shell of your ear.

You’re whimpering out yes as you cum, nodding almost frantically against his shoulder as your hips roll towards his palm.

That’s it, that’s his good girl.

   ✰          ✰          ✰            

But it progresses faster than you ever thought it would—faster than you ever thought possible—like a shot of morphine straight to your bloodstream, pupils gaping as DabiDabiDabi surges through your veins, becoming all you can think about—all you want to think about, all you want to do, eat, feel, breathe.

Midnight double-features of old Hollywood films at the local rundown drive-in become one of the many staples of your relationship, finding comfort in the sharp smell of buttersalt popcorn stinging your nose, in the way the film’s sound cracks and pops as it travels through the car radio, staticky like an old record, in the way Dabi forces a cherry Jolly Rancher from his mouth into yours, the hard candy clacking against your teeth.

This is how you spend most of your weeknights for the next month or so—passing candy through kisses in the backseat of the Eldorado, tongues shoved down each other’s throats, stained red and purple and blue from the cheap artificial dye, hands wandering up dresses and little fingers tugging at beltloops and buckles.

On Saturday mornings—sometimes Sundays, too, if you’ve been a really good girl—you find yourself in a familiar red booth at The League—a little diner tucked away on one of the city side streets not too far from Dabi’s apartment—cheap speckled plastic glittering in the sunlight and sticking to your thighs as your favourite waitress, a young woman by the name of Himiko who insists that you call her Mimi, takes your order. She seems to know your Daddy—your Dabi—somehow, but you don’t press, because it’s impolite to pry, you know and niisan raised you better than this.

He always lets you pick what you want for breakfast, but Daddy always orders it for you, always reminds you the mornings you decide on pancakes that if you get those, you aren’t allowed any sundaes or a slice of pie, because too much sugar is bad for his babygirl, and he knows how much syrup you drown those things in, dollface.

But there’s one staple of your relationship that you love more than all the others.

Joyrides.

That’s what he calls them, those drives through the bad parts of the city, the parts with cracked concrete sidewalks and shattered glass and needles littered in the dying grass.

Dabi takes you along frequently, tells you that you have an important job to do, that you play a crucial role in this whole operation, because the police—including your father—have been cracking down especially hard on dealing in this area. But nobody bothers to question a seemingly innocent young woman delivering inconspicuous brown paper bags—bags full of pretty little pills and tiny baggies of white powder—to shop owners and crumbling apartment complexes, eerily reminiscent of a Girl Scout selling cream filled cookies and thin-mints.

Keigo would kill you, if he knew.

It’s an instantaneous rush, though, being allowed to participate in Dabi’s business ventures, being allowed to help. It’s a privilege, you think, makes you feel like he trusts you, and you absolutely live for the praise, for that gorgeous smile he gives you after you deliver the sweets to the client, for the passionate kisses he rewards you with for being such a good little helper.

Joyrides are the best. Because it’s just you and him, the Eldorado’s radio struggling to play whatever station it’s picking up on—usually some sort of sixties rock—as you cruise the streets in his absurdly large car, the sky smeared with strokes of faded pinks and oranges, peppered with wispy clouds that look like loose strands of white cotton candy.

And sometimes, after his work is all finished, he’ll drive you to one of those cliffs you’ve come to know so well and let you ride him in the drivers seat—precious little whines and pathetic broken whimpers spilling from your lips as you rest your head against his shoulder, gyrating your hips in fast, shallow little circles, using his cock like it’s a toy, just like he told you to—before taking you back home to fuck you properly, to fuck you right.

   ✰          ✰          ✰            

It’s quaint, the little house you and your niisan live in, with its perfectly trimmed hedges and well-manicured grass, a stone walkway leading up to the front door, which is painted white. White windowsills, white brick, white, white, white, the whole thing is white—bright, pure, untarnished.

It’s just enough space for the two of you, your adoptive father, an absurdly large man by the name of Toshinori Yagi, had stated proudly, the first day he showed it to you.

And it’s only a short walk from the university, his wife chimed in with a smile too wide for her face, nodding excessively.

It’s convenient, they had said, the day you received your acceptance letter and scholarship offer from the university your brother attended. It’ll be good for you to stay with your older brother for a little, before going off into the world on your own, they had promised.

You hadn’t really wanted to go to this university—would’ve much preferred to go away to school in another country—but you didn’t. Keigo knew it, too, knew your desire to leave, to see more of the world, to experience it on your own without that hulking shadow with the wild hair. But he coaxed you into it, convinced you to stay, just like he always does, begging you softly not to leave your poor niisan all alone as gentle fingers pushed locks of hair from your face, trailing down your cheek and coming to cup your jaw, reminding you that you’re all each other has.

And you had nodded, nuzzled your face against his palm, sought comfort and relief in the presence of your big brother, just as you always do. He was right; you had your entire life to travel the world, what’s the rush? Why leave now? Stay with him, just for a little longer.

But your niisan, your niisan has a secret.

It wasn’t like you didn’t know. Keigo has always had a penchant for living fast, after all, seems to somehow incorporate conceptual and literal speed into all aspects of his life—his marks in school, his record-breaking track races, and now, his personal life, too.

It started in high school. He was in twelfth grade. You still don’t know who gave him his first taste, still don’t know why he decided to shoot up that night, but he did.

And it made him feel invincible. It made him feel like he could fly.

He hid it well, didn’t look like a heroin addict—at least, not what the words ‘heroin addict’ usually conjure up. His topaz eyes were bright as ever, even if his pupils were just a pinprick; nails cut so short it looked painful, to keep from scratching and scabbing his body; was always sure to keep his track marks well hidden, methodical in choosing his injection sites, and kept up with regular hygiene, even if his wild, windswept hair did get a little messier.

Yes, he hid it well.

But he couldn’t hide it from you for long, didn’t hide it from you well enough, becoming increasingly careless the deeper he spiralled into the addiction.

And it takes a while for you to truly acknowledge it. You didn’t want to—not at first, anyway—didn’t want to believe that your all-star, top-of-his-class, golden-child of a big brother was a junkie.

So you ignored it. You ignored the way he began recklessly disposing of the needles in the small trash can under his desk instead of hiding them in the kitchen trash whenever your mother asked him to take it out, ignored the burnt spoon you found in the sink and the bloody Q-tips you found littering the counter of the bathroom the two of you shared, ignored the way those tiny orange syringe caps had begun appearing in odd places, seeming to pop up more and more frequently.

Yes, you ignored it, until he stole one of the shoelaces off of your sneakers. And you still can’t explain it, exactly, can’t explain why that was the final straw, why that had you gripping a laceless shoe in a trembling hand as you stormed into the washroom uninvited and unannounced, catching him with the string between his teeth, just as the last of that disgusting orangish-brown liquid sunk into his veins.

The words disintegrate on your tongue, escaping in a pitiful little squeak, all of the fury you felt towards him for his behaviour melting the instant your eyes catch the end of the injection, wide and unblinking as they stare at the needle stuck in his forearm.

For a moment, neither of you are able to speak, Keigo’s mouth opening and closing a few times as his eyes flood with tears, the prettiest topaz shining in the warm washroom light as they frenetically search your face.

“Sit,” you tell him, finally breaking the silence, your voice not your own. His eyebrows knit together, and he shakes his head a little in misunderstanding, but you persist. “Sit,”

Shoulders deflating, he holds your gaze for a moment longer before nodding once and obeying, sitting on the closed toilet.

“We have to—” you stop as your chin begins to wobble, swallowing thickly against the sob crawling up your throat, quivering hands rooting haphazardly through a first-aid kit. “W-We have to clean those, so they don’t get infected,”

Glassy golden eyes watch you intently, his chest hiccupping just a little as he wordlessly holds his arms out to you, armed with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol, the scent stinging your nose.

There aren’t many—only a few little pinpricks on each arm, some decorated with dark blooms of periwinkle and violet, but they still cause your tongue to crumble to bitter, suffocating ash in your mouth.

Tiny fingers encircle his wrist, your touch always so soft, so gentle, as if you’re afraid to break him, and he chokes on a noise that sounds suspiciously similar to a sob.

“You don’t—You shouldn’t have to—” and he can’t even force the words out, breathing out forcefully through his nose as his tears finally overflow, glistening drops streaming down his cheeks, bleary eyes unblinking, focused on your little fingers as they continue their tender ministrations with so much care, with so much love it’s nearly stifling, and he can’t breathe, because he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve it—

“I want to,” a knuckle catches one of his fresh tears, swiping it across his cheekbone and leaving a glimmering trail in its wake. “Alright? I want to,”

And this—this becomes a habit.

   ✰          ✰          ✰            

You don’t tell Keigo about your relationship. Not at first, at least, conjuring up flimsy excuses that become more ridiculous as the days pass, as your disappearances steadily increase. Dabi doesn’t want to, makes up some bullshit excuse about how he isn’t ready yet. But you buy it anyway, and you wait.

Until the morning of one of your niisan’s big races, the ones where multiple trainers and coaches come from all over the country to assess his performance, when Dabi shows up entirely unannounced and uninvited, makes sure he’s in Keigo’s line of sight as he bounces around at the starting line, and kisses the life out of you, right in front of him.  

That’s the only time he attends one of Keigo’s races.

The rest you continue attending by yourself. Dabi doesn’t like it, doesn’t like to have you out of his sight at all lately, but he knows it’s moot to argue with you. You’re going, you told him firmly, the night before Keigo’s next race, whether he likes it or not.

But, boy, was your niisan fuming by the time the two of you arrived home that day.

He hadn’t cared that he had, essentially, lost the race, hadn’t cared that he didn’t even manage to place in the top three for the first time in literal years, hadn’t cared that he just blew several chances with potential coaches and sponsors.

None of it mattered.

With a rough hand wrapped around your bicep, he all but yanks you out of the car, doesn’t care that you’re stumbling over your own feet as he drags you towards the front door, doesn’t care that he shoves you inside the house so hard you do trip, crying out as your hands and knees collide with the cold tiled floor.

And he’s yelling, yelling at the top of his lungs, the moment that white door slams shut, shut so hard the walls tremble.

“Fucking Touya Todoroki!? Are you fucking kidding me?”

You can barely see him through your tears as you quickly flip yourself over, beginning to inch away on your hands and feet as you stare up at him, breath hitching in your chest.

“Wh-Who?”

“Dabi, for Christ sake!”

“T-T—” Touya?

“Oh Jesus, don’t tell me—He didn’t tell you his fucking name?”

No, you shake your head quickly, chest stuttering as the name echoes through your mind, your big brother nothing but a blur of crimson and gold advancing towards you, mumbling to himself about how no, of course he didn’t, why would he? Of course not, as he drags nimble fingers through his messy hair.

“To-Todo—”

“Todoroki,” he spits, so harsh it makes you flinch.

“Your coa—”

“Yeah, I know his father,” Keigo rolls his eyes as he crouches down, catches your trembling chin between his thumb and forefinger, and you cease all action immediately, freezing in his grip. “You know his brother,”

Your brow furrows as you belatedly search your memory for any instance of the name, gunmetal grey and snow white flashing through your mind, but everything’s too foggy, too hazy with the fear of disappointing your niisan more, eyes squeezing shut as you hiccup at the mere thought.

But then he’s sighing, always knows when he’s gone a little too far—you are very delicate, after all, so small and naïve and in desperate need of someone to take care of you, aren’t you?—collapsing back on his heels and pulling you into his lap as soft hands smooth down your hair, murmuring it’s alright, it’s alright and niisan’s got you, niisan’s got you.

“What’re you doin’ with a man like that, my little songbird?” his voice is gentle as he rocks your bodies back and forth, after your sobs have calmed a bit.

What are you? you want to ask, front teeth sinking into your tongue hard enough to make you wince, keeping those three tiny words inside of your mouth.

“I like him,” you mumble instead, nuzzling your face into his chest and hiding from those bright, inquisitive topaz eyes.

“You—You like him,” he snorts to himself in disbelief, shaking his head a little.

“I do,” you respond, a little firmer as you pull back to stare at your big brother’s face, eyebrows knit together in determination, sparks of fury igniting deep in your chest at the thought of Keigo thinking he knows better, when he’s just as bad.

“He isn’t good for you—”

“He isn’t good for you,” you shoot back, tone clipped as you level your gaze, squirming a little in his arms. His grasp tightens, like he’s terrified you’re going to leave, honey eyes holding yours for a beat before he lets out a breath, looking away, defeated.

“That doesn’t mean you should be allowed to see him,” he mutters, glancing at your tear-stained face for a moment before his eyes flit away again. “But…” his chest rises with a deep inhale, pressing against you. “I guess…I guess it isn’t very fair of me to, uh, judge you, is it?”

“No,” you pout a little. “It isn’t,”

He huffs out a soft chuckle, gazing at you from the side of his eye, a tiny smirk spreading across his face. “Stop being so cute,” he grumbles, squeezing you against him just a bit too hard, giggles spilling from your lips as your fingers curl in the cotton of his hoodie. “I’m trying to be mad at you, y’know,”

“Kei-nii,” you whine with a roll of your eyes, shoving his shoulder weakly, though there’s a smile on your lips.

“Alright, alright, alright,” he’s saying as lithe fingers brush some hair back from your face, palm resting against your cheek, thumb stroking your jaw rhythmically. “Just—Promise me, if he ever hurts you…You’ll tell me immediately, yeah?”

Blinking a few times, your eyes search his face, sobering up as gold bores into you. There’s something in his stare, something you’ve never seen before, something that you can’t decipher, and it sends chills pebbling across your skin. Swallowing thickly, you nod, little jerky movements as your eyes hold his. “Y-Yeah, promise, niisan,”

“Good,” he whispers, chin resting atop the crown of your head as he cradles you to his chest. “We’re all we have. Never forget it.”

   ✰          ✰          ✰            

You only question Dabi about his name once, lounging around on his bed in the early hours of the morning, tangled in his sheets, wearing his t-shirt, with his large hand resting on your bare thigh. His head’s tipped back against the headboard as he exhales smoke in pretty little curls that disintegrate into hazy nothingness only a moment later.

“T-Touya?” Your hearts thudding against your ribcage as you almost whisper the name, barely audible at all, but his head snaps forward, sapphire eyes finding yours immediately.

And for a moment you’re terrified you’ve made a grave mistake, that you’ve crossed some invisible line you hadn’t had a clue about, his glare scathing your skin; but then his features relax, and a little smirk spreads across his lips.

“Ah, so he finally told you,” his voice is quiet, and you can’t read his tone, eyes squinting a little as you lean towards him. “I don’t go by that name anymore,” he speaks up, voice ringing out clear and strong. “Don’t call me that again,”

The or else is implied, and you nod meekly, promising him softly that you’ll never utter it again.

   ✰          ✰          ✰            

It’s been gnawing at you all week, sitting heavy like a block of lead in your stomach, the cuticles on your left thumb bitten raw in agitation. You need to tell him. You’re going to tell him, it’s just…

It just never seemed like the right time to tell him—then again, is there ever a right time to tell your older brother that you’re spending the entire weekend at his drug dealer’s place?

But now it’s Friday, and Dabi will be here in a few minutes, and you still have yet to let Keigo know.

Because Keigo is currently otherwise occupied. With a girl.

You hadn’t been expecting to hear the tinny laughter of a woman when you entered the house, arriving home after your last class of the day, hadn’t been expecting to walk into the living room to find said girl splayed across your niisan’s lap, staring up at him dreamily as endless giggles spilled from her painted lips, hadn’t been expecting him to be so completely enamoured with her that he doesn’t even greet you.

It burns up all of the anxiety that had been building inside you in an instant, turns it into boiling rage that bubbles and pops, noxious as it rises up your throat.

And so, you decide that you won’t say anything at all. If he’s too busy to even acknowledge you like he normally does every single day, then surely he doesn’t care if you leave, right?

“I’m going out,” you toss airily over your shoulder as your halfway out the front door, a small grin spreading across you lips as you spot Dabi leaning lazily against his car. He gives you a nod of acknowledgement, smug grin of his own forming on his lips.

Keigo shoots up immediately, nearly knocking the girl to the floor, moving faster than he ever has in his life as he catches your wrist and tugs, hard. A loud yelp sounds from the back of your throat and you stumble backwards, right into your big brother’s chest.

“Where? Huh? Where?” he growls out the word through clenched teeth, squeezing again. “With who? That—That fucking scumbag?”

At the sound of your yelp, Dabi straightens up instantly, usual lidded eyes now wide open and alert, zeroing in on where Keigo has ensnared you.

“Not like it matters to you, not when you have a whore to entertain,” you spit, and though your gaze is blazing, your eyes are filling with tears, gleaming in the late afternoon sun. “Right?” you push, after a few moments of silence.

His grip loosens, although he doesn’t let go completely, fingers still clasped around you.

“Princess, I…”

“No,” you snap, viciously pulling yourself free of him. “Don’t princess me. Not after ignoring me like that,”

“You’re overreacting—”

“Then so are you,” you cut him off sharply, already beginning to back away and blinking hard to clear your eyes of stubborn tears. “I’m spending the weekend at Dabi’s. I’ll see you on Sunday,”

Dabi catches you the moment you’re within reach, drawing you close to his chest for a second before pulling back. Calloused hands gently raise your wrist, sapphire eyes assessing the damage. His thumb caresses the rapidly bruising area rhythmically, back and forth, back and forth, and he frowns deeply, his gaze finally meeting yours.

“Does he do this often? Hurt you like this?”

And it’s startling, shocking, to see the overflowing concern in his crystal eyes, studying your face intently as you try to find your voice. You don’t think he’s ever sounded that serious before.

“I—No, of course not,” you shake your head, tongue tripping over the words. “We—Y’know, siblings fight, and stuff, it’s—he doesn’t know his own strength, sometimes, uh, forgets it, a-and I bruise easily,” you shrug, wincing a little at the serious expression still etched deep into Dabi’s face.

“If he ever puts his hands on you again, I’ll fucking kill him,” Dabi says slowly, softly, as if he’s reciting the morning news to you, dark eyes drifting up to refocus on the figure still standing in the doorway. “Do you understand me?” he asks, though his stare does not leave Keigo’s, voice still calm, almost serene. “I’ll fucking kill him,”

He won’t, you reassure him, countless times over the next few weeks. Niisan’s never intentionally hurt me, Daddy, he won’t, I promise.

And they’re all true, those words you repeat to him, over and over and over again, while you comb fingers through his inky hair or press chaste kisses against his scarred skin. They’re all true.

Until they aren’t.

You should’ve known, really, not to talk about it. He doesn’t—not when you’re cleaning his track marks or wiping sweat from his forehead, not when he lays his head in your lap as he’s coming down, eyes fluttering as your fingers thread through his hair, not even when you’re feeding him teaspoons of water to keep him hydrated as his body forces him to throw up nothing, again, lips dry and cracked, skin clammy and cold—and you shouldn’t, either.

“Have you ever thought about switching to pills?” You ask one night, casually, as if this is mundane, normal, to discuss while washing dishes. “I heard oxy is like, heroin in a pill,”

His jaw clenches, you can see the motion out of the corner of your eye, quickly refocusing your gaze on the bowl in your hands, the same bowl you’ve been washing for about five minutes now.

“No.”

“Why not? They’re more controlled—”

“I said no,”

“And I asked why not,” you spit, dropping the bowl from your hands. It cracks as it collides with the aluminum of the sink, the sound piercing through the tense air as you turn to glare at your brother, soapy hands on your hips. “It would be safer—”

“Marginally—”

“That’s still better than nothing, Keigo! Christ,” you sigh, running a sudsy hand through your hair. “They’re all fucking opioids, what’s the difference!? They’re all gonna get you high the same way, aren’t they?”

“No—for fuck’s sake—”

You wouldn’t understand, even if he tried to explain to you. You wouldn’t understand that he’s already attempted this, attempted to switch from heroin to pills, and that it wasn’t the same—isn’t the same. You wouldn’t understand that oxy doesn’t give the same instantaneous rush as heroin does, doesn’t take his breath away like heroin does, doesn’t warm his entire fucking body the way heroin does.

No, you wouldn’t understand how most of the time he feels like he can’t fucking breathe until he shoots up, wouldn’t understand how, at this point, heroin feels like an old friend, safe and cozy and more comforting than anything he’s ever felt before, than even your arms are, wouldn’t understand how heroin makes him feel like he’s fucking invincible, like he can take on the entire world in one day, like he can continue living.

It makes him feel whole again, full again, put back together with no cracks or missing pieces. It distracts him from how irrevocably shattered his insides truly are, providing him with quick, fleeting relief, just long enough for him to keep going, keep striving, keep breathing. But you wouldn’t understand any of that. How could you?

He’s sighing as he walks away from you, raking both hands through golden hair.

“You don’t understand—”

“No, you don’t see what this shit is doing to you! It’s killing you, niisan!”

God, no, not the honorific. Not when you’re gazing at him with tears spilling from your eyes, little hands desperately pawing at his t-shirt, urgent just to make him understand, to get through to him for one instant.

“I-It’s killing you and all I can do is watch,” your voice fades into a whisper, breaking on the last word as more tears streak your cheeks, leaving small gleaming trails in their wake, fingers readjusting, knotting in his shirt and tugging, latching onto him as he keeps walking, jaw clenching again as he tries to ignore you. “Y-You have to stop—no, no, n-not stop, just—just slow down, yeah? Slow down a little, it’s—it’s too fast, niisan, you’re going too fast—”

But it’s building, and building, and his head is throbbing, and throbbing, and your voice is rising higher and higher, louder and louder, and it’s all just too much, and before he even knows what’s happening, his hand is cutting through the air, knuckles colliding with your cheek so hard it sends you stumbling backwards, tripping over your own feet as you fall on your ass.

He regrets it the moment it happens, the very moment his skin makes contact with yours.

But that doesn’t matter; the damage is already done.

He’s never hit you before. Sure, he may be a little rough sometimes, and his grip may leave a few bruises every once in a while, but he has never deliberately hit you, until today.

He never thought he would.

Golden eyes dart from his hand, still raised in the air from where it struck you, blood gleaming on his silver rings, to your face, small and terrified, crimson flowing down your cheek, mixing with your tears as it slowly drips off your jaw, and then back to his hand.

And for a moment, he swears, the whole world stops.

Then, a mere second later, his whole world shatters.

You’re trying to form words, staring up at him with impossibly wide, unblinking eyes, but they’re just escaping your lips in little mumbles, half-formed and coated in spit.

His mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, nothing more than a pitiful huff of air formed in the shape of a curse leaving his lips.

It takes your mind a moment to register what’s happened, numb with dizzying shock, stupid with the most heartbreaking pain, dazed as tiny, trembling fingers raise to tenderly prod at the wound, wincing the moment they make contact. But the throbbing of your cheek brings you back quicker than Keigo would’ve liked, and then your eyebrows are knitting together, mouth settling in a wobbly line, blinking hard to clear your eyes of pesky tears.

And all he can do is watch, watch as you shakily push yourself to your feet, watch as your hand grips your phone like it’s a fucking lifeline—a lifeline he very briefly thinks about diving forward and snatching out of your grasp—watch as you turn on the balls of your feet and disappear down the hall, the slam of your bedroom door echoing a moment later.  

You barely make it into your bedroom before your collapsing on the floor, wheezing out uneven breaths, sharp, hard huffs of air that slice through your tight chest with each exhale, vision blurry with stinging tears as you stare down at your phone, cradled in quivering hands.

You know that if you make this phone call, Dabi will never let you come back. You know that if you make this phone call, this is it. Trembling fingers hesitate over his name, those four glowing letters staring back at you, an unnecessary amount of various heart emojis cushioning them.

He doesn’t pick up the first time. Maybe it’s a sign, you think to yourself, a sign that you shouldn’t leave just yet, that you should stay and rot away with him for a little bit longer, remain with him for a little more and give him another piece of your soul that he can add to his prized collection as he slowly steals your life force from you.

But then searing pain radiates through your entire face, along your jaw and to the back of your head, and the coppery smell of blood stings your nose, and you press on Dabi’s name again.

   ✰          ✰          ✰            

If he’s being honest, he would’ve never picked up for anyone but you, probably would’ve killed the idiot that thought to interrupt him during one of the biggest deals of his career—of his life.

“What?” he snarls as he answers, pacing along the wall outside the warehouse like a rabid dog, anxious and eager. “This better be important, sweetheart. You knew I was meeting with one of the bosses today—”

“He hit me,”

It’s hard to understand you when you’re still sobbing, words all wet and garbled, and Dabi squints as he focuses his concentration, feet skidding to a stop as his heart begins to pound.

“What?”

“He hit me. Nii—Keigo hit me,”

And then, his blood runs cold. His ears are ringing, vision fading in and out of focus as red tinges the edges, breathing beginning to accelerate, exhaled harshly through flared nostrils. The thin skin stretched taut across his bony knuckles has turned white as he grips his phone so tightly he’s surprised it doesn’t shatter in his hand.

“Pack your shit,” he tells you, voice oddly calm, cold and sterile and sending shivers skittering up your spine. “I’m gonna fucking kill him,”

#dabi x reader #dabi smut #dabi #takami keigo #bnha smut #mha smut #aaaaaah fucking MONSTER #anywayyy cant wait to hear what u all think!!! #dabi don't get mad at me i lost track of time editing n i've been real good going to bed on time #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw daddy kink #tw drugs #tw:abuse

[my-pink-yandere]

❤Obsession❤

Prompt: Yandere Bakugou, Midoriya, and Todoroki (separately) has a crush on Y/N...who is actually obsessed over a fictional character.

C/N: Character Name

Warnings: Yandere Tendencies, Swearing, Also this is sorta long cause I wrote a lot ;-; 

💥Katsuki Bakugou💥

❥ This boy is angered when he finds out about this

❥ Like wow he’s super pissed

❥ If you’re unfortunate enough to ever have a Yandere Bakugou take a liking to you, when he realizes that you’re obsessing over someone who isn't him, a fictional character nonetheless, he’s... well...

❥ “Very upset” would be an understatement

❥ He sees that as basically losing to a person who doesn’t even exist

❥ The chaos begins when he’s in the middle of his daily routine of admiring staring at you from afar, and when you stand up with one of your friends and begin walking out of the cafeteria, he hears a few... interesting statements escape your mouth as you pass him by

❥ “I can’t believe you actually like them, Y/N! You’re totally hopeless when it comes to love, huh?” His head was tilted your way, seeing your friend looking disappointed and you looking flustered. “It’s not my fault they're so perfect!” you answered, practically radiating embarrassment. He smirked, assuming you were talking about him. I mean, who else would you get so worked u about>

❥ “Besides, I’m not the only one who simps for C/N! So shh-”

❥ ...

❥ All that’s going through Bakugou’s head right now is why that name wasn't his

❥ He’s gone eerily still, and all of his friends sort of stop and look at him

❥ “Bakubro? You good-”

❥ Bakusquad is going to have to hold Katsuki back from blowing up the entire cafeteria

❥ This b*tch only sees red rn

❥ ‘WHO’S THE PERSON YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT AND WHERE CAN I FIND THEM SO I CAN BREAK THEIR F*CKING KNEECAPS’

❥ he got murder on his mind :0

❥ Despite how angered Bakugou is, he’s not a complete dumbass, believe it or not

❥ He’s not going to confront you about it, at least not right now.

❥ Once he calms tf down, he’ll come to his senses and have his top priority being to get rid the competition first, meaning he has to hunt down whoever C/N is and delete them from existence

❥ When he learns that C/N is actually a fictional character from some anime tbh he just feels extra insulted

❥ You chose a f*cking fictional character over him >:(

❥ It’s now where he begins to get even angrier when he realizes how easy it should’ve been for him to notice sooner. All the stickers on your school supplies, the pins on your bags, how you’d sometimes sneak in their merchandise to show off to your friends at lunch

❥ It was when he overheard you possibly owning a body pillow where he went feral

❥ Will go out of his way to steal your shit and burn all of your merchandise of C/N, or anything that would remind you of the character

❥ He’d catch you when you were alone, and would shove you off your feet as he’d grab your bag and roughly go through it, angrily tearing off the stickers on your notebooks and pins off your bag as your crying and screaming at him to stop

❥ At this point he doesn’t care about how you feel about this at all. It’s never even crossed his mind (blind rage)

❥ His plan is to pluck C/N out of your life, replacing all your thoughts of them with just him, so you’re only thinking of him

❥ It doesn't matter to him if they're good thoughts or bad thoughts

❥ All that matters is that you’re thinking of him

❥ Only him.

In a nutshell, he’s gonna steal all of your items that have any reference to C/N and get rid of it all. He doesn't care how much he’s hurting you by doing this, he’ll concern himself with your feelings later. He’s going to hang around you more despite your protests for him to just leave you alone, quite literally forcing his way into your life so that he infests himself into your brain and become the only thing you think about, so that you can truly understand how he feels about you.

💚Izuku Midoriya💚

❥ Bold of you to assume he doesn't already know about this “obsession” of yours

❥ This child takes notes on EVERYTHING and ANYTHING related to you, so he obviously knew about your love for this certain fictional character

❥ At first glance, he believes your obsession with C/N is similar to him with All Might- just an innocent but deep admiration for them

❥ He’ll buy you their merchandise and gift it to you at school (accompanied by some flowers and sweet little cards of course ❤)

❥ He was nervous to do this at first, his crush on you rendering him a stuttering, blushing mess whenever you so much as glanced his way, but he pushed through his anxiety just to see your cute smile and feel your warm hug when he gives you those gifts

❥ He cherishes those moments more than anything, to see you so happy

❥ (Especially because  it was him to make you so excited! Not Kirishima or Uraraka... him)

❥ He’ll binge the entire show as fast as he can and memorize everything he deems as important just so he can chat with you about it at school

❥ “Isn’t C/N so cool?” he asked you, and you had quickly turned to him with a surprised and then starry gaze. “Izuku, you like them too?!”

❥ You were both on a first name basis now ;D (You even gave him a little nickname: ‘Zuku. Let’s just say he was a bit more than ecstatic when you began referring to him in such an informal way. You must really like him! ❤)

❥ And Midoriya, being the delusional little yandere he is, sees this as you both basically dating

❥ You both hang out everyday at school, discussing the show and characters, who your favorites were, how the plot was going, etc.

❥ You see him as one of your closest friends now, and eventually you trust him enough to bring him to your house to chill without your family home ;0

❥ The thing was, Midoriya noticed how you would never invite anyone from school to your house, always brushing it off and just saying how your parents would get angry or how dirty your room was

❥ This was the first time you’d ever invited anyone from U.A. over to your house

❥ His thoughts were running wild as you both walked home together: ‘What’s Y/N’s house like? Will their parents be home? Why have they avoided anyone coming over until now? Have they only invited me because we’re dating? Are... are we going to kiss?????’

❥ (For clarification, even with the dorms in place, over the weekend you like to hang out at home where you’re more comfortable)

❥ “We can re-watch some of the episodes for awhile. I think I also have some snacks...” you grinned, and he memorized every detail of your house as you both made your way to your room

❥ He was greeted with a room filled entirely with C/N merchandise, but caught his attention the quickest was your bed

❥ You had a body pillow of C/N

❥ Now Midoriya, like I said before, is a very delusional yandere

❥ He has excuses for literally everything you do. You love him just as much as he loves you after all!

❥ But this

❥ This he cannot ignore

❥ He was just staring at the pillow with a blank face as his eye twitched

❥ “’Zuku? What's wrong?”

❥ “Hmm?” he hummed, turning towards you. “Oh, nothing! It’s just, um, your pillow...”

❥ You felt your face catch on fire as you moved to block his view as you tried to quickly shove it under your bed. “UHM, HAHA SORRY ‘BOUT THAT I FORGOT IT WAS THERE-”

❥ Midoriya was quiet as he watched you struggle at hiding the pillow

❥ He was thinking

❥ He loved All Might a lot, but he’d never buy a body pillow of him

❥ What type of love did you have for C/N?

❥ “Hey Y/N?” You turned to look at him, but the moment your eyes met you felt a shiver run down your back. Izuku was smiling at you, but his whole vibe was different...

❥ ‘Was he angry?’

❥ “Why don’t we watch a different series today?”

In a nutshell, he’d go along with your character obsession up until you cross the line, and that would be either him finding out about you reading fan fiction of C/N, a body pillow of them, or some... questionable fan art you have of them saved on your phone. Then he’d do anything in his power to distance you from that show, hiding your merchandise and distracting you with more hero-related hobbies, like geeking over pro heroes or training. Just please stop simping over C/N. You’re making the smol boi jealous of a fictional character :( Why can’t you just pay attention to him a bit more?

❄️Shoto Todoroki🔥

❥ Tbh he doesn't really acknowledge your love for this certain character for awhile

❥ All he focuses on is that you look really happy and cute when you talk about this show

❥ That’s all that really matters to him 😊

❥ Similar to Izuku, he’ll buy you all of their merchandise just to see you all adorable and excited

❥ And Todoroki is a rich boi so that’s a plus

❥ Will probably buy u all the expensive merchandise and you’ll just be 🥺️💞💞💞

❥ The only reason he never really gets angry is because he doesn't understand what's so terrible about your little obsession with the show/character

❥ He just sees it as a little hobby of yours that you’re really passionate about

❥ Despite his cold demeanor, Shoto is always trying his best to support anything you do

❥ While he can get very intense as a yandere, we gotta remember this is Shoto we’re talking about

❥ He probably has no clue what simping even is

❥ He only gets bothered when you own a body pillow or compliment C/N looks too much (he doesn’t appreciate you getting so worked up over someone who isn’t him... even though you both aren’t technically dating)

❥ But he wont flip out like Midoriya or Bakugou

❥ If you both are on the couch at the dorms and you're just going on and on about C/N he’d prob just like-

❥ Reach over and grab your hand and just state how cute you are

❥ He’s a bit of an idiot when it comes to flirting, but he notices that whenever he touches you in an affectionate way you sort of freeze up and forget what you're talking about for a few seconds

❥ Because of how supportive Shoto’s been you sorta developed feelings as well 

❥ Cause I mean who wouldn't ;)

❥ He becomes your close supportive weeb friend :D (even if he doesn’t completely understand what a weeb is...) 

❥ But Todoroki doesn't like that title that much

❥ But he’ll take it slow because he loves you and wants you to love him back :)

❥ “I like it when you smile like that, Y/N.”

In a nutshell, Yandere Todoroki is prob the calmest of the three. He doesn't understand how simping works and the idea of you passionately loving a fictional character more than him has never crossed his mind. But he uses your love of the show to get closer to you. Closer and closer and closer-

Until maybe he can just be the one to make you smile, and not just that character from the show :)

#yandere x reader #bnha #yandere bnha #bnha yandere #yandere bnha x reader #x reader #yandere imagines #bnha imagines #yandere bnha imagines #yandere todoroki #shoto todoroki #yandere todoroki x reader #yandere deku #yandere midoriya #izuku midoriya #yandere deku x reader #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere bakugo x reader

[football-writing]

Mason Mount - believe in me

Warning: contains mentions of mental health issues and depictions of a panic attack. Also is generally a bit of an angsty one so if you're not comfortable with reading any of that please skip this! And if you yourself are struggling with mental health, I'm always here for you! <3

*also panic attacks can differ from person to person so please take everything i've written with a grain of salt lmao

He was franctically looking for his car keys after the texts he had gotten from her.

"Mase can you come over?

i need u

please"

Double texting wasn't a rare occurence between the two of them, but the tone of texts made worry take over as he quickly texted her back that he'd be there soon.

And as soon as he found his keys, he was sprinting for his car and driving as fast as he legally could to get to her apartment, cursing as he couldn't find a parking spot quick enough for his liking. Then running up the stairs, taking two steps at a time to get to her as soon as possible.

Her door was open already, something she always did when she knew he was coming over, despite him scolding her for it everytime because he was scared someone was gonna break in and hurt her.

Those thoughts were on the back of his mind now as he rushed in, finding her sitting in front of her couch with her knees up to her chest, hugging them tight as her forehead was rested on top of them, shielding her face. Papers were spread around her, some crumbled up in balls, others thrown a few feet in front of her. The mess that was her apartment was a red flag for him, but it didn't shock him as much as the state she was in. Her breaths came out hard and fast as she barely could breath between her erratic sobs.

He stood frozen as he watched her. As quick as he got here, he had no idea what to do when he saw her like that. His chest tightened at seeing her like this, and he was ready to fight whichever bastard caused her to feel this way. Yet the rational side of him knew that that was of no use to her now. But what was? What was he supposed to do when his she was this upset? Sure he'd seen her upset before. But not like this.

He realised he couldn't just stand there either, and so took a few steps towards her. The sound of his footsteps alerted her of his presence, and she looked up through watery eyelashes. Her pale face stained with rundown mascara from her tears, her lips quivering as she silenced her sobs for a short moment to look at him. Yet as soon as she made eyecontact with him, and opened her mouth to try to explain what was going on, or apologise for the state she was in, a loud sob escaped, her breath stocking in her throat as tears flooded her eyes once again.

This time he didn't freeze, although his heart ached just as bad, if not worse. He took another couple of steps until he was right next to her, crouching down as his eyes remained focused on her form.

"Hey sweetheart. Shh, it's okay. Can I hug you, baby?" His tone was soft as he asked her, yet she shook her head vigorously and squeezed her eyes shut tightly at his question as her breathing instantly became more uneven, and he thought she was going to faint if her breathing came out any faster than it did now.

But how was he going to comfort her when she didn't want him to hold her?

It was then that he remembered one of his mates telling him about a panic attack he had, how he couldn't think straight, or breathe, barely utter out a coherent sentence as his mind had wandered to awful things, and although it had sounded rough to him at the time, seeing her like this made him fully recognise how terrifying it is. He wished he had asked his mate more about it, then, so he knew what to do. Although he had no idea how to start such a conversation with him. Nor with her, for that matter.

So he did what he thought would help her most. He picked up some of the papers spread out around her, neatly stacking them together as he emptied a space next to her. Enough so he could sit down there, his back against the couch just like hers. Soothing words spilled from his lips in an attempt to calm her down. He almost reached out a hand to touch her, rub her back soothingly, or stroke her hair to make sure it didn't get in her face. Yet he withheld his urge to do so, even if it was the most natural way for him to comfort her.

"Hey. You don't have to say anything, okay? It's gonna be okay, I'm here. Shh, it's okay, love. I'm not going anywhere."

His soothing words did nothing to ease her mind, her cries coming out more ragged than before. He had no idea how he could've possibly made it worse, and panicked as to what to say next. Instead, she started speaking, her words cut off by devestating sobs and hiccups and gasps as she tried to take in as much air as she could.

"I thought I had it under control but- but I don't and everyone hates me now. Everyone hates me! And there's too much and- I don't have time and everything is messed up and I don't know how to goddamn fix it - I can't fucking fix it. I don't know what to do- I can't do it, Mase. I can't do it." She repeated those last few words over and over like she was stuck in a bad mantra, her voice raw and loud and full of pain.

"Hey, babygirl. Shush, it's okay. No one hates you, alright. I wouldn't be here if I did, right?" He tried to reason with her, tried to swallow the lump in his throat and steady his voice, not wanting to let on how much it affected him. It would do her no good. "Just keep breathing, yeah. Deep breaths, babygirl, just like that." He said as he demonstrated how to do it. It took her a good few minutes to get her breathing under control again, but he was patient with her as he kept guiding her, words of encouragement filling the air every time her breathing threathened to become unsteady again.

After her breathing became steady, as steady as it could, her sobs still continued. Her eyes spilling tear after tear that ran down her cheeks only to be caught by the sleeves of her sweater that her chin rested upon.

"I'm such a failure. I can't even function properly and look at me! Look at the mess I made!" She cried out exasperated. "I'm so worthless Mase. You shouldn't even be here, I just bring you down. I'm no good Mason. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Y/N," He tone was commanding, forcing her to look up at him. He kept eye contact as he spoke. "If you cannot believe in yourself, believe in me. You are the most wonderful, funny, intelligent and allround beautiful person I know. You are not a failure. At all. Whatever this is, we can fix it, okay? I got you, and we'll figure it out together. I'm not going anywhere."

His words were reassuring enough for her to steady her breathing, which eased the tight feeling in his chest. She lifted her head too, instead opting to sit back against the couch completely, the back of her head resting on the seat.

"Can you-" a sob interrupted her softspoken words "distract me?" A whispered 'please' followed her question as she turned her face to look at him. Her eyes were puffy and red, as were her cheeks. She still looked incredibly upset, but her sobs were less loud, and she seemed to have calmed down considerably from the state she was in when he found her.

"Yeah. Of course." He smiled softly at her.

"Do you want me to tell you about my day?"

She nodded as she wiped her nose with the sleeve that was pulled over the back of her hand.

And so he told her all about what he had been up to. It felt weird talking about his day, after all it had been quite decent up until her text. Still, he tried to talk as animatedly as he could, knowing it would cheer her up. He told her about how his sister had texted him pictures of her daughter's birthday cake, or what was left of it as her daughter had eaten it. With her bare hands, that is. Her hands that she had also somehow rubbed over the entire dining table and parts of the couch.

The story got a small chuckle out of her, and after a few more sniffles she seemed to have stopped crying. Yet he told her about his training too, in hopes of hearing her beautiful laugh ring throug his ears once again. He told her about how him and some of his teammates had dared Ben to get in the washing machine, and locked him up for a bit too. How funny he looked through the little window of the machine, how one of his mates had nearly pissed himself laughing so hard, and how Thiago had come in with no clue what was going on, having the most confused look on his face as he saw Ben stuck in the washing machine. The others laughing even harder, some of them with tears in their eyes.

The story made a smile appear on her face, but it wasn't until he showed her the video on his phone that she actually let out a small laugh. She had scooted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder to watch the video.

Somewhere along the whole ordeal he had resorted to pulling his knees up, rubbing his own shins in comfort instead of reaching out to her. It was instinctual, really, and he hadn't even noticed he was doing it, or still doing it, until she rested her hand atop of his, stopping his movement in the process.

"Sorry for scaring you. And saying no to the hug." She said sincerely after a few beats of silence, her voice still hoarse from crying, her fingers intertwining with his.

"Hey, no apologising for any of this, okay?" His voice was stern; he absolutely did not want her to feel guilty.

"Sorry." Although he couldn't see her face, and her voice still sounded strained, he knew she was smiling as she said it. Their usual teasing being back on meant she was okay. As much as she could be okay at this very moment.

"What did I just say, huh?" He joked as he put his arm around her, squeezing her tightly for a second before tracing soothing patterns on her upper arm with his indexfinger.

"You have these often?" His voice was more gentle than before, his tone serious again as he stilled his movements in anticipation of her answer.

"Yeah, sometimes. They come and go, really." She confessed.

"How come you never told me?"

"I don't know. Just never came up. S'not something you just blurt out." She shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, and he was quiet for a few beats before replying.

"I wouldn't have judged you, you know that, right?"

She hummed in response.

"Just want to make sure I know what to do to help you. How to make it more bearable for you."

"This was alright." Her voice was small, but his heart still warmed at her words.

He continued his tracing patterns on her arm then, as he contemplated what to say next.

"You want to talk about why it happened?" He could feel her tense under him as the question spilled from his mouth, and he scrunched up his nose in frustration as he cursed himself. Did he have to ask that and make her upset again?

"Not really. If that's okay?"

"Of course, love. I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about anything alright. We can do whatever you want. I'll do whatever you want my dear."

"Can we sit on the couch instead, then? My butt hurts from sitting on the floor." He let out a loud laugh at her sudden boldness. He knew they'd have another talk about it soon, once she wasn't as overwhelmed with emotions, and he hoped it wouldn't be necessary, but he wanted to learn more. Why she was stressed, what he could do to help her, both in situations like these, but also to prevent her from feeling like this at all.

"Will you cuddle with me, Mase?" She had made herself comfortable on the couch and grabbed the remote to look for something to watch on the telly, presumably her comfort series. Her voice cracked as she asked the question, and Mason smiled at that.

"I'll get you a glass of water first, 'ight?"

"And my blanket, please. It's in the right cupboard over there." She pointed to the right place as she smiled innocently at him. He rolled his eyes playfully at her request, pretending it was a mighty challenging request, and she stuck out her tongue in response. He also pretended not to hear her muttering something about spoiled footballers.

Still, it put a smile on his face. Even if she was still upset, knowing she could joke around with him, and felt comfortable enough doing so, meant that she wasn't in that bad place anymore. At least for now. He didn't want to risk her getting another panic attack while he wasn't there to help her though, so he opted to stay with her for the rest of the day and not moan about her jokes of him being a stereotypical footballer like he usually would.

It's not like he minded it all too much, anyway.

#God i'm so bad at ending these im sorry #also i didnt want to end it on too much of an angsty note i hope thats okay #also mason's love language is 1000% physical touch and you cant convince me otherwise lol #so this was hard to write but yeah i thought it was sorta fitting so i hope its okay and you enjoyed it :) #Mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount oneshot #mason mount fic #mason mount imagine #tw panic attack #<- just in case x

[jiminrings]

Okay I just wanna say that I really love your writing!!! Hope you and chimmy are doing well! Can I request a drabble with merman tae and y/n's a human and they're childhood besties and tae likes her but she's a dumb little bean. I just realised how many 'ands' are in that sentence. If you don't like it then...ahem know that I still love you!!! 💖💖💖

pearl of mine

pairing: taehyung x y/n

wordcount: 5k

glimpse: merman!tae is the reason why tourists can’t find any more shells and pearls in the shore, y/n owns more beach houses than deduction skills, and concierge!yoongi’s the hero :D // gif from pinterest

notes: are u kidding me baby i love it AND you!!!! chimmy barks his regards <3

“hmm? where’s barnacle boy?”

alright there goes your peace and quiet

it’s very nice to know that where yoongi is, translates to meaning that all your peaceful thoughts automatically aren’t there

if he’s not manning the concierge, it means he’s there keeping you company!!

annoying you

your ten minutes of bliss of just having your calves dipped into the water is interrupted now but it’s ok!!

after all, yoongi’s ur right-hand man anyways!! he’s the one who keeps track of everything and you’re so close to convicing your dad to put him in the family will too

you can’t manage your family business all by yourself!! how exactly are you gonna manage fIVE of the hotels that your parents have put under your care by yourself

five of the seventeen hotels that your family owns..,.,.,

（；＿；）

your dad gives you tOO much trust and he believes in you like actually a lot

a lot more than you could ever trust yourself tbh

he doesn’t want you to take charge only when he retires or dies!! you’re his little dove and he wants you to be as immersed in your family’s group of companies

it’s generous but of course it’s hectic

which is why you’re spearheading the handling of the actual main hotel he’s put under you!!

and the rest of the less major ones, you’ve had to go through a long and tedious process for so you could find an actual trustable manager and supervisor that wouldn’t commit embezzlement and-

yoongi’s about to scare you again by nudging your lower back with his foot, but you’re ahead of him when you nip his ankle with your nails

“... it’s mermaid man.”

he scoffs out a laugh because what was supposed to be a teasing nudge for your friend that’s clearly nOT human, turned to your joke instead of his

he doesn’t need to look at his watch to know what time it was by then bc he’s practically memorized the skies and the tide at this point

every 5:20 in the afternoon, you and taehyung would meet here!!

you come outside at exactly 4:50 to give yourself some leeway into preparing whatever you’d be giving him or rather, pestering yoongi what you think you should give him for that afternoon

it doesn’t necessarily have to be grand! on most days you just make him waffles without the crusty edges (he likes it the most when it’s so hot that it was still soft and jiggly) and the filling would be whatever food he hasn’t tried yet

.... basically.......... almost everything

but now it’s 5:23 and he could tell with how the water didn’t settle to the wooden platform as well as it did when it was 5:20

yoongi could actually TELL the difference because he’s seen you do this for the four years he’s been working here

the hotel had three wings — the shore wing, the balcony-sturdy-treehouse-type of wing, and the cabana wing

you bounce all around the place because naturally, you aRE the boss here, but afternoons really were just reserved for the cabana wing

where there’s a staff cabana by one of the wooden paths that lead to it, and one specifically reserved for you and probably yoongi now lmao bc he wouldn’t take a nap anywhere else

it’s you just sitting by the deck of your cabana that houses your too-expensive waffle maker, and a cozy blanket then deck pillows outside where you lay when taehyung’s there perched by the wood

you easily have three plates always, and yoongi just goes a lil bit soft that you let him intrude your routine with the merman

but today, all that highLy seems unlikely

“he’s totally not coming,” he exaggerates all in one breath, not having the decency to wait bc he’s stuffing his cheeks full with waffles

everything’s a hit or miss with mermaid man anyways and yoongi would rather nOT try his adventures of waffles with buttered rice in between no thank u

so that’s why he’s sticking with his trusty s’mores waffle!!! :D

put chocolate spread in between while it’s STILL in the pan, then tiny little marshmallows with crushed graham crackers and 10/10 u will see heaven

he gets crumbs on your sundress and you barely even grimace because you’re used to yoongi and all his yoongi-ness at this point

“yes he is! we’ve been doing this everyday without fail for like, twelve years already.”

you know what.,.,., maybe even longer than twelve years

this one’s marked on your calendar you can just SNIFF it

what you distinctly remember is your dad picking you up from school then suddenly deciding that he’ll teach you the ropes

you knew what everything was coming to because suddenly, you’d take your daily after-school snacks at the hotel

and then your weekends were slowly merging into memorizing names and amenities

... and then sitting by your dad’s chair with a juicebox when he had meetings

then before you even realize, you’re managing five hotels under your name and a particularly large one mainly

it was when you’ve had a suckish day at school because you cannot seem to just gET the multiplication table of 7 and your dad’s chasing after you again so you could get to see the fire escape plans as “fun little puzzles!!”

ya know what maybe you should go outside

it didn’t exactly click into your young mind that holy shit your family’s LOADED

all you knew was that people greeted you left and right even if you didn’t know them and you’d always be offered stuff you didn’t even ask for :D

all you cared about was skipping by the cabanas but holding by the rope on the side bc what if you fell lmao

yet what did fall to the water beside you was your bracelet!!!

:((

a red, single-threaded, string bracelet from your wrist that must’ve gotten loose

it’s something you’ve never took off and the sheer panic in your mind was tOO HIGH

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

even before you could call out to your dad though, or any of the staff that would literally drop everything to help you, something just shifts in the water

it’s too quick for you to even decipher and the multiplication table of 7 would’ve been easier to figure out

the moment you crouch by the end of the deck was when you see it aGAIN

there’s this incredibly pretty boy that emerges from the water, only his shoulders up to his head peeking out

he most certainly didn’t look... from around here tho

your attention’s immediately fixated on your bracelet, the one on his mouth as he only tilts his head when you do the same, an eager squeal breaking him out

hold on

wait a second

you’ve seen this in the tv sometimes!!! they were uh creatures that liked being by themselves in the sea

lol which is basically every sea creature

but the narrator said something about them looking like humans???

AND BESIDES

you overhear your dad talking about them sometimes

AND THEN IT HITS

THE HANDSOME FACE!! THE SHINY PRETTY-

up and age???

opened etch????

how do u spell that again

THE TAIL!!! THE PRETTY TAIL LOOKING LIKE THING!!!

“o-oh!! you’re-...”

“t-taehyung...?”

the boy who looks like your age replies, looking unsure of himself yet didn’t want to disappoint you either

you meant merman but it’s okay!!

your hands retrieve the bracelet from his mouth, a little giggle at the complexity of the situation

he was completely sold at that

this was his first human!!! his first actual human interaction and it wasn’t really bad as what his brothers painted out to be

you and taehyung took off from then and ya know what,,, maybe you even start purposefully dropping things in the water if you feel a little impatient that he hasn’t peeked his head yet

and yes yes that’s a completely iRRESPONSIBLE thing and your dad stopped you before you could possibly throw out a whole backpack into the water

which was weird for him to look at because there’s absolutely no one he could see in the water

it was a routine that not one of you ever skipped on once!!

even if you were sick and tae thinks that it’s the most pathetic thing because he doesn’t EVER get sick??? sue him for having a cold because he’s in the water 24/7 yea

even if one was late and wouldn’t be able to see the other, there would be an item placed by the deck as proof that they were indeed there!!

tae sometimes leaves a random conch shell or even seaweed in the shape of a heart when he’s swamped with his arrangements

even if there’s a storm, which taehyung absolutely loves because the water’s all cold!!! and it gives him a fun little ride when the waves are all wonky

you leave out a lunchbox that’s snug in a fixed mailbox (you forced yoongi to attach it) by the side of the deck poles and that would count as your attendance

“yes he is! we’ve been doing this everyday without fail for like, twelve years already.”

you are totally UNBELIEVABLE

yoongi snorts, almost choking on his waffles with how hard he did it

“and you’re twelve years dumb.”

ok now you take offense

huh???

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

you can’t be any more clueless, can you??

as if on cue, there’s the familar flop and splash that you nudge yoongi to be in his best behavior

taehyung makes his afternoon appearance by outlandishly doing his trick in the air, undoubtedly giving you a splash you’re used to by now

he literally does not care at the thought of anyone possible seeing him

besides, they physically can’t anyway because there’s a spell cast onto the area, allowing nobody to see them besides you

... and yoongi ://

he’s rather grand with his gestures and his words and even before taehyung knew the common lingo on ground, you could tell he was a little more stubborn with his strong expressions

after all, taehyung’s a prince at sea but at land.,.,.,.

<3 well <3

“i’m here!”

taehyung bEAMS radiantly, making you crouch and hold out your hands, him putting his face out immediately for you to squish

“oh, oh! i got you something, y/n!”

he seems to remember out of the blue in the middle of chewing his waffles, yoongi having to suppress another sigh

the prettiest pearl necklace :-)

“tae i already told you that-...”

you’re about to start berating him again with the gifts because what seemed to be so ordinary for him is very fAR from yours

you pout and tae only pushes the necklce to you further, not taking no for answer when he had to squint his eyes extra hard to look for the pearls this morning

to be honest you have sO much jewelry from taehyung

the common theme of it was of course they’re something you could get at sEA

and whenever people ask you about them, u have no idea how to tell where you got them

today’s pearl necklace was a little different — something more dainty and smaller and wraps around your neck like a choker would, a little more suited for everyday wear

“thank you!!!”

you smooch taehyung on the cheek extra quick and it takes every fiber in his tail to stop squealing

yoongi watches you two be disgustingly sweet and PLATONIC yet again, and he could only zero in on the pearl necklace around your neck

that is the fifth time this week

that is the fifth set of pearls you’ve gotten this week

normally you’d get a pearl every now and then and the often minuature sand sculptures

but this week changes the wHOLE ball game

“do you want a pearl ring?”

taehyung wiggles his eyebrows, boxy smile on full display and he looks breathtaking in the golden hours that you immediately poke his cheek

yoongi’s eyes widen because that’s literally-

you don’t seem to find the weight on his question because you only let out a non-commital sound and whisk him away on another conversation about his day

he’s long since dropped out of yours and taehyung’s conversation, going back to the concierge because his presence is required

and he still can’t shake off how CLUELESS you are

it’s when the night gets a little more chilly and you could see taehyung go beneath the water more often, taking it as a sign that he’s going back and his brothers are looking for him

“night-night, tae.”

you offer the top of his head a kiss, rushing back to the cabana to put on your coat and right on time, you miss the way taehyung’s eyes are bigger than a goldfish’s

(@_@)

oh my god

oh my fucking god

taehyung really hATES you

he hates you so much!!!!

SO SO MUCH

he resigns back into the water and he doesn’t even move at all

just defeatedly sits on the seabed and his aura effectively puts off everything around him

his heart’s beyond heavy and his eyes sting and he never wants to resurface ever again

he’s trying not to get upset too much because his emotions have the capacity of changing the tide and it would literally resonate through the seas if he gets even more sad

taehyung’s trying to rEPRESS everything back in but it’s no use :((

“hey, hey, calm down. what’s wrong?”

his brother immediately swims to his side at the first slight tremor he felt, having only little trouble in locating him

“i-i asked y/n if she wanted a pearl-...” tae stutters and he has to physically hold his chest to not sOB at your name, an insurmountable feeling of dread at his chest 

yeah, you! namjoon knows you

in fact all his brothers know you and you’ve met each other multiple times, but not as often as you and tae did

they don’t need to see you everyday to know that taehyung is head over tails in LOVE with you

the mention of you and their brother’s gifts in the same sentence isn’t anything new

“okay? but you give her pearls all the time? and-”

“... ring.”

oh

OH

pearl ring

“yeah? and what did she say?”

joon himself tries to quell the distress he feels because taehyung’s emotions are morE than potent to affect to everyone, most especially his brothers

he sees the others swimming to them from afar, worried frowns already on their faces and namjoon doesn’t want to panic even more

“nothing!! she said nOTHING!!!!”

jungkook tilts his head, cheeks puffed out as he tries to diffuse the situation

“but tae, it could mean-...”

“nothing. y/n absolutely wants nothing to do with me!”

taehyung half-huffs and half-sobs, immediately swimming past them that leaves them confused and with a headache

this was definitely going to be a problem

it already is

today has got to be the slowest day ever

the water is so still and timid

oh my god it literally just looks like tap water in a bathtub that’s untouched

you’ve noticed in the first thing in the morning

was it nORMAL to have the water so still???? practically no waves at all??? not even ripples????

you must be losing your mind right

you dragged yoongi from the concierge desk all the way outside

he squints his eyes because the water.... is definitely not supposed to be this way....

“huh. now that’s just odd.”

some of your patrons don’t seem to mind at all because that just means they could go take their pictures without waves putting their phones at risk

but nO

most especially the swimmers n the surfers and even the lifeguard are all ????

everyone’s collectively looking at the water

yoongi takes a twig and just pokes at it to go do ATLEAST something, but even the ripples it produces are mundane

the water is too still and it makes you miss the one who makes it all better

you spend the better part of your whole day in your sundress and hanging around the cabana, yoongi scrunching his nose up at the fact that he seemed to be more active than the actual hotelier here today

“taehyung doesn’t go up for another seven hours, y’know?”

he finds you sitting by the edge of the deck, feet vigorously splashing around the water without any resistance at all that it feels so unnerving

“yea i know that... just wanted to hang out with him.”

you murmur out the last part, making yoongs do a double-take at his boss who was never this soft-spoken

“and that’s what you’ve been doing ever since childhood? sit by the edge then hang out?”

he wants to push a couple of buttons to get you out of your phase of the day today, but he only gets some insistent nodding and nothing more

“that’s so mundane. that’s literally a decade-long routine!!”

“it’s a routine i don’t mind!!”

and that’s true

it’s a routine you want to do with the rest of your life because it now feels like the equivalent of showering basically

you feel so incomplete without it and satisfaction doesn’t settle on your bones until you do it with taehyung :D

“surely, there must be sOME reason for taehyung to not get bored from doing the same thing with you, right?”

alright one more nudge

you’re considerably more perky now that’s for sure

but that doesn’t mean any less clueless unfortunately

“must be the food!!”

oh my god,,,,,, u are so dumb

he leaves you alone and you don’t even question it because you’re too busy waiting for taehyung

you expect the tide to change when it’s already noon but really, nothing happens still

5:20 passes and he still isn’t there

it’s time for dinner and yoongi has to fetch you aLL the way from the other side of the wings he needed to supervised because you’re spending all your time waiting

you were supposed to have dinner with staff tonight but you don’t even think twice in telling him to go eat without you, giving the company card more than eagerly

“don’t you think it’s time to go home?”

yoongi pipes up when they’ve finished dinner and you’re still there

he feels so sorry for you :((

“w-what if he shows up last minute?”

there’s still hope in your voice and he doesn’t want to taint it as much as people

“hey. they need sleep too. you should go get some for yourself too, okay? now just leave a cookie or something,” he has to pry you off the deck himself, not wanting to feel any more sorry for you because you’re starting to tremble with how chilly the air is

taehyung doesn’t resurface the next day

or the next

and the day after that

taehyung doesn’t show up the entire week.

you’re worried OUT of your mind and you’re tempted to just take your dad’s yacht and sail across the water to try and look for him

or oR maybe you should get one of the divers to try and look for him!!!! but no that wouldn’t work, would it??

how about you go and look for tae yourself???

yoongi’s been busy with the hotel bc the actual hotelier of it (read: you) is too busy MOPING

you’ve ditched your sundresses and waited in hoodies and sweatpants you could roll up in the morning and roll down at night to wait for him

most people don’t even recognize you as the owner and they just walk rIGHT past you when they see you in the hallways

you’ve also been stress-making waffles that you reek of the batter and butter, the staff now having an abundance of experimental ones that you’ve made

you’re definitely not okay

“uh y/n you really rEALLY need to go to sleep.,.,”

yoongi gapes at you when he visits you at the cabana, clearing his schedule out to go watch over you and bc your dad won’t sit still with how unkempt you’ve been

he gestures to the hammock you’ve always begged him to put up, but his handiwork’s wASTED because you don’t even spend more than five seconds looking at it

you should be screaming with glee by now :((

how in the world could he possibly distract you from crushing sadness and worry

he’s been brainstorming the past week and his head’s even more hollow than the decorative coconuts in the gift shop

... wait a minute

hey this has got to be his most stupid idea but the one with the most promising results!!!!!

11/10 risky but it’s the cLOSEST he could get!!

“hey do you wanna do something stupid??”

your eyes glance at him immediately because it’s the first question he’s ever asked you besides if you’re okay or when was the last time you slept or when do you intend on picking yourself up

yoongi fishes for his tablet and whips up a video immediately, only taking minutes for him to explain and seconds for you to agree

it’s what made you end up this way

it’s the reason in your swimsuit with your legs all the way inside a duvet cover and the corners of it knotted tightly on your waist

you don’t know how yoongi’s managed to convince you to race him in swimming with your whole lower body inside a king-sized dUVET cover from one of the cabanas whose guests are arriving in an hour, but here you are lmao

“first one to the furthest cabana wins, alright?”

he practically yelps in explaining in an effort to hype you up and a hundred dollars dOES seem to make him excited himself 

you’re buzzing for the first time in the week and it’s the panicked shoves you try to give each other before starting that kicks you off in an eager mood 

“GO!”

you immediately dive in and you don’t expect the heaviness of your makeshift tail behind you, momentarily cussing yourself because wHY on earth did you get the high-quality ones smh ://

oh my god this is so fucking stupid and oddly enough, you’re ENJOYING it

you can’t exactly paddle your legs fluidly like the times when they aren’t wrapped in a duvet, and the distance of the last cabana seems so tiring now that u think about it

yoongi’s already ahead and you don’t get HOW has he managed to come that far???

also not to mention that the gap between the two of you is large and now you’re just struggling to even move

also doesn’t help oNE bit with how good of a handyman yoongi also is because that is one secure knot you got there sir

it’s only dawning in you that you’re NOT well-versed in swimming!!

not even close to an expert!!! all you know are the basics

but the basics seem hard to even apply when you’re dragging a king-sized duvet cover by your legs

you’d expect more skills from someone whose family owns water-centric properties bUT NO <3

you’re flailing almost to the bottom and your eyes sting then your limbs feel heavy

you’re not necessarily drowning either, it just feels so difficult to swim back up

you’re about to try again and boost yourself up by pushing from the floor but then suddenly you’re being HAULED BACK UP

you have no chance to even try and get away because you know that the hand around your waist aren’t yoongi’s

“are you out of your goddamn mind???”

you instinctively take a big gulp of air when you come up the surface, legs fluttering now that you have some type of support to keep you up

“why would you do this?? who did this??”

the deep voice only registers in you seconds later that it’s taehyung who’s in front of you and holding you up, staring you down intensely

your puzzlement only frustrates him even more, going back down while keeping his hands on your waist before he untangles the duvet cover by your legs rather quickly and powerfully

he emerges back up and he’s looking at you with sO much stress that you wanna dive back down

“y-yoo-...”

you don’t even manage to finish speaking before taehyung snaps his gaze away from you and really yELLS

“YOONGI!!!”

as if he didn’t manage to startle you enough, he looks back at you and pats at you all over out of instinct, wanting to know if you’re hurt by any means

you’re more shocked but it’s over the fact that you’re finally seeing him again

this isn’t the first time you’ve swam with taehyung but this IS the first time in this context

you’ve never been this close to him either and you’re out of breath just by looking at him

he doesn’t seem to share the sentiment though because he looks like he’s gonna pull his hair out in both relief and frustration

“oh my god! i fucking thought that my soulmate would die in a — i-in a bedsheet!”

you are so ridiculous that it actually makes his heart clench

he intentionally didn’t come to see you for a week because he was so hurt over your rejection

he did see you from a distance and he also has a particular someone to watch over you, but he never imagined that you’d be doing THIS

his heart just minutes ago was beating against his ribcage because his soulmate was in danger!!! he physically and literally cannot drown but that’s what it felt like

“i’m your soulmate?”

your breathless gasp explains it all

:O

oh so...

oh my god how could you have nOT known this all along???

HOW COULD YOU BE SO OBLIVIOUS

taehyung probably acted this way and most especially that way when he ignored you!!!

you vaguely remember yoongi telling you that pearls PROBABLY mean a lot to taehyung even if the tone he’s used on you is beyond certain

the pearl ring was meant for courting!!!

that explains why yoongi gasped and looked at you inrcredulously!!!!

no he’s been courting you ALL this time

you are so..... insuffeable

“i’m so sorry!!” 

you’ve crammed in twelve years of experience into two minutes of critical thinking, throwing your arms around taehyung and burying your face into his neck

he grunts a bit at that but he’s not complaining at all

“you mUST hate me,” you frown and the need to cry overpowers you, taehyung sensing it again which is why he immediately strokes your nape in comfort

“i could never.”

the waves come back and even if they’re present, the water was calming

you’re too entranced with tae and your realizations to even notice that the water felt so much better compared to when it was dead still

it’s when you hear a familiar set of giggles that you sNAP your head in anger

yOONGI????

yoongi’s much more near you now, floating and floating until you make the move to look down and see not a duvet cover, but rather a tangerine-colored tail by him

all you’ve been doing this day is squeaking

tae, although still a lil bit mad at yoongi because he’s endangered you, smiles at his informant who’s helped make him last through the week

“half-merman!! i’m sorry if i didn’t tell you sooner, y/n. but since tae’s full, that’s the reason he could only come on land once a month! and since i’m half, i could only come underwater once a month!!”

he grins at his explanation he’s been trying to piece together for the last couple of months

ok maybe years

it probably explained to why it’s no accident that he’s clicked with you instantly and he trusts you with his whole life!! you were truly a gentle human that’s an all-rounder

also explains to why yoongi wasn’t all THAT shocked when you brought him out one day on his first year of working and pleaded taehyung to rise up with only even his eyes blinking up at him

no wonder tae warmed up to yoongi quick even if he did say he had distrust with majority of humans!!

how could you not doubt for one second that it’s the reason why he’s always been really good at swimming too and holding his breath

yoongi chose his day of the month to be today because you were so down in the dumps, and aLSO for the reasoning that he missed the boys so that’s why he’s going down there in a heartbeat

taehyung pinches at your thigh, a bright grin on your face when you come face to face with him after waving yoongi goodbye

“are you gonna make me wait another twelve years more?”

he pecks your cheek and it doesn’t feel platonic anymore, a giddy smile in realization that you’ve finally come to your senses

“would you mind?”

://

the teasing lilt in your voice doesn’t seem to go anywhere anytime soon hee-hee

“maybe a little but-“

“no more waiting.”

you kiss taehyung and almost launch yourself at him, savoring the taste of him on your tongue that he has to grip your thighs around his waist a little tighter

yeah ur a little slow but ur spirits are high!! you’re on the right direction!!

you’re definitely worth waiting for

and panicking over

and courting

and loving

:)

#feedback pls and thank u :D #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung imagine #taehyung imagines #taehyung drabble #taehyung drabbles #taehyung oneshot #taehyung oneshots #taehyung au #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #merman!taehyung #taehyung fic rec #taehyung fic recs #taehyung x reader oneshot #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung fluff imagine #AHHHHHHH PLS I HOPE THIS GOES WELL

[xiu21chen99]

hxh headcanon/imagine.

again... still about hisoillu but about their engagement instead of illu's influenced fashion choice.

also this is more of... idk it gave reason why they chose to marry instead of uh other ways i guess??

i've seen so many fanarts where illu would break the news to the zoldycks or how killu would react to having hisoka as his brother in law- like srsly it's meme worthy at this point- and lotsa ones that showed how hisoka proposed as a joke or smtg but... I've been overthinking abt it these past few days sO i present to you how i think "the big question aka the proposal" happened... (manga spoilers??)

it's after hisoka resurrected himself obviously, and def after he killed kortopi and shalnark (so he knew there was gonna be empty slots in the spiders' lineup)

i imagine illu went back to the zoldyck estate after the whole fiasco and only heard of hisoka's "death" from rumors while he was on a mission

and then when he was idk maybe contemplating on whether or not he should visit the body(?) to pay respects or something, he gets a text message from the devil himself

their text went like this probably:

hisoka: hey~ where are you right now?♠️ (and no u can't tell me hisoka doesn't text w card suits u just can't-)

illumi: who are you and how did you get the phone you are currently using?

hisoka: ooh~ illu~ i feel betrayed, did you delete my number?♣️

illumi: hisoka is dead

hisoka: *image attached*

illumi: oh

illumi: hello hisoka, how are you still alive?

hisoka: you sound disappointed~♦️

illumi: i kind of am...

hisoka: rude, just tell me where you are♥️

...and that's how they met up?? ngl i think illu has a know-it-all syndrome where he just has to,,, k n o w everything

he's curious so he agrees to the meetup ofc

he's also surprised when he sees hisoka is in good shape when they meet (idk at a bar in an unknown city?)

they drink whiskey on the rocks because... you know...

hisoka explains how he survived and his next plan of action (which is terminate the spiders)

illumi makes a mental note of nen after death bc he's heard and seen it all before but... not to this extent,

this is gonna be,,, bland but i think this is the logic behind why hisoka chose to get married/engaged instead of just paying up front (reference to the ten dons' commission to get chrollo killed and chrollo's commission to get the ten dons killed)--

anyways here's how their conversation goes:

i: "why did you want to talk in person?"

h: "oh y'know, for old times sake."

i: "...right"

hisoka laughs, "okay so maybe i want to ask you for a favor..?"

confused, illumi asks, "why could you not have just texted if you wanted me to kill someone for you?"

h: "no, no- wait, actually, you're not too far off."

i: ~mOrE cOnfUsiOn~ "huh?"

h: "how do contracts for assassination work in your... family business?"

i: "half the promised pay before, the remaining half afterwards. should the target be eliminated by a third party, the assigned zoldyck still gets the pay and should the employer die, then the contract is terminated and the zoldyck will report back immediately."

h: "and has anyone made a contract to have themselves terminated?"

i: "i beg your pardon?"

h: "what complications will arise should your employer's target be... themselves?"

i: "i believe... i have never encountered such circumstance before. the people who hire us are those who have enough money and resource to have their enemies killed quickly. no one's tried to test the zoldyck assassination prowess."

h: "so... how will that work?"

i: "are you implying this is the reason why you have contacted me today?"

h: "yes~ ♥️" (how he said a heart emoji out loud is up to you, reader)

i: "it will be a pointless paradox. logically, the zoldyck will only get the employment bill. and i, myself, do not find pleasure in going for the kill like you lest i get my reward, so you will not get a contract out of me, hisoka."

h: "is there no leeway?"

i: "a zoldyck stands up to their word. so no."

h: "even for a friend?~ ♦️"

i: "we are not friends, hisoka-"

hisoka raises his glass of whiskey along with his eyebrow.

i: "oh..."

h: "didn't you tell dear killua that a zoldyck didn't need friends?"

i: "you... are an associate, someone reliable in the killing world. it's different."

h: "hypocrite"

i: "i ask you for favors and you make me return them. it is not like we spend our time together leisurely like killu with that island boy..."

hisoka clinks their matching glasses of whiskey even though his is already empty, a shit-eating grin on his lips.

i: "you suggested we meet here."

h: "this isn't the first time we went out to drink, right illu?"

i: "regardless!! i will not kill you just for half the money. i do not like wasting efforts on fruitless missions."

h: "as i said, is there no exception, to make sure you get my money if you were to succeed in killing me?"

i: "are you doubting my skill, hisoka?"

h: "that's not the point right now~ ♠️"

i: "wait, why do you want me to get all of your money?"

h: "haven't we just gotten over this subject? because you're my friend, of course."

i: "i... we are not friends, hisoka."

hisoka claps, "that's it! illumi!! ♣️"

i: "eh?"

h: "marry me! that way in our prenup I'll make sure you get all of my money, and even without a prenup you'll still get it since you'll be my only relative! that solves it!"

i: "hisoka, are you sure death did not took a toll on your brain? you did say you used Bungee Gum only on your heart and lungs..."

h: "i'm being serious, illumi!! and doesn't this solve your earlier conflict? we don't have to be friends, we'll be husbands!"

i: "do not use that tactic with me, you manipulative bastard. stop joking."

h: "this is purely beneficial for you, honestly i don't get why you just won't accept it."

i: "then humor me this first, why now?"

h: "dear illu, i've been to literal hell and back. i think it's time to leave my mark in case i fail to escape death again."

i: "was it that bad?"

h: "you'll love it there, illu~ ♥️"

h: "on a more serious note, though, i do plan to marry you. out of everyone i've encountered, you're the most eligible candidate. you're powerful, fully capable and extremely pretty to boot! you're the ideal husband!"

(blushing obviously, illumi downs the remaining whiskey in his glass) i: "death has changed you, hisoka."

h: "so?"

i: "fine."

h: "excellent!"

and in one fell swoop, illumi has a pin against the curve of hisoka's jugular, wrist held tightly by hisoka- a card matching against his own neck.

"not yet, dear husband." hisoka whispered into his ear, "we have to manage the papers first. and i've a request before you do."

they let each other go at the same time, not even breathing an unnecessary breath in the other's personal space (well, they're nearly pressed thigh to thigh anyways, what's the point of personal space anymore-)

"a condition rather than a request, really."

"what?" hisoka orders them refills, and downs his when it arrives.

"join the ryodan first."

glass already pressed on thin lips, illumi's confused hum resonates softly into the concave utensil. "why?"

"so things can get more interesting. i assume you know of the dark continent expedition that's soon to take place?"

"father has advised i take part on it, since kalluto told me the ryodan plans to rob some cliches who'll join the expedition- to look after him. you want me to join them?"

"yes, and i plan to board as well, don't fret."

illumi's eyes turn to slits, "how should i know you would be there? i can't take your word when you might just disappear when we've all boarded."

hisoka grins, wide then wider, "you should know by now illu, i plan to avenge my wounded pride. that damned chrollo didn't even fight me properly."

tilting his head, illumi stared at the man beside him, "is that not contradictory? i thought you did not mind your opponent using whatever means necessary to win?"

"magicians use tricks and misdirection to awe the audience," hisoka says almost thoughtlessly, "chrollo's a narcissistic hypnotist who used the audience as a damned shield because he knew he couldn't handle me face-to-face."

he groans, tinged in regret. "i shouldn't have picked heaven's arena, if i'd chosen a more discreet location then maybe the damage won't be this bad."

"damage?" illumi rests his chin on his palm, facing his husband.

hisoka swipes a hand over his face, and the glamour comes off. the picture he sent illumi now present in front of him. he was missing a nose, his left hand didn't have any finger left and dried blood chipped on his white skin. "oh."

with another swipe, everything's made correct again. hisoka was grinning again. he downs the remaining alcohol and leaves jenny bills under the emptied glass.

"come, lovely husband. we're to elope and legalize our union!"

illumi follows suit after downing his own glass, "i think there might be another loop hole, if you were to join the family. zoldycks do not kill family."

"so if i were to wed you, here and now, you'd think me more of a family than alluka?"

"alluka is not family."

"are those your words, illumi? or silva's?"

"i..."

"wow, you're really just as fucked up as i am."

"where do you plan to take me? i've just said i cannot kill family."

hisoka chuckles, "then you're the one to take my name, of course."

"preposterous!"

"who the hell still uses that word?"

"i am and will always be a zoldyck-"

"exactly. it's just legal papers, if you kill me then you'll just be a widow and even get your name back! see how everything'll work out in the end?"

"hisoka-"

"are you doubting your skill of assassination, my dearest husband?"

"... i better get the most expensive ring in this damned city."

"that's the spirit! now let's go get married!"

"wait, hisoka. what is your last name?"

later that night, when they leave a chapel, something gold glimmers on hisoka's bungee gum/texture surprise ring finger. a matching one around illumi's finger.

unlike hisoka, though, illumi had an extra red glimmer right under that gold, in the dead center of a silver band of intricately designed pattern. hisoka had foregone the traditional diamond in favor of a 16 carat ruby engagement ring, such a curious choice but illumi accepted it all the same...

(much later on, hisoka took both rings as collateral and reminded illumi that he would get them back even if he died bc it was in their damn prenup- and bc it was technically bought under illumis name and that's how hisoka assured illu that he'd be on that black whale,,, bc he had the rings and planned to give them back to him there)

"I thought a red gemstone was better suited for the rather bloody and murderous ending that our relationship will inevitably come to, wouldn't you agree?"

-Hisoka Morow whenever someone mentions his preference of proposal ring...

"I disagree with most of his ideals, our relationship has always had a fragile foundation, and I knew from the start that we'd eventually end up killing each other."

-Illumi Morow, nee Zoldyck when asked about his thoughts on his husband...

#prenup #engagement ring #hunter x hunter #hxh #headcanon #imagine #hunter x hunter 2011 #hisoillu #hisoka #hisoka morrow #hisoka morow #illumi #illumi zoldyck #hisoka x illumi #chat?? #conversation #marriage proposal #incorrect texts #hisoka wanted illumi to kill him to make things more interesting #how i think the conversation went #hisoka and illumis engagement #married hisoillu #my own plot twist #illumi just wants the money #or so he says #hisoka is actually rich tho #how do u think he keeps having a full deck of cards #their engagement ring is a ruby #change my mind #you can't

[fangirl-everythang]

You’re Not Leaving Me J.M

Summary: Y/n wants to leave Jason after he’s neglected her for gang duties. Long story short, she doesn’t. 

Warnings: Aggression, swearing, mentions of gang activities, toxic relationship-ish.

Word Count: A bit less than 1500

Today was the day. I want to leave Jason. We've been together for almost three years now and I can't take it anymore. I love him with all of my heart but he's never home. I'm alone in this relationship and he never notices.

I try to stay up to wait for him to come back from his missions but most nights but he just showers and goes to sleep. I get being The Jason McCann, worlds most wanted is hard, but I feel like I'm in a relationship with a brick wall and it's only hurting me. I know- selfish but it's for the best. He'll probably go back to his playboy days anyways.

Yup could you believe it? Jason used to be with a new girl every night, hell when we met we didn't even like eachother. One thing led to another and here we are,  young and madly in love. Wiping the tear that managed to escape my eye thinking about him. Sitting up because Jason will be home in half an hour give or take,  I can pack now.

I begin tearing the fabric from the hangers reminiscing the good days we had. Going through the drawers looking for my charger I stumble upon a picture of Jase and I. I'll never forget it; It was new year's eve and we were on the roof of Zayn and Lo's place. It was our first year together, we were happy. The photo shows us leaning in almost about to kiss with chaos and fireworks all around us, we did the camera just didn't capture it.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

That's everything.  I set my bags in the kitchen closest to the back door. Awaiting his a rival I just pace a bit while tiding up.

I've been so lonely without him, we barely talk anymore. I'm just there when he needs me. Before he treated me like a princess now I'm equal to his gang members. He's always working late or going out on weekends, I wish I, could, confirm his loyalty busy I have no fucking idea anymore. The ringing of keys at the door distracted me from my previous thoughts.

His face lit up when he saw me "Hey baby" he smiled. It took me by surprise, he hasn't called me baby or in fact any name but the one I was born with in forever. "Hi?" I respond questionly. He just wraps his arms around me and embraced me "I missed you babygirl"

"Are you feeling okay?" I say looking at him. Those eyes, those perfect fucking eyes. The ones that can make my heart flutter with one glance. He looks confused by my question and leans in for a kiss.

If I kiss him I won't want to leave. Christ why does he do this today!

I just doge it by pretending to cough, slowly removing myself from his embrace. "How was your -" "Hold that thought one minute baby I'm just gonna go change really quick I'll be right back"

"But Jase-"

"Right back. " he hurries up the stairs blowing me an air kiss. What the fuck is wrong with him? He suddenly wants to act like a boyfriend that gives a shit.

I waited 20 minutes for Jason to come down stairs, when he didn't I decided to go up. Slowly making my way up what used to be the beautiful steps of our home, I call out his name "Jase?" Reaching the bedroom door I knock but there wasn't a response. Just as I go to open the door it is aggressively pulled open with a not so happy Jason behind it. He's wearing the same clothes. "What happened I thought you were going to change-"

"Shut up" he says lowly.

"What the fuck Jase? "

I'm not scared of him, just his behavior sometimes.

"What the fuck, you tell me y/n," he says with a sinister chuckle. I just look at him confused "So you thought I wouldn't notice your shit missing y/n, what are you trying to do?" I stood there with my arms crossed "Well if you would've let me talk down stairs I would have informed you. "

"INFORM ME ABOUT WHAT Y/N?" He shouts coming closer.

"Jason I can't do this anymore, its, we're not the same" I sigh. He just gets even closer, the vein popping out from the side of his neck. I fidget a bit under his gaze. "So what?  you were just gonna leave? You fucking whore."

"Me a whore, really Jason?! You're unbearable " I yell back my voice straining as I do so. "You're the one who's never home, I don't see you anymore, "

I'm even more frustrated than before, "You know what this isn't worth my time. Good fucking bye Jason" I say turning around but he grabs my arm and yanks me back.

"You're not going anywhere."

"Jase get off of me" I say pulling away from him. His grip just tightens. He harshly pushes me against a wall causing me groan in pain and annoyance, he just looks me dead on the eye. "You're not leaving me. "

I stop fighting back and sigh "Why not? Huh Jase" He doesn't say anything. I just listen to his increased respiration and look at his eyes, they've dilated quite a bit.

"Oh now you wanna be quiet" I say pushing his chest moving past him. "You're pathetic" I spit walking away.

"Y/n wait" he says not turning. Stopping in my tracks I waited for him to continue but after a minute I began descending down the stairs. The memories this place holds will haunt me but I keep reminding myself I need to do this for me. I have too- but he makes me happy or used to at least.

Walking into the living room to pick up my phone, wallet, and keys that are on the table. Leaving Jason is like leaving a piece of me but it's time I make a decision for me, it's gonna hurt but it's for the best. Or at least that's what I keep telling myself.

Walking to the door grabbing my bags and heading out the door loading them into the back of my car. I go back in to make sure I didn't leave anything and Jason is just standing there looking at me. I shift uncomfortably under his gaze but ignore it. "There's food in the fridge and your clothes are done just put them up and u-uhh yeah." He just continues to give me the same blank look. " Jason I don't want us to end on bad terms we can st-" He just looks at me dumbly before I can finish. "Y/n you're really gonna pull that shit on me" I go to speak but he just continued " Three years y/n and you're gonna leave me now. I fucking love you and you're going to leave me. I don't know what to do with myself, I know I'm a shit boyfriend but this is new to me. I need you y/n. My life is not complete without you in it. You're my everything my reason to be here, you make me better in every way." He chokes holding back tears coming closer to me and embracing me , "I'm so sorry baby" he cries into my hair. I just hug him, he needs this. "I know" I coo running my hand through his hair gently letting him calm down. His warm tears flow onto my shirt, I haven't seen Jason break down like this before. He's never cried in front of me. I didn't realize that I was crying until he pulled away to wipe my tears with his thumb. He kisses my forehead and whispers "please don't leave me" I just shake my head "Jase I think th-his will be healthy for us" "Please y/n, I'll try harder , I'll control myself , I'll be better for you. I'll do anything for you y/n" he pleads "I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry"

"Jason, I don't -" he interrupts my sentence by smashing his lips on mine. Grasping the back of his neck pulling him closer to me he moves down my neck leaving a trail of wet kisses until he finds my sweet spot. I'm so weak for him. "J-jason" i halfly moan, He just continues to suck and i know exactly what he's doing.

I just let him continue because he wont stop until he’s ready. Running my hands through his hair as he continues his asult on my neck marking me as his. Once he's done he looks to admire his deep purple and red piece of art lightly tracing it he smiles down at me, cupping my cheek. "You're mine, Okay. no one will ever love you like I love you." He softly presses his lips, to mine.

AN:

Hey guys hope you enjoyed it! I know its short,  they get longer I promise. I'm open to anything but im slow as hell. 

ANyways hope your holidays are well. I really think Jason McCann can be played out in so many ways, I cannot wait for you guys to read.

Xoxox-Janelle

#justin bieber #jason mccann #y/n imagine #writing #jb #justin drew bieber #justin bieber imagines #fanfic