#thinking it might actually work out. realizing it won’t and clinging onto the relationship that will inevitably come crashing down

[apollo-just-ice]

The funniest and saddest thing perhaps is how captivated I have been by Skaði/Njörðr lately…

Yeah. Njörðr from Feh and his… presumably existing wife that isn’t even in Feh in any shape way or form atm.

I mean I’ve taken what can be learnt from Norse mythology and have made her into my own character, basically, but still…

I am working on a fic rn but man. Who is gonna get this except me? It’s crazy. But I am having fun with it soooooo. Hopefully that’ll be enough <3

[merakiui]

Half-Off Love

yandere!scaramouche x (gender neutral) reader art credit - kentasha1236 on twt cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, gold-digging, implied yandere!childe note - thank you so much for 600 followers! o(≧∇≦o) I’ll work hard!

It’s strange. There’s no other adjective to describe the situation you’ve found yourself in. 

The ring slides itself onto your steady finger and it’s a miracle your discomfort doesn’t show. Your eyes struggle to meet his, but when they do you’re searching for a reason—for a meaning behind such a generous gift. You’ve witnessed this scene plenty of times before, having scoffed at the couples who decide to take their relationship to the next level. Whether it be in Mondstadt or Liyue, you’ve watched your fair share of angelic proposals. Although this is far from a proposal—at least, you hope it’s not a proposal. You’d feel powerless to decline if Scaramouche put you in such a position, and you’re almost certain he’s aware of this. 

But the main thing—you now realize—that’s holding him back is your status and his relationship with you. It’s nothing special, just mere physical attraction rather than the emotional hindrances that come with real, heart-racing love. There’s nothing wholesome in the way you regard one another; it’s just sex. 

“Do you like it? I made sure to find only the highest quality gemstone for you.”

And yet when he performs this caring charade, it doesn’t feel like loveless copulation. 

Ew, you think, plastering a smile to your face. Since when was Scaramouche so concerned with materialistic signs of affection? He’s far from loving; he’s just pent-up, frustrated from his rigorous job as a Harbinger and so he decides to use you as a means of coping. He almost sounds like Childe with his ineffective flirting methods. You’ve received your fair share of spoils from him as well, and you’ve done everything you could to cull that relationship before it grew out of hand. But now you’re stuck with the lesser side of the coin: another troublesome Fatui Harbinger. 

If you didn’t know any better, you might think to chase after Signora or Dottore next. Maybe you’ll aim for the Tsaritsa Herself if you’re especially daring. After all, your life has been nothing but deceit and faux pleasures; there’s little value to a liar’s life. If the Archons wish for your swift end, you’re positive it’ll be a result of your insatiable greed.

“It’s lovely. The color matches my eyes.”

It doesn’t, but you lie about it anyways. And he looks pleased to hear your approval. 

“Then perhaps I should get you a bracelet as well? Or would you prefer something with a little more use, such as a pocket watch?”

Why don’t you just lock me up with a collar instead? you think bitterly, already keen on pawning the ring off once the initial luster fades. Since you’re so eager to buy these things for me in hopes that I’ll return. It’s annoying.

“This is more than enough. I don’t want you to spend a fortune on me.” There’s a sweet lilt in your voice as your hand cups his cheek, and he leans into your warm touch, starved of the affection like a stray mutt. ”I only need you per our agreement. You do remember what that is, right?”

He’d be caught dead bending to the desires of someone so insignificant, but he just can’t stay away. Not when your every word is intoxicating poison he’ll readily ingest. 

“I’m aware." There’s a sigh in his tone as he pulls away, almost as if he wants to simply sit there and indulge in playful conversation. As if he actually wants to familiarize himself with the real you. But that emotion doesn’t last for long and an irritated expression crawls onto his handsome face as he silently recalls something. 

You’re slipping your silks off with grace, curiously tracking his movements. “You look upset. Was it because of what I said?”

“Of course not. You could never upset me.”

Until you get bored of me.

When you cast your robes aside, reaching for Scaramouche’s elaborate outfit, you murmur, “Let me guess. It was that traveler again, wasn’t it? I’m not sure why you’re so hung up on them.” A whimper leaks into your voice and you fix him with a pout. “I’m sad you’d think of others when I’m right here. Aren’t I the only one you need?”

It’s ironic how quickly that line hooks him, dragging him up from the murkiest depths of love that has skewed into obsession. When you tried it out on Childe, he wasn’t so easily swayed. You find their differences to be invigorating. If the arrangement with Childe was still ongoing, you might’ve considered a threesome, if only to wring more glittering treasures out of the both of them. Mora and jewelry galore, it all goes towards your stockpiled savings. And it’s times like these when you’re lucky to have avoided economic business with the Fatui. Being free of Fatui debt has its perks, a bright miracle in your dark relationships. That’s one less tether to Scaramouche and one less reason to cling to him after you’ve had enough. 

He smirks at your forced envy, easily pushing you backwards onto the plush mattress once he’s fully undressed. For a brief moment, he pictures your pliant body sprawled across an office desk while he pounds into you from behind, putting on a lewd show for his leering underlings. There’s something arousing about your secret relationship that has strange ideas formulating within his head. He entertains a simple scheme, one in which he’d shed light on your connection; however, the other side of him wants to keep your existence for himself, where no one will disturb the two of you in your pleasurable endeavors.

Perhaps you would truly belong to him if he were to expose you for the fraud you really are. Oh, the joy of trapping an unsuspecting rat in a corner, with no way out but into his open arms. You’ll hardly have any semblance of a choice, but he knows you’ll choose the option that guarantees another chance at life.

Scaramouche thinks about that as he revels in soft, tantalizing foreplay. He knows you aren’t as dedicated to this relationship as he is and he’s almost certain you’ve got others waiting for you in different parts of Teyvat. He’s just another plaything you’ve picked up for the fun of it. And in these moments where you surrender to his touch, your back arching with avaricious thoughts, you seem to forget about the power he truly wields. The thought that he could suffocate you in this very bed with his love alone should have you taking precautions to cover your vulnerability, but you only have your eyes set on one thing—not exactly minding the outcome so long as it’s monetarily favorable.

And if playing into your covetous hands ensures your weekly arrival, he’ll gladly empty his pockets of spare change.

You don’t like this new side of him. Lately he’s been treating this as if the two of you are lovers: slow, sensual thrusts accompanied with the sweetest of promises. You’ve never really minded the filth he’d moan in your ear and now you wish he’d resort to that instead. Loveless words spoken through the veil of lust—that’s what you want to hear.  

He envelops you like a smothering fog, fitting himself snugly inside of your tight hole in an embrace that’s oh so familiar. You aren’t used to such gentle treatment and as he kisses along your collarbone you feel yourself going under, having fallen victim to a Harbinger who is normally so cold-hearted. Perhaps he’s more sensitive than you originally thought. Months ago, you wouldn’t have imagined your relationship would grow into something so uncertain, where emotionless love becomes packaged and bogged down with so much feeling.

His lips ghost over yours and there’s a slight pause in his actions. You turn your head to the side, denying his choking affection before it can drag you further into a spiraling abyss of regret. Annoyance swells in his hazy gaze, but he uses your new position to his advantage.

“It’s cute,” he says in a hushed voice, breath tickling your ear, “how you seem to rid yourself of my gifts as soon as they fall into your hands. I wonder where they’ve gone. Into the harbor? Traded off for food and shelter? Do tell me.”

When his grip on your hip tightens to a threatening degree, you resign yourself, opting to hold your tongue as his pace remains brutally slow. Rather than speaking out of line, you raise your hand to his face, and he clasps your wrist in a forceful hold. 

The look in his eyes is far from loving—it’s that same obsessed expression Childe wore. And even if he still searches for you for reasons other than sex, you’re aware there’s no luck where Scaramouche is concerned. You can run from Childe because he’ll allow it—because he adores the chase—but Scaramouche hardly finds delight in a game of cat and mouse. You should’ve expected this. After all, he is just as conniving as the rest, always inventing new ways to track down and eradicate that peculiar traveler. Of course he would know about how you handle his presents when he isn’t looking because there’s no denying the stern gazes that would pierce through your backside whenever you went to the market.

"I’d never throw them out like that...” you mumble through another soft moan, hoping he’ll just pick up the pace and be done with you. “Your gifts are priceless.”

And yet the price for your own love is so hefty. If he weren’t Fatui, it might be enough to throw him into lifelong debt.

“Is that so? You seem to put a price on them whenever you visit the marketplace.” His fingers grip your chin, forcing you into an inescapable eye contact. “If you enjoy putting prices on items that you claim are priceless, you won’t mind if I collect a refund for your dishonesty.”

“A...refund?” 

Your lustful thoughts evaporate once you realize his pace has become horribly slow, his dick stilling and creating an itch of barely noticeable ecstasy. You wiggle your hips to increase the friction, wanting to get yourself off before his words can sour the mood. Though it’s already spoiled when you recognize the carnal victory shining in his twisted smirk. Your unfortunate fate was sealed the moment you welcomed his company with foolish openness, and you’ve been indebted ever since he decided to spoil you with lavish foods and accessories. 

For love that is far from cheap, interest must be paid and your very being makes for the perfect bargain.

It’s weird when he kisses you on your lips rather than on the parts of your body that are normally obscured with delicate cloth. And it’s even weirder when that metaphorical collar binds your throat in a vice. It’s more harrowing than any sort of debt you might’ve garnered and it’s just as inconvenient as his boyish adoration.

Scaramouche doesn’t have to purchase your flimsy, half-off love when it’s already prepackaged and ready for the taking. 

“You heard me. A refund is hardly enough punishment for a lying brat, but it will have to suffice for now.”

For now.

Spurred on by his own insinuating threats, he seeks to bruise your very insides with thrusts that are filled with physical vexation rather than the emotional ministrations from before. And since you’re so accustomed to him, your greedy hole eagerly welcomes him. 

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 8)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 3k

warnings: smut (semi-public sex), possessiveness (some sexual, some not), jealousy, some fluff and some angst, also some violence (including a very small amount against the reader, proceed with caution), mentions of infidelity in a previous relationship

a/n: oh y’all thought it was gonna be smooth sailing from here on out? lol

You didn’t want to abandon Bucky to do carpetside interviews, but he refused to get anywhere near a hot mic so you let him go while you walked over to a reporter you recognized; she’d been nice before, probably would be again this time, so you were a little relieved to see her tonight.

She introduced you to the camera and you were slightly spaced out until she turned to you and got your attention again.  “So, you’ve been making a lot of headlines lately for your new relationship— what’s the scoop?  How’s it going?” she asked playfully, pushing the microphone into your face.

“Uh, great,” you breamed, “he’s my date tonight and he seems to have disappeared to…” you turned around to look for him.  “Oh, he’s talking to... is that... Laurence Fishburne?”

“James, is that his name?” she prompted, making you focus your attention back on the interview.

“Um, yeah,” you nodded, the name sounding a bit foreign, “legally, but he goes mostly by his nickname Bucky.”

“Aw, that’s cute,” she smiled.  “He’s, uh…” her eyes widened a bit and you laughed.

“Yeah, he is,” you smirked.  “I assume by that facial expression you mean ‘crazy hot.’”

“I mean, in the politest way possible… yeah,” she giggled.

“Yeah, no, don’t pretend not to notice for my sake, cause, yeah, it’s… apparent.”

“Apparently he was your driver first?” she pressed.

“Yes!” you beamed, and then heard the way it sounded and backpedaled slightly.  “I promise that’s not why I hired him.  I actually didn’t meet him before he was on my team, but, I mean, I wasn’t mad to have some eye candy in the front seat.”

“Eye candy, huh?”

“But he’s so much more than that, that’s the thing,” you explained.  “We became good friends first, because he’s so smart and funny and kind and… I mean, I know he looks tough, and he is, but he’s really very sensitive underneath the slightly intimidating exterior.”

“Hard shell, soft center, sweet— he really does sound like candy!”

“Indeed,” you nodded.  “Gotta run but it was nice to chat!”

You dashed over to Bucky and clung onto his arm.  “Oh, hey, we were just talking about you,” he beamed.

“Loved you in After Midnight,” Mr. Fishburne smiled and even you were totally starstruck.

“Oh, wow, thanks, I loved you in… everything…” you trailed off, internally scolding yourself for the vague and useless compliment.  He was about to respond but was pulled away by some member of his team, giving you and Bucky a quick wave as he began a carpet-side interview.

“That was Laurence Fishburne, wasn’t it.” Bucky mumbled to you in a stunned monotone.  

“Yes, what were you doing talking to him?” you asked, amazed at his bravery to approach such a huge star.

“He came up to me, to congratulate me on… on dating you, I guess…”

“Or he mixed you up with Brad Pitt,” you shrugged.

“Yeah, if Brad Pitt lost all his money, spent a decade in the desert, went loco and buzzed all his hair off,” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Oh come on, you look great,” you soothed him, straightening his tie.  “Wanna go take some pictures?”

“I’m a little scared,” he admitted with a shy smile.

“It’s easy, just give them that sexy brooding look you do so well.”

Bucky smirked pridefully.  “You think so?”

“Totally.  You’re a natural,” you assured.

You tugged his arm and guided him to the carpet, letting him lead the way (or look like he was leading the way) as you found a clear spot and noticed how the cameras instantly flashed faster and brighter.  Photographers called your name to get your attention, and you waved and smiled and pulled Bucky closer.  The feeling of his arm around your waist was warm and comforting, and you hoped holding you had the same effect for him.

“Where are you looking?” you asked.

“At you,” he answered.

“Bucky,” you giggled, “you’re supposed to look at the cameras!”

“I honestly can’t, it’s blinding,” he frowned.

“Here,” you sighed, pointing out into the darkness just above the sea of flashing lights.  “Look out there.”

“I can’t see anything!”

“I know, but, look as if there was something there to look at, trust me, it helps.”

You adjusted slightly a few times, turning a little to show off the low back of your dress.  You almost gasped when Bucky held your face and kissed you suddenly, but you were happy to melt into it even as you heard the cameras flash even more aggressively, some whoops and hollers coming from the crowd on and off the carpet.

He pulled back and you wanted to chase him for more but you realized it wasn’t the right time.  

“Let’s go inside,” you offered, guiding him the rest of the way down the carpet— mainly because you were afraid you’d end up jumping his bones right here in front of everyone.

He nodded and followed close by, arm resting on your shoulder the whole time, and just as you saw one of your friends and thought you might want to go over and introduce her to Bucky, you saw who she was talking to.

Sam.  

Seeing him always made your heart stop.  At first, it was because you were starstruck by him, in awe of his talent, amazed that you were going to be working with someone you admired so much.  Then it was because you had fallen for him and he had gladly swept you off your feet, bringing you into a whirlwind romance that at the time had felt like the only thing that mattered.  But since the break-up, and now, it was something else.  Fear wasn’t the word, it’s not like you were afraid of him in a literal sense, but there was this anxiety, this tenseness to seeing him.  It always brought back memories— the best and the worst, all at once.  Nights laughing together, sharing secrets, stealing glances and touches and kisses; nights spent alone staring at a phone that never rang.  Limbs tangled together between the sheets, that warm brown skin encompassing and surrounding yours; laying side by side in a bed that isn’t empty but is still plenty cold, seeing the way he angles his phone away from you and wishing you had the strength to just leave because you already knew what he was doing.  The first time you said ‘I love you.’  The first time he said ‘it won’t happen again.’

“You alright?” Bucky asked, tearing you from your thoughts.  You looked away and met Bucky’s gaze, hoping he either hadn’t seen your ex or at least hadn’t recognized him.  

“Yeah, I’m great,” you answered quickly, “let’s go get some drinks maybe?  And then I need to show you off to some people.”

“Show me off?” he scoffed.

“Yeah, why did you think I brought you here, really?” you winked.

“Hey, if we’re showing each other off, does that mean you’ll come to my next high school reunion?”

//

You’d been antsy ever since the two of you had come inside; it was obvious from the way you were clinging so much closer to him, and yet it was clear that your mind was a million miles away.

“Hey, it’s starting to wrap up, wanna head out soon?” you asked, trying to act casual, but he saw the way your eyes were darting up to where Sam Wilson was mingling and he knew it wasn’t about getting home early.  Did you really think he wouldn’t notice that you’d seen him?

“Whatever you wanna do,” he shrugged.

“Okay, could you bring the car around for me then?  And I’ll meet you outside?” you offered.  “I should say hi and bye to a few people.”

“Sure,” he agreed, starting to walk away after giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

And he really did try to do what he said he was going to, but the further away he walked, the more he glanced back to watch you walk across the room, the harder it was to just let it go.  He knew you were going to talk to him, and before he really even decided to do anything about it he found himself circling back around the room, following you.  

He thought he’d lost you when he turned a corner and you were gone, but then he heard voices from a doorway and cracked it open slightly to see you inside with a few other people, nobody he recognized although one of them he’d definitely seen in something before.

He sighed with relief, about to turn and go get the car like he said he would, but then Sam Wilson just had to magically materialize out of thin air as he stepped up behind you and tapped your shoulder.

“Sam!” you blurted out, spinning to face him with wide eyes.

“Hey,” he greeted, acting all suave and shit, making Bucky’s blood boil.  “You look great.”

“Oh, thanks,” you mumbled, “you too.”

“You’ve been all over the internet lately, making quite the splash,” he recalled with a contemplative nod.  “You and this new boytoy you’ve got.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is boyfriend,” you corrected sternly.  

“Honey,” he scoffed as he rolled his eyes.  Bucky couldn’t decide if it was worse to hear him call you a pet name in earnest or with the derogatory tone that he currently had.  “Everybody knows you go through these guys like potato chips.  Especially when they’re not famous— how many PAs did you hook up with on your last set, huh?”

“I don’t roll like that anymore,” you denied.

“That’s not what Jake Friedman says,” Sam smirked.  It actually took Bucky a moment to remember that that was the guy you’d… entertained in the backseat of your car, or maybe it was more that he had entertained you; you seemed to tense up when Sam mentioned him, as did Bucky.  “I mean, sure, he’s not crew, but he’s not famous the way you are.  The way we are.  And neither is your new guy.  He doesn’t ‘get it’, does he?  He doesn’t get what it’s like.  Has he already started freaking out about all the hate online?”

Bucky regretted that he’d ever said anything about that; if he’d known it would come around to prove Sam Wilson right about something, he wouldn’t have done it.  “No,” you lied.

“Well, he will,” Sam assured you, stepping a little closer to you and letting his fingers languidly brush over your arm.  “I made a mistake before, letting you go.”

“Damn right,” you hissed as you pulled away from him.

“But I realized that, and now I’m wondering why we aren’t giving the people what they want.”

“That’s what I never understood about you,” you frowned.  “It’s always about other people with you.  It’s never about you, and it was never about me.”

“But it is about you,” he explained, “and me: us.  You’re forgetting how good we were together.”

You shook your head.  “I was single for years and you never called.  Now you’re all over me with all these regrets about ending it?  Get a grip, Sam.  This is about you wanting what you can’t have.”

“Can’t have?” he repeated incredulously.  “Baby,” he purred— and Bucky decided it was definitely worse to hear him call you that in earnest.  “You know you’re always gonna be mine.”

As you started to shiver, Sam’s arms slipping around your back and grabbing your waist, Bucky felt like he had lost control of his body.  He was watching himself from far away as he stormed across the room, nearly knocking a few people over on the way, and shoved Sam off of you and onto the ground.

“Bucky!” you yelped.  “Bucky, stop!”

“You’d better watch your hands, Wilson, before they get somewhere they’re not supposed to be,” Bucky growled, ignoring you completely even as you helplessly tugged at his suit.  

“Jesus,” Sam spat, “the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What are you doing?” you asked Bucky, irate and confused as you stared up at him with a furrowed brow.  He grabbed your hand and guided you out of the room and down the hall, barely managing to drag you into a random bathroom before he started tearing at your dress, leaving rough bites and kisses down your neck as you gasped and moaned softly.  

“Mine,” he mumbled against your skin, “all mine.  Did you forget?”

“No,” you sighed, “I could never…”

“That’s not what it looked like,” he sneered, hiking up your long skirt to run his fingers over your skin and expose the delicate, lacy panties you were wearing. 

“Bucky, please,” you sighed, rubbing your hips up against his leg, riding his thigh shamelessly.

“What’s got you so worked up, baby?  Is it me, or him?” he asked darkly.

“You, baby, just you, nobody else— I’m yours,” you assured him feverishly, “I’m all yours, please, I need you.”

“Yeah?” he breathed, fumbling with his belt and fly as he pulled his growing cock from his suit pants.  “You need it that bad?”

“Please,” you sobbed, “fuck me.”

He pulled your underwear aside and quickly shoved into you, groaning at the feeling of your walls stretching to welcome him.  “Fuck, angel, so tight,” he sighed, knowing how much little praises drove you crazy.

“Bucky,” you sighed, “oh my god… harder, please— n-need you deeper…”

His hips moved back only to slam back against yours, making you whimper; he smiled when he felt your leg wrap around his waist and try to hold him inside, but he couldn’t slow down now, not when he needed this so bad.

He sucked on your neck as he kept thrusting into you, your wetness coating his cock so thoroughly that he slid right home every time.  It was clear that he was hitting your g-spot from how you moaned with each thrust, your spongy channel pulsing and tightening in rhythmic patterns.

Overcome with the need to assert his, for lack of a better word, ownership over you, he found himself reaching up to hold your throat— not quite in the way to choke you, just to remind you that he could, if he wanted to.

“Did he ever make you come like this?” he asked with a gravelly whisper, lips right against your ear as he tightened his hand around your neck slightly.

“No,” you shook your head, “nobody has.”

“Nobody’s ever loved you this good but me, is that it?  Nobody else has ever fucked you like this?”

“Just you, Bucky, please don’t stop— I’m so close…”

“Do you think they can hear you out in the hallway?  Say my name when you come, princess, just in case they can— I want them to know who’s making you feel this good.”

“Bucky,” you whined, chanting it over and over with a few ‘yes’s and ‘fuck’s interspersed occasionally.  He thrusted faster and harder as he felt his own orgasm building; he needed to come inside you and claim you again, mark you as his one more time, and the flexing of your walls was only egging him on.

“I know you’re close, baby, just let go,” he whispered against your ear, “come for me, just like that, you’re doing so good— fuck, so good for me…”

You whimpered and clutched at his shoulders, a gush of wetness and a final, strong tightening of your inner muscles signaling that you’d reached your peak.  He couldn’t hold back any longer when he saw (and felt) that, groaning as he began to release thick streams of come into you.

The absolute second your afterglow began to fade, you pushed him off of you and grimaced as you adjusted your panties and dress.  "The fuck is wrong with you?"

"Wh— what?" he stammered, breathless and confused.  "What did I do?  Was I not supposed to come inside?"

You gaped at him in shock.  "Do you really not realize what you did?  Bucky, you assaulted my ex-boyfriend."

"I— he'll be fine," he dismissed, "he was putting his hands on you, what was I supposed to do, just let him do it?"

"You were supposed to let me handle it," you hissed.  "You were supposed to be pulling the car around and not spying on me!"

"Spying?!  I was protecting you."

"You shoved him hard enough to knock him over, Bucky, that's not okay."

"Hold on," he shook his head in disbelief, "so you're mad at me, when we just had sex?!  Why didn't you say something before?"

"Just cause it's hot doesn't mean it's okay," you explained, a little embarrassed.

"Tell me something," he frowned, "what is this—" he motioned to the space between the two of you— "to you?  Cause it kinda seems like I think we're boyfriend and girlfriend, and you think—"

"What?  What do I think?" you challenged.  "Go ahead, tell me."

"You think it's just a sex thing."

"Oh my god," you rolled your eyes.

"Well, what am I supposed to think when you get off on me dealing with your ex, and then tell me it's this big terrible thing?"

A sick idea clawed its way out of the back of Bucky's mind: was Sam right about her?  Was Sam right about us?

You crossed your arms and huffed, but didn't respond.

"Was everything that just happened just a fuckin' kink for you or something?  Cause I meant every goddamn word," he growled.

You sighed, like you weren't taking it seriously— like you weren't taking him seriously.  His fist tightened at his side involuntarily.  He'd never felt so used, so ignored; or, at least, he never expected it from you.  "We'll talk about this later," you dismissed quickly.  "Let's just go back there and put on a happy face, okay?"

"Oh, so you can let another guy feel you up?  Sounds like a fucking blast," he hissed.

"Fuck you," you snarled as you pushed him aside to leave the bathroom.

He didn't remember grabbing you, he didn't remember twisting your arm as he pulled you back.  He didn't remember you crying out, trying to wrench yourself away, clawing at his grip on you.  All he remembered was you looking up at him with watery eyes, expression twisted in fear.

"Bucky, you're hurting me," you whimpered weakly, and only then did he notice his metal hand was holding your wrist.  When he let go, he already saw a mark forming in the shape of his hand as you grabbed your freed wrist to rub the damaged flesh.

"I'm sorry—" he began to whisper, but you were already gone.

[duskamethyst]

covet.

a/n: a remake so some might have read this but i switched up a bit because i wasn't particularly happy with it.

word count: 2.2k

genre: mature, nsfw

warning tags: implied noncon at the end, stalking, yandere behavior

pairing: yan!iwaizumi x f!reader

summary: you find out that you are your best friend's obsession.

iwaizumi has always been a good friend to you; more like a doting brother that’s always looking out for you, cheering you up as he listens to you cry over the phone over a bad and sudden break up or helps you when you need a hand– whether it’s from studying or changing the light bulb and he never expects anything in return. he’s amazing and it’s rather strange that he never had someone special as long as you’ve known him.

you’ve asked him about his love life plenty of times before but he often finds a way to avoid the topic. though it’s unusual, you only think that he probably has a shy side to him despite how tense he usually looks. you couldn’t find anything wrong with him that could drive others away– from his looks to how he treats people around him. and honestly? he is too good to be true.

but when something seems too good to be true, chances are, it really is.

you know iwaizumi more than anyone else– with oikawa as an exception. you cling onto each other almost every day and you often go out together to finish up an assignment. your friends are always poking fun at you about liking iwaizumi whenever you’re with him but you’re always quick to get defensive, afraid of making him feel awkward and also because it isn’t true– you don’t really feel that way about him.

he’s aware that they’re just teasing but he couldn’t help the blush creeping up on his cheeks each time he hears the untasteful joke and his heart breaks over how you get quite uptight about it because boy, he actually feels happy at the thought of you having feelings for him.

as much as you think you know the guy, to iwaizumi, you don’t actually know him.

you don’t know how he feels about you, but he understands that. it’s his fault for not confessing to you directly but he also wants to protect the relationship you both currently have. iwaizumi doesn’t want to ruin it. he doesn’t want the probability of losing you when he knows he’s nothing more to you than just a friend. you don’t know that you’re the only person that fills his mind day and night, jerking off to the image of you before going to sleep. and you don’t know how he spends so many hours at the gym, letting out his anger and frustration to the punching bag when you tell him that you’re seeing someone.

iwaizumi is mindful of the fact that he won’t ever get to be your boyfriend; let alone the one to spend the rest of your lives together and it pains him for having someone so close but couldn’t quite reach for.

little that he realizes, he begins to have an unhealthy obsession over you.

he usually pretends to find interest in your relationships and hookups just so he can use it to his advantage just so that in a couple of months, you will run back into his arms and talk about how sad you are over it and blame yourself about how you aren’t good enough to anyone.

he feels bad when he sees your sorry state. it hurts him more than it hurts you but he keeps reminding himself that even though he is the cause of your breakup, it’s for your own good. of course he can’t say that out loud, he’ll just coax you with sweet words, things you want to hear like how you deserve someone so much better. he will tell you that you should look closer, find that person who has went through thick and thin with you but god– it’s a shame that you’re just so blind.

iwaizumi begins to stalk you at night. using an excuse to ‘watch over you’ when he only wants to see you at your most vulnerable state which he believes to be the ‘real’ you, unraveled. he wants to see how you are when you’re alone and unmindful of the presence of others, including him.

your schedule for your night activities differs each night so he finds himself lucky when he’s just in time to see you strip off your clothes piece by piece until you have nothing on before hopping into the shower. a loud gulp downs his throat when he watches you turn to the full length mirror, bare and perfect ass conveniently facing the window when you observe your figure from the side– probably to see the progress from that work out he has been telling you about.

his jaw clenches at how careless and oblivious you are of your surroundings (but can he really blame you, though?) but it gives him all the more reason to stick close to you so he can protect you. he can already feel his cock throbbing inside his pants and if it’s not for the fact that you don’t know that he’s stalking you, he’d say that you’re purposely teasing him. iwaizumi quickly fishes for his phone and takes the opportunity to take a picture of you.

he can’t help to imagine how you smell like after a nice, long shower. that mere thought alone makes blood rush to his dick. a whiff of you from each time you’re sitting next to him is never enough. he already memorizes your nightly routines; you skip two days to wash your hair, you have a separate towel to wrap your wet hair and the steps of your skin care routine and then you will proceed to turn on the music as you do your assignment on your desk.

that reminds him that he has better things to do too, but he can’t and won’t walk away until he makes sure that you’re asleep peacefully in your room. he wants to make sure that you’re not inviting some guy to your place because who knows who you’ve been texting when you’re not next to him? he still trusts you though, there’s no way you’ll keep it a secret from him. even if you won’t tell him, it’s not like he can’t go through your phone when you leave for the bathroom, and it’s not like you’ll notice the extra face ID in your phone’s settings.

it’s just a precautionary measure, he thinks.

but iwaizumi’s favorite part from his immoral activity is when you’re laying down on your bed, legs spreading as one of your hands disappear between your thighs and lips parting in inaudible whines. the look of your fucked out face as you cum makes his own body flush with primal heat.

if only you’d ask, he’d be more than glad to help you with your sexual needs. he’d give you the best fuck of your life until your little hole can only remember the shape of his fat cock; not anyone nor anything else would make you feel stuffed full and satiated. he often wonders how sweet you’d taste and how nice the sound you’d make when you moan his name.

oh how he wishes that you’re getting off to the thought of him. a guy can only dream.

“iwa, i’m in front of your house!” you say through your phone while pressing his doorbell at the same time. the door opens to a half-asleep iwaizumi, a phone in his hand and another rubs his eyes before inviting you inside.

“were you asleep? jeez, you look bad. did you stay up or something?” you whine, putting your bag down on the couch.

“hah, you could say that,” he snickers. “but you’re early.”

“why not? i bought breakfast too. let’s eat!” you chime as you walk to the kitchen and start to take out the food from the container and place it on the plates.

“sure, i’ll wash up and brush my teeth. hold on.” he mindlessly puts down his phone on the counter and strides to the bathroom.

after setting up the table, you sit down and play with your phone as you wait for him to come out. his phone suddenly vibrates and you glance to see that his mom is calling. you hate to pry but you innocently think that it may be urgent so you run to his room to where the bathroom he’s in.

you can hear the running water through the door, thinking that he would still be inside the bathroom. “sorry, you have a call from your mom so i’m coming in!”

though you’ve been to iwaizumi’s house plenty of times, you’ve never gone inside his room to study or finish up a project and he’d always keep the doors closed while you both do work in the living room. you were never really curious anyway, nothing would be interesting coming from a guy in his 20s. you’re willing to bet that it would just be a messy bed and clothes laying around on the floor.

but you’re dead wrong.

your heart almost drops to the floor as your eyes are greeted with a pair of your own from across the room. it’s placed nicely as if it serves to greet anyone that opens the door to the room. it’s one of your selfies that you posted on instagram from some time ago and it is one of the biggest pictures on the wall so there is no denying that it doesn’t immediately catch your nor anyone’s attention.

he has other pictures posted neatly on the wall, next to where he lays his head on the bed and the biggest one is in the center while the smaller ones surround it, built like a shrine that’s usually made by an obsessive fan for their idols.

as you walk closer, you realize that they are all pictures of you taken when you were idle and your stomach churns when you notice that they are all taken while you’re in your own solitude. it has one of your many expressions, from how happy you looked as you sing to how your face displayed lewd expressions when you were enjoying yourself during your sinful moment.

your breathing starts jagging and the voice inside your head tells you to run. and as you turn your heels around and reach for the exit, a pair of hands suddenly close the door shut in front of you– instantly having you pinned between the door and the tall figure towering from behind you.

the room falls silent for a second, you can hear your own heart pounding in your ears. you quickly try to collect yourself, though not daring to turn and look at him as you speak.

“h-here... your m-mom called.” you extend your arm back so iwaizumi can take the phone from your hand. “i... um... have to go.” you gulp, “i left… my stove on.”

classic, nice going. who even uses that excuse anymore? he’ll never fall for that.

you can feel the hair behind your neck start to prickle when he chuckles from your back. he’s so close, you can feel his breath when he speaks and how his voice echoes throughout the silent room.

“you didn’t even cook this morning.”

“j-just let me go, iwa.” at this point, iwaizumi notices you begin to lose your composure as you try to pull the door open but to no avail as he pushes his arms harder to keep the door closed. damn him and his strong arms.

“i’ll have to thank my mom later for bringing you here.” he laughs, wrapping his arms around your smaller figure and easily lifts you up to his bed before proceeding to trap you underneath his muscular body and grabbing a pair of metal cuffs from the drawer next to his bed.

it’s almost like he has been planning this all along.

“iwa, please– you don’t want to do this.” tears are forming in your eyes as you feel the cold metal graze your skin and hear the locking sound from above your head to restrain your hands from fighting back, as if you would have succeeded in the first place anyway.

“why not?” his grin is maniacal as he watches you wriggle helplessly underneath him. “when i can have you all for myself now? baby, this is all i’ve ever wanted.”

“you– you’re scaring me.” the metal rattles against the headboard as you struggle to free your hands, but of course, to no avail. iwaizumi’s eyes bore through your panic stricken face; your eyes are glazed and he can make up the reflection of himself in them. he feels rather accomplished– he’s finally everything and the only one that you see.

“iwa..” fat tears start to roll down your cheeks as you sob helplessly. iwaizumi seems to be startled a bit, then his face softens.

“how are you so beautiful,” he leans down to kiss both corners of your eyes. “even when you’re crying like this?”

you thrash your head side to side in a sign of protest but he gently cups your face in his large hands so you can look back at the pair of dark eyes that are filled with longing and desperation for you.

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry for making you cry.” he kisses your forehead. “i don’t wanna be like those guys.” he kisses your nose before letting you go and draws himself back to be on his knees.

what once your comfort has quickly become a nightmare. his height and taut physique has never been deemed to be daunting until now; when he’s propped between your legs while his hand reaches down to caress your soft thigh and up to undo the zip of your skirt.

“please, let me make up for it– make you feel better. i promise i can.”

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[redsshanks]

hey can i request a scenario/fic where jean falls in love with a marleyan medic

I don’t know if this is exactly what you wanted but I really hope you enjoy it. I actually love this one and I hope you guys do too!

warnings: general season 4 spoilers, heavy petting. 

wordcount: 1423

You could hear the head doctor talking to Hange from where you were in the tent. You’d managed to remember the names of most of the survey corps in your time being here. They were the ones you had the most interactions with. The people with the Roses you sometimes saw and the ones with the unicorns you only ever saw when something was going wrong. Even then they didn’t really have anything to do with you, you were just a base level medic. What they wanted was information from Dr. Morgan. 

When you signed up for the mission to Paradis you weren’t expecting much, it was supposed to be a simple scouting mission to check things out. The only thing you were really supposed to have to do was deal with scrapes, seasickness, and other minor injuries. Eren Yeager and his attack titan had changed all of that and you were taken captive. Your only solace in this situation was that you were with your best friend Niccolo. The two of you at least had each other during this nightmare. 

Overtime things changed slowly. You weren’t always a prisoner, you were captive but not a prisoner. The fear was still there, being among these Eldian’s that hated you for every move you made wasn’t the ideal situation but you’d managed to make at least tentative friends with some people. It wasn’t perfect and you wanted to be home more than anything. But there was one thing that pulled your heart and made you want to stay here. Something you’d never had before. 

It was hard for you to accept that you’d developed feelings for an Eldian. You hated yourself for it at first, you’d lay there listening to everyone else talk about how awful the devils were and how you would all be lucky to make it alive. The words they said made your skin crawl, especially when you realized how you were feeling for one of them. You couldn’t imagine how the others would react to hearing that you did have feelings for one. 

When someone cleared your voice behind you, you winced, you could get in trouble for listening in like this if the wrong person had caught you. You stood straight, ready to defend yourself when the person spoke. “You know eavesdropping is a bad habit.” Jean.

Spinning around quickly you slapped the man in question in the chest. “You scared me!” You hissed looking over your shoulder where the other Eldian officers were talking with Dr Morgan. “I thought I was going to get in so much trouble!” 

Jean Kirstein was the most infuriating man you’d ever met. An Eldian, a soldier, a commanding officer and the only man you’d ever been in love with. Realizing you had a crush on him was bad enough, accepting that and falling in love with him was even scarier. You didn’t know if there was a chance for a future with him, in Marley you’d be killed for it, for doing anything with him you’d be killed. Here? You didn’t know what would happen, if they would allow it to happen here. 

“I’d have covered for you.” He sounded so sincere about it that you did believe him, “Hange is talking to your boss anyway, there wouldn’t be any reason for you to get in trouble.” That didn’t mean someone couldn’t find a reason. You knew how some of the Eldian’s looked at you and it made you sick to your stomach. 

Nodding a little you let out a small sigh, “You say that but I’ve been in trouble for less.” your hand fidgeted at your side and you ached to reach out and grab him but you couldn’t. Not here in front of everyone. You both knew better than that, not until things were better figured out. Maybe one day you’d be able to do that, love him the way you did openly. 

You’d not even told him that you loved him, you couldn’t say it, the fear of reality pushing the two of you apart was too much. Inside you knew he felt the same, you felt it in everything he did but he didn’t say it either. Holding onto this however you had to was important. Things could go badly any second, in the end you were literally a captive of Paradis and you knew that. Unless something changed you didn’t know what more you and Jean could be. So you’d cling to this.

“Come on. I have to show you something.” You looked around for a second to make sure no one else was around before you followed behind him. If someone was watching the two of you they’d probably follow and you doubted Jean wanted that. By now he’d know to make sure that no one was watching the two of you. “I have a few questions to ask you. So if you’ll just come with me.” His voice was loud, anyone who might have seen the two of you together wouldn’t have had anything to say about your interaction anymore. 

Biting back your smile you trailed behind him, you were always a little impressed by his ‘commander’voice. He was a powerful man here in Paradis and it was a little exciting when you really thought about it. A powerful commander in a foreign military falling for a captured doctor of a hostile nation. It was what those cheesy romance novels back home were about. Only this was your real life and the danger wasn’t just your relationship being found out but your actual life. You’d never tell Jean how it effected you but you had a feeling he knew.

When you entered the office room you let out a small yelp when you felt hands on your hips, “Jean!” He spun you round to face him, “This was what you wanted to show me?” Biting the inside of your lip you looked him over, “If so I think I’ve seen it.” 

The man in front of you laughed, his lips grazing over your jawline. “Are you telling me you’re tired of seeing it?” Your hands moved up his chest when he pulled you in closer, a moan falling from your lips when he nipped at your neck, the sting sending waves down your spine. “Yeah I didn’t think so.”

You wanted to be angry about how cocky he was, refuse him or make him work for you more. The limited time you had alone with him didn’t give you much time to tease him or even make him work too hard. “You’re an asshole Kirstein.” the smile on your lips and the way your hands held onto the front of his shirt made it clear that, that wasn’t how you really felt. 

When your back hit the door you gasped, his knee finding its way between your legs, pressing against you. You hated that these were the only moments you had with him but you’d take him however you could have him. “You love it.” His hands moved up your body. “I can feel you.” He smirked against your jaw as he moved his knee against you, “Pulsing.” 

“Fuck.” You sucked in a sharp breath, he loved teasing you and if you had the time you’d love it, you’d let him take you apart. Time wasn’t a luxury you had, “Just fuck me already Jean.” 

You grabbed his face kissing him, his tongue brushed against your lips but as soon as you tried to open your mouth there was a bang on he door. “Jean.” You knew that voice. It was one of his friends, Connie you guessed. “We got called away sooner than I thought you have to wrap up.” 

Jean’s hands were tight on your hips as he let his leg fall. Your head was rested on his chest, you knew this was too good to be true. Time like this in the middle of the day was too much to ask for. “Jean.” you let out a sigh, “You’ll get in trouble.”

Nodding a little he moved his hands to your face, pressing a hard kiss to your lips. “It won’t always be like this. I promise.” Resting your hand on top of his you smiled a little, “I’ll try to see you tomorrow. Make sure you leave the room a few minutes after I do.”

Running your hand down your face you watched him leave. You knew he couldn’t promise that but you would believe him as long as you could.

taglist: @x6nji, @pockou, @bertlebear, @colossalnova, @joyness99, @sparklypaintertyphoon, @smoochiesdiarie​, @sashaisangel, @dufresnes, @hexbestfriend, ​ (if you want added let me know! also i added a few people who’ve just kinda seemed interested? if you’re not and you’re here i’m sorry!

[animeyanderelover]

Let’s continue with my favorite Arc from all I watched so far. The Yorknew City Arc!!I sadly couldn’t do it with all of the Phantom Troupe members because I had with some huge problems, either because I didn’t know them well enough yet or I simply don’t know how to imagine them as Yanderes😕.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, paranoia, delusions, manipulation, sabotage, sadism, mind breaking, gaslighting, kidnapping, killing

Yorknew City Arc Hc’s

Chrollo Lucilfer

📖Somehow I can imagine Chrollo as a similar bad Yandere as Kurapika. He’s obsessive, possessive and manipulative. He has probably 0.003% emotions and that’s the really bad part on this. If you give someone like him, who never experienced much emotions, a person who manages to make him feel something you can bet that he’ll never let this person go. It’s almost too easy for him to find anything out about his s/o, they’re like an open book to him which he can read over and over again and still doesn’t get boring of them. He’s incredibly charming to the darling and will feed them daily with his sweet lies, trapping them slowly and ensuring that they can’t escape him. Also the aware type, he hasn’t much experience with feelings, but he knows for sure that they aren’t supposed to be this strong and he doesn’t care in the least bit.

📖Also the removal and isolating type plus the really lovestruck one. He wants to be the only one in his s/o’s life, the only one who owns their heart and he isn’t planning on being only one of many in his darling’s heart. And if he has to kill every person his darling cherishes and isolate his darling from every human contact to reach his goal then he’ll do it without a single regret. This guy sees in his darling everything he always wished for when he was younger and they’re the only ones who hold the key to his emotions. That makes him a clingy one as well, he only leaves his darling if absolutely necessary and makes sure that at least two of the other members watch over the s/o.

����His possessiveness comes to a similar bad level as Kurapika’s so I would give you the advice to not even think about someone else because this guy will find out. Even though he’ll never show his jealousy the s/o can sense it because there’s this barely audible dangerous undertone in his voice that tells the s/o they just added another threat that needs to be removed to his already long list.

📖Do I even need to tell? It’s obvious that he’ll eliminate everyone who stands in his way of getting his darling’s love. This guy will most likely wip out every person who has and had somehow a relationship with the s/o in the past and present. Persons who insulted you, your old friends, your old bullies, the nice persons at your workplace, your old crushes, persons who were and are interested in you...Everyone!

📖I think he would at first try to court his darling into relationship with him and if we’re completely honest there’s no chance that this won’t work. At first nothing will look wrong for his darling since Chrollo seems like the perfect boyfriend, but slowly and surely Chrollo starts setting his trap to keep his darling by his side for all time. If the darling however possesses nerves made of steel and somehow manages to not fall for him then he’ll immediately kidnap them.

📖Terrible! That’s all I have to say to this. He’s ready to do unspeakable crimes for you and shows no hesitation. I can definitely see him as someone who will try to use a nen ability on you to make you fall in love with him. No chance in hell you’ll ever be able to escape since he and the troupe are always watching over you. If you somehow manage to escape then don’t feel guilty for all the lifes he’s going to take just to find you. The worst is that you might even fall for this guy despite all the bad things he does.

Feitan Portor

☠️First of all I would like to congratulate you on messing your whole life up for making him a Yandere for you. Feitan knows for sure that his feelings aren’t normal and you can believe me when I tell you that he absolutely hates the s/o for making him feel that way. He hates that he loves them! I believe he wanted to kill the darling at first, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it what enraged him even more. He’s a stalker, choosing to watch only from the distance and trying to figure out what exactly makes him feel this way and also hoping that this is just a very strong crush that will eventually pass by. Sorry to disappoint you Feitan, it isn’t. Possessive as fuck, he never really had much in his life and now he wants something more than anything else, the s/o. He’ll make sure that they’re only his.

☠️A sadistic, cold, cruel and strict Yandere. He expects his s/o to behave and if they don’t do as he says he’ll punish them without showing mercy, no matter how much they beg him. He never shows any kind of affection towards them and will terrify them on a daily base, he wants to make sure that they know what’s their place, he wants to make sure that they know that he could just kill them. He would never admit that he couldn’t bring himself to kill them and he makes sure that they’ll never know.

☠️Possessive~ Don’t try to make him jealous, it won’t end well for you and the other person. The moment his darling feels his bloodlust seeping from his aura they know they have messed up big and everyone in a radius from at least 15 meters will start trembling with fear because of his aura. The fact that he doesn’t say a word during all of this is even more nerve wracking.

☠️Don’t try to make me laugh. This man will give them something much more worse than death. He’ll show them hell and the worst part is that you’ll witness all of it because either he’ll bring you along because you need to get punished as well or you’re able to hear the dreadfully screams of the poor souls.

☠️Feitan is a stalker and just watched the darling for a long time before deciding to kidnap them, realizing that his feelings for them aren’t just temporary. For the s/o it won’t be a pleasant experience because as soon as they wake up they’ll see Feitan sitting near the bed and watching them with an intense and scary look in his eyes.

☠️I don’t really have to tell, do I? This guy punishes you as soon as you do something wrong and will use fear to keep you in line. He makes sure that you’re scared of him the moment you first see him. You also need to find the right amount of affection to give him because if you give him too much he’ll hurt you, but if you don’t give him some form of affection at all he’ll punish you even worse. He’ll never tell you what you did wrong and tells you always it’s your fault for making him this way. But just like with Hisoka this all comes from the fact that he doesn’t know how to act on his feelings for you. But with a lot of patience and a lot of pain from your side he might warm up to his feelings and you and will start treating you better.

Shalnark

📱Shalnark is a stalker and the obsessive type of Yandere. He can’t be near his darling all the time, but he’s always watching. This guy has most likely put cameras everywhere in their house to always be able to watch them and has for sure a tracker put in their phones to always be able to locate them. This makes it almost too easy for him to quickly gain every little available information of the s/o. He takes notice of the things they do and like, making sure to remember it all. Talented in lying and convincing his darling to do as he says what makes him the manipulative type.

📱He also possesses the traits delusional, clingy and lovestruck. He believes that the s/o needs his protection or else they would die in this world and he’s more than happy to give them his protection. I can also imagine him as someone clingy, even though he watches most of the time from the distance if he actually has time to spend with the s/o he’ll clinge onto their side as if his life depends on it. He grew up under pretty shitty circumstances and his darling completes him somehow. They’re like the missing half of him he never knew he missed until he felt the incompleteness when he couldn’t watch them.

📱Most of the time he watches the s/o from the distance, hacking himself into every security camera he can find to watch them. He gets jealous easily and will have an annoyed pout on his face whenever he sees his darling talking to someone else. Why would they do something like this? They only need him. If he’s with them at such a time he’ll have his slightly forced looking grin on his face and makes sure to whisper something at the other person without his darling hearing, his dark words not matching his beaming smile. I can also see him as someone who will start blackmailing other people or spreading some nasty rumors about his darling on the internet so that everyone starts avoiding him and he can be the only person they have left.

📱He relies most of the time on his hacking skills to ruin everyone’s life who he thinks deserve it. He’ll find out their dirty secrets and will spread nasty rumors, making sure that their whole life will break apart. If that somehow doesn’t work then he’ll resort to killing that person.

📱I believe that it won’t take long for Shalnark to kidnap his s/o, given the fact that he believes that they need him in order to survive. He’ll plan everything perfectly so nothing can go wrong when he takes them.

📱Shalnark is like sweet poison. His innocent smile doesn’t match his dark and threatening words! Don’t get fooled by his fake innocence! Shalnark is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, you won’t be able to believe that this grinning man can manage to do such terrible things. It’s useless to try to escape because this guy will find you wherever you go, he most likely has planted a tracker somewhere inside you so he can always locate you. His delusions don’t help either whenever you start throwing a tantrum he’ll just tell you that you need him to survive and you can’t convince him otherwise. That’s the reason why he isn’t afraid to hurt you, he’ll break your legs in order to prevent you from running away. He just wants to keep you safe.

Phinks Magcub

👊Phinks is the possessive, clingy and touchy Yandere. He wants the s/o to stay by his side for all their lifes and would go to extreme lengths to ensure that this will happen. Extremely clingy and touchy he’ll always have an arm around his darling or touch them in some way. Overprotective, his position should make it obvious why.

👊He’s also the lovestruck and soft Yandere. He’s very keen on his darling’s happiness and that they feel comfortable with him and he would be honestly so heartbroken if they should feel scared of him.

👊This guy’s jealousy is more than obvious. The moment someone even looks in his s/o’s direction is the moment he starts boiling with jealousy. He’s the only one who’s allowed to look at them! That’s the moment the other person is doomed.

👊He’ll snap everyone’s neck if he has to. No one can take the s/o away from him and everyone who he sees as a possible threat for his darling or their relationship will be dead very soon!

👊Phinks wants a normal relationship with his darling and also knows to some degree that kidnapping his s/o would make them hate him. But given his possessiveness and overprotectiveness there would have to happen only one small thing that might endanger his darling and then he would instantly take them. He’ll be really apologetic afterwards.

👊Phinks is just a gentleman for you and would never harm you. But to everyone else he’ll be a nightmare because he’s fiercely protective over his you and if someone upsets you he’ll be upset too.

Pakunoda

💘I was so mad when she died and I even hated Kurapika for a while after that. She’s such a sweetheart, just why?! However, let’s start. Pakunoda is the aware type of Yandere, she knows that the amount of love she holds for her darling isn’t normal. Also the obsessive Yandere. She has a huge interest in her darling’s hobbies, interests and favorite things and with her ability it honestly won’t be hard to find everything she desires to know out.

💘I can also imagine her as the manipulative and overprotective type. She doesn’t have the best past, she grew up in Meteor City and has seen some shit which makes her more protective when it comes to her darling. She’s also very talented in talking her darling into staying with her, always mentioning the fact that she’s just so worried about the s/o and always managing to convince her darling.

💘She understands the fact that her s/o has other people in their life as well, even though she doesn’t like it that much. But she wants to see her darling happy so for their sake she holds on for as long as the interaction goes on. She has an angel’s patience and can hold on for a really long time and even when she gets impatient she would never interrupt, just tapping her feet lightly. But of course she steps in when someone’s getting touchy with her s/o or she senses that her darling isn’t comfortable with the other person.

💘Pakunoda doesn’t care for everyone except the troupe and her darling. But she doesn’t just kill everyone who comes to close to her darling, she only kills if she has a reason too. With her ability it’s very easy for her to find out who is an actual threat to the s/o or not and when she knows for sure that someone plans to harm or try to take them away from her, she’ll get rid of them. If the enemy is someone strong who she probably won’t be able to handle alone she’ll ask the troupe members for help, most likely Uvogin who’s the most eager to fight.

💘Pakunoda isn’t the type to kidnap the s/o. She wants to avoid to do this under every costs possible. She really doesn’t want to let her darling find out how unhealthy her feelings are for them. She’s more the type to spend a few days in her darling’s house if she’s concerned about their safety and well-being, making it look like a normal overnight stay to spend some quality time together.

💘Paku is such a sweetheart!! She’s very gentle and calm with you and always respects your choices and gives you privacy if you need some. She might be a Yandere for you, but she’s very careful to not show it, you most likely won’t even notice that she’s one.

Machi Komacine

🪡Machi is a cold and harsh Yandere. She never displays much emotions and that counts for most of the time for her darling as well. She’s very harsh with her words, especially if her s/o did something stupid she’ll spit poisonous words at them whilst giving them a cold look. She is also aware of her feelings and was at first somewhat conflicted about it.

🪡Also the strict and overprotective one. She expects her darling to behave very well and will get very cruel with her words when they act up against her, but at the same time I can see her as someone overprotective over her darling. Because even though she’s pretty mean she deeply cares for the s/o and could never forgive herself if something would happen to them and she couldn’t protect them.

🪡She always has this annoyed look on her face so you’ll most likely won’t be able to tell exactly when she’s jealous. I can see her as someone who will react passive aggressive. She’ll be more hostile towards the other person who makes her jealous, slipping some pretty mean words here and there in about them and at some point this person will start to feel very intimidated by her harsh glare and also very self-cautious because of her cruel comments.

🪡She has sharp intuitions and is good at telling if someone could be dangerous for her darling or their relationship with her. So she’s willing to get rid of everyone who she sees as a possible threat. But of course she’s careful with it, not wanting the s/o finding out because this could scare them more away from her.

🪡Machi will only kidnap her darling if they would find out who she really is or if they break for some other reason every contact up they had with her. Then she’ll take her darling without a second thought and locks them somewhere up where they can’t escape her.

🪡Machi might at first look like a really cold one, but I guess over time she’ll warm up to you and show you a more softer side she doesn’t show everyone. Of course she’ll curse at you when you hurt yourself and call you stupid and dumb, but she’s quick to stitch your wounds, very careful with not hurting you. And of course she often insults you when angry, but is always your shoulder to cry on when you need comfort.

Shizuku Murasaki

🧠Shizuku is the obsessive type, she’s normally very forgetful, but for some reason she doesn’t forget things like the s/o’s name, birthday, favorite color, hobbies and all this other stuff. Even if she forgets it she’ll always find it out again, showing a huge interest in everything her darling does. That makes her believe that her darling must be someone special to her.

🧠This leads us to the delusional type. She hears and sees only what she wants to see and hear and if they try to run away she’ll forget it. Nothing can change the ideal picture she has in her mind and if her darling does something to ruin this picture she’s quick to erase that memory. She also imagines things she and her darling did together that never really happened, but she’s convinced that it happened. Also the clingy type, give her all of your attention!

🧠Shizuku expects her darling to pour their whole attention towards her when she’s with them and gets jealous of whoever prevents the s/o of giving their whole attention to her. It won’t show on her face how she really feels about it and that’s the problem because the s/o won’t see how she feels. They just continue the conversation with the other person, making Shizuku more and more jealous without even realizing that they do.

🧠Shizuku might forget things fastly, but she won’t forget the person who took her darling’s attention away from her or this guy who got a bit too touchy with her s/o. Because of her more innocent look and air headed character most people underestimate her which is the biggest mistake they can ever do in their lifes. It’ll be also the last mistake they’ll ever make in their lifes.

🧠I don’t think Shizuku would kidnap the s/o because she believes that they love her just as much as she does and is very chill about letting the s/o meet their family and friends. But you need to repay that kindness later on to her in form of showing her affection or else she’ll start seeing your close ones as threats.

🧠Her delusions here are the worst and best thing at the same time. On the one hand she’ll never give up on the thought that you love her as well and she’ll always misinterpreted your words into what she wants to hear, but on the other hand she’ll always forget when you did something wrong and lets you wander around freely simply because she’s convinced that you would never leave her because you love her.

Uvogin

🫀Uvogin is the overprotective and lovestruck Yandere. He’s almost even more protective over his s/o than over his troupe, especially when they can’t use nen. Then this guy will be like their personal guard dog. I can also see him as a lovestruck one, he becomes such a softie when he’s near his darling.

🫀Also a touchy and clingy one. It might be surprising, but he lives for his s/o’s attention and stays always, when he doesn’t have some business in the group, with his darling which is also connected with his overprotectiveness. Also an absolute fan of physical affection, handholding, cuddling, anything!

🫀He looses patience very fast, but most people don’t even dare to come close enough to his darling since Uvogin is very intimidating. If someone actually possesses the guts to talk to them, which is most likely when Uvogin is for some reason not beside you, then this person will sense the next person something big towering over them. They don’t even turn around, they just run like a frightened bunny.

🫀As mentioned most people don’t even dare to glance wrongly into the s/o’s direction because Uvogin is always with you. The only time someone would have the chance to somehow do something to the darling when he’s away with the troupe. But the moment he gets back and finds out that someone dared to flirt with his s/o or even worse, harmed them in some way is the moment he’s ready to rip this person apart. It will be anything, but pleasant.

🫀He trusts his darling enough to not try anything behind his back or try to run away from him. The darling doesn’t have much contact anyways since basically anyone’s too scared to come even near them, being afraid of Uvogin. That allows him to have his darling nearly all for himself, but he’s okay with it when they want to visit their family. Overall he doesn’t really like the thought of kidnapping them, something really extreme would have to happen for him to take this extreme step. One example being if his s/o nearly got killed whilst he wasn’t there to protect them. Then he would take them from their home, wanting to assure that he can always protect them.

🫀He’s one of the more softer ones from this list. It’s funny that this dude here is willing to become your personal big teddy bear if you ask him to. Also a Yandere who would never hurt his darling, under no circumstances. He’ll totally spoil you, getting you everything you desire.

[foenixs]

Sex with Monsta X

note: this is a headcanon to what I believe sex with the members of Monsta X would be like, I see most of them as subs and wrote the bullet points according to this theory (again, these are just my two cents on the topic)

if you like my works please reblog them with a nice comment or tag

includes- sub!Monsta X x reader, mentions of different kinks (overstimulation, pet play, pegging, whipping, brat taming, choking, begging, degradation, dacryphilia, teasing, edging, biting), oral

none of the gifs used are mine

Shownu

-very classic, vanilla type (does not need anything more, but he can fuck you any way you crave)

-will be willing to try new things if it makes you happy and has no problems with letting you top or dom him

-likes it when you tell him what to do and then praise him when he’s doing a good job following orders (the perfect service top)

-might seem like he’s not too horny or eager to have sex with you sometimes but that’s just his calm (robot xD) self, you could come up to him at any time and he’d be ready/make some time for you

-will be mostly quiet, but smile when he feels good

-secretly loves when you overstimulate him and will let you know with low groans

-strong suit: thrusts (this man literally re-invented bodyrolls!!)

Wonho

-bunny with a capital B, he’s literally so fluffy and soft, a total sub and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s actually into pet play (will be so happy when you buy him custom bunny ears)

-his body might be huge, but his heart is even bigger, and he’ll prove that in bed

-will do anything and everything for you, the most obedient of them all as he won’t even question your demands (this makes it very hard to punish him, but I mean how could you punish such a pure soul anyway)

-not afraid to moan

-lowkey has separation issues (I wonder why 🙁) so you’re gonna have to reinsure him that he’s yours and you’re his and nothing will change that

-strong suit: devotion (this just sums him up as a person)

Minhyuk

-he screams duality! Is a switch with a sub-leaning

-will be loud (!!), energetic, sometimes even bratty (but always in more of a playful way), but then he’ll suddenly do a 180° and become all cute and obedient

-very rarely gets flustered as he loves skin ship (so so proud of you and your relationship, at least in front of his members)

-not to mention he’s the con-artist of the group and will shamelessly use that to his advantage; if he wants to get punished, he’ll trick you into believing he did something wrong so you teach him a lesson, only for you to find out that that’s what he wanted and he actually hadn’t broken your rules all along (which makes you wanna punish him even more)

-every now and then he’ll get in his switch feels and will want to dom, but he’ll always ask you first and if you don’t like him taking the lead, he’ll drop it again or ask for a compromise (would rather push his own desires down than make you uncomfortable)

-I think he has the least problems with sharing you and he might even suggest having a threesome (wanting to have tried it at least once in his life), he knows you love him and is not one to get jealous easily

-strong suit: energy (would definitely be up for multiple rounds since he doesn’t get tired out easily)

Kihyun

-now this man is a little more complicated…

-I believe that he still has the mindset of men are on top and in control, while women need to be taken care of and he will use that mindset when you two first have sex

-you must be very blunt with him and tell him that that’s not what you are into and suggest that he let you top just once

-he will be very shy when he lets you do your thing for the first time and you’ll have to ease him into submission; will be even more embarrassed when he realizes how much better this new role feels

-will never let anyone know that he is secretly your sub, but over time (as he starts to trust you completely) he will melt in your hands like pudding and bend to your will

-his voice raises an octave while you fuck him and he’ll let out the most inhuman sounds (screeching, screaming, and what not), afterwards he’ll deny ever having made such sounds

-every now and then when he has a really bad day, he will become very bratty, not following any of your demands and he might even curse you out; that’s when the brat tamer inside you will burst through and you’ll whip him so hard he won’t be able to properly sit for days (will apologize for the mean things he said during aftercare and thank you for helping him forget about his day)

-threesomes are an absolute no-go, he hates sharing and would get super scared you’d leave him for someone else/that he’s not good enough for you (complete opposite of Minhyuk)

-strong suit: loyalty (you are his one and only and he doesn’t want or need anyone else)

Hyungwon

-he gives me the weakest sub-vibes out of all the members; doesn’t understand why you want to dom him so badly but if you insist on it, he’d still let you do it

-is very blunt when it comes to his desires and not ashamed to tell you when he wants to have sex

-likes it when you suck him off, but can’t take a lot of teasing/edging (might be unexpectedly turned on by overstimulation if you kept on going after he came and would ask you to do that again the next time)

-has a thing for feeling your hands rest on his chest and neck (not necessarily choking him), especially when you ride him

-loves making out while having sex and having you kiss down his neck and play with his hair, might even suck on your nipples if you let him

-can hold back sounds very well, but he secretly has the prettiest moans

-strong suit: lips (his oral skills are no joke, and he knows it; might play dumb about it just to tease you)

Jooheon

-the. Absolute. Fucking. Cutest. So adorable and so needy

-master at begging (is fluent in aegyo), always gets what he wants

-will cling onto you like a monkey and pout when you don’t have time to please him

-loves it when you tease and edge him, push his legs up to fuck his cute ass, pull on his hair, degrade him, use him, anything! just loves to have sex with you, all the time

-sex will pretty much always be rough and kinky so make sure to give him the best aftercare (CUDDLES!), will always thank you afterwards

-likes to wear your clothes and nothing else

-lives for the duality, like when you push your strap on down his throat while gently stroking his hair and telling him how good of a toy, he is for you

-will whimper so much and so loud; cannot keep quiet (you’ll have to gag him if you don’t want the whole neighbourhood to know that you are fucking your boyfriend, yet again)

-dacryphilia

-strong suit: obedience (will let you do anything to him as long as you do something; the only time he’ll whine and throw a tantrum is when you ignore him for too long)

Changkyun

-might be a major tease on stage but is so shy and quiet in real life

-loves to be roughened up but is not quite as straight forward about it as Jooheon

-lowkey likes when you slap him (whether it be his chest, thighs or maybe even his face)

-loves to get bitten by you and marked up and won’t bother covering them up the next day

-choking him will make him cum in a matter of minutes, sometimes seconds and if you don’t put your hands around his neck, he will literally grab them and do it himself

-is a growler and has the deepest moans (will moan out your title if you have one, if not he’ll just repeat your name)

-a god at eating you out, you practically live on his face (loves it when you pull on his hair while he goes down on you)

-he is a very honest and blunt person as well and he might even sit you down one day to talk about each other’s kinks and make plans for when and how you could try them in the future

-contrary to his on-stage persona, he is very affectionate with you and likes to hold you close to him/be held close to you

-he’s still young so I do believe he has a high sex drive, but he won’t pressure you into it

-strong suit: tongue, nose & fingers (uses the three to his advantage during oral)

masterlist

[blue-writes-things]

I Just Can’t Say It

Remus Lupin x Sirius Black | Angst w/ Fluff

“Sirius, why do you never say it back?”

| Masterlists | Words: 1429 A/N: Whoa, Blue posting a new fic that’s new Warnings: Angst, insecurities in relationships (?)

Feedback is always appreciated! - Blue

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Remus and Sirius had been dating for almost a year and a half. They were the queer power couple of Hogwarts, and everything was going amazing. Yes, they still had fights and disagreements but they always managed to work it out.

But one thing had been plaguing Remus’s mind for some time now, Sirius had never said “I love you”

He knows Sirius is still very new to the idea of people actually caring about and loving him. Remus could understand that maybe he didn’t know what to put into words how he felt but the first time Remus said “I love you” to Sirius didn’t go so smoothly...

*FLASHBACK*

The two of them were walking hand in hand around the school not really knowing or caring where. Just spending time together as Sirius animatedly talked about a prank he and James pulled off and something about how “Mother’s going to be sooo pissed!”

They were standing by a window, the sun perfectly shining through casting a beautiful golden light onto Sirius, making him look almost angelic. So overcome with emotion he couldn’t help thinking about all the amazing times they’ve had together, how much he loved Sirius. Remus was so enraptured in how Sirius looked he didn’t realize he had been staring.

“Earth to Moony!” Sirius called, making Remus jump out of his trance “What’s that pretty lil’ head of yours thinking about?” He tilted his head like a curious puppy.

“Just about how much I love you” Remus smiled sweetly, squeezing the hand he still had intertwined with his own.

Those seven words caused Sirius to freeze and tense up, eyes wide and flicking all over Remus’s face. "I- I-" he let out a distressed noise from the back of his throat. Remus noticed tears start to prick at the corners of his eyes.

“Sirius-” he didn’t get a chance to finish as Sirius tore away from him, sprinting in the opposite direction, a hand clamped over his mouth. Now it was Remus’s turn to freeze, his arm still slightly extended from when Sirius pulled away from him.

Sirius avoided everyone for the rest of the day and didn’t show up to lessons or meals. James tried to talk to him when he was curled up on his bed but he didn’t know what caused Sirius to retreat into himself and instead of saying anything Sirius just shook his head and locked himself in the bathroom. He stayed there for most of the next day.

The group was tense all day; it was weird not having Sirius there.

Remus finally saw him when he went back to the dorm to grab some textbook. He walked in to see Sirius curled up on his bed and wearing one of his jumpers, but what really broke his heart was that he was crying.

“Sirius, love”

Remus crouched on the floor next to Sirius “Pads, look at me” he said gently. When finally he did, Sirius quickly wiped his tears as if in a final attempt to hide he was crying “Pads, what’s going on?”

Sirius just shook his head and wrapped his arms around Remus’s neck hugging him tightly “Sirius- can’t breath” Remus said with a light voice. So Sirius let go for one second before grabbing Remus’s wrist and hauling him onto his bed, wrapping around him like a Bowtruckle to a tree.

Remus asked once again a bit later (after lots of cuddles, kisses and a long nap together) about what happened but Sirius just shook his head and buried himself into Remus’s shoulder. So Remus dropped it.

*FLASHBACK OVER*

Remus has said it three more times after that; Sirius didn’t pull away like that again but he still didn’t return the phrase. He would tense up for a moment but then give a soft smile and kiss Remus.

Remuss’ insecurities and self-doubt had started telling him Sirius didn’t like him the same way Remus did him. Maybe Sirius just didn’t want to break things off as it might hurt the group, maybe Sirius wanted to break up with him but didn’t know how?

But now It was their year and a half anniversary. Remus had spent a long time setting up a nice evening together, as they were walking hand in hand around the lake Remus stopped walking, making Sirius turn to look at him.

“What’s up Rem?”Sirius smiled, but Remus didn’t answer. He pulled him into a kiss, it was a kiss full of love and emotion, making Sirius completely melt into Remus.

“I love you so much Sirius” Remus said once he had pulled away, resting his forehead against the others. Sirius tensed and gave him a scared smile and pulled him to another kiss.

But Remus pulled back, looking deep into his eyes “Sirius, why do you never say it back? D-do you not love me?” he had tried to keep his voice steady and calm, maybe even a little assertive but he still stammered at the end. Not fully knowing if he even wanted to know if Sirius loved him or not.

“What? N-no! Moony- Remus it’s not like that!” Sirius’s eyes widened and he looked frantic.

“Then what is it Sirius? Cause to me not saying ‘I love you’ back to someone pretty much means you don’t. That may just be me but that’s how I feel.” Remus’s voice raised a bit and he was frowning, Sirius was yet to meet his eyes.

“No it’s not- I just- You’ve got it all wrong- I-,” Sirius was stammering and was shaking slightly.

Remus pulled his hand away from Sirius’s “I can’t keep giving my love and trust into someone who won’t return it Sirius. It’s eating me up inside, it hurts when you do things like this, when you don’t even tell my why” Remus took a deep breath turning to look back at the castle,

“Sirius, until you figure out your feelings I think...I think we need to take a break” It took every ounce of his Gryffindor bravery to say that, his heart and his mind were screaming at each other. One saying don’t leave him you love him, the other saying leave him he doesn’t love you.

“No!” Sirius shouted, calling Remus’s attention back at him, looking into Sirius’s eyes. The normal soft grey was clouded with absolute terror “no, no, please don’t leave me! I’m just, I-”

“Just what Sirius?!” Remus didn’t mean to snap at Sirius like that; what he really wanted to do was pull Sirius into a tight hug and say it was ok, that he wasn’t going to leave him, but he also wanted to know what Sirius was going to say.

“I just can’t say it, ok!” Sirius yelled, Remus opened his mouth to reply but Sirius kept talking, like floodgates opening “I can’t say it because I don’t know what it is! I don’t know how it feels to have someone lov- care about me like this, like you do. And I hate myself for that cause I have these feelings that I’ve never felt before.”

Remus was frozen, staring at him, Sirius’s voice went quiet “When you hold me, when you smile, when you say that, those three words I get this feeling of warmth and light and happiness inside me, and- and it terrifies me because I’ve never felt that before.”

Sirius finally looked Remus in the eye; they both had tears rolling down their cheeks. Remus walked back over to Sirius, taking his hand and resting his other on Sirius’s cheek, the other nuzzling into it slightly closing his eyes.

“Sirius, that’s all I needed to hear” Sirius flicked his eyes to Remus “because that warm feeling in here” He raised their interlocked hands to Sirius’s chest, over his heart.

“That is exactly how I feel, cause that’s what love feels like Pads”

“Y-yeah?”

Remus smiled at him with a nod pulling Sirius into his chest with a tight hug, Sirius clinging to him just as tight head in his shoulder.

“I don’t expect you to say it back to me. I get it now. But I’ll probably say it alot more now” Remus smiled slightly into Sirius’s hair.

“You’d better, cause I wanna be able to say it back”

They pulled away slightly to look at eachothers eyes both with small, slightly sad smiles.

“I love you, Sirius” Remus kissed his head, Sirius smiled brightly before burying his face back into Remus’s neck.

And Remus was almost certain he heard Sirius say,

“I love you too.”

[firelxdykatara]

Re: your excellent recent metas on stanning Mako and semi-comparing/contrasting him with Katara, do you think Mako should have ever gotten his own TSR-style arc of seeking revenge on his parents’ killer? It’s something I’ve been thinking about ever since re-entering the ATLA/LOK fandom last year. Just, UGH, the wasted potential to use such an arc to really dig into Mako’s psyche and all the hardship he’s endured, and also make said hardship more front-and-center to his audience of antis who unfairly reduce him to a standoffish, philandering asshole. I understand not wanting to re-do TSR in LOK, but Mako deserved SOMETHING of that calibur for a character arc. What are your thoughts?

Oooooh this is a really good question, and it's something I hadn't really thought of before--which, I think, is part of the issue with LoK as a whole. If you'll forgive a bit of a tangent--in atla, we are constantly reminded about the losses that Sokka and Katara have suffered--not in any kind of heavy-handed way (no matter how much the Katara haters will whine about her mentioning their mother, even though they usually won't say boo about Sokka despite him mentioning their father at least as often)--because the narrative makes it very clear that it's something on their minds through everything else that happens. It shapes who they are, and informs a lot of the decisions they make. You can see this with Zuko, too, and the abuse he suffered from his father--even before it is revealed in The Storm, you know that something happened, and that maybe it's not such a great thing that he is desperate to 'regain' his honor and return home. And even Aang, though he only rarely is shown to actually grapple with it on screen, is a constant reminder to the world, as well as to the audience, of the consequences of the war, simply by virtue of being an airbender and the last living remnant of the Air Nomads.

By contrast, LoK doesn't do much with the traumas any of the main cast suffered, particularly not anything that happened prior to the start of the series. Mako has a deeply emotional conversation early on in the show about what happened to his parents, and what he witnessed as a small child, but nothing is ever made of this information. It provides a bit of context, and it allows fans like me who are dissatisfied with the way the show and fandom proceeded to treat him to dig deep and realize just how much he suffered and how much better he deserved--but as far as the show itself is concerned, that conversation was essentially flavortext. It doesn't mean much, the show doesn't seem interested in having Mako or Bolin reflect on their lives or even be shown to visibly mourn their parents (who never show up in so much as a single flashback). Even when they meet their paternal grandmother in book 3, nothing much is made of the connection (and when Bolin has to forcibly evacuate Yin from Ba Sing Se, she makes him wait for her to grab..... the picture of the dead Earth Queen, rather than the picture of her son and his family), other than Yin telling them why their father severed connection with his family and Mako choosing to give her his one memento of his parents.

And like... I get that was meant to be an emotional moment, but... his father chose to cut off all contact with his family. Whatever the reasons might have been, whether he might have changed his mind had he lived, the fact was that what he wanted from his life was to look to the future--to his wife (who he never bothered taking home to meet his parents) and to his children. I really don't think he would have wanted his mother to have his scarf instead of his son--especially not when she had memories of his entire life (adult memories!) to hold onto, while Mako only had the hazy memories of childhood and one physical token to cling to when those might not be enough.

Bolin is glad to suddenly have a huge family, when they meet their grandmother, but again... nothing really comes of this. At some point Bolin mentions that he used to dig through literal garbage for food, and this is played for laughs rather than taken as any kind of serious examination of his life before things changed. The show just doesn't care about the krew as individual characters, not really--they are moved about as needed for the Plot, jokes are occasionally made about their backgrounds, sometimes something is pulled out for an emotional tearjerker moment before never being referenced again (I mean, really, Grandma Yin is around for multiple episodes in book 3 and book 4, and neither Mako nor Bolin spend an episode just begging to hear about their father's childhood?), and... that's about it.

All of which is a very long-winded way of saying yes, I absolutely think that Mako should've gotten his own TSR-like episode. Obviously it shouldn't have been just a carbon-copy, or even necessarily occupy a similar niche in the show--while TSR is very much a Katara episode, it is also a Zuko and Katara episode, because whether you ship them or not, the episode is explicitly about not only Katara gaining closure for here mother's murder, but also about Katara working through her feelings regarding Zuko and choosing to forgive him. However, I absolutely believe that Mako should have been given a chance to confront his parents' murderer, and I think it's a crying shame that this never actually happened.

And the thing is, they wouldn't have even had to 'redo' TSR, any more than you consider Mako as a character to be a 'redo' of Katara just because they have similar childhood traumas--but what they very easily could have done is shown how that trauma lingers. Show Mako's complicated relationship with firebending (he really has no thoughts about his own element, when it is what killed his parents???) and with the Triads that he had to do work for to make ends meet as a teenager so that he could keep Bolin fed. Maybe he knows exactly which of the Triads was responsible for his parents' death--maybe the man's face is burned into his mind, appearing in his own nightmares so frequently he couldn't forget it if he tried.

Maybe he had to do a job for the man who killed his parents, and only the thought of Bolin going hungry or worse if Mako never came home kept him from attacking. Maybe that night, when he got home, after he made sure Bolin had something to eat and went to sleep, he threw up until there was nothing left in his stomach and then he kept retching, throat raw and eyes stinging, because every time he closed his eyes he saw that man's face and felt the hand that killed his parents clapping him on the back for a job well done.

Maybe the man who killed his parents is one of Amon's Triad victims, loses his bending and is pathetic and weak, and Mako struggles against the urge to roast him alive without a second thought. Maybe Korra is there, slowly putting the pieces together, wanting to speak up but knowing that this is Mako's pain and it's something she could never fully understand, believing with all her heart that he'll make the right choice... but still sighing with relief when Mako's shoulders slump, the fire goes out of his hands, and the man who killed his parents runs away.

Maybe, at the end of the book when she is restoring everyone's powers, the man who killed Mako's parents gets to the head of the line... and she refuses. Maybe that's ultimately his punishment. And maybe Mako is standing there, fists clenched against the still-simmering rage in his gut, teeth clenched against the urge to vomit, relaxing only when the man leaves--dejected, rejected and powerless--and smiling, because he can finally begin to heal and move on from the scars left behind by his parents' deaths, but the man who killed them will have to remember every single day for the rest of his life exactly why he's powerless.

Idk, I just think... it would really be neat if Mako had been allowed to get closure for what happened to his parents. It would be... neat. I'm not crying at all shut up.

[cno-inbminor]

domus

a/n: here we have another short drabble dump! i wrote this up very quickly -- i’m still working on that long fic i’ve been talking about! i apologize for taking so long to put it together. pls take this short fic as an apology for now. stay hydrated, wear your masks, and be safe! love you all so dearly <3 

plot: when kuroo tetsuro drops the hard-hitting truth that he’s fallen out of love with you, your first thought is to escape. but you find comfort in the least likely person: akaashi keiji, a boy you had grown up with out of forced family interactions, who always seemed so distant from you. yet you probably knew more about him than anyone else. 

characters: fem!reader, ex-bf!kuroo, & family friend!akaashi 

wc: ~3.7k, will probably have other parts in the future.

genre/warnings: angst with dashes of fluff; mentions of alcohol

pt. 2 | pt. 3

edit: now crossposted to AO3!

When you’re in love, you spend weeks and months wondering why time won’t stop. You sit and ponder over why you’ll have to die someday and leave behind the person you’ve dedicated your entire soul to, or what might happen if your death came early and you didn’t get to say goodbye. You wonder why the seasons seem to pass you by so quickly, that in the blink of an eye, you go from enjoying a cup of iced tea on the porch to holding a mug of hot chocolate inside watching snowflakes swirl in their journeys to the ground.

But when love ceases to exist, time seems to stop. The days drag for longer, the seasons crawl at a turtle’s pace, and the inevitable end feels less terrifying. You no longer fear the eventual sagging of your skin or the spider legs that grow at the corners of your eyes. You no longer cling onto a hope that there will be a lover’s hand holding yours at your bed of eternal sleep. You simply become, just you. Solitary, single, independent you.

It’s no longer you and someone else. The realization stings so badly that it physically hurts you, a whimper leaving your throat. You shakily reach over for the next blouse and fight back the tears, teeth gnawing at your bottom lip. The skin is chapped and broken to the point that you would need layers and layers of chapstick to save any semblance of it, a terrible habit that you wish you hadn’t possessed. It’s muscle memory, the way you fold the blouse in half, fold the sleeves in, bending it over your arm before it lands in a neat stack of other tops in your suitcase. Your eyes take a glance at the clock, and you gather you have about another hour before you needed to leave for the airport and make it on time for your flight.

You ignore the male figure hunched over on the edge of your bed, tuning out his pleas and broken promises. He begs you to give him time, to implore that it’s all his fault and he’ll make it work for the two of you. Tetsuro promises that he didn’t mean to and that it wasn’t anything you did, but you feel so empty inside that you can’t even find the energy to argue, to turn on him and say that he was pretending to take all the blame so it’d be a better explanation to all your friends. A relationship involves both parties, and while there were special exceptions, this wasn’t one of them. Something was clearly wrong with you, and you were okay with that. You were just tired of Testuro attempting to take everything onto himself.

“I thought it’d be best to come clean with you,” he says, throat hoarse from lack of hydration. “I know you would question it and I haven’t done anything, I swear, I know you’re amazing and don’t deserve to live a lie and—”

“Do you want me to say ‘thank you’?” You interjected quietly, morosely. Your hands slide open the underwear drawer and take out a week’s worth of underwear, bras, and bralettes. “Do you want me to express my gratitude in your honesty for telling me that you don’t love me anymore? You can easily buy a trophy online and make the inscription yourself. ‘Most honest man alive’? Is that what you want?” You ask, tone flat and not possessing the least bit of amusement and humor.

“Can’t you give me some time? I’ll try, I’ll try to figure out what went wrong, and I can love you again. We can still get married and everything, but please don’t leave.”

“I’m not leaving forever, Tetsu. I’m just gone for a week, maybe more.”

“Where are you even going?”

“That’s none of your business,” you quickly reply, defenses back up as you make a beeline for the bathroom. You pick up all the toiletries you can, the ones that would be allowed in your carry-on. Strangers won’t care about your missing skincare routine and your complexion not looking its best.

“What if you get lost? Or kidnapped? What if people ask—”

“Easy. Just tell them I had a last minute business trip, family emergency, whatever floats your boat.”

“Can’t you see that I’m trying? I—”

“This isn’t just about you!” You snap, whirling around to look at him for the first time in the last hour or so. Testuro notices with a pang in his heart that your cheeks have sunken in slightly since he broke his revelation to you just last week, the eye circles darker than ever. But your eyes are soulless, dead, no shine or spark that he’d wake up to every morning even muddled with sleep.

“You can’t just expect me to be okay and continue to bend over backwards for you without question. The least you could do is give me my time, give me some space to think about all of it. That’s the bare minimum.”

And with that, you zip your suitcase shut, grab your passport (even though you probably don’t need it), keys, wallet, and phone, and walk as quickly as you can to the front door. The scheduled Uber will arrive in just a few minutes, and as you slip into a pair of flats, you can hear the creak of the bed and Testuro’s padded steps nearing you.

“Just be careful, okay? Call me if you need anything, anything. You’re still one of the most important people to me, so just – text me at some point. Let me know you’re alive at least.”

“You need to rest. You’re on call tomorrow,” you digress while opening the door.

“(Y/n)—”

“I’ll text you. Promise.”

And the door shuts behind you.

-

Your relationship with Akaashi Keiji is…hard to explain. In fact, you’re not even sure what to refer him as in your life. Anytime you spoke of him or attempted to explain, you’d fumble over words and draw blanks. While it was irritating and aggravating at times, you learned to just accept it.

Akaashi Keiji was the neighbor down the street, two years older, and someone who had known you since you were 8. Your moms were attached at the hip not longer after you moved to Tokyo, and that meant holidays were spent together, impromptu get-togethers and dinners were a common occurrence, and you saw him frequently at school. He was a quiet soul, gentle, but reserved. In fact, most of the things you knew about him were secondhand conversations from your mother talking about the family, because honestly his mom was basically your second mom now, and your mother trusted you with everything. His past, his troubles, his personality all relayed through your mom from his own, and when you saw him in the hallways, he wasn’t much of an enigma to you. Many other girls had found the mysterious air around him to be attractive, that the pretty setter who only ever smiled around his volleyball team and kept a tight circle of friends had something significant beneath the layers.

Keiji grew up with you, playing Smash on the Wii to pass time as your parents gossiped away. Sometimes, you’d play an intense game of Monopoly with him, a game that typically tipped in his favor. He never said much about himself, always relayed more about others that overlapped in your lives. The most he ever spoke to you about was when it came to teachers at school, even giving you some of his old notes and pointers. But even you could tell that he kept his guards up, and you wondered if he even classified you as a friend.

Your go-to explanation of Keiji’s standing in your life was a family friend. But that insinuated you were close with him, which you weren’t at all. No matter how many times he walked home with you (mainly at the pushing from his mother), no matter how many times he was forced to entertain you at dinners and holidays, no matter how many times he gave you a small smile in school, there was such a large gap between the two of you. He always seemed so different around his team, like they had the privilege of knowing the real him, and at times, you felt…jealous.

And the weird thing is that you can rely on him somehow – whether it be because he’d get an earful from his parents if he didn’t help you when you asked it or out of the goodness of his heart, he was simply always there. Sometimes, you were bold enough to text him about a show he talked about in the past, and he would reply quickly as if your unexpected, rare text about something benign didn’t faze him at all.  

Yet despite the distance, despite the lack of any semblance of an actual friendship with him, he was the first one you thought of when all this happened. He was the one you wanted to see – maybe it’s because he was the closest thing to home, and you didn’t want to go back to your parents explaining everything. It’s been a while since you’ve been back in Tokyo, ever since you moved to Sapporo for your job and Testuro got matched for a residency at a hospital there.

At 7PM on a Friday afternoon, past the baggage claim with the sunset beaming in through the sliding glass doors, you stare at Keiji’s contact on your phone, thumb hovering hesitantly over the call button. You could count the number of times you’ve called him on one hand, but this was an emergency, right? Is this why your heart is pounding against your chest, so anxious that you feel like you’ll break into a cold sweat any time soon?

You jump into the deep end.

Your hand nervously brings the phone to your ear, waiting with bated breath as the dial tone echoes in the chamber of your brain. Part of you wants him to miss the call so you can avoid this awkward conversation, but another part of you desperately wants him to pick up as if he’ll be able to save you.

Oh god oh god oh god, you panic as the tone stops, there’s a pause, a rustle, and then a hesitant, “—Hello?”

You didn’t plan this out. You’re not ready for this. Shit, what are you supposed to say?

“—hello? (Y/n)?”

“Have you had dinner yet?”

Wow, you’re a terrible conversationalist.

“…um, I haven’t actually. I was about to warm up some leftovers?”

Your eyes focus on the taxis driving by, picking up passengers as they get waved down. Maybe you should just find a cheap hotel nearby, continue this conversation tomorrow.

“Well…I’m in town, actually. I just landed about 30 minutes ago and realized I didn’t have anywhere to go and I don’t really want to call anyone else and I don’t exactly know who else to call so I just, um, thought about calling you and asking if you’ve had dinner? Which if you’re busy and stuff, that’s totally fine, I should’ve texted you beforehand instead of springing this on you and—”

“(Y/n), it’s okay, alright? It’s okay. I’m not busy, so you can stop by. Did my mom ever give you my address?”

Keiji’s brief attempt to calm you down works, surprisingly. You allow yourself to take a deep breath despite the stale airport air, but it was some much-needed oxygen. This is going to be okay, Keiji doesn’t hate you quite yet.

“N-no, she never did.”

“That’s fine, I’ll text it to you. My place is about 30 minutes from the airport, I’d recommend getting a taxi instead of an Uber. I’ll order some delivery—”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“You still like the miso ramen from that shop not far from your house, right? They opened up a second store not far from where I live.”

How did he remember that? You’re pretty sure your own mother had forgotten that fact by now.

“Y-yeah, I do,” you smile to yourself. “I still think about it sometimes.”

“Sounds good then. Get here safely then.”

“Okay. Thank you loads again. I’m sorry for all this—”

“Don’t worry about it. Keep me updated, see you later.”

“Yeah, bye.”

Not 30 seconds later, a text arrives to your phone with an address, a keycode for getting past the main door, and other relevant instructions.

-

Keiji’s apartment is exactly as you expect it to be – prim, proper, neat almost to a fault, with minimalist decorations. The apartment complex he lives in is rather high-end, if the security guards standing outside the main entrance indicated anything. You almost feel completely out of place or like a bug on the wall as you step in after him, a rather comfortable silence between the two of you. His kitchen is spotless and almost sparkles back at you, and the only thing that seems out of place are the containers of your ramen he so kindly ordered for you.

“Your place is really nice, it’s really…you,” you comment, setting your stuff down at the door. Keiji indulges you with a quiet laugh, making sure that there wasn’t anything that would be in your way. His glasses are perched on his head, an old monochrome t-shirt on his shoulders and sweatpants hung low on his hips, yet in this apartment that almost seems like it should be in an interior design magazine, he looks at home. His ethereal beauty, the softness in his eyes, the gentle up-turned strands of his hair – he belonged here.

“The ramen came not too long ago, so it’s still hot. I’ll go ahead and put it together, you can put your jacket on the couch.”

“Oh, thank you.”

Instead, you fold your jacket over your suitcase and quietly make your way into the apartment. Straight across from you are doors to a balcony – darkness had long taken over the city, so you see nothing but your reflection at first. But as you near the plexiglass, the reflection disappears into the view and you almost gasp from the beauty of it.

Blinking lights, flashing billboards, and the brightly lit Tokyo Skytree peer back at you. It only hits you now how much you’ve missed home, and that even though Sapporo was one of the largest cities in Japan, it still wasn’t Tokyo.

“I never get tired of it,” Keiji chimes in while carrying your bowl of ramen to the dining table.

“It’s an amazing view, I can see why you’d live here,” you reply while moving away from it. The table also has two empty wine glasses, and just as you’re about to ask him why they were there, he returns with a newly opened bottle of chardonnay.

“I haven’t had a lot of time to restock the wine fridge, but I knew I was going to kick myself for not having a bottle of that dessert wine we had before you went off to college,” he said with mirth and amusement. “You remember that one?”

“Yeah,” you nearly splutter, almost flushing that once again, Keiji was remembering details about you that you didn’t even know. “Your mom wanted to throw me a graduation dinner and you made it back in time after finals. And she had a bottle of it and between the two of us, we probably drank most of it. Our parents said it was too sweet.”

He nods and sits across from you, elbows on the table as you mutter, “Itadakimasu,” and start eating. You finish your meal silently for the most part, making small talk here and there. Keiji refills both of your glasses and the two of you sip the wine demurely, and while he seems okay with the lack of an explanation, you’re struggling to find the right words.

“So what’s with the impromptu trip to Tokyo? Are you going to see your parents?”

“Should I try to lie to you?”

“It’s up to you.”

Oh, okay then.

But he looks expectant, as if he knows you wouldn’t lie to him – in fact, you’ve never lied to him before. There was never any need to, but did that just mean neither of you ever cared enough?

“Something happened with me and Testuro. I don’t want to bore you with the details, but at the end of the day…I just needed to get away, as cliché as it sounds,” you laugh brokenly. Keiji continues to carefully observe you with a stare that you can’t escape. “I don’t want to tell my parents – you know them, they’ll ask a million questions. Without thinking, I booked a ticket to Tokyo and…now I’m here.”

That was a lie. How are you supposed to tell Keiji that he was the first person you thought of in an effort to run away? You and Keiji have never gotten personal before, he made sure of that. The last thing you want to do is weird him and scare him off.

“…did he cheat on you?” Keiji asked. His voice is darker in his inquiry, deeper than you’ve ever heard before. He has his hands folded in front of his lips and his eyes harden. Testuro may be an old friend to him, but you were in his life longer.

“Nonononono,” you quickly wave off. This isn’t the time to slander your…boyfriend? Could Tetsuro still even be your boyfriend if he no longer has any feelings for you? “Nothing like that.”

“That’s good to hear. If you want, you can tell me another time then. You’re welcome to stay here until you go back to Sapporo.”

You look up at him, eyes incredulous. Could Keiji really be this comfortable with you?

“I wouldn’t mind staying tonight, but I can stay in a hotel for the rest of the week that I’m here.”

“Nonsense,” Keiji refutes, standing from the table and taking your wine glasses to the sink. You follow with your bowl and he starts washing them before you can even offer. “Mom would kill me if she knew I let you pay for a hotel when I have a perfectly functioning bed you can stay in.”

“I mean, if it’s not a bother…”

“It’s not. The futon’s pretty comfortable, I’ve definitely fallen asleep on it plenty of times.”

“We can switch, I would never let you sleep on the futon for a whole week.”

“If you say so then. But for tonight, you can take my bed. Let me grab you an extra towel so you can shower. I’m sure you’ve had a long day,” he says while drying everything off, folding the kitchen towel neatly before heading off to his room. He returns with a large, soft grey towel and you shyly take it from him with a word of thanks, but he stays there in front of you, waiting for something.

“I’m really glad you picked up the phone,” you whisper softly, feeling the effects of the alcohol. You’re entering uncharted territory for the two of you, and this could either kill or strengthen this odd distant friendship. “I meant it when I said I didn’t know who else to call. You were the first person that came to mind and just…I don’t want to make this weird, like you can kick me out,” you begin to ramble. “Don’t feel like you’re obligated to take me in because your mom would be disappointed if you wouldn’t, you’ve already put up with me for over 15 years and it’s fine, I can be on my own and—”

Smooth, calloused hands delicately hold your face, large palms and nimble fingers cupping your cheeks. Your words die on your tongue as Keiji stares straight into your eyes, holding your gaze until your breathing calms down to a steady, languid pace. “You’re my friend, (y/n). So it’s good that you called me.”

“I’m your…friend?” You ask unsteadily, feeling a sense of disbelief.

“Yeah,” he confirms with the corners of his lips turning up slightly. “We’re friends.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Now go shower.”

“Okay.”

-

You’re fast asleep before Keiji finishes his own shower, his bedroom door left ajar as the hallway light beams through. He pauses in the midst of drying his hair with a towel, letting it bunch and hang off his neck as he cautiously pushes the door open. Keiji notices your even breathing and how much more relaxed you look in sleep. You’re curled up on your side with the blanket pulled up to your face and he can’t lie: it’s adorable and cute, and he shouldn’t really be thinking these things.

He sits on the edge of the bed in the little space that’s provided, lithe fingers reaching out to brush back a few stray wisps of your hair. Watching you sleep pulls him back into a fond memory he’s kept of the two of you, one that might’ve held very little significance to you but meant something so much more to him. He knows you know him well, he knows how much his mother babbles on about him, and adults were more prone to gossip than the rowdiest of teenagers – he’d be painfully oblivious if he didn’t think you knew that much about him, or more than the average friend.

But it’s comforting to him, sometimes. Knowing you, how kindly you think of others, he might not have to explain what he’s feeling in the moment. You would be able to know, and that soothes him to some degree.

Maybe he had a little bit too much wine as well, but ever so subtly, motions steady and unhurried, he deftly leans closer and closer until his lips brush the apple of your cheek. He lingers for no more than a few seconds and sits back up, gazing at you before standing. His hands adjust the blankets and make sure you’re properly tucked in. He pads away, shutting the door behind him as quietly as possible as to not wake you.

And when he’s found a comfortable position on the futon with his most comfortable throw blanket, he realizes, begrudgingly, that this week will fly by too fast for his liking.  

[searenbound]

As early said, here’s three sets of head canons from the old blog for my babies that I so lovingly edited together for you all to enjoy

Warnings: swearing, sexual activity, omegaverse

Pairings: Shouto Todoroki x reader, Izuku Midoriya x reader, Katsuki Bakugou x reader

Todoroki

- Let’s be honest here poor baby wouldn’t be allowed to behave like an Omega at home

- Endeavor would probably see it as shameful for his ‘perfect creation’ to be an Omega rather than an Alpha

- He would absolutely attempt to gain his Alpha’s attention as soon as realized he liked her

- Both as an act of defiance and genuine interest

- He wouldn’t really know how to get her to court him at first

- Just kinda leaves his stuff where she’ll find them in hopes that she’ll get the hint and scent the item(s) for him

- “Oh hey! Todoroki-kun! You left your sweater behind when we were studying, sorry about the smell I kinda got my scent on it by accident” “That’s alright, I like your scent” “I, ahem… I could um s-scent more things for you if you want?”

- When it comes to nesting, he’s kinda lost

- He wasn’t allowed to make nests at home so even though the instinct and desire to build them is there he has no clue how to act on it

- When he starts feeling more comfortable in their relationship, he’d ask her for help

- He knows Alphas don’t nest like Omegas, but he figures that if he’s going to ask someone it should be the other person who’ll spend time in it

- Her advice is to find a place that makes him feel safe and secure and just let his instincts do the rest

- And that’s how she ended up with her Omega’s nest inside of her closet

- “(Yn)? Have you seen- why are you in the closet?” “My Omega demanded I take a nap with him and I’m in capable of telling him no” “But, why yo-?” “His nest is in here” “Wh-” “I’d like to repeat, I am incapable of telling Shouto no”

-Despite her obvious claim over her Omega, there’s still gonna be other’s who disrespect their relationship, which brings us to jealousy and of course it goes both ways

- He thinks it’s really cute when she gets jealous

- She doesn’t usually get possessive just agitated that someone would even think they had a shot at him

- When she does get possessive though, oh boy

- There’s a part of him that gets really excited

- She’s shorter than he is so she’ll tug on him until his face is buried in her neck and start scenting him

- Normally he isn’t into PDA but something about his Alpha making sure everyone around had no doubts about who’s Omega he is just so hot to him

- “He’s mine and I have no problem kicking in your teeth if that’s what gets it into your thick skull"

- When an Omega starts trying to flirt with her, he doesn’t usually care

- She’s really good at shutting them down quickly so he just lets her handle it

- On the off chance that the other Omega is still being pushy is when he gets mad

- He’ll stand behind her and stare them down until they get the hint and leave

- If that doesn’t work, he’ll get aggressively affectionate and demand to go back to his nest and be scented

- He doesn’t feel like getting into a physical fight, so his goal is to make them as uncomfortable as possible

- If it still doesn’t work well rip to the poor fool who that it was a good idea to still try to take his Alpha away after he literally begged to be scented

- “Alpha let’s go, if we stay any longer, I might hurt someone”

Midoriya

- One of the most sought-after Omega in Yuuei

- It’s rare for an Omega to get into the hero course and even rare for them to actually become a hero

- But there’s Baby boy doing his damnedest to become a great hero and that’s interesting to most Alphas

- He didn’t need to pursue an Alpha they just flocked to him much to his frustration

- Started being interested in his Alpha because she didn’t make such a big deal of him being an Omega

- “Why are you guys so weird about him? Yeah, he’s an Omega and that’s cool and all, but he came here for the same reason the rest of us did and shouldn’t be treated like some trophy to be won” “But you’re trying to court him to” “That’s because he’s already mine, fuck off”

- He didn’t realize she was trying to court him

- He just kind assumed she was just being nice to him

- He’s not going to complain

- Is just kinda like ‘I guess I have an Alpha now, that’s cool!’

- He’s constantly asking her to scent stuff for him

- His nest has so many scented items that it barely even smells like him and he loves it

- Has been caught rolling around in it because he missed her, and this was easier then seeking her out to ask to be scented

- “What are you doing Omega?” “O-oh, I uh I missed you and my nest smells like you so…” “Izuku Baby, I’m going to need you to stop being so cute, it makes me really want to give you some pups and we’re still too young for that” “H-huh?!”

-Jealousy isn’t the hugest problem, but it definitely happens more often than either cares for

-Like I said earlier he’s a really sought-after Omega, so he has someone trying to take him away from her every other day

- Nothing less than bonding him proper will get them to completely stop

- It’s annoying for both of them

- Like he’s practically smothered in her scent, but he’ll still has to tell others to back off because she’s his Alpha

- When she gets fed up with his so-called suitors, she’ll get really possessive

- She’ll wrap her arms around his waist from behind and bite down on his scent gland

- Not hard enough to bond him but enough to make a very clear point

- "He already told you to stop, you should listen to him because I’ve got no problem with showing you he’s mine”

- When he gets jealous it’s really cute

- It doesn’t happen often since he has that reputation of being a prized Omega

- Most don’t bother with trying to tempt his Alpha but when they do, he gets huffy

- She’d never stray from him but since she thinks it’s cute when he pouts, she won’t stop the other Omega right away

- She won’t flirt back of course, she’s just ignoring them really but that never seems to be enough of a hint

- He’ll literally just drag her off without a word until they get to his nest

- “You’re so mean, you should have told them to stop (Yn)!”

Bakugou

- She didn’t court him he courted her

- As soon as he noticed her that was it

- That was his Alpha and any other Omega who was interested could fuck right off

- Was genuinely worried that he might be too aggressive of an Omega for her

- Tried to tone it down and act more like a traditional Omega in hopes that she’d pay more attention to him

- Turns out she was into the whole feisty ‘Fuck you, you’re my Alpha now’ attitude he had

- “Why are you being so weird? You’re acting like-” “Like an Omega shou-” “Not my Omega! Mine’s a little shit who keeps stealing all my good hoodies because he thinks I don’t notice and that’s exactly the way I want him! How I want you!” “I- wait what do you mean I’m a little shit?!” “That’swhat you choose to focus on?!”

- Ok he’s obviously not your average Omega but he has the strongest nesting urges out of these three

- Tries to claim he doesn’t nest though

- That clearly carefully constructed pile of soft things tucked away in the corner of his room is just a pile of shit he hasn’t put away

- So, what if he likes to put things, he’s gotten from her in that pile?

- It’s also a coincidence that it just happens to be big enough for both of them to comfortably lay in it together

- He just happens to like cuddling her in it, but doesn’t make it a nest, damnit!

- “You know it natural for you to make a nest, right? You don’t have to be so embarrassed by it” “Fuck off, it’s not a nest” “Katsu, we’re literally laying in it right now, do you really expect me to believe that this is just a random pile of stuff?” “It’s not a nest! One more word and I’ll kick you out of it!” “If it’s not a nest and just a pile then how are you gonna kick me out?” “I swear to- oh fuck off!”

-Jealousy is very surprisingly not a problem here at all and it amazes everyone around them

- She never gets jealous over him

- She doesn’t have to because he handles it himself when others try anything

- He gets genuinely offended by other Alphas trying to court him

- They tend to be interested in trying to ‘tame’ him and he ain’t putting up with that

- Not when his Alpha already treats him so well and loves him the way he is

- when he gets tiered of a particularly stubborn Alpha, he’ll stomp over to her and cling to her side

- “You fucking see this?! This is my Alpha! I don’t fucking need your shitty ass when I already have the best damn Alpha, shithead!”

- She also handles it herself when Omegas come onto her

- He would get jealous if it wasn’t for how she handles it

- She gets mad and disgusted that they even attempted to approach her

- Tells them off right away

- He thinks it’s really hot that she gets so defensive on his behalf and so mean about it too

- One of the only times he’ll call her Alpha in public

- It’s also something that makes him really consider giving her a few pups like right that moment

- “You, annoying little bitch! You have some nerve thinking you could take my Omega’s place! Look at him, why would you think I would want you over him?”

-Ok, so I didn’t really know how to include the head canons about their heats in a cohesive way so I decided to stick them right at the end because I want them with the other head canons

Todoroki

- Baby boy is a bit clingy even when he’s not in heat so once he is?

- Oh boy

- He’s so needy and it’s really cute ok?

- He pretty much needs to be in constant physical contact or he starts to panic a little

- He hates that he clings to her like that because he thinks it’s embarrassing

- He really can’t help it though

- He’s been on strong suppressants pretty much since he first presented

- As a result the heats he did experience were intense and lonely until he was with her

- She’s the first and only Alpha he’s ever trusted enough to be around him and take care of him during his heat and he can’t stand the idea of her not being right there within his reach

- He eventually decides to stop taking suppressants

- He trusts her to take care of him and wants to experience everything he can with her and this was no exception in his eyes

Midoriya

- She might as well permanently move into his nest because she’s not leaving it anytime soon

- He has stupidly high stamina and an even higher sex drive

- Baby has always had heats intense enough to throw any interested Alpha into a rut when they get a whiff of him

- So she’s understandably possessive and protective during the days leading up to and during his heat

- He loves it

- Loves that she’s protective and won’t let anyone to get close to him

- It makes him feel spoiled and like she puts him on a pedestal

- Though it is little troublesome when she starts picking fights because some Alphas can’t respect that they’re mates

- He gets it, but he’d rather have her fucking him instead of having to stop her from fucking others up

Bakugou

- The neediest fucking brat oh my God

- Will drag her off to his nest and then act like he isn’t in the middle of his heat and doesn’t need to be fucked

- Will try to deny that he’s in heat and gets huffy when she presses the matter

- Really, he just wants her to be more assertive

- Just really wants his Alpha to put some effort into trying to take care of him

- It makes him feel desirable and like he has her wrapped around his fingers

- We all know it’s the other way around but just let him have this, it means a lot to him

- Once he gives into his heat, he’s so whiny

- Begs for her to lavish him in attention

- Doesn’t matter what type of attention she gives him as long as she’s catering to his every whim and desire

- He’s so loud to, no one has any doubt about what they’re doing

[my-simp-land]

Setting Boundaries

Lately, I've been having trouble setting boundaries in my own life, so I felt inspired to write this where there is a happy ending and not just stifling tension in the house. I hope this helps someone in need. You can do it bb. We have to take care of ourselves :)

Lucifer x reader/mc

Fluff with angst. Happy ending

1997 words

Since moving into the House of Lamination and getting to know the brothers, it was obvious that Lucifer was the main caregiver in the house. His approach was more business than affectionate, but that’s okay; that’s where I come in. In the beginning, I would try to help Lucifer directly by helping him with his paperwork or running errands for him. I quickly realized that keeping his brothers out of trouble or solving the problem before it got to him helped him far more than organizing his filing cabinets.

The new chain of authority quickly became accepted within the House of Lamination. Mammon had me on speed dial, so my D.D.D. was constantly ringing off the hook. The other brothers were nice about it though. It gave them a chance to open up about more problems without worrying about the stress and reaction it would cause.

The House of Lamination, and in turn the RAD campus, changed overnight. The student council’s relationship had drastically improved, and anyone could see it. Other demons began to come to me with their problems. I made a drop box where anyone could write their problems or thoughts and submit them. Lucifer bequeathed me a bulletin board where I could answer some of the simpler questions, but I had a column in the school newspaper where I wrote about other, more complex problems. My peers began to say I was an angel with a demon’s perspective. The blessing, or curse, of being a human, I guess

***

Everything was working out for Lucifer. With your help, he had so much more time to complete his tasks but also give himself the basic care he needed. The house was clean. His brothers didn’t run to him with their every problem. School was becoming the campus Diavolo imagined it to be. What could go wrong? Well, a lot could go wrong actually. Very easily. He just had to keep his watchful eye and stop it before it went too far.

***

A few months into my new councilor position, I began to feel the effects of my work. The world around me was on the up and up, but I was so tired. I was so exhausted, physically and mentally. It took hours to come up with some of these responses, and I was so focused on other’s needs that I began to neglect my own. Usually I went home to my room to work on my responses in private, but today, for some reason, I decided to stay in the student council room. Other members came in and out working on their own projects, exchanging pleasantries, but eventually, all became quiet. It was just me and my melted down iced coffee.

I watched the condensation run down the side of my cup as I thought of a good way to respond to this problem. How does one properly discuss their boundaries with the ones they love? I had plenty of answers, but I couldn’t think of one that I had actually used.

“MC? You’re still here. We were looking all over for you.” Lucifer.

“Oh. Uh- sorry Lucifer. I guess I just got so caught up in writing that I lost track of time I guess.” He walked over and peered over my shoulder at the paper before me. We sat there in silence for a moment before he spoke.

“So, how would you solve that problem?”

How would I solve speaking about boundaries? That's a great question, Lucifer. I’ve only been thinking about that for the last two hours.

“I’m not sure. I always try to put myself in the demon’s shoes, but it just isn’t working this time. I have plenty of hypotheticals but nothing I can solidly say would help.”

He hums in reaction and walks around the table to take his seat. Across from me, his red eyes peer into mine. We stare at each other for moments before I look back down at my paper. I can still feel his eyes locked onto me. I can’t imagine what’s going through his head. Is he trying to solve the problem? Is he thinking about replacing me? Am I becoming another problem to him?

“What if I told you I submitted that problem?”

What. Lucifer...submitting a problem...to me? I didn’t think he’d have problems with the brothers occupied. Sure, I would have to drag Mammon into his office when the problem was bigger than I was, and sometimes I would give him some insight onto the student’s thoughts. But Lucifer didn’t have any real problems. He was the Morningstar. He can do basically anything that he wants.

“Well, um- I...I guess I would ask for more context since you’re here.”

“I only wrote that. How would you answer that?”

So...so...ugh.

“I guess I would try to go to a private place with them. Make sure it’s the right time to bring it up. I wouldn’t want them to already be in a bad mood or be taken by something else. I would try to be comfortable with them. Not come off as aggressive or manipulative. Oh idk.”

I sigh and place my head between my hands. “Usually I set boundaries in the moment. It’s just a ‘I didn’t like that and would appreciate it if you didn’t do that again,’ but this leaves so many possibilities.”

I carry on with my thoughts in my head before Lucifer interrupts. “Carry on with what you were saying before.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to beat around the bush, but I wouldn’t want to be harsh. It’s a fine line to walk. Simple sentences. ‘I don’t appreciate this’ or ‘It makes me upset when you do this’ then I would follow it up with ‘I would be grateful if you were to refrain from that behavior’ or something similar. Just straight to the point but not pointing fingers at them. Don’t condemn them. Either they would agree or deny to change. If they agree, I would thank them for understanding and change the subject. If they deny, I would really set the boundary. I would tell them that I won’t be around someone who does that and would separate until they change or we meet a compromise or it could just be over. Sometimes it isn’t that easy. There’s more conversation where a compromise is made.”

“But what if they ask why?”

“I would explain. ‘I don’t like the way it makes me feel’ or ‘I don’t want to see you, someone else be hurt.’ Honesty is key. I wouldn’t see it as a defiance, but a way to understand you better.”

Lucifer reaches across the table and takes my hands. “It makes me upset when you exhaust yourself and neglect yourself because of your tasks. I would appreciate it if you let me take care of things again, so you can take care of yourself again.”

I shoot out of my seat, ripping my hands from his. “That is not an option, Lucifer. I’m helping and mending relationships; not only between humans and demons but demons and demons. I also can’t leave you to handle everything again. I set the boundary of me between you and the Devildom. I don’t appreciate it when you neglect your own problems for others!”

He sighs and pinches his brow. “Doll, I’ve done this for centuries now. You’ve given me a great vacation. The best one I’ve ever had, but it’s time for me to take back over now. I can’t let you run yourself into the ground and say I’m doing my job of watching over you.”

I press my hands into the table. “I will not let you handle everyone’s problems again. I refuse. I’m helping you by carrying some of the weight.” We sit in silence staring at each other before I speak again. “Is this because of your pride? I promise you that no one sees me as better than you. We’re not even in the same league. You do much greater things than I do. I’m just a post-it note therapist. I’m just a sounding board for my peers. You help run, not only a school, but an entire kingdom just because you’re friends with the crown prince. You deserve more, and you know i-”

“That’s enough!” He flew out of his seat and slammed his palms on the table. We were face to face; our breath running across the other’s face. “You will not carry on with your little crisis hotline if you’re going to neglect yourself.”

“I won’t give you an ounce of this weight back if you are going to neglect yourself.”

“I forbid it!”

“You might think you have some chokehold on me like you do your brothers, but you’re not stopping me from doing what I want. I’m solving problems; not causing them!”

“You are causing problems! Problems with me! You aren’t taking care of yourself!”

“Well you weren’t either when they were your problems!”

“I’m allowed to do that!”

“Like hell you are. I care too much to see you passed out in your office or turning to the bottle! As long as I can do something, I will!”

I could stare into his eyes to see the storm brewing within. He wants to say more, but his pride is holding him back. He wants it his way, but I won’t allow it. I can’t. What will he do? Will he run to Diavolo for some special permission to get me to stop? Will he tear down my board? Remove me from the school newspaper?

“I care about you too. More than I let on.” The energy in the room immediately shifts. No longer is it an argument; but a conversation. “Just as it hurt you to see me in pain, it hurts me. I cannot let you carry on this way”

My mind goes into autopilot. I take a step closer to him. My arms find their way around his torso. His circle me. I bring my head to his neck. We stand there for a few minutes, thinking of responses, enjoying the other’s care.

“So you know why I can’t give it all back to you?”

He gives me a squeeze. “Yes.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Well, what a pickle we’re in.” He laughs.

As we stand there, clinging to each other, we think. We both know it can’t carry on like this. I breathe him in. My mind eases.

“You could find some of your other friends to help. Maybe give them some sample questions to solve or just someone to help you write.” I nod into his neck.

“I can still help with your brothers. Maybe we could learn from this and set some boundaries with them.” He nods. “That sounds wonderful.”

I pull myself back just enough to look up at his face. “I’ll give you my word to take care of myself. To step back when I need it, whether it’s me who decides or you, and vice versa with you.”

“I give you my word.” “And I give you mine.”

All tension is gone from the room. We smile at each other, relishing in the fact that neither of us will be hurting anymore. “May I kiss you?” “Yes.”

His lips fall down to mine. They’re soft against mine. They move with the same grace as he does, but they’re confident. He pulls me flush against his body. The kiss maybe lasted a minute or two, but I felt like it lasted a lifetime. We moved in complete agreement. Where he ended, I began. Where I ended, he began. It was like we became one heart.

I had to pull away to fill my lungs. “Well, it didn’t go like I said, but I hope I helped you with your problem.

Lucifer’s head fell back with laughter. Not a brief chuckle but real, full belly laughter. “I’d say it did. Thank you, doll.”

P.s. I fully believe Satan heard the argument and seeing MC coming out the student council room and he was fully like "how did they not die?"

[gallavictorious]

How do you think the conversation went when Mickey slept in Ian’s bed for the first time in s4? Maybe just a late night and Mickey passed out? Or the hard floor was just too uncomfortable. That seemed like a drastic decision because it made Carl instantly ask if it meant Ian and Mickey might be in love. Like Carl went straight to the idea of love so he must have noticed they were in a relationship before seeing Mickey sleeping in Ian’s bed. It kind of confirmed for the gallaghers something was going on between them.

I had such fun thinking about this, nonnie, so thank you so much for this delightful ask! <3 <3 <3 (It also “forced” me to re-watch their season 4 Gallagher house scenes, and that is never, ever a hardship. XD) In the end, this is probably one of those situations where I could see it go any of several ways and I don’t actually have a firm headcanon about it. But as far as possibilities go, I’m reasonably fond of this fairly understated version:

After they suck dick and make up there's no more talk about Ian going back with Mickey to the Milkovich house. They both realize that not sharing a home with Mickey's very pregnant and threatening wife is probably a good idea – plus Ian's siblings might well have a bunch of questions about it if they do and while Ian's ready and willing to answer them, Mickey... is not. So he crashes on the the floor and Lip's not thrilled but no one else gives much of a damn because they're well used to all sorts of people coming and going; friends, relatives, partners, whoever Frank dragged home... It's no biggie. Mickey helps with money and stuff, and is no more annoying than anyone else they know.

Ian and Mickey sneak kisses and blow each other and bang whenever they get the chance, and hang out and chat and banter whenever they don't. At night Ian climbs into his bed, and Mickey gets as comfortable as he can on the floor. They don't talk about Svetlana or the baby or the status of their relationship, but that's okay (for a while). They've been seperated for too long; for now they'll take whatever they can of touches and time together, and be glad of it.

And they are glad; Mickey is, and Ian is, too.

Only...

Only there was that night at the loft party, the one that ended with Ian and Mickey falling asleep next to each other on a pull-out couch because Mickey was drunk enough and tired enough that he didn't protest when Ian said that they should stay because everyone else is, that's how Ryan's parties usually go actually, 'sides it's fucking cold outside, Mick, and look, the couch pulls out, it's really comfortable, I swear, I've slept on it before, c'mon.

It was only the second time they've ever shared a bed, and even though they barely even touched Ian can't quite stop thinking about it; how nice it was, and how he'd like to do it again, and do it properly. (And yeah, of course Mickey's thinking about it too, but he doesn't allow himself to linger on it; he's never been as quick as Ian to entertain notions of what could be and what would be really fucking awesome if.)

But then there's another night, a day or a week or two later. Ian's been working, Mickey's been watching Ian work, and it's late when they stumble through the front door. Liam and Carl are fast asleep in their beds, soundly enough that our boys dare go for a quick, quiet round of rolling in the sheets. (I mean, they obviously had sex at whatever halfway private spot they could find at the club once Ian finished his shift, but they're young and horny and very much in love and that was like half an hour ago, so.)

Once they're done and have taken a moment or two to recover and maybe bask just a little, Mickey sits up, ready to climb out of bed. Ian is still on his back, but his eyes follow Mickey's every move.

On an impulse, he says: ”You don't have to sleep on the floor, you know.”

Mickey's eyesbrows rise dramatically as he glances back at Ian. ”Yeah? What about your siblings, huh? Don't think they gonna fucking wonder if they find us spooning in the morning?”

They already know, Ian doesn’t say, even though it's true. They know, or they suspect – but that’s another thing that can’t be talked about. Plausible deniability. So important to Mickey, still, and Ian can't deny him that, not yet (though there's a nagging voice in the back of his head telling him that he's sick and tired of living a fucking lie, and that voice is growing louder by the day).

“They won’t give a fuck,” he says instead, and that too is true. Fiona would have asked once, but now she’s busy with her own shit; Debbie too, and Liam’s too young and Lip already knows. Carl… well, who the fuck knows about Carl. ”If they ask, we'll just tell them you have a bad back.”

It's a shit excuse, and they both know it. But it is an excuse, and maybe that's all that they need; all Mickey needs.

Still, he looks away. ”Your bed's fucking tiny, man.”

Getting up on one elbow, Ian catches his eye; stares him right in it. ”Guess we gonna have to get pretty close then.”

Mickey's lips twist and Ian knows him well enough to know that it's not disgust or reluctance; it's Mickey struggling with the idea of how much he wants this – how good the idea of getting close sounds to him. Also, it's Mickey reacting to the challenge in Ian's voice, because he's always been shit at backing down from those – which Ian damned well knows; it's not like he said what he said by accident.

”Fuck you,” Mickey says at length. He, too, knows what Ian is doing. Still, he doesn't move to get back on the floor; he simply leans down to grab the pillow and his blanket, and then shuffles to lie down next to Ian, on his side and with his back turned towards the other boy.

Because of that, he can't see the way Ian's face lights up with a smile that is equal parts awed and triumphant and soft as he slowly eases back down onto the mattress, shuffling back a little to make room.

Ian doesn't wrap his arms around Mickey; he doesn't press a kiss to his neck; they don't quite spoon. (They won't, not until a night not very far from now, when they're both bloody and broken and so very, very happy.) But they're there, together, sharing space and sharing heat, and though they don't cling to one other, they still touch; the bed really is too small to allow for anything else – and they are both thankful for it.

---

If anyone reading this has other ideas, I would really, really love to hear them, so please don’t be shy about sharing (or about reccing me fic or meta that deal with this issue)!

[doc-pickles]

that was our place, I found it first

in which alex and jo both struggle with their new realities and that overwhelming sense of deja vu....

hey hi hello this isn’t new (it’s been on AO3 for a hot minute) but I hadn’t shared it here so enjoy. and everyone say thank you to olivia rodrigo.

It’s three weeks into his stay in Kansas when the weight of his new reality hits him square in the chest. He’d wrangled both kids inside and sent them to wash up, quickly changing out of his scrubs before meeting Eli, Alexis, and Izzie at the dinner table. He’s about to ask how the day has been for everyone but he’s stopped dead in his tracks, the words slipping from his mind.

“Hey, you're invited to Mer's for Thanksgiving.”

“Really?”

“I'm invited and, uh, I'm bringing you.”

“The attendings are gonna be weird if I'm there.”

“No, they're not.”

“Just go without me. We'll meet up after.”

“You think I wanna be there if you're not.”

“You're sweet.”

“Okay, screw it. How about we get takeout chicken and eat it in the car like we were raised to do?”

“I think I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, settle down.”

The sound of his daughter’s voice brings Alex back to the present, eyes moving from the platter of fried chicken in the center of the table to Alexis who’s staring at him in confusion. He quickly plasters a smile on his face, making a joke at his daughter’s expense that makes both children giggle loudly. Dinner passes by quickly and soon both kids are off to bed, visions of a bright eyed brunette intern closing Alex’s mind as he cleans the kitchen.

+

“Auntie Jo!”

The exclamation from Zola sends all three Grey Shepherd kids hurtling across the room to wrap their arms around Jo’s legs. Struggling to keep her balance, Jo let out a laugh as she listened to each child bombard her with questions. She hadn’t seen them for almost two months so the attack was unavoidable but not unwanted as she let the kids contagious joy bring a wide smile to her face.

“Hey, glad you could make it,” Link appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, Scout wriggling in his arms. “I’m not much of a cook but there’s fresh coffee and donuts. I got them from that place that’s on...”

Link’s voice faded out as Jo’s eyes settled on the pink bakery box behind him, the children clinging to her forgotten as her mind drifted.

“Cheers to an incredible day. You deserve it. Actually, I helped, too. So cheers to us.”

“Hey, powdered sugar's your favorite.”“Yeah, no. This is great. Thanks.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“So it’s been a long morning around here,” Link, oblivious to the far off look in Jo’s eyes, finished his thought off before turning back to his friend. “Can I get you some coffee? You look tired, no offense.”

Jo nodded her head, shaking off the last foggy visions of the supply closet from her mind as she hoisted Ellis onto her hip, “Coffee sounds perfect, thanks Link.”

+

“You know, maybe we should just head down to the courthouse, make things official.”

Alex’s head snapped up from the bowl of cereal in front of him, eyes wide as he stared at Izzie who was packing lunches for Eli and Alexis. Her comment was nonchalant, eyes not even leaving the lunch bags in front of her as she continued the thought.

“It might make things easier than going through a big fuss, plus it’s close to the hospital so it wouldn’t be super out of the way,” Izzie finally looked at Alex who was staring at her in shock still. “What do you think?”

“I don’t even know if my divorce has gone through yet, I think getting married is jumping the gun a bit Iz,” Alex forced the words out of his mouth, heart pounding loudly as Izzie began to laugh. “What? What’s so funny?”

“I meant go down to the courthouse to get you on the kids paperwork,” Izzie stifled another laugh as Alex let out a breath of relief, his heart rate coming down significantly. “Geez, what kind of backwoods tacky idea is a courthouse wedding anyways?”

Alex’s mind began to drift as visions of vampire teeth and fake blood on a day not too long ago filled his mind.

“For better or worse...”

“For better or worse.”

"...for richer or poorer...”

“For richer or... pregnant.”

“What?”

“I'm pregnant.... Ha! Scared you! I got you so good.”

“Wait. You're not pregnant?”

“No. Oh, my God, you should've seen your face.”

“... so I told Jenny we’d swing by around 8,” Izzie looks expectantly to Alex, who’s coming out of his mental dog and still staring into his cereal bowl. “Alex? You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” his eyes flit to the living room where Eli and Alexis are playing a game, loud peels of laughter coming from them. His heart twisted for a moment, picturing Jo between the two children playing along with them as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Yeah I’m good.”

+

“You’re just the cutest baby in the whole wide world aren’t you,” Jo’s voice was a soft coo as she rocked a drowsy Scout in her arms, the loud voices of his cousins outside drowned out as they stood in the living room. “You’re gonna be handsome just like your daddy and so smart like your mama. I don’t know what those two are gonna do with you.”

“You’re a natural you know,” Jo’s head popped up, meeting Amelia’s gaze as she leaned against the doorframe of the living room. “He won’t even fall asleep for Maggie.”

“Well Auntie Jo just has the magic touch,” Jo pressed a finger against Scout’s cheek, the infant curling closer to the new source of warmth. “Maybe that’s why OB sounds so appealing, all the babies I get to hold and love on since I’m clearly not having any of my own anytime soon.”

A low chuckle left Amelia as she crossed the room and grabbed Scout from Jo, the little boy nuzzling into his mother’s chest contentedly, “Don’t count yourself out. I wouldn’t put it past you to become a mom sooner rather than later.”

Jo watched Amelia walk towards Scout’s room, her mind thinking back to a time when having her own kids wasn’t just a far off dream.

“I'm ready. I mean, let's do it. Let's make a baby, right now.”

“Are you out of your mind? We’re not having a baby!”

“I want to have kids with you. I love how much you care for Kimmie, and it really makes me want to have kids with you. And if it's okay with you, I would really like to take your last name. Because I've never had the last name of anyone who's loved me.”

“I'm sorry I talked about kids on our honeymoon. It was stupid. It was just... you were talking about the future and snow stuff, and it just popped into my head. Like, I could see our kids playing in the snow, having fun, which is... You know, kids, snow. It makes sense.”

“Alex, shut up, please. I-I have an idea, a big idea, and I love you, and I will love all of our children, or at least one child eventually.”

“We're in the baby hat place? Are you pregnant and you didn't tell me?”

“She asked me if we wanted kids, and I said yes because we do. And she's making the hats extra big because I had an extra big head.”

The thoughts in her head overwhelm Jo, heart beating erratically as she collapses onto the couch in a fit of tears she hadn’t realized were falling. Eventually Amelia comes back, silently bringing Jo into her embrace as her tears fall. She doesn’t know how long she sits there crying, begging any higher being that would listen for Alex to come back so they could have the family they so desperately wanted.

+

“There’s a storm brewing! Expect two to three days of nonstop rain and wind in the North Eastern Kansas area, this storm is not letting up.”

Alex’s eyes floated to the window of his office, the news report blaring from his laptop fading as he focused on the rain hitting the glass. He’d lived in Seattle for a large majority of his life, he should be more than used to the sight of rain. Instead though the water dripping down reminded him of another storm years earlier, a storm that changed his life.

“Listen, I have to tell you something.”

“No, you don't.”

“You don't even know what I'm gonna say.”

“I think I do, and you shouldn't.”

“Jo…”

“I'll mess it up, Alex. I mess everything good in my life up, and... we work as friends really well, and... and I don't wanna mess that up.”

“You won't mess anything up.”

The memory fades from his mind as a knock sounds on the door of his office, one of his attendings hurtling questions at him a mile a minute. Jo’s bruised face and beaming smile haunt his thoughts for the rest of the day though, the feeling of her lips on his haunting him as he attempted to keep his head screwed on straight.

+

“Watch out Seattle! Another super soaker is in the area. Local officials are advising everyone to stay off the roads until this storm passes. If you have an emergency or need to leave…”

“Great, we’re going to get the whole of Seattle’s dumbasses in the ER tonight,” Bailey’s voice broke Jo out of her trance as she stared at the TV in the attendings lounge, fingers absentmindedly twisting the necklace around her neck. “Wilson, keep an eye on the NICU for me. If the power goes out we’ll need to keep an eye on those babies.”

Jo nodded, leaving the lounge in a daze as her mind brought up her first Seattle superstorm and a night not unlike tonight that changed everything.

“Last night, before the tree, you asked me a question. You wanted to hear me say the words. So I'm... Saying them right now.”

“I don't hear anything.”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, but…”

“I'm... I'm serious.”

“Fine.”

“I love you.”

The words still echoed around her, the storm drowned out by the look on Alex’s face as they finally shared a kiss that felt like it was years in the making. That night changed everything for them, it started them off on a crazy eight year rollercoaster that despite its tragic ending Jo wouldn’t change for the world. As she walked the halls of Grey Sloan she was reminded of countless memories between them, their whole relationship playing out in the hallways of this hospital. A light feeling settled in Jo’s chest, the memories for once bringing a smile to her face instead of sending her into a crying fit. Maybe that dreaded sense of deja vu wasn’t always a bad thing…

[honestsycrets]

What She Really Wants X: What Really Matters

❛ pairing | hvitserk x reader

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | hvitserk has a way of getting what he wants. magnus is sick of being one-upped.

❛  tags | verbal arguments, wedding oriented, referenced underage sex, referenced sexual interaction, underage relationships, original characters.

❛ sy’s notes | i've actually had this fic done for some months and totally forgot about it until i was in my drive. thank you @chibisgotovalhalla​ for making me feel good enough to post this. It’s more a connecting chapter.

What Magnus hates about Hvitserk (aside from everything) is how whatever he said, went with you. 

The world could crumble, pebbles could shake boulders on your house, and you would still have Hvitserk on your mind. Because he was your first-- and no one could beat a first. No matter how he worked or raged for a new beginning or for better for Mads. It was still Hvitserk at the end of the day. Mads’s eyes had almost popped out of his skull when Magnus joined the clustered group of friends and parents. It hadn’t gone unnoticed. 

“What did I miss?” he asks because he knows Mads by the expression slapped over his face. That boy has been like his son. He raised him. Loved him. 

“Nothing,” Mads quips quickly, snapping his head back around to the field. His coach howls something long and loud. Mads jabs his finger in that direction. “The game is about to start. C’mon Soren.” 

Despite the fact that Magnus knew there was a certain something very wrong, he didn’t speak as you returned to a very familiar set of bleachers alongside Mad’s new girlfriend. She was pretty. There was a soft and innocent glitter behind those big brown eyes that reminds him of a simpler time in yours. He makes a note to ask Mads after the game all about her when Hvitserk stops on the uppermost stair, guiding you in after Alaia. 

It’s not until they sit, and your hand is laced in Hvitserk’s, does he notice the gems glistening on your finger. 

“What’s that?” he asks, leaning over Alaia’s lap. The girl squints at the rings too, watching it glisten, and smiles when she realizes that she’s forgotten to say something. She speak words that make his stomach drop. As if someone had hauled him off to sea, strapped that very same boulder shook loose by his crumbling world, and threw him out into the deep sea. He was drowning and couldn’t find a way out.

“Oh my god! Congratulations on your engagement, mama,” she beams. “Can I see the ring?” 

Magnus sputters. He’s caught between your jovial smile and Hvitserk’s smug smirk as his eyes burned into the glittering gem. Hvitserk’s hand leaves yours, taking a drink of the metal tumbler that he brought with him as if that would draw attention away from what he’s done this time. 

“There’s two?” Alaia asks.”Papa you didn’t. You’ve gone so far!”

Hviserk chuckles and swashing alcohol between his cheeks before swallowing the spicy liquid. 

“We were engaged in high school. Hvitserk thought I should wear both.” 

“Gonna put that money to use,” Hvitserk mutters, the faint scent of yeasty alcohol on his breath kissing your cheeks. He looks out to the field and catches Mads sheepishly waving. He waves back. “Been waitin’ to get married to my old lady for years.” 

“It’s going to be so great,” she claps her hands together. “I’m happy for you.”

The field cheers through the end of the national anthem. Two dozen players jog onto the grassy stage, flicking the ball between their feet. Go Mads, go! Alaia squeals until her voice becomes high pitched, grating, and odd. She’s the kind of girl that should be on a cheerleading team, but belongs on the football team. She’s outgoing, witty, and you find you like her. 

For all that screaming, Mads’s team loses 2 to 1. Alaia beats you off the bleachers and zooms down the stairs to find your son. You’re stuck with the impending explosion that has been boiling to ahead all evening. It finally overflows as people filter out of the bleachers like a herd of stampeding cattle. Their loud chatter blocks out the bulk of conversation. 

“You really thought that was a good idea.” Magnus curls his fingers under the cold metal of the bleacher seat. “He hasn’t been back a year and you’re already going to marry him.” 

“What is with you? It is her choice,” Hvitserk interjects. 

“I wasn’t talking to you.” 

“Fuck off, rat faced motherfucker.” Hvitserk snaps. “You don’t know when to quit bitchin’.”

It’s spiraling. You know the men well enough to know when Magnus and Hvitserk are headed for trouble. Hvitserk loves a good fight. He lurches up in his seat, probably ready to chuck him down a few flights of bleacher stairs. You grasp Hvitserk’s hand, settling it on your thigh for to restrain him from doing something that you knew he’d regret. Not for his sake, but Mads. Rather than answer Magnus, you stand up and wipe your skirt down. 

“Mads is waiting. C’mon baby.”

You leave him feeling unheard. In the seventeen years that Mads had been alive, he’d not once felt this way. He had been the father figure here. The one who took the kid out to these father events that you lost with the death of your father and the disappearance of your family from Hvitserk’s clutches.

Then he came back. He gave Magnus that same, age-old shit-eating grin, and disappeared behind you. It wouldn’t have burned so much if he wasn’t at the exact same school of the past. The same one where he got his teeth knocked in-- right here. The bleachers may be different but the area is the same. It’s the same place where everything changed. He sits there long after you’ve disappeared down the steps to meet your son.

“Where’s morbror?” Mads, sweaty and panting, has his hand slung over Alaia’s shoulder.”I thought he was coming for burgers.”

You reach for Hvitserk’s hand and lace his fingers with yours. Hvitserk stands behind you with his hand latched neatly around your waist. He cradles your hip as you come up with the latest of poorly formulated excuses. 

“He has to go to work in the morning, baby.”

Better you lie than Hvitserk. 

 Alaia is way too touchy. 

You recognize it in the way she clings to his arm on one hand and punches him with the other. Whatever the cost was, she had to be touching him. All over him. Not just a little friendly kiss or holding hands, but you know for a damn fact that she strokes his thigh or trails up the taut pale muscles of his flat belly.

“They’re fucking,” you say pointedly. 

Hvitserk throws a look over his shoulder to where they were a few rows down. Alaia slips a salty-sweet strawberry candy between Mads’s lips. Alaia’s other hand is certainly not on her own lap, that’s for sure. 

“Huh?” Hvit says around a half eaten sausage. He takes a swig of his booze, “Ya think?”

You thwack him in the arm and glance at the dark aisle beside you. The movie Mads wanted to watch was old. So much so that the theatre reflected its age. “How is he not fucking her? Hvitserk!”

Hvitserk took a glance down. From what he could tell, Mads was the shy one. He glanced down to what had to be a handsy— because he had plenty of those in his day. 

“Calm down. He ain’t initiating anything.”

“So she’s a predator?” You hiss. 

“C’mon baby, they're the same age.” He says, as if that’s exclusionary, and as if that made any difference in the world. “Ain’t like he’s screamin’ for help.”

There’s a shush— the next few aisles down. 

“Aw, you poutin?” 

No reply. Hvitserk glances toward Mads and Alaia, content with his choice, and slips his hand underneath the lip of your skirt. He considers himself a rather patient man but your worries when all he wanted to do was relax? Na. 

“Hvit stop— We used to be like that. Remember?” Hvitserk cuts you off, rubbing his thumb where he shouldn’t, cutting an outrageous smile. 

“This isn’t about us.”

“Ain’t it?” 

It’s not. The soft tingles of his fingertips, caressing your thighs, runs shivers up your spine. Your hand falls on top of his wrist, holding him firmly where he was. Hvitserk glances down toward his hand, then back up. An easy fix: you loved it when he pressed his lips to your neck. 

“You’re doing it again.” 

Hvitserk’s lips part, broadening his shit eating smile. “Doing what?” 

Oh, he knew what. But he loved being called out for it.

His far isn’t bad at football.

“Fuckin’ what the fuck was that!” 

The ball whizzed into the goal behind him and Mads was left wheezing for breath. Not because he was tired. The old man might only be thirty-six but he sucked at playing against him. Hvitserk plucked up the football between his fingers and spun it over and over between his finger tips. He twisted his head from the goal to the ball in his hands.

“A goal,” Mads gestures. “You know? Or, guess you don’t since you ain’t scored all night.” 

“Shits rigged,” Hvitserk says, dropping the ball and kicking it back to Mads. 

Mads shrugs and suggests, “Should’ve picked something you’re good at. You won’t beat me at this.”

“Tch,” Hvitserk throws his arms behind his head. “I ain’ good at shit.”  

Except maybe selling drugs and chasing prostitutes. All of which his father has made exponentially clear he doesn’t want Mads doing. Mads stops with his sneaker on top of the ball, rolling it up and back, then flicks it between his feet. 

“Have to be good at something. Don’t you have a hobby or something?” 

Hvitserk peels off his white shirt sodden with sweat and uses it to wipe away the moist sweat dribbling past his eyebrow. He gestures his hand to the dark wooden wedding band that was strapped to his finger. The wedding is next week and while he’s not technically married yet, Hvitserk wore it as some sort of unspoken promise.

“My hobby was women. Not allowed to do that shit anymore. Getting married next week, yeah?” 

“Wow, well, uh.” Mads picks up the ball at his feet and searches for words. It’s always nice-- when your own son is amazed at how amazingly shitty of a person you were. Hvitserk chews his cheek, running his thumb along the drawstring at his hips to tighten it up. They walk lazily with one another to start the trek back home. 

“I...” Hvitserk starts. “Liked to paint.”

“Gang signs?” he teases. He imagines his father with a can of spray paint or something-- tagging some poor idiot’s unsuspecting business. 

“Na, women-- like Renoir.” 

“Ren who?” 

“I fuckin’ hope ya ain’t going to France like that,” he tsks his tongue, throwing his hand around Mads’s shoulder, chasing away the thought of the Wolves that were so at the forefront of his mind. “Take a class in French first.” 

“I’m taking Spanish.” 

“Spanish? Wha’s so important about-- oh wait. Fuck,” Hvitserk almost laughs, but it comes with the realization that Mads’s little girlfriend was, in fact, Hispanic. He ruffles Mads’s sweaty hair, shaking loose droplets into the air. “Tha’s my boy.” 

There are moments in which Mads feels like his father’s son.

Today was one of them. 

The date sped up on him faster than it should have.

This time, Hvitserk was insistent: the wedding had to happen as soon as possible. After all, he was thirty-six. He wasn’t going to be a man that was forty and single. No, he wasn’t. Not if he had everything he wanted; a woman and his very own grown-ass son. He had something to prove to that son. That he was serious about his family. 

“What’cha think,” Hvitserk grumbled. His hair, newly cropped short, waved in silky honey waves around the side of his face. His jaw was peppered with a new sort of scruff, worlds apart from his clean-shaven, long-haired past. The suit was slim, crisp, monochrome like you liked it. Better be like you liked it: he wasn’t the type to wear suits for just anyone. His woman? Special exception there.

His son stood back. “Yeah, looks nice.” 

“Yeah?” 

He slipped in front of the mirror and gave himself a once over. He turns the ring on his finger over and over until he has residual finger ring burn. He bites down on his lip, ripping it between his teeth. It wasn’t just saying goodbye to his single man’s life; it was the fact that his remaining brothers were coming. Bjorn, Ivar, and Ubbe. Would Mads like them?

“Where my boots?” 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t anxious. There’s a powerful thud at the door, then another. Booming laughs fill in the hallway just outside the room. Hvitserk exhales strongly. His large hand lands on Mads’s shoulder with a clasp. 

“Those would be your uncles.”

Mads, the little baby, looks panicked as the door cracks open. Ivar knocks open the door, dressed in a deep maroon and black suit. It’s crisp and formed to his chest. You should at least like it-- given the shit that Ivar has given you this year, he looks good. Why would be expect anything less?

“Man c’mon,” Hvitserk rolls his eyes. “Could’ve waited man. My kid--” 

“Why would I wait?” Ivar hums, hobbling forward. “You’ve been keeping my nephew hostage from me. Come here boy.” 

“With good reason,” Sigurd can’t help but to comment. “You don’t really want to know him. He’s a--” 

“Would you both shut up,” Mads hears another man say. He has ruddy hair and a ruddy beard, with sharp blue eyes. He is almost considerate-- if not for the wolfish look in his eyes, he could almost be considered the most placid of the brothers. Instead, he seems to be someone who is always planning. “You’ll scare him away.” 

Hviserk settles a lily in the pocket to his suit and fiddles with the cuffs of his sleeves. Strange, he thinks, how you pick lilies. They’re a bittersweet flower for him to this day. When he bought you flowers, they were roses. Whatever possessed you to chose lilies, he’s not sure. It couldn’t possibly be-- Thora. No, you couldn’t remember her.

“Far,” Mads looks over and pleads for some guidance in those soft, bright eyes of his. His eyes snap toward Ivar’s dragging feet, then the drunken stamped in from huge Bjorn and comparatively more calculated steps from Ubbe. “Help.” 

“What is there to be afraid of, hm?” 

“Go on, go to Ivar.” Hvitserk swings his hands at his hips. Mads looks up the broad body of the blond man and inches toward the darkest haired brother. Probably not the safest of brothers to be speaking to but he’s heard his name multiple times before. Uncle Ivar was scary. And safe. “They won’t hurt you. They’re my brothers.” 

“You want a drink, boy?!” 

“A dr-- drink?”

Hvitserk wonders why he ever thought he could be a Wolf.

Asta has always been supportive. Too supportive. You knew, somewhere inside, she wasn’t happy about your choice to get married to a man that had gotten her into some trouble. Her whole life could have gone down the tubes thanks to him. 

“Are you sure about this?” she said in her slim baby pink maid-of-honor dress. Your hairdresser affixed a soft baby pink pearl pin into your hair. “You can always wait like we said.” 

“Waiting…” You glanced down toward your dress, smoothing out the dress’s slim bodice, leading out into its flowy a-line tulle skirt. Your loved the crisscrossing pearls that formed the straps over your shoulder and connected front and back-- maybe a little sexy for your hypersexual husband-to-be. Everything had gone perfectly. Your make up-- a natural, gentle shimmery pink. Everything was soft and natural, and pretty-- and you were so damn happy. “I’ve been waiting long enough.” 

“I know.” 

“And I want to do it,” you held the bouquet of fresh pink lilies. “I want him.” 

“That’s too much information,” she teases.

The door creaked open behind you. While subconsciously, you knew that it wasn’t him-- you needed to know. “Magnus isn’t coming, is he?” 

“It’s just me, mor.” 

You exhale forcefully. You knew it would be a stretch to ask Magnus to give you away. After what happened to your father, Magnus had agreed to do so with whoever you chose. For sixteen years you banked on that promise. Only now, when it came down to it, he refused to do so. 

“It’s a silly tradition anyway.” 

Asta begins to protest that she can do it when your son, bless him, intervenes by kneeling down by your knee. His large hands overtook yours. Your hairdresser stepped aside after having affixed the veil to the top of your head. Everything had been going so well. Something… had to go wrong, right? That was the way that days went. They could never be absolutely perfect! 

“I’ll do it. I can give you away.”

“You’d do that?” you ask him, unbelievably. You look between Asta-- and Alaia, who looks angelic in a puffy pink dress beside your son. Mads perches kneels beside you, looking like all the man you ever hoped he could be in every sleepless night that you spent up with him as a baby-- wishing that Hvitserk was there. Knowing that your mother said he could never be. 

“But you thought I should wait.” 

“Yeah but; I love you. That’s what matters, right? That you’re happy?” 

That, more than anything, was enough for you. You press back the insistent prick of heat at the corner of your eyes and nod. As you stand up on clumsy metal heels, your boy is there with his hand encouragingly around your waist. Alaia looks for your bouquet of assorted blush and white flowers: lilies.

For a moment-- just a moment, its you and him. No one else matters in the grand scheme of things. He settles the bouquet of flowers between your fingertips, pulling the sheer veil back over your face. “You look… perfect, mor. He’s missing out.” 

“Yeah, that’s what matters, baby.” 

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke​ @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys  @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever @destynelseclipsa @soleil-dor @strangunddurm

[ri-ahhh]

more

You want more from your situation-ship with Grayson, but does he?

5.8k lol so buckle up if you have the time

inspired by this pool floatie I bought a while ago and last Saturday when I got drunk in the pool by myself.

warnings: tiny bit of angst, smut, too much fluff

also I’m sorry if this long ass post clogs you your feed; the website on my laptop never works anymore for some reason so I do everything through mobile and have no idea if/how to put the keep reading thing on here through the app. Pls lmk if you do!

***

Few things in life are more mundane and yet more pleasurable than lying in the sun on a hot, balmy summer’s day. It’s by far one of your favorite pastimes — letting that omnipresent warmth seep into your pores until your skin glows and glistens, waving goodbye to your anxieties as they’re carried away with a cooling breeze, enjoying some time alone to think.

That alone thinking time was much-needed today as you lie back in your pool floatie, drifting gently atop the nearly-still surface of Grayson’s pool. You could have gone to the large communal pool at your apartment complex, or the beach, or even to a less…complicated friend’s house to have your day of thinking in the sun, but there were several factors that played into your choice to come here instead.

Not smart factors, admittedly; was it smart to come to the home of your best friend/fuck buddy to think about maybe telling him that you maybe want more? Fuck no. That’s the problem when you’ve got two voices dueling in your head, though, and one ends up decidedly louder than the other. You’ve got the Rational voice at the back of your mind telling you coming here wasn’t a good idea, that you’re somewhat-inexcusably pissed at him and it isn’t fair to dump that on him without figuring things out before you see him again.

But then you've got the Dumb Bitch voice in the forefront, reasoning that your ‘regular’ friends are simply too busy, your apartment pool is always way too crowded to avoid distractions, and the beach on the weekend has the same issue with the added downside that alcohol is strictly forbidden.

Despite the twins’ dislike of the substance, going without it wasn't an option for you today, and so as you walked out the door of your apartment you had shoved a few cans into your oversized tote bag. You take a satisfying sip of the sponsored drink of all Dumb Bitches everywhere, a lime Whiteclaw, and sigh, relaxing against the raised back of your floatie. You’re grateful for the cold, crisp bubbles tickling the back of your throat as little beads of sweat start to stipple at your temples, and you dip a foot into the water for added coolness. It’s the equivalent of sleeping with one leg under the covers and one out, ensuring your body’s temperature is perfectly balanced as you glide soothingly across the flat surface of the water, your mind wandering.

You like to think whatever you have with Grayson is complicated and dramatic, for the sake of your own rationale, but it’s really not. You started as good friends, which turned into the casual and inevitable flirting that happens when anyone becomes close with the opposite sex, which turned into an unexpected and amazing fuck on his couch one night a few months ago.

Which has turned into: two people who tiptoe around the obvious any time they're together to avoid the messiness that comes with relationships and, ultimately, ruined friendships. It’s obvious to everyone that the two of you care about each other deeply. It’s even obvious to you and Gray yourselves: you’ve had the ‘what are we’ talk; the ‘you’re the only one I hit up’ talk. But that was it — just sex. It’s what you both wanted, what you both agreed on after that first time was so good. You’re both terrible at relationships and staying emotionally invested and owning your feelings. So it seemed like a good idea at the time.

The irony of it all is that you’ve found yourself in the predicament that afflicts almost every fuck-buddy situation-ship — it’s gotten messy. You’re not ignorant enough to ignore that certain things have triggered the realization that you potentially have stronger feelings for him beyond those brought about by having amazing sex together. But you’re not sure you’re willing to lose him from your life completely if he doesn't feel the same. You can live with some emotionally one-sided boning if it meant you got to see him, be close to him, like you are right now.

You sigh and your eyes close as you zone out for a bit, trying to push your worries away and enjoy the simplicity of this moment in the sun, willing your mind to become as clear as the blue sky above you. Willing the universe to shine some guidance down on you.

“Can I join you?”

You startle with a little gasp and your eyes shoot open in surprise. Your head jolts up to find Grayson standing at the side of the pool in his too-short swim trunks that cling to his thick thighs appealingly, and nothing else. He and Ethan had been filming earlier (one of the reasons you justified coming over, he’d be out of sight and out of mind) but apparently he’s done now. He’s got a hand covering his face to shield his eyes in the bright light, and if you didn’t know their voices so well or have a familiarity with their tattoos, you would have had to do a double-take to discern him from Ethan; you’re still not used to his short hair.

You liked it better longer, but you won’t tell him that; it’s not your place. You’re not his girlfriend.

“It’s your pool, you can do whatever you want,” you answer with a shrug, ignoring his amused grin that you presume is from scaring you. You don’t mean for it to come out so short and clipped, but now that he’s here in front of you, he’s suddenly a proverbial thundercloud in that clear sky of your conscience you were so close to achieving

His presence reminds you of why you’re unjustifiably mad at him, and also what drove you to this crisis point at all: the mystery girl in his private Snap story from three days ago, when he and Ethan had gone to the skate park with some friends while you had to work. You think of how she had laughed too obviously when he bombed a trick; how she had clung to his veiny forearms much too long while he helped her balance on a board; how close she had snuggled up to him in the group picture.

And who even was she? You didn’t recognize her, and you thought you might have detected some kind of accent…British or Australian maybe?

He’s not your boyfriend, you remind yourself sternly, realizing you’re sliding down the same rabbit hole you've been avoiding ever since you viewed the story. You’re not his girlfriend.

You’ve been repeating that mantra for the past three days though, and it hasn’t changed a damn thing in your head. Especially when he comes out looking like this, all broad and sculpted and familiar, and the thought of another girl even coming near him makes you want to throw hands.

But he doesn’t know that — you barely recognize that. What you are able to recognize is that bratty attitude is uncalled for, but your mind is revving again, fueled by all of your conflicting wants and insecurities.

He seems to pay no mind to your moodiness, though, and shrugs too with a little hum as he dunks a large foot in the water curiously. He looks back up at you, and even though you still can’t quite see the look in his eyes, his voice is telling. “How’s the tan coming?”

You can feel his focus glued to your tits and fight the urge to roll your eyes because you know what he’s doing, and you know you shouldn’t be mad because you’ve been fine with it until… whenever. You don’t really know when things changed in your head. Certainly mystery girl was a catalyst for getting it through your thick skull that you like him. But as of now he’s going by what the two of you know: show up, flirt, fuck. And you don’t have the right to be pissed at him for doing just that. You showed up here by your own free will.

So yes, you’re well aware he’s initiating your usual routine with each other, and you make the quick decision to go along with it rather than face your feelings. It’s easier that way.

You raise an eyebrow at him knowingly and tuck the fingers of your free hand into the triangle top of your bikini to pull it completely aside, exposing your whole breast for him. Despite yourself, you hide your victorious smirk when you see him swallow hard by ducking your head to check the changes in your skin tone; boys are too easy.

“Pretty good, I guess,” you answer truthfully, actually satisfied with the notable difference. You gaze back at him, unable to wipe the smugness from your features as he conspicuously adjusts himself in his swimsuit. “What do you think?”

“Looks good to me,” he agrees with a smirk, giving your chest one last look as you readjust the material back in place before anyone else in the house might come out and see. He shakes his head as if to clear it and turns around to rummage through the little storage shed that houses all of the pool supplies. He retrieves a thick foam floatie and tosses it into the pool with a mischievous smile.

“Grayson!” you shout, half annoyed and half amused when he lunges onto it head-first into the water. His big body causes tidal waves to erupt all across the pool, jostling you roughly in your own floatie as you lift your drink in the air to avoid getting chlorine water in it.

He chuckles and shakes his head when he sees what you're doing, rolling his eyes as he settles on his stomach. His arms and back flex enticingly as he does an imitated breast-stroke to paddle over to you. “Really?” he deadpans, looking pointedly at your Whiteclaw.

“Yes, really,” you reply, kicking your foot so water splashes in his face as you take a deliberate gulp. You don’t elaborate, genuinely not in the mood to get into this debate with him.

Grayson wraps a big hand around the edge of your floatie and pulls until your heads are even with each other, even though your’s is sitting higher. He keeps a grip on the inflated plastic so you don’t drift away from him, leaning over and planting a strangely affectionate kiss to the top of your arm while looking up at you with those sweet hazel eyes. You’re a sucker for them, and he knows it; he must sense your attitude, after all.

“You’re cranky,” he confirms, his lips brushing against your skin when he speaks.

His tone isn’t accusatory, but you can’t help but take it as such, and you finally do roll your eyes when you raise the can to your lips once again. “Yeah, well, I had a long fuckin’ week.”

He hesitates. In your peripheral you can see his face working as he tries to remember what he might have done between letting you in his house a couple hours ago, and now to warrant your scorn. The two of you rarely argue, and he’s clearly unsure of how to proceed.

Finally, his hand shifts to caress your thigh, and you can’t stop the warmth that spreads all within you, especially to your pussy. You know he can feel the visceral twitch of your muscles beneath your skin when your thighs clench. It’s simultaneously comforting and maddening that he has this hold on you — there’s both security and fear there.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Do you? Absolutely not. Should you…?

“Not really,” you answer, but soften your words by scratching your fingers through his hair. You can’t help it; he’s trying, and it’s sweet, and reminds you of how you might have gotten to the point of wanting more from him after all.

Satisfied for the moment that you’re not too pissed at him, a little content smile graces his full lips and he lets out a small, appeased groan. You lose sight of his eyes as they droop closed and his head rests on his folded arm, the other still curled around your leg. It makes a little fuzzy ball of happiness grow in your chest as you indulge him for a few minutes, dragging your nails against his scalp, down the nape of his neck, across his broad shoulders. Mystery girl doesn’t get to do this.

You’re tracing his lion tattoo with lingering water and sweat droplets on his skin when he turns his head, eyes fluttering open to stare up at you. There’s a heat behind them that you’re more than familiar with, and it makes you flush more than the sun already does.

“Are you drunk?” he asks, his voice low, eyes glued to your face.

His fingertips start stroking a path from where they’re resting on your thigh, down to the equally sensitive patch of skin on the inside of your knee, and back up again. You can’t hold back the shiver down your spine or the throbbing in your clit even as anger flares within you.

“Are you serious?” you challenge, throwing your sunglasses to the top of your head so he can get the full effect of how mad that question makes you. This topic was probably you’re main point of contention with Grayson, and you were already a little testy with him. You shake the can in your hand to indicate it’s still about one-third full, and barely discern your floatie hitting the side of the pool. “No, I’m not Grays—”

Before you can process what’s happening, he's lunging from his own float to crawl over you and plant his hands on the pool ledge. He’s holding himself above you, trapping you in this weird cocoon of hot, sticky plastic and his wet, muscled torso as he dips his head to kiss you soundly.

He accepts your inadvertent moan with a little knowing smile against your lips, and his tongue wastes no time slipping between them to find yours. He licks into your mouth, around your cheeks, sliding against your tongue, tickling your hard palate. Always thorough, always perfect. You moan again because he just kisses you that fucking good, and can’t stop your hands from diving fully into his hair, your drink plunking into the water.

What were you so mad at him for? You don’t remember and you don’t care, and if he didn't have this amnesia effect on you, you’d realize that this is exactly where your problems are stemming from. Burying everything in both a proverbial hole and a literal pile of discarded clothes.

Grayson starts to slow down and sucks your lower lip into his mouth, releasing it with a little smack as he pulls away to look at you in the eye. You replace his teeth with your own, dragging the swollen pink between them as you trail one hand over his defined pec. He looks fantastic like this, all his muscles working easily to support himself while he lets you lean over and suck hot little kisses down the thick column of his neck.

His skin tastes clean and salty and it’s addictive on your tongue when you add it to the mix, sucking and nibbling at the junction of his neck and shoulder. He moans and you smile, your pussy clenching when you think about the mark that will definitely be imprinted into his tan skin, how it’s in the perfect position to be mostly hidden while still peeking out of the collar of his shirt tomorrow if he isn’t careful. The idea causes a surge of possessiveness to electrify your body, and you bite down harder into the same spot without even realizing.

Grayson gasps and pulls back, looking at you questioningly. You offer nothing in return, daring him with your eyes to keep going. It’s his move now.

He does nothing other than continue to search your face, until finally he speaks. “What’s wrong? Tell me.”

You’re a little surprised, but it’s not like he’s this douchebag with no emotional intelligence. He’s obviously able to tell somethings wrong and that it involves him. You just didn’t expect him to be so concerned still, when you’re both willing to carry about like normal.

“Nothing.”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t do that. Come on, talk to me.”

“I said it’s nothing, Gray. Can we keep going, please?”

“Not until you tell me what’s the matter,” he says. He dips his head, and you think he’s going to kiss you stupid again, but his lips just barely find the corner of your mouth in the tiniest of kisses. It feels good in a different way, sending tingles across your scalp and down your neck, and your eyes shut when he moves to the other corner. Then your nose, then your eyelids, until he’s nuzzling his nose in your cheek. “Please?”

Oof. You love that word coming from Grayson; it doesn’t happen too often.

“Dude, I’m fine,” you sigh, rubbing his bicep and gazing at his collarbone distractedly, completely unable to meet his eyes. You’ll crumble if you catch the concern there, and right now you just want an uncomplicated orgasm. “You have to be getting tired holding yourself up like that.”

“I’ve held myself above you for longer,” he retorts, half smug and half matter-of-fact. He’s not wrong, to be fair.

“Well, remind me for real. Inside, in bed,” you insist, finally looking up at him.

Grayson just stares back at you, his eyes searching your face intently. After what feels like an eternity, he pushes away from the pool ledge and sinks below the surface of the water. You think you’ve won, and a little thrill rushes through you like it often does when you know you’re about to fuck him. You start to roll off of your floatie, when you feel pressure at the end of it.

“What—?”

Grayson is suddenly popping his head up in the opening at the foot of your floatie, then squeezing his Dorito torso through the smallish hole as well. It’s clearly a tight fit, but it keeps his head and chest securely above the water.

He shakes his head out of habit, as if to fling the hair out of his face, and it does something to your heart and your vagina. You miss the strands that would hang in his eyes like he was straight out of a Giorgio Armani ad or something. Not that he’s not still model-like, but something about that hair just hit different.

“Scoot,” he says, reaching his arms out to grasp your ankles and tug, indicating for you to slide down the plastic.

You look at him suspiciously, curious as to why he seems to be giving up so easily, but oblige him anyways. Like you aren't going to pass up the chance of getting eaten out in the pool.

A sudden thought occurs to you when he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your high-cut bikini bottoms. “Wait…”

He cocks an arched brow. “Gonna talk to me?”

“Where is everyone?” you ask, ignoring his question.

“E and Sterling dropped me off then went to run errands. They’ll be gone for a while,” he says, pulling down on your swimsuit. He growls when your smooth pussy appears bare for him at last, and he flings the scrap of material behind him so it lands somewhere on the concrete.

He wraps his giant hands around your hips and pulls again, and this time you listen, wiggling down with some rather unattractive squeaks of your skin against the plastic, but you end up flat on your back with your pussy in his face. The heat of the sun bakes your skin in the best way, almost arousing in and of itself, but Grayson’s warm breath against your sensitive lower lips definitely does the trick. You feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, gasping when one of his fingers comes up to delicately trace the softness of your freshly waxed skin.

You can’t see him between the brightness of the sun above you and the precarious support of the floatie, which only makes the featherlight touches of his fingers and now his tongue that much more impactful. He barely holds you open with two of his fingertips while the softness of the pointed tip of his tongue licks the slickness from you with a barely-there pressure that leaves you so frustrated and turned on your eyes just roll back and your thighs quiver.

“God, Grayson, please,” you moan out when you finally can’t take it anymore, your hand sinking into his wet hair. You need more. You need all of him, in every way.

He hums, and the vibrations melt you, so sensitive that the simple noise makes your thighs clench around his head with a sharp gasp. His hands move to push your legs away, and he dots little kisses to the skin there instead.

“I like your manners,” he says, “but if you want to cum, I need you to tell me why you’re mad at me.”

You pout at the sky, your chest heaving with nerves and arousal and irritation. “I can’t.”

You expect him to argue back, but the next thing you feel are his fingers parting you again, and his lips planting a soft kiss to the swollen bud of your clit. It jolts you, the surprise and the pleasure of it a heady mix, especially when he tickles you with that featherlight brush of his tongue.

“Tell.” Lick. “Me.” Kiss.

He’s a persistent little bastard, you’ll give him that, but your stubbornness is a wonder, too. You let him tease you while you stay radio silent other than some uncontrollable whimpers of pleasure, until he breaks down and suckles your clit into his mouth, hot and wet and full of saliva from his glands watering at the taste of you. Your noises immediately get louder, desperate, pleading.

It’s when he suddenly backs off and just kisses your outer lips chastely, no real intent to please you but still there, that you finally give in, unable to stand the constantly building and waning pressure in your pussy anymore. Your grip in his hair tightens and you cry out in frustration. Feelings and worries be damned; you need to cum.

“Fucking…fine! Who is she?”

Grayson pauses, and leans away from your center. His voice is full of genuine confusion when he speaks up. “Who are you talking about?”

Anger and embarrassment flit through you. You didn't expect this conversation to happen at all, let alone when you’re bottom-less, needy, and having it sexually coerced out of you. But it’s out there now, and you can’t let yourself look even more ridiculous by backtracking. You try to sit up, and thankfully his weight on the end of the float balances out your efforts as you settle back into more of a sitting position with your legs folded to preserve some modesty.

You almost lose it when you gain sight of him again. His lips are shiny from your pussy juices, his thick eyebrows drawn in concern, his shoulders and biceps bulging from how they’re bent on the floatie. All of your biggest weaknesses in one image.

“That girl from the skatepark. Who is she?”

He thinks for a moment more, and his face suddenly lights up with understanding. “Millie? The blonde chick?”

You nod, and your blood boils at the thought of her with a name now. Somehow, ‘mystery girl’ made her less threatening. “She was all over you. I just want to know who she is to you.”

Grayson doesn’t laugh at you. You feel like he should, but of course he doesn’t. He just continues to stare at you with worried eyes.

“She’s a friend visiting from the U.K., and E and I wanted to show her around LA,” he says quietly. “She’s just a friend, I promise.”

The assuredness behind his tone makes you swallow. You duck your gaze to piddle with a leaf that had floated onto your leg when you changed positions, distracting yourself from his intense gaze. It’s now or never, you realize. “I’m just a friend.”

He’s silent again and it’s so fucking nerve-wracking. Grayson is usually so impulsive with his thoughts and his words, and the time he’s taking to soak in everything you’re saying is unnerving. You can only imagine that he’s trying his best to come up with the best way to let you down easy and never speak to you again.

“You… you want more?”

You nod again, biting your lip.

His hand covers yours on your leg, and interlaces your fingers so your palms touch. You finally allow yourself to look at his face again, shocked to see a wide smile on his lips.

“Is it not completely, embarrassingly obvious that I don't want you to be just a friend either? Or a fuckbuddy, or whatever we’ve been doing for this long?” he asks, squeezing your hand as he laughs incredulously. “I’ve been trying to ask you out for weeks. But I just…couldn’t do it outright; I was being selfish. I figured I had you all to myself, even if it was just sex, and didn’t want to scare you away by bringing up the idea of being more.”

You smile brightly and your heart soars, your head spinning at this newfound information. You want to articulate how you’ve had the exact desires and concerns he’s voicing, but your mind is racing too fast to form the words, and all that come’s out is, “Same.”

He bursts into that belly-laugh that makes you giggle too, and you hide your face in your hands with a groan as he ducks back into the water only to reappear at your side a moment later. “Come here,” he says, arms outstretched to help you down.

You clutch his biceps and sink into the cool water with him, immediately wrapping your legs around his waist and drawing him to you for a deep, meaningful kiss. He sighs into your mouth, and chases it with his when you pull back, making you laugh again. The fingers of one hand play with the short hairs at the nape of his neck, the others tugging on his chain. “Does this mean I get to call you my boyfriend now?”

He grins and nods. “Absolutely.”

You watch his face with a smirk when you grind down on his semi in his swim trunks. His eyes darken and he clutches tighter onto your bare ass. “Then I want my boyfriend to fuck me right here, in this pool. Right now.”

He doesn't need more convincing. Grayson groans and latches onto your neck as he starts to walk you both towards the steps of the pool, and you feel his dick grow harder as you squirm against him. When you reach them, he sits on the shallow sundeck above the very top step, keeping you firmly in his lap as your knees settle on the cement beneath the four or so inches of water.

He kisses you, and his fingers slip through your pussy, his touch direct and purposeful now, all thoughts of teasing you gone with the wind.

“Want you to cum first,” he whispers heatedly, two of his thick fingers slipping inside you as his thumb plants itself on your clit. A tried and true method he knows will get you off in no time. “Like I promised.”

His fingers pump steadily and curl into your g-spot, rubbing and thrusting at the perfect tempo to make you hunch into him as you cry out and cum hard on them. Your hips thrust down on his hand, your teeth sinking into the skin of his shoulder to keep yourself quiet, your little whimpers floating into his ear and making him shiver as you come down.

When your thighs stop shaking, he takes his fingers out of you and traces your lips with them, smearing your wetness on them like lipgloss until you open them with a tired, grateful smile and suck his digits into your mouth. You both moan, and once you’ve gotten all of your taste off of his skin, you release them with a pop and work your hands into the waistband of his trunks.

You lower them just enough to get his dick out, hot and hard and heavy in your hand as you give him a few steady strokes before sitting up enough to position him at your entrance. You slide the blunt tip across your slit, settling it at your hole and dipping down just enough to encapsulate the sensitive tip in your wetness, only to drag him up to your clit again with a gasp and a smile. Payback is fair game, you reason, thinking of how much he had teased you earlier.

He growls deep in his chest when you do it again. “Baby, please.”

Baby. That’s new. It makes your body heat with possessiveness and pride and the thought of ‘I’m your’s’ as you finally give in and position his cock where you can sink down on him slowly.

Your hips settle on his lap once again, and you note the concrete already scraping your knees when you start grinding against him. You plant your feet there instead, which makes his eyes light up with excitement.

“Fuck yes,” he breathes, tugging the material of your bikini top aside so both of your tits are out for his viewing pleasure before reclining back on his hands so you can support yourself on his shoulders. His jaw drops open and he moans with you as you start bouncing on his dick, the angle amazing and the depth he reaches even better. You pick up the pace, and his teeth grit together with a hiss. “God, your pussy’s so fucking tight.”

His eyes are glued to the way your tits jiggle and sway with your movements, and he leans forward to capture one of your nipples in his warm mouth. You clutch his head partly for leverage and partly to just keep the suction on your sensitive breast, and throw your head back to bask in the sun and the overwhelming pleasure oozing through your body.

Eventually, your legs start to tire, and you drop your knees back into the water with two little splashes so you can grind on him again. You tug his hair to pull him off your chest, looking deep in his eyes before dragging him into a fiery kiss, your tongues dueling and lips smacking sloppily.

“Gray,” you whimper against his mouth, begging for more. More, more, more. This man, in all his beauty, is yours, and you want all of him.

He understands, urging you off of him and standing as he turns you to lay back in the shallow water. He takes advantage of being stood up to tug his swimsuit off the rest of the way, reaching down to do the same to your top and tosses both scraps of fabric onto the ground.

You recline back on your elbows and admire the way his dick stands tall and proud and shining with your juices. The way he looks down at you makes you feel sensual and pretty in the bright light of day, long hair swirling in the water around you, your body glistening in both elements as well. One of your hands travels down to your swollen pussy as you bite your lip and stare up at him as he moves above you. The sundeck is a big circle, and he pushes you further away from the steps so he can crawl over you and have plenty of room to lay you back with an arm pillowed under your head to keep it above the water.

Grayson hooks an elbow under one of your knees and sinks back into you with an easy thrust, your back arching as a whimper of his name breaks past your lips. His mouth finds your neck, and he sucks and nibbles the delicate skin there as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. The coolness of the water encompasses your back, contrasting with the heat of his body and the afternoon sun, and you wrap one arm around his shoulders while the other wedges between your bodies so your fingers can find your clit again.

“You’re so big,” you mewl into his ear, circling faster as his hips thrust harder. He loves when you talk him up like this, and you’re happy to do it, especially because everything you say to him is true. Your nails drag across his golden skin, leaving bright red welts in their wake and eliciting a loud groan from him as he tugs on your earlobe with his teeth in return. “So fuckin’ big, filling me up so good, baby.”

The pet name slips easily from your lips now, too. He grunts and pulls his head back to look into your eyes, and you melt at the pure lust and affection you see in his darkened orbs. His thrusts are now impossibly deep, jolting your body with each one as he brings you rapidly to the peak of your orgasm with his steady pace.

“You’re mine, Gray,” you whisper brokenly, your breaths getting knocked out of you as he fucks you hard and perfect. The realization and just saying the words out loud pushes you over the edge, eyes rolling back, your fingers faltering on your clit as your pussy flutters and spasms around his thick cock. “Oh my god, I’m cumming!”

Grayson moans loudly, and fucks you hard and sloppy for a few more beats until he’s right there with you, shooting inside you with whimpers of your name and boyish whines that you want to listen to on repeat forever.

His head falls onto your heaving chest as he comes down, and you hug him to you with a happy, satisfied grin on your lips. You feel weightless in a physical sense from the water and the high you’re still riding, but also emotionally as you grasp the reality of the shift in your relationship with this man. He is yours. He has been yours, even if neither of you were able to put a finger on it until now.

He sits up with a groan, and meets your grin with his own crooked smile before dipping his head down to kiss you softly.

“You’re mine, too.”

“Good.” You hum and smile bigger. “Now that we’ve got that settled, can we talk about growing your hair out again?”