#[ ear's that hear all; even what their not supposed to. — character study. ]

[euthymiya]

loving is easy (it didn’t used to be) ft. wriothesley

in which a familiar face brings wriothesley to a dark place, a place from where only you can pull him out. you always find a way to staunch the flow of blood from his broken knuckles, one delicate kiss at a time

contains: 2.7k word count ; female reader ; spoilers for wrio’s backstory and quest—briefly touches briefly on murder and child exploitation and trafficking ; mentions of blood and injuries (pankration rank) ; reverse comfort ; established relationship ; angst with a lot of fluff too ; this is slightly a character study of wrio i suppose

“—thesley, stop—wriothesley! you need to stop!”

“your grace, that’s enough!”

one voice calls out to him after the other. slowly. one by one. they register in his ears after being muffled for so long, after only the sound of his own voice rang in his head for so long.

more. he can take more. again. give him another. one more. don’t stop. another punch. punch. don’t stop punching. just keep punching.

he can hear the words repeating in his head as he lands a fist one after the other to the swollen, bloodied face under him.

finally, he stops—he doesn’t have a choice. his shoulders are grabbed, strong sets of multiple hands holding his arms back before his knuckles can make another precise landing to their target.

typically, wriothesley doesn’t participate in pankration rank matches very often. the place is entirely reserved for him to use after hours, when his boxing gloves can come out and a punching bag can take the brunt of his hits.

it’s better that way. it’s less likely to cause injury of inmates, it’s an effective method to get rid of his pent up frustrations through the day, and it’s a wonderful way to exercise and get in a work out.

today, however, he can’t wait that long. the thought of waiting until everyone’s off to their quarters to sleep, until the rank is his alone in the dead of night, until hours have passed and he’s had to suffer simmering in his thoughts is not something he thinks he handle today.

today, on a rare whim, wriothesley decides to join a match himself. he’s done so before—and in all fairness, it’s never exactly turned out poorly. sure, he wins a bit too easily, and, of course, the inmates are typically too nervous to really give him a proper fight. but it’s not the first time, he joined.

but right now, as his senses return to him, as the guards pry his body off the opponent he’s pinned to the ground, as your concerned gasp rings in echoes through his ears and sigewinne’s shocked face quickly approaches the unconscious and bloody figure crumpled on the floor, he thinks this might just be his last match.

“wriothesley,” you whisper, voice shaky and disbelieving, “what in teyvat has gotten into you?”

he stares down at his fists.

blood.

so, so much blood. just like that day—just like that cursed day. his hands shake as they ball into tight fists, nails digging into the meat of his palms. the pain feels good, he faintly registers. it feels like something, anything against the numbness he’s starting feel spread across his entire body.

he’s fairly certain the only reason he’s standing upright anymore is because the guards are there to stabilize his body.

“someone should take him to the infirmary,” you set your shoulders back, a firm tone taking over your voice as you decide to handle the clear poorly tamed situation. you gesture at the limp form on the floor, making guards nod as they rush over and lift the body. “sigewinne, will you be able to take care of him?”

“of course,” she nods, quickly following after the guards as they leave.

wriothesley’s not fit to do anything but stare off in a trance for the moment. you’ll tackle that issue in a bit—first, you turn to the surrounding crowd, voice strict as you say, “everyone is to leave the rank. now.”

inmates at the fortress know better than to question you. at times, they even wonder if you have more authority over wriothesley than he does himself over the entire fortress. they quickly file out of the room, hushed murmurs between them all that you pay no mind to.

what do you reckon has gotten into his grace?

you think that guy’ll be alright?

it’s a good thing i didn’t participate today.

me too.

you catch the faint words every now and then as all the bodies quickly empty out of the rank, leaving you, your boyfriend, and the few guards still holding him upright.

“my lady,” a guard quickly walks up to you, urgently handing you a first aid kit as she adds, “the head nurse has requested for this to be delivered to you.”

“thank you,” you murmur softly, taking the kit in your hands before smiling at the guards that slowly but surely let go of wriothesley’s arms, letting him stumble over until he stops just before your figure.

his eyes are still so distant, so hollow.

“we’ll be off,” one of the guards nods, “we’ll leave his grace to you.”

“of course,” you return the gesture, watching as they slowly exit too, leaving you and the duke to yourselves.

you look at him in concern. he doesn’t meet your eyes, focusing on the blood stains on the floor not too far away.

“baby,” you say gently. delicately. like approaching a small, caged animal as you carefully reach a hand over. he doesn’t pull away, but he stiffens as your hand cups his cheek, “you should sit down. i’ll just clean your hands, okay?”

“i…”

“c’mon,” you guide him by the wrist, slow steps that he follows, completely silent, completely resigned to letting you pull him along as he blindly follows.

you softly push him to sit on a bench at the side, grabbing a hand and slowly setting to work. he doesn’t even let out his usual exaggerated hiss when the sting meets his broken skin as you disinfect it with a cloth.

“i didn’t mean to,” he says quietly after some time, overwhelming guilt coating his words. “i don’t…i can’t figure out what came over me.”

“i know you didn’t,” you reassure, pausing when his eyes stare up at you unsure. “you’d never mean to hurt anyone.”

his face tells you he doesn’t believe you—don’t you know what got him sent here in the first place? how could you say that so confidently when you know his past?

he scoffs bitterly, looking away as he mutters, “yeah, sure.”

“so you meant to hurt that guy?” you raise a brow, making his lips curl into a frown as he pauses, contemplating your words before slumping in defeat and glumly shaking his head.

“no,” he mumbles lowly, voice hardly audible if you weren’t so close, so intent on hearing him.

“okay, what’s on your mind, baby?” you press a sweet kiss to his forehead. his hand is still in yours, cleaned and bandaged now as your thumbs trace over the tough, dried calluses of his palms. “talk to me.”

“nothing,” he says gruffly, not meeting your eyes as you look at him and sigh.

“i’d believe you sooner if you told me you were trying to kill that guy,” you reply—you think you might immediately regret the choice of words as soon as he flinches.

kill.

was he trying to kill the man? it certainly feels like he might’ve been. he didn’t mean to lose control like that, he’d never purposely hurt an inmate in such a manner. but one taunt turned to two, and it’s easy for the cocky opponent of his to get under his skin—something that’s so unusual, so unlike wriothesley.

he can’t remember the last time someone’s, let alone an inmate’s words mattered to him. someone apart from you, perhaps sigewinne.

“you haven’t been yourself since the newest prisoner,” you note, voice taking on a careful lilt as you brush back sweaty strands of hair from his forehead, pressing a lingering kiss to the skin.

he closes his eyes, letting out a stuttering breath.

“what makes you say that?”

it’s a deflection—wriothesley is certain you’ll see through him, but it doesn’t stop him from avoiding the heart of the matter nonetheless. he doesn’t look at you, opting to stare down at the bandaged knuckles of his hands, imagining the blood that was just there moments ago.

he’s familiar with blood on his hands. this wouldn’t be the first time, and he’s certain it won’t be the last. he wonders why he was destined at such a young age to always feel the thick, crimson liquid coat his skin. why he of all people is cursed to feel the warmth of life spill across his knuckles and turn cold.

wriothesley doesn’t even blink, doesn’t even register your hands covering his own, squeezing as gently as possible so you don’t disrupt the sore skin under the cotton.

“wriothesley,” you call, hands moving to cup his cheeks, “it’s okay, i promise.”

i’m here now. you can trust me. i won’t betray you. i won’t let anyone betray you.

that’s what you mean—he can hear the words hidden under the ones you speak, whispering to him like echoes that speak over the calls of his childhood.

they’re enough to make him bury his face into your shirt, inhaling the scent of you to try and forget the wretched scent of blood. he’s so tired of blood.

“that new inmate,” he starts, voice hoarse, croaking so weakly, your hand cups the back of his head to bring him closer, “he was my older brother. when i was a kid.”

wriothesley’s childhood is not foreign to you. you’d read the files before you came down to the fortress for work, and even after your relationship shifts from colleagues to lovers, he tells you. the version that’s seen from the haunted eyes of a little boy forced into the reality of a man. the version that doesn’t speak through the codes of law, but the horrors of a child with no way out. the version that makes wriothesley human, not a criminal.

he doesn’t speak of his siblings, not often anyway. too many of them left before him, before he could have known they needed to be free. he doesn’t know what happened to them, and you think he might never want to know. the ones he set free have lives of their own, he tells you. he took it upon himself to find out, just to be certain.

just to know they’re safe.

you’re sure this recent prisoner must be the first of his older siblings that he’s ever come across past his youth.

“he doesn’t recognize me,” he whispers, fingers hooking into your shirt as he grips you, “i can tell.”

“do you want him to?”

“no,” he admits, “i don’t…he doesn’t know me as wriothesley. maybe that’s for the best—i don’t think knowing it’s me would be very good for him.”

“i’m sure he misses you,” you soothe your fingers through his hair, raking your nails across his scalp as he shivers at the tenderness of your touch. “just like you missed him.”

tenderness has never come to him without a price. his mother’s gentle hands and his father’s kind words all came at the expectation of mora. mora through his mind and body as though it were theirs to sell away like he was nothing. a mere commodity to come by and own rather than a child to love and nurture.

your tenderness comes without a price. without so much as an expectation for the affection in return. your love comes because it wants to, because loving him is the price you earn, not the price you pay.

“i’m too different now,” he says quietly, “i can’t be what he needs. not as a brother—i was too late.”

“too late for what?” you scoff, pulling his face from your shirt much to his disapproval. the soft flesh of his cheeks spill over your palms as you squeeze them together, forcing his head to tilt up and meet your gaze. “too late to what? to setting him free? you were a child.”

“i know,” he sighs, fluttering his eyes closed once more as your thumb strokes the scar under his eye. “we all were.”

wriothesley hates this scar in particular. it’s right under his eye, the first place he glances to when he looks at his own reflection. he can’t even assure his hair isn’t unruly without being reminded of the unfairness life has handed to him—but you love it. he thinks you must, with the way you kiss it so often. feel it under your delicate thumb. look at it so fondly. trace it with your index finger when you think he’s sleeping.

you love such ugly parts of him, he wonders if he’s ugly at all. if maybe he’s just bent, waiting for your hands to come gently mold him to be smooth, undamaged.

but you never try to fix him. instead, you try to love him for all the dents and scratches that he is, unwilling to change him despite all the flaws that stick out like a sore thumb.

that must be what love his, he realizes one day. not spilling blood on your hands for the sake of the ones you love, not leaving them behind so they won’t be tainted by your sins, not pretending they don’t exist so they can be free from being of reminded the horrors that cling to you.

love is you, when you look straight into his terrible, shriveled heart, stomped on and shattered over and over, collecting the shards in awe. loving each piece no matter how tiny, no matter how difficult to hold onto. love is choosing not to put them back together in a cracked, messy version of what it once was, choosing to file away and soften the sharp edges slowly, even as it makes your fingers bleed. love is keeping him close, even when he stands so far, walking extra steps even when your heels and calves ache from closing the distance he puts between you.

love is so easy to you, he wonders why it’s been so difficult the rest of his life. how can something seem so effortless now, after it took blood and tears from his for so long before?

he doesn’t know. but he doesn’t want to return to those dark, wretched days. his mothers hands weren’t kind, they didn’t hold him, didn’t protect him like they should have. his father’s eyes didn’t hold light, they never glowed at the sight of him, never shed a tear for his sake. and his siblings—oh how he once loved his siblings, how he considered himself so lucky, so gifted to run among them with his tiny, innocent feet.

but that’s gone now. those days are over. he no longer uses that cursed name he once answered so gleefully. he’s wriothesley now—duke. administrator. warden. your lover.

he’s fine with just that.

“what’s he here for?” you ask after some time, breaking the comfortable silence as he stays buried into your embrace.

“murder. just like me—the family he was sold to.”

“he’ll be okay,” you hum, trailing your hand to find his back, rubbing up and down the planes of his muscles through his shirt. “i’m sure of it.”

“how can you be so sure?” he asks disbelievingly, “i was at my lowest after my sentence.”

“you didn’t have an administrator as capable as you,” you point out. “he’ll be okay. he has you—whether it’s as his brother or as wriothesley. it’s up to you. either is more than enough.”

“you think so?” he looks up, pressing a kiss to the pad of your thumb as you trace his curled lips.

you nod, grinning gently as you say, “of course. when have i ever been wrong?”

“i suppose never,” he chuckles—his knuckles feel lighter now, as they mold to fit over your hips, holding your waist securely as if he holds his whole world.

he does. he doesn’t tell you, but he does.

“you have an injured inmate you owe an apology to, by the way,” you remind him, laughing as he pouts into your hand, laying his cheek further against your palm.

“i’m injured too,” he protests, “it’ll have to wait until i’m healed.”

you raise a brow, giving him an amused look. “and where exactly are you injured, your grace?”

he holds his hands out to you, the evidence of your tender love and care evident through the careful bandaging. but he’s selfish. because you let him be.

so he asks for more, in a simple plead of, “i need to be kissed better. please?”

you shake your head and laugh as he bats his lashes, but you don’t dare deny him. never saying no to more love, never running out of the affection he doesn’t know if he quite deserves.

“will it allow you a speedy recovery?”

“most definitely,” he confirms, nodding in all seriousness.

“fine then,” you snort. you kiss his knuckles, one press of your feather-light lips at a time.

the haunting feeling of blood goes away—all that’s left is the easy, simple feeling of being loved.

i headcanon that wrio recognizes an inmate when they’re new a bit after he becomes warden as one of the older children he was adopted with and spirals for a few days because their crimes are so similar to his but as an adult. and he mourns that he was too little back then to set the children before him free. and i wish i could tell you why all of my hcs about wrio are so depressing but he’s more fun to write that way bc then he’s that much more in love with reader when she comes into the picture ;)

[cloudedgalaxies]

Hi hey hello :333 may i request something? Since I saw from another post of yours that they were open :> I also am not sure if you wrote this before or not but can you please do MC/Yuu waking up malleus, jack, rook, and idia with nice soft kisses please? 🩵🩵

Thank you!! :D

Hi!! I haven't written that yet, it's so cute omg! I died a little while I was thinking of scenarios. My brain rotted in a good way, thanks so much anon <33

True Love's Kiss (Without the Curse)

Malleus Draconia, Jack Howl, Rook Hunt, Idia Shroud x G/N Yuu <3

Word Count: 2.6k | ~650 per part

(Malleus' part lowkey is kinda angsty but nothing too bad, really hope they're all in character and if not I'm so sorry TwT)

It was rare that Malleus ever slept. It was even rarer for Yuu to be witness to it, because after all their time together, the prince had become accustomed to watching over the prefect while they rested instead. But there were rare days where this was the opposite, and the human instead watched over the fae.

Fae were beautiful, Yuu found themself musing, as they took in Malleus’ sleeping face. He especially was extraordinary, with eyes that flickered and blazed and burned the most beautiful shade of green. It almost made their heart cry at how they couldn’t see his eyes then, when he rested and they had to be shut, but they supposed that was alright. They could still see his elegant horns that gave away his draconic heritage, and the pointed ears that hinted at his long, long lifespan. 

That was one of the reasons he rarely slept around them, Yuu knew. Malleus wanted to spend as many moments as possible with them. In the grand scheme of everything, they knew that what time they had to offer with him was naught but a drop in the sea of his life. Neither of them pretended that they didn’t know this, and yet,they never spoke of it. They countered it with little things, by taking walks together every night, or staying together even when one slept.

Yuu wondered what dreams he had. They wondered if he had dreams as vibrant as theirs, of histories that did not seem to be correct. They wondered if he could even dream, when he could govern everyone else’s to the point that they could become a reality he could shape. If Malleus could do that with others’ dreams, Yuu could not begin to imagine what he could do with his own.

And yet, they still wondered. Maybe he got lost in them too, like they did. Maybe when his eyes flickered underneath his eyelids, beautiful lashes fluttering, Malleus forgot that what worlds his mind constructed weren’t reality. Maybe they were nice dreams. Yuu hoped they were.

Just in case they weren’t, they stood from the place on the couch in his room they had been sitting on, making their way around his bed as quietly as they could. Just in case they weren’t, Yuu watched him for a moment longer, trying to study Malleus’ face in case they saw this again and could find the signs. Just in case they weren’t, they took his hand, ever-so-gently.

Softly, carefully, lovingly, Yuu leaned down, coming close enough so that they could hear the feather-soft breaths Malleus took. Like a timeless incantation, an ancient spell, they whispered his name. And then they pressed their lips against his, so terribly filled with adoration that they thought their heart might nearly burst.

It did not, thankfully. When Yuu pulled away, they watched as the fae’s eyes opened slowly. They saw the exact moment that Malleus saw them, making those beautiful rings of flame crackle and warm and blaze all at once. “Did you dream?” they asked, finding that their curiosity was getting the better of them.

Malleus smiled, and Yuu’s heart nearly burst a second time. His smile was the most ethereal thing they had ever seen. “I did,” he answered, finding that his hand was in theirs and holding it tighter. “I dreamt of you and I, in a field of flowers as the sun set.”

Yuu couldn’t help but smile back, when their heart didn’t break again to instead swell with warmth. “That sounds beautiful.”

He hummed, and the sound revealed how sleep still had the faintest of holds on him. “You are much more beautiful than any dream of you would be,” Malleus whispered, bringing their joint hands up to his lips to kiss. “Thank you for waking me so that I may behold the real you.”

Jack worked hard. Everyone knew this, from how he woke up hours earlier than his dorm to train more even before they did as a whole. He didn’t slack on his studies either, much to his professors’ appreciation. And for all the effort he put in, he knew where his limits were. It was one of the reasons why Yuu admired him so much, even when they were long into knowing each other.

He woke up much earlier than Yuu, to the point that they almost had no hopes of waking up before him. However, rare were the nights that he went to bed after them, thanks to his equally early bedtime. It almost terrified Yuu sometimes, how he could stay so devoted and consistent to his schedule. With all the hectic things Night Raven College threw at them, the prefect had a less-than-stellar sleep routine more often than not. Jack, in a way that just made Yuu’s heart melt all over again, tried to help them as much as he could to fix it, but it too failed more often than not.

The one good part about it, Yuu supposed, was that it could lead to times like now. Jack had come over to Ramshackle to study with them, since they had a test coming up in their Defensive Magic class. Yuu couldn’t cast spells, but that didn’t stop them from having to do the same written test as the rest of the class. For the practical part of the exam, they had to rely on Grim and hope that he did well enough to pass the two of them. Jack, thankfully, was making sure that the direbeast didn’t leave that up to chance.

A few hours into their study session for the written test, however, Yuu had found that they were more amused by watching Jack gradually become sleepier and sleepier. It was a mixture of adorable and endearing, the way that he had to keep jerking his head back up the moment it started to fall to instead answer one of Yuu’s questions. Maybe they were being a little mean, the way that they were purposefully asking more than they had to in order to make it last for longer. 

Yuu had been smart enough to at least ask the more difficult questions in the beginning of their time together, so now they were more messing with Jack than anything at this point. They suppressed a giggle when they looked up from their textbook to see his eyes half-lidded and still rapidly drooping. “Flora’s weak against water-defensive spells, right?” they asked.

Jack hummed. Yuu couldn’t stop the breathy laugh that escaped them when his eyes finally closed, watching at how that made his ears swivel to focus on the sound. But he didn’t react to it any other way, as his head dipped to his chest. “Jack,” they called softly, when he didn’t lift it up again.

He’d finally fallen asleep, Yuu realized, when they said his name two more times with no response. Maybe that was for the best, if they were being nice. But Yuu wouldn’t be a Night Raven College student if they weren’t a little cruel, so instead, they leaned over. Jack was so tired that he almost didn’t react to when they kissed his cheek, which made them smile all the more.

“Jack,” they tried, one more time. “Don’t sleep like that.”

With two more kisses to his cheek, his eyes finally fluttered. One more to his forehead, and they opened, as he raised his chin back up with a small grunt. “Sorry.” It took almost all his strength to say just that one word, Yuu saw, and they couldn’t help but giggle.

“Let’s go to bed,” they offered, with one last brush of their lips against his temple. Jack hummed again.

Yuu and Rook, in a way that would hopefully keep the latter from actually hunting the former, had come up with a strange little game the two of them would play. It had started so long ago that Yuu couldn’t even remember the exact day, and became such a habit that they didn’t want to stop, either.

Whenever one of the two of them found the other sleeping, they would try to wake them up in the way that all the timeless legends did: with the hero giving the rescued the gentlest of kisses. More often than not, Yuu was woken up by the soft brush of Rook’s lips against their brow, or their cheek, or even their hands. More often than not, Grim woke up shortly after Yuu to be scared into having a small heart attack at the sudden presence of the hunter.

At this point, Yuu couldn’t even begin to count how many times Rook had woken them up. On the other hand, they couldn’t even fill one listing the times that they had woken up Rook. Even when he spent the night at Ramshackle, or they had a sleepover at Pomefiore, they always fell asleep before he did and woke up to see him already awake. Yuu was beginning to think that he just didn’t sleep.

Until, one day, when they had been strolling through the forest, it happened.

Yuu didn’t know who or what was on their side, but everything had to have aligned perfectly for this to happen. They walked around a tree only to nearly jump when they caught a glimpse of his golden hair catching the sunlight on the other side, hat removed to better let him sleep.

He was beautiful asleep, just as he was when his emerald eyes were open. Yuu immediately tried to make every movement, every individual breath become as silent as possible, if only just to take in this rare sight before it disappeared once more. For all the time that Rook had spent praising their resting expression, Yuu had half a mind to do that to him, too. 

Carefully, they took another step closer. When that didn’t make so much as an eyelash quiver, Yuu took another, slowly but surely getting closer to the hunter. How funny it was, they thought, that their roles had finally been reversed. 

Somehow, they had gotten close enough to Rook to be able to touch him, and he had still not awoken. Yuu breathed a silent thanks to all of the Seven, alongside whatever deities and lucky stars they’d been blessed with as just as tentatively, they crouched next to him. Closer now, Yuu could see all the better just how stunning Rook was. For all the words he said admiring beauty, Yuu decided there and then that they would say the same number about Rook.

They leaned forward, softing pressing their lips against the apple of his cheek. And the moment they did, they felt the way that Rook had started to smile, unable to hold it back any longer. “Beautiful, Trickster. That was merveilleux.” His smile turned a little teasing, a little predatory as his eyes glinted. “It will take more than that to sneak up on me, however.”

“I knew it.” Yuu sighed, making Rook laugh as they unceremoniously plopped down next to him. “Do you have any tips?” they couldn’t help but ask, as one of Rook’s arms came to wrap around them.

“A hunter cannot reveal all his methods, mon coeur. You’ll simply have to practice.” Yuu didn’t know what to think, when they were met with another one of his beautiful smiles when they frowned up at him. At least they won a little, though. They won a little more when they kissed his cheek again, making a shade of pretty pink dust his face.

It was almost impossible to find someone who took gaming any more seriously than Idia Shroud. That was why, at the same time, it was almost impossible to find someone who slept less than him, be they fae or human. Most times, Yuu would try to work with Ortho to make sure he actually took care of himself and actually slept instead of just chug energy drinks like they were water.

Tonight was not one of those nights, however, because they had been challenged to a bet. Idia, with the cocky smirk that almost seemed to be exclusively for them in the safe confines of his room, had gloated that there was no one who could beat his times in a racing game. Yuu, considering themself something of a rising gamer ever since becoming the Ignihyde housewarden’s go-to player two, thought that maybe it would be something if they beat him at his own game.

Yuu had known it was going to be hard, but not as hard as it was. The moment Idia had heard that, he’d held nothing back, getting a time even better than what was already stored on his console to nearly make Yuu just give up right then and there. But if nothing else, Yuu was resilient, and they went right to trying to getting the gold ranking and knocking Idia’s character down a peg.

Once they got going, Yuu had no idea how much time passed. It was long enough to make Idia drop out and go finish his dailies on all his other games before midnight passed, at the very least. After that, Yuu had thought that he would have joined them again, but they stayed the only player.

After their latest attempt ended in another failure—Idia was still faster by a whopping 3.20 seconds—Yuu let their hands drop into their lap, sighing as they let their head fall back to hit the mattress from where they’d been stationed on a bean bag on the floor. “Idia, where was that one glitch again?” they asked, finally getting the resolve to slide their eyes over to him to see the told-you-so grin he’d give them—

—only to be met with nothing but closed eyes and a peaceful expression, as his head rested on folded arms. He’d been laying on his stomach on his bed in order to still see the screen while he’d been using his phone, but now even that device was left discarded to the side, as he took soft, even breaths while the screen dimmed and finally shut off from inactivity.

Maybe it was a little too late, or maybe Yuu had spent a bit too much time gaming, but this felt like a scene straight out of one of the dating sims they’d played with him. Looking over to see that Idia’s face was so close to them, so close that they could kiss him if they just moved so much as another few centimeters. They could feel their heart skip a beat, as his hair flickered and waved and surrounded him like a halo.

Idia Shroud was gorgeous, Yuu found themself realizing again. It made them smile softly to see that he had fallen asleep, though it turned a little guilty at the way that they’d kept him up late enough to make him finally just shut down. In a way they hoped would be a good enough apology, they gently leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the bridge of his nose.

That made him flinch slightly, humming ever-so-softly as his brow furrowed. “Idia,” Yuu called gently, making him hum again. They brushed their lips against his forehead now, as his hair flickered when he finally cracked open an eye. “I can’t get it.”

It was because his hair didn’t immediately turn pink from their proximity did Yuu know that Idia was still barely awake. He shifted a little, nuzzling deeper into his arms as his eye threatened to close again. “‘Cause you need the cheat code,” he muttered, words half-slurred. “I’ll tell you it in a sec. Need to…restore mana…first.”

Yuu almost laughed. “Mood.” But then they yawned instead, and decided that maybe their bar was getting a little low, too. They could take a second to refill before they attempted another try.

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed <3

[mountainficss]

you and classmate!jeonghan have something special. your relationship has no label right now, but he can’t help but feel such a strong connection when it comes to you. and as you spend more time with sweet hannie, you start to feel the same connection.

which is why you feel so bitter when his not-so-secret admirer comes up to talk to him after class for the third day in a row.

she started talking to jeonghan recently, strutting up to him before class to ask him stupid questions. “did you do the homework, jeonghan? are you busy after class, jeonghan? wanna hang out and study together sometime, hannie?” you’d be fucking fuming when she called him hannie. every time the nickname leaves her pretty lips you feel the uncontrollable urge to punch her right in the mouth. and every time she rushes up to him after class and hands him a mini bag of gummy bears, you intentionally turn away so you don’t have to see her beaming face when he accepts them. he doesn’t even fucking like gummy bears. he told you so after she gave them to him the first time. jeonghan always gives them to you to eat after she leaves, why can’t she see that? you almost feel repulsed by your disgusting feelings of jealousy bubbling up in your stomach every time she speaks. but you can’t help it. he’s supposed to be your hannie, not hers.

jeonghan is no better than you. in fact, he’s probably ten times worse. such a possessive baby.

he feels the same wave of envy when your classmate from science class talks to you in the hallways. he feels that same sick feeling when said classmate tags along with you and jeonghan on campus sometimes, forcing his way into your conversation. jeonghan can’t stand the way he looks at you. he stares at you like you’re his entire world, and it pisses jeonghan off. you’re supposed to be his world, not your classmate’s. you’re supposed to walk with him, not let this loser from science class follow along like some lost puppy. eventually jeonghan would be the one to snap first, letting his green eyes get the best of him. “y/n doesn’t want you,” he’d blurt coldly while science boy was in the middle of talking your ear off. he’d know that he was acting out of character, but didn’t care enough to sit back and watch while this boy steals your attention. “go talk to someone else.” you’d both shoot him bewildered glances, but eventually science boy would begrudgingly excuse himself from the conversation and walk to class alone. once he’s out of earshot, you’d whip your head around towards jeonghan and give him a questioning look. “what’s with you?” you’d press curiously, studying the blush that suddenly settled in on jeonghan’s cheeks. you’d notice that his regular relaxed demeanor and smug smirk were completely absent. he’d cross his arms, seeming to avoid eye contact with you. “don’t like the way he looks at you,” he mumbles reluctantly, playing with a loose strand on his sweater sleeve. you’d just stare at him in awe, watching the way his pretty hair frames his face and how the spring wind ruffles it slightly. his mouth is turned downward into a small frown, almost resembling a pout. was jeonghan jealous? he had to be. “you’re jealous,” you’d state, not even bothering to word it like a question. you knew how obsessed jeonghan was with you, and you were confident his previous rude outburst was purely out of jealousy. he’d nod slightly in response, still not looking at you as he mutters. “you weren’t paying attention to me. he just kept talking.” you’d snicker at his response, grabbing his hand and entwining your fingers with his. you’d lean in and press a quick peck onto his cheek, tugging a strand of his hair with your free hand just to fluster him. “oh, hannie,” you’d sigh, shaking your head at him. “only you have all my attention.” hearing you say that would immediately improve his mood, feeling confident that you chose him over stupid science boy.

the next morning you’d be in class with jeonghan again, holding his hand as you sit next to him like you always do. his little fangirl didn’t come up to start a conversation with him like usual, so you were able to enjoy not hearing her voice for the entire class. that peace was only temporary though, and you noticed her flouncing towards the both of you right as you were about to gather your things. “hannie~!” she’d chirp, staring up at him with the biggest doe eyes you’ve ever seen. there she fucking goes again. you’d force yourself to take a deep breath, mentally counting to ten in a poor attempt to bury your irritation. the most frustrating thing about fangirl’s interactions with jeonghan is how she pretends like you’re never there. she completely dismisses and disregards your presence every time she’s around jeonghan. he wouldn’t have time to respond before fangirl is interrupting him. “i brought you a bigger bag!” she’d grin, snatching his hand and prying it open as she places the larger bag into his palm. your nostrils would flare at the sight of her grabbing his hand, but you’d do your best to bite your tongue. he’d force a smile and utter a small thank you, receiving a joyful giggle from her in return. “let’s go somewhere sometime, okay hannie?” she’d beam, whipping around and practically skipping out of class excitedly.

he’d turn to you slowly, swearing he can feel the anger radiating off of your body. you were completely silent, saying nothing as you snatch his sweater sleeve and exit the lecture hall at the speed of light. an odd little choked noise would escape him as you start unexpectedly dragging him along, leading him through the halls and across the campus. “where are we going?” he’d ask you once, but when you don’t respond he knows not to ask again. after your speedy walk you’d finally reach your desired destination, throwing open the door to your dorm room and tugging him inside with you. once inside you’d wordlessly push him against the door, pressing your lips against his in an urgent and heated kiss. he’d be taken aback by you suddenly pouncing on him, but he’d kiss back eagerly. he’d love the way you take what you want from him. you’d break the kiss, fisting his sweater and trailing messy kisses down his jawline. “she’s pissing me off,” you’d hiss between pecks, reaching a hand down to palm at his cock over his pants. he’d gasp at the sudden contact, his eyes slightly fluttering as you make your way down to his neck. “are—are you jealous too?” he’d ask breathily, a little smirk forming on his face over the idea. you’d nip at the skin of his neck, rubbing him harder over his pants. “if i wasn’t, do you think i’d be fucking acting like this?” you’d seethe, quickly backing away to tug his sweater over his head. you’d run your hands over his exposed skin, littering more kisses all over the expanse of his shoulders. he’d moan shamelessly, hips rutting up into nothing as he attempts to find some relief. “i’m barely touching you and you’re already this worked up?” you’d scoff, lightly scratching your nails down his chest. “yeah,” he’d huff, leaning his head against the door. “i like when you use me. makes me feel like i’m your property.” a slight layer of sweat would bead across his forehead, causing his hair to stick to his skin. you were lucky your roommate wasn’t home when you had barged in with jeonghan, but you honestly don’t think you would have stopped touching him even if they were home. he was just too pretty, too fuckable to ignore. you’d chuckle slightly at jeonghan’s blatant confession. he’d always been shameless, never seeming to feel embarrassed about sharing any of his desires and fantasies about you. “‘let’s go somewhere sometime, okay hannie?’” you’d mimick, repeating fangirl’s words angrily as you drop to your knees and yank down his pants and boxers hastily. “i hate it when she calls me that,” he’d sigh in frustration, watching as you wrap a hand around his cock and stroke him slowly. “i-it sounds better when you say it.” you’d stand up again, pulling your shirt off and tossing it carelessly on the floor next to his clothes. “i wanna fuck you,” you’d declare, causing jeonghan to let out an uneven exhale. “can i?” he’d nod his head enthusiastically, almost not believing the words coming out of your mouth. you? the person he’s obsessed with? wants to fuck him? “please,” he’d whisper, gazing at you with that look. that look filled with desire and lust for only you. you’d say nothing, would only turn around and walk towards your room, stripping the rest of your clothes off on the way and carelessly discarding them on the floor. he’d follow after you clumsily, tripping over his own feet and feeling lightheaded from your hands on him. he secretly loves when you’re mad, it turns him on when you’re so frustrated you’re willing to take it out on him.

you wouldn’t even give him time to speak, immediately pushing him backwards and forcing him to lay down on your plush mattress. “can i feel you with my fingers?” he’d plead, his pupils blown out with lust. you’d give him no answer, instead grabbing his hand and sucking his middle and ring fingers into your mouth. he’d moan softly, feeling your tongue grazing over his fingers and coating them. you’d remove them from your mouth, guiding his soaked digits to your core. he’d slide them in easily, watching as you hold his wrist in place and slightly grind on his fingers. this was his first time pleasing you, and you looked ethereal to him. your face would be slightly flushed, but not from embarrassment. you’d still have that fire in your eyes, that look of confidence and determination to make him yours. he’d whimper at the feeling of your warm heat sucking his fingers in. “always hated when he’d talk to you,” he’d spill, entranced by you using his fingers like he was just some toy made to please you. “wanted you to look at me. i want you more than him, need you so bad. you like me more, right?” he’d fumble, the most desperate expression on his pretty face as he stares up at you. “i’ll take you out, buy you things, make you feel good every night, whatever. i’ll do anything,” he’d plead, the combination of his words and his fingers hitting your sweet spot causing you to let out small sounds. “oh, hannie,” you’d hum, feeling your orgasm approaching quickly. “you’ll always be my favorite. don’t want a-anyone else but you.” his heart would swell at your words, butterflies swarming in his stomach and leaving him with a sickly sweet feeling. your favorite? oh, he could just sell his soul to you and belong to you for the rest of his life. he felt your hole clenching around his fingers, watching you throw your head back as you cum around his digits with a gentle moan. god, he could watch you cum for him all day. he’d slide his fingers out carefully, stuffing them into his mouth and licking your release off them greedily. you’d let out a breathless laugh, watching him as he sucks them clean. “please let me eat you out,” he’d beg, watching you hover over his aching length. you’d smile gently at him, grabbing his cock and positioning it towards your entrance. “next time,” you’d coax, rubbing the tip over your slick and pulling a sweet moan from jeonghan. “need to feel you now.” you’d sink down onto him slowly, both of you gasping in unison as he stretches you out. you’d lower yourself onto him and envelop him completely, his hands reaching out for yours so you can hold them. you’d find his little habit of reaching for your hands so endearing, and he slightly sinks his nails into your hand as you start grinding on him. you’d hold his hands down, trapping him underneath you while you rock yourself on his cock a bit faster. “mark me,” he’d blurt, his hair cutely splayed into a messy pile on the pillow beneath him. “bite me. and give me hickeys. just want her to know that i’m yours.” your stomach would do flips listening to him say that, and you’d lean down to sink your teeth into the flesh where his shoulder and neck meet. “then mark me too,” you’d command him, licking the abused skin to soothe it. “need him to know that i’m yours. i know you’ll like that, jeonghannie.” he’d make the most obscene noises as you suck and nip at his skin, leaving behind the prettiest marks in your wake. you’d take turns sucking marks onto each other’s neck and shoulders, letting out the most pornographic moans as you continue to bounce on him. “let’s cum together, hannie,” you’d groan, squeezing his hands tighter. “wanna fill me up? so i can walk around campus with your cum in my panties? he’ll know you fucked me full, my little perv~” your words would immediately tip him over the edge, his hips thrusting up against you as you meet him halfway. his cock repeatedly hit your sweet spot, causing your orgasm to wash over you in waves and drag out jeonghan’s. you’d both be panting like mutts in heat, still rutting against each other and overstimulating yourselves.

“want them to know we fucked. want everyone to know,” he’d pant. “want them to know how good you make me feel.” you’d smile, his cock still buried in your core as you trace your fingers over the numerous hickeys and bite marks on his skin. “well, the marks will definitely let them know,” you’d joke, receiving a choked laugh from him. “hey,” you’d breathe, circling your hips around his cock, drawing a needy moan from him. “i like you.” his heart would beat faster, slightly pushing his hips up to fuck into you deeper. “god, i like you so much more,” he’d whimper, the sound of your skin colliding filling the room once again. you two just won’t be able to keep your hands to yourselves after fucking each other so good. and staring at the pretty marks on each other’s bodies would just spur you both on, continuing to make love again and again </3

he’d also let you eat the big bag of gummy bears bc he’s sure as fuck not eating those <3

taglist: @imprettyweird , @jeonghanpill , @bangantokchy , @caratboy , @bewoyewo , @c-hanniehae , @wonvsmile , @haolovre , @aaniag , @writingbarnes

[deathofacupid]

intellectual | peter parker

summary: you overhear something you weren't supposed to, but it shouldn't have been said in the first place. in result, you can't help but wonder if peter wants something different.

warnings: implied smut, mentions of sex, insecurity, use of y/n

pairing: bimbo!reader x frat!peter

word count: 3.0k+ words (my longest fic yet-)

a/n: in no way is use of "bimbo" meant to be a patriarchal stereotype. please do not take it offensively, this is a work of fiction.

M.LIST | RULES/REQUESTING | ABOUT ME

peter was totally smitten by you. really, he was. after all he's been through, it was kind of nice having someone who adores him as much as he does, even if you are... a tad bit dim-witted.

while he grew up surrounded by death, trauma, and more, you were raised sheltered, hidden away from all the bad things. and even though peter's been through some shit, he finds it to hold you so gently, like the pretty thing you are, as if you were stained glass; fragile, but so beautiful.

when he's holding you, all his soft, brown eyes can focus on are how your soft, manicured hands wrap around his rough, calloused ones. you're always careful not to hurt him with your acrylics.

even though you can be slow at times, it's almost impossible not to admire the way your clothes always hug your curves, glossed lips pulled into a pretty pout.

peter could have just about any girl he wanted on campus, but he didn't want any of them.

he wanted you, and only you.

maybe it's because you were different, and no, not in dim-witted nature. but because of how soft you were. you didn't know, and even if you did, understand the horrors he wittnessed out there everyday.

you were protected by a little (very pink) bubble that you lived in, so when he came home to you, it felt as if he was in a different world altogether. you were so damn good at distracting peter, and you didn't even know it.

you were in your own dorm room, watching a silly rom-com while peter was with his friends, he told you not to wait up for him, given that he would be up 'til the early hours of the morning. but you decided that peter and his goodnight kisses were slightly more important than your beauty sleep.

slightly.

you furrowed your neatly shaped eyebrows at something that one of the characters said, tilting your head.

ram-i-fic-a-tion? you thought, humming. pulling out your phone, you googled the word.

noun plural noun: ramifications

a consequence of an action or event, especially when complex or unwelcome. "any change is bound to have legal ramifications"

"legal ram-i-fic-a-tions?" you wondered aloud.

you skimmed the rest of the definitions, still confused. surely peter wouldn't mind if you gave him a quick ring? so you went ahead in did that, letting the sound echo in the room.

when he didn't pick up, you frowned.

"ummm..." you trailed off, calling one of his friends, spencer, instead. you weren't a stranger to him, but more of a mutual. after all, your roommate was dating him. actually, you'd ask alyssa, your roomie, but she wasn't here.

much to your happiness, spencer did pick up. "hiii, spence."

"y/n?" he said, slurring slightly.

"what does, like, ram-i-fic-a-tion mean?" you asked, careful to enunciate.

spencer was aware of... how your brain worked, and he wasn't a jerk about it (unlike some people). he was one of peter's closer friends, so you felt comfortable around him.

"ramification? oh, uh, it's like a consequence."

you frowned dumbly, "to what?"

"to an action. if you don't study for the final, you might not do well. that's a consequence to your action. a ramification."

"oh. oh! okay. thank you!"

he didn't disconnect right away, and you could hear one of his frat brothers, you were unsure who, talking. and of course, you strained your ears to listen.

"it doesn't get annoying or anything?"

you heard peter's voice come next, and instantly perked up. "what?"

"dude, be so for real. she's hot, but like, as dumb as a third grader. do you have to talk to her like that too?" he laughed.

oof, you thought, sucks to be whoever it was they were talking about.

"sometimes. she's good in bed, though."

wait. he was talking about you. your jaw dropped. i mean, you were stupid, but not this stupid. so this is what "saturday night with the boys" was all about?

you heard collective laughing. you did stupid things sometimes, but never had the mental compacity to be embarrased by them. this, though? this was different.

you trusted peter.

he was the only person who never, ever, spoke to or about you like that. in fact, it was one of the reasons you'd grown to like him so much. because he was patient, he was kind, and never did he once judge you.

well, that's what you thought.

but you were dumb enough to think that just because he never spoke about it to you, he never spoke about it all.

you immediately disconnected the call, dropping your phone. trying to focus back on the movie, you nibbled on a piece of popcorn.

but you just couldn't get over it. did it bother him?

all the questions? the dim-witted stupidity? all the pink?

reluctantly, you glanced the hot pink bowl that held your snack.

you didn't mean to be so... like that. you were just being yourself. did peter not like you being yourself? no, no, of course not. if he didn't, then why would he be with you?

a little voice in the back of your head rang out; "because you're good in bed."

maybe it wouldn't hurt to try and raise your iq?

you turned off the tv, hot pink popcorn bowl forgotten. alyssa wouldn't mind if you borrowed something, right?

you opened her room door, walking over to her bookself. wrinkling up your nose, you scanned her shelf. how could someone like reading so much?

it was so... gross.

oh, well. maybe peter was into intellectuals. and you had better become before he left you for someone like that.

your eyes paused at a book titled "the hobbit".

"what's a... hobbit?" you asked, not to anyone in particular. you skipped it, looking at her other ones.

"'twisted love', 'the fault in our stars'... what'd the stars do?" picking up the book, you read the back. "huh," you remarked, putting it back.

instead, you grabbed a couple self-help books, struggling to hold them with your acrylic nails, which, of course, were bright pink... accentuated with big charms; bows and hearts.

you went back over to your room, dumping them on your bed. checking your nails again, you drummed them against your palm to make sure they were intact.

you started reading the first one, curling up in a blanket, but you kept getting distracted. every five seconds, you look up to make sure your lashes were still in place, or that your skin wasn't to shiny, or that your hair was still perfect. and to be honest, you didn't really understand any of it.

like, who actually had the patience to read through all of it? how could a book cure all your crap?

and why would you read a book to feel better, when you could go to a spa, or a shopping spree.

credit cards were invented for a reason.

but you powered through, at the very least, you skimmed the words. there was no way you could read it word for word. but you wanted to try... for peter.

you wanted him to stick around, to love you, but not superficially. not for sex.

you stayed up until 1:30 (mostly reading, and you still didn't understand how people did this for fun), but didn't call peter. you'd talk to him tomorrow, maybe. first, you needed to get your facts straight. eventually, you got ready for bed.

this included showering, taking off your makeup, putting your hair in rollers, and your fifteen-step skincare routine.

you may have been half asleep, but you'd never skip a step.

peter came over around noon monday, when neither of you had classes. "jeez, babe," he groaned, you in his lap, "i've got so much to do. seriously, i'm never gonna get it done."

you twirled your hair, appearing nonchalant, "your mindset is either your best friend, or worst enemy."

you kept your eyes trained on your phone, waiting for peter to respond. looking up, you saw him blink. "uh... yeah. that was- that was very... un-y/n-like."

to be honest, you didn't even know what the saying meant. you just memorized it from your book. "was it dumb?"

"no, it was smart," peter replied, kissing your hairline.

"i'm normally dumb?" you asked, tearing up. lips pouted, voice moist, you made eye contact with him. you knew you were a little slow, but dumb? really?

"no! that's not what i meant. it just sounded- well, i- cause you never say stuff like that. you're my smart, pretty girl."

"oh, okay," you said, your nails tracing the curve of his back. you pecked him on the lips, but he brought you back for a longer kiss.

you giggled as he flipped your positions, peter on top.

"can i show you just how pretty you are?"

he didn't have to ask twice.

you were in the dining hall, sitting with some of your friends, mixed with some of peter's.

they were talking as you picked at your salad, leaning into peter.

"ugh," sarah, you kind-of friend started, "my boss gave me a premotion."

"what the fuck are you complaining about?" alyssa scoffed.

"because! it means that i have to do more...! like, i'll have to get up earlier. i dunno if i'll take it. it's cooler than the one i have now, but but it's not as comforting."

you spoke up, completely confident, "commit to change. either embrace the challenge of pursuing your destiny or shy way and live in regret."

collective "oohs" and "damns" were heard around the table, and you reveled in it.

"okay, girl, you go."

"parker, when did your girlfriend get a braincell upgrade?" you looked at peter, waiting for him to shoot something back, but he didn't. you frowned slightly, going back to the salad.

it went on like that, you would pipe in and offer self-help advice (not really knowing what it meant) hoping for peter's attention. sometimes you got it, and sometimes you didn't.

it was fine, you wanted him to notice you. after all, you weren't reading for fun. you were doing it for him, so... just, like, notice already.

you'd been focusing so much on the self-help books, your nails had grown out, leaving space between your nail bed and acrylics. deciding to take some time away from the books and all their un-understandable wisdom, you wanted to paint your nails.

nothing to big, but more simple. you were finding it hard to turn the page with the large charms on the acrylics you normally had to.

you found some 100% acetone in your bathroom, so you soaked your nails, waiting for the acrylics to come off. once they got loose enough, they came off easily.

you did some prepping, then picked out two different shades of pink. you were about to start when you heard two long knocks, then two short ones.

(it was peter's special knock, so you'd always know when it was him.)

"come in!" you called out, and you saw a head of fluffy brown hair peek in.

"hey," he said, slipping in your room.

"hi, petey!"

he came up from behind you, hugging your waist. "whatcha doing?"

you opened a bottle of nail paint, "painting my nails."

"cute colors," he kissed your cheek, and you leaned in.

"right? pink is so pretty," you gushed.

"what are these?" peter asked, and you looked over curious as to what he was talking about.

"oh, just, like, lyss' books."

"yeah, but why're they in here?" he read the back of one, raising a brow.

you continued painting your nails, trying to appear chill. "i was reading them."

he seemed to do a double-take, and you frowned, "what?"

"nothing- nothing, i just..."

"i know how to read," you said, shoulders sagging. "i'm smarter than a third-grader," you didn't catch the slip-up, but he did.

that caught him off guard there, "what?"

"what?" looking up, you finally met his eyes.

"you said you- well, yeah, i know. you just don't-" he paused, "self-help books didn't seem like your thing is all. oh, is that why've you been saying all that?"

"saying what?"

"all the-" he didn't want to hurt your feelings, but if he was right, he already had. "the, um, advice?" he stammered. peter didn't trip over his words often, and you knew that.

you were sure that he knew that you knew, but you weren't sure if he knew for sure.

you shrugged, "doesn't it sound smart?"

"no, yeah, it does." he's treading very carefully. it was quiet for a brief moment; "did you hear?"

"hear what?"

"the... the comment i made?"

"oh, that one about me being stupid, but good in bed?" you said it so casually, as if it didn't bother you at all.

but it did. he knew it did.

he sighed, "i'm really sorry, baby."

"for what?"

"for saying that."

"no, you're sorry you got caught. you wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it."

"i didn't- i was drunk," peter tried again.

"drunk words are sober thoughts," something else you read, you aren't sure where.

he was starting to get really nervous. he didn't know what was going through your head, normally he had a good idea, but it wasn't anything like this. it didn't seem like you hated him, but he wasn't about to take advantage.

"no, i-"

"it's okay. i'm working on it," you said, trying to make him feel better. as if you were the one who'd messed up, not peter. the idea itself was insane to him, and it only made him feel worse.

"angel," peter started, "this is not your fault. please don't make it your fault. i'm the one who messed up, and what i said was not okay. it was a stupid, drunk joke, and i shouldn't said it."

you blew on your nails, blinking back your tears. mascara, the good stuff, was expensive. you looked up, shocked to see tears in his eyes. you don't think you've ever seen him cry before. well, maybe once, when you watched "titanic" with him.

peter wasn't one to get emotional, he still denied ever crying over that movie.

"it's okay," you repeated again. you were dumb, you knew that. it really wasn't his fault, you shouldn't have pushed him to feel like that.

"but it's not. and i know you know that, please tell me what i can do to make it better."

"but-"

"no, it's not," he said sternly, "and i cannot stress that enough. i'm really sorry, baby."

you capped the polish, you didn't know what to say. it wasn't your fault? okay, fine.

maybe he was right.

"i got really upset," you admitted.

"i know, baby," the tears are falling, he quickly wipes them away.

"did you really mean it?"

"no, no, no, of course not. i absolutely love you the way you are, and you shouldn't have to change yourself for anyone- especially not for me."

"so you don't think i'm only good for sex?"

"baby, no, baby, no!" baby, he used that word for affection; when he was guilty, trying to prove something to you... in this case, how sorry he was. "you are good for so many other things," he paused, "okay, that didn't sound great."

he took a deep breath, taking your freshly painted hands in yours, "don't mess up the polish," you warned, even though you were tearing up.

peter smiled slightly, that meant you weren't too upset, right? that he hadn't fucked everything up by great means?

"i haven't ever met someone like you, who loves me the same back. and i don't mean generally, but romantically. lots of people can't put up with me," he started, "but you do, and jesus, baby, i'm so greatful for that- and you," peter added.

"you are the bright pink light of my life. you're so different from other girls i've been with, you see me. you don't look at me, you see me. like, okay, maybe you aren't the greatest at math, but you don't have to be a s.t.e.m. genius to be smart."

peter was getting raw, he was getting vunerable. "i don't know how to use a curling iron for the life of me, i don't know the difference between mascara and eyeliner. well, i do, but i didn't before you."

you looked at him, opening your mouth to speak. you wanted to tell him he'd lost you somewhere along the line, but figured it was important for him to get this out.

"you've got a different mindset than me, and i love that. you're the biggest feminist i've ever met, and wait until you meet may. i think it's interesting that your entire personality doesn't revolve around your degrees and resumes, because, god, people like that are annoying. most of all, you're confidence is amazing. i never had anything like that in high school."

you knew that he was a nerd, kept his head down, shoulders sagging. "i just... i'm sorry. i don't know why i said it. i'm a huge insecure jerk that thinks he can get away with crap by projecting it onto his lovely, amazing, wonderful girlfriend. you're my favorite person, and i can't help but think you'll leave me one day. i thought that if i acted like i didn't care... i don't know. i- i don't... i'm sorry."

you took moment, that's the longest he's ever spoken to you, but he wasn't done, apparently.

"also, i don't care about sex. i mean, it's nice and whatever, but what's the point of it if i don't have you. what i'm trying to say is, i'd pick you over that any day, okay? it doesn't matter to me. i'm not with you for that."

"thank you," you said, it seemed appropriate. basically, he just compliented you a whole lot, and it worked; you seem to have a thing for praising. "and i forgive you. also, i hated those stupid books, and if they weren't, like, alyssa's, i'd burn them."

you shuddered, "i can't believe i read them."

"really?" peter asked, hopeful. you kissed away a stray tear, looking into his wet eyes. "we're okay?"

"we're so okay," you paused, "but you have to watch bridgerton with me."

he groaned, "fine." (you knew he liked it, he just wouldn't ever admit to it.)

"wait, so just checking, you aren't into, like, intellectuals or whatever?"

"i'm into you," he said, "whether or not you idenify as one."

taglist: @whatsupstark @ell0ra-br3kk3r @idli-dosa @susvale @kdbsr-h @littlemsbumblebee @sflame15-blog @twinsunkithies @chocolateshepherddreamclod

[dollwrites]

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!nun!reader, dub con, coercion, corruption, kaeya is a little manipulative and maybe like, soft!dark, size kink, virgin reader, oral sex ( f!receiving ), all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day three [ kaeya alberich + corruption ]

“I— I don’t know,” you were sheepishly whispering in furious puffs of hot air against the fabric of his glove as it lightly pressed over your lips, your eyeline flickering to the chapel doors. “I don’t think I’m supposed to be doing this…” thankfully, the doors were still shut. however, you knew that at any moment, any one of your sisters could stroll inside and see you clinging to the Calvary Captain, your body pressed against the altar and angled with one ankle hooked up on his waist.

“Shh, shh, shh…” Kaeya had a gentle voice, though. a smooth, easy tone in which he crooned in your ear. “What did I tell you, sweet girl?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait on your answer, planting a soft kiss against the shell of your ear. “Blessing me before a daunting mission is part of your duties. You do want me to return to Mondstadt unharmed and victorious, yes?”

“O-of course, but—“

but you weren’t so certain that his free hand slipping between your legs and cupping your core under your skirt was allowed. you were still learning the ins and outs of your new life in Mondstadt, and what was expected of you as a servant of Barbatos, but something about the swiftness of his movements, as if he were hyper aware of the surroundings and the need to take what he wanted quickly, and the sugary whispers into your ear, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear, clued you in: you shouldn’t be allowing him this access to your body.

“Of course you do,” he swoons, long and svelte, strong fingers teasing the fabric of your panties. you can’t help but let out a flustered whimper at the brand new, electrifying sensation, one of your own hands reaching down to clamp a fist around his wrist. “Because you’re a good, good girl, aren’t you?” he chortles, as if amused by the sentiment.

you nod, your countenance scrunching as he presses his fingers hard against your button through the now damp fabric. you wanted to tell him yes, but the sensation caught you off guard, and he had to cradle your mouth tighter in his palm to keep you from crying out. the little sound that did escape, however, spurred an elated twinkle in his eyes. he clearly liked the way your body responded to him. “Aw, such a sensitive, little sweetheart. You’ve never felt this before?” he was nearly taunting you, a killer smile dancing along his lips as he pulls back just enough to study your face. from where he stood, he was still taller than you, even with you boosted up on the second step of the altar, his tiers are parted, allowing ragged, warm breath to pass through and tickle your steaming cheeks.

“N—no, I’ve never—“ peeking up at him, your body writhes at his merciless rubbing. “I’ve never been touched like t-this…” for some reason, you felt embarrassed. you wondered just how many sultry, experienced women Kaeya Alberich has slept with, and here you were, unable to hold consistent eye contact with his hand between your legs. “I-I’m not supposed to—“

“With me, it’s okay.” he assured with a smirk, “Trust me, sweet girl.” you wanted to. you wanted to so badly that you nod, slowly, staring up at him in awe and wonder. he chuckles, and nods, his hand on your mouth careening downwards to hook his forefinger beneath your chin and guide your face up higher, angle it for his lips to find yours. “There you go. I can see it in your eyes. Just keep looking at me like that and I will take good care of you, little sister.”

his fingertips work in tandem with his words, pulling your panties to one side so he can feel your slick— vulnerable and bare. and you whimper, your grip tightening around his wrist when he pushes his middle finger inside. his tanzanite gaze lingering on your face to gauge your willingness. “My, my, you are tight, hm?” he grins, allowing his knuckle to act as a bumper, ensuring he doesn’t push too deep too fast, and instead, he twists the digit, curling to tease your spongy, clenching canal. the feeling of your spasming from the inside releases a guttural groan that bubbles up slowly, vibrating in his mouth. “I’ll have to be so gentle with you, I’d bet you’d sing like a pretty little bird if I put my cock in you.”

you exhale a breath of shock or, perhaps, excitement. the idea of him taking you so carnally had your head spinning.

“K—Kaeya, you can’t—“

he grins at that, rubbing his finger pad along the side of your fluttering interior, and you practically melt against his sturdy chest. “Oh, I wouldn’t dare. Not until you’ve been properly trained. What kind of a man do you take me for, sister?” his voice is full of playful nature and giddiness, before he pecks your lips again. there’s something lurking beneath his soft, hypnotizing voice, but you can’t place it. you can’t imagine Kaeya to be wicked, so you let the fleeting clue dissipate. “But you will still have to bless me somehow, no?”

“How?”

maybe you shouldn’t have asked, because your cheeks burned like twin ovens when Kaeya dropped to his knees before you.

“W-what are you—?!”

Kaeya laughs again, his fingers slipping from you to, instead, trail along the back of your knee and up your thigh towards your ass, gripping a firm handful as he pulls you closer. nuzzling his nose into the side of your kneecap, he allows his lips to drag lazy, partially opened-mouth kisses over the delicate skin, his stormy eyeline flickering up to watch you. you could see, even through his bangs, that his gaze was heavily lidded, as if he were already enjoying himself. “So nervous. So adorable.” he purrs, tilting his head. his teeth are sharper than you anticipate when he pulls at the soft, sensitive skin on your thigh with them, and you let out a whimper. “But these pretty, little sounds you make are oh-so tempting. If I were any less of a man, I would have to fuck you out right here, until you could no longer stand up, and leave you crumbled on the floor oozing cum.” Kaeya is hyper aware of the flash of anxiety over your features, and the sight causes him to swoon. he likes that he can frighten you. “Is that thought a scary one? To know that I’m restraining every primal urge I have to impale you on my cock and let you break on it?” when you, wide eyed and trembling, nod, he grins and places another gentle kiss over the bite mark he’d left on your leg, smearing saliva into the grooves. “Mm, but I wouldn’t do that to you, little sister. That would be far too easy a task, to break your little mind quick and hard. I’d like to see, instead, you have a little taste of me and then spiral into madness and lust all on your own, until your virgin cunt weeps whenever you so much as stand next to me in this very cathedral. You’ll beg me to fuck you into oblivion, and when you’re finally so desperate that salty tears stream down your cheeks, I will be the gentleman and give you exactly what you want. Sounds fun, doesn’t it?”

your heart pounds hard against your rib cage and you try to take a deep breath, but it’s almost as if every gulp of potential oxygen escapes you as Kaeya’s head disappears under your skirt, to smash his mouth against your netherlips. scrambling, your knees tuck inward, although they do little to push him out, snagging against his powerful chest, and you try to shove at the bobbing, round bulge of the crown of his head underneath your dress. “K-Kaeya!” you croak; your mind floods with the brand new ecstasy of being pleasured upon the swirling of his thick, skilled tongue over your swelling clit.

“Shh, now,” he purrs— his baritone slurred against your sex as he laps at you. using his dominant hand, planting it on your core so his fingers spread your folds and expose your bundle of hyper-sensitive nerves to him, he busies the other by snaking it up to clamp against your mouth again. “You’re in a church, remember?”

mewling against the warmth of his palm swaddled in fabric, your eyes are wide, staring up into the cavernous, vaulted ceiling as his mouth works between your legs. tongue and teeth teasing your button, until those wide eyes of yours begin to cross, your lashes fluttering. taking in every new, electrifying sensation.

“Aren’t you just so easy to play with?” Kaeya grunts, shifting on his knees to get a better angle, his tongue delving downwards to tease your virgin hole, that spasms and clenches in response to his threat of invasion. he gurgles a happy sound. “Sensitive and shy, but your body knows best, little sister. You want to cum, no?”

embarrassed, you let out a muffled, uncertain: “Y-yes…!” against his hand, but both of yours are working to grasp handfuls of your skirt and pull it back to see exactly what he’s doing down there. you can’t help yourself— you let out a breathy and flustered whimper upon seeing his face between your legs, a quarter of it shiny with your slick, and his tanzanite eye nearly closed. he looked drunk off your taste, a subtle red tint blessing his cheeks, but when he catches you looking, his lips spread into a knowing grin.

“That’s a good girl, just give into it.” Kaeya pulls back only enough to speak, his warm breath fanning your vulnerable core with each word, and watching how your hips twitch towards him. “Needy thing. Like an animal. Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’ll see to it that you’re teased and pleased until your legs give out. After I’m done with you today, you’ll only dream of what else I can and will do to your fragile, little body once I return to Mondstadt.” he pauses for a moment, before he adds in a playful, amused whisper, placing a kiss on your inner thigh, “I think I’ll enjoy coming home to see how willingly you offer yourself up to me next time.”

[kugokizs]

DEVILISH | F. TOJI (m)

what was supposed to be a chill night alone turns into a fight for your life; Toji has been watching you, waiting for the best moment to strike, and he’s finally found the right time — but why are you so utterly enticing?

PAIRING: toji x fem! reader

WARNINGS: dub-con, serial killer!toji, predator and prey dynamics, mentions of murder/violence, breeding, mating press, degrading, mentions of stalking, morally grey character, dumbification, size kinkkkk, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, pussy eating, oh and they have sex outside… on the ground. lmk if i’m missing anything !!!

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

A/N: i honestly can’t remember if i based this off scream or scary movie but toji is a serial killer !! pls be advised, view at your own risk, pls my loves, keep yourself safe!! send me an ask or reblog if you enjoyed !! tysmm.

NOW PLAYING: all i need by lloyd, one night only by sonder, devilish by chase atlantic, & skin by rihanna.

Toji Fushiguro is a very sinister man.

He holds grudges, is very keen on practicing “eye for an eye”, and he holds dear his power over weak, vulnerable, young women. He prowls for the pleasure of it, for the thrill — to hear them beg for mercy, for one more chance. They beg on their knees as if he’s a God, the bringer of all evil, the grim reaper, the devil himself. And, Toji thinks, maybe he is. After all, who else could invoke such fear in people. Who else could cause someone to shiver just at the mention of his name? To run for the hills at any sign of danger. Who else could do what he does? No one, and that’s what makes him enjoy it even more.

Toji Fushiguro is a very sinister man, and right now he has his eyes on you. It’s been months, bumping into you at the grocery store, handing you things that you’ve dropped accidentally, holding the door open for you, dropping food on your doorstep — he’s seen it all. Late nights with friends, early morning at university, skipping lunch to study in the library… Toji has been there. Watching, waiting, prowling. Ever since the first time he saw you he’s wanted you, to add you to his ever growing collection, to keep you, to make you his. You’re his. And the only one between you both who didn’t know that yet, was you.

He has a foot buried in your grass, a cap hanging low on his head and a knife tucked inside his jacket. He makes sure to move with precision, watching out for the automated sprinklers and for any animals that might come looking. After all this time he knows the routine well. He knows when you’re staying home all night, what time you usually shower, when you eat, everything. He knows you’re a naturally anxious person, jumping at any sudden movements or noises, and he also knows you’re careless. Blasting music on flimsy headphones, falling asleep to the sound in your ear, oblivious to the world around you. Oblivious to the devil creeping on your doorstep.

He crouches down low, your blinds open just enough that he can see you plopped down on your couch with a bowl of ice cream in hand and a silly movie playing on the TV. Your legs are curled up, oversized pajama pants falling over the soles of your feet, and your attention solely on what’s playing in front of you. Toji’s been inside your house before, on the rare days where he wasn’t following you around he made his way through the place, memorizing the layout, seeing which rooms were the most lived-in, taking his time to appreciate your bedroom and all it had to offer. Drawers upon drawers of lingerie greeted him when he peaked inside — he didn’t think you had it in you. His fingerprints would’ve been all over the place if not for gloves, his face on every camera if he hadn’t known all the blindspots. And thank God you didn’t have cameras inside, because then it’d only make it harder for him, and if you wanted something a little less painful when your time was up, it was best you didn’t piss him off.

Though Toji thinks he might play with you a bit. You’re interesting, just anxious enough to get by yet careless and reckless enough to get caught in a stupid situation. You’re pretty — innocent in the sexiest way possible. You look like you’d go dumb for a taste of his cock and that’s exactly what he likes most about you, but he knows you’ve got a good head on your shoulders and he appreciates that, too.

The moon shines a ghastly glow over his features right as the end credits of the movie start to run, and that’s when he decides it’s time to play. He picks up a smooth, round, pebble — no bigger than a quarter, and throws it so that it hits the window pane. He crouches down just the smallest bit lower, eyes peeking over the blinds and he trusts the darkness to obscure him. He knows that you won’t ever get close enough to actually look through them, and he’s right. Always so easily frightened, like a little lamb. You freeze where you’re sitting, head whipping around to look at where the sound came from, and you pause for only a few moments, watching and waiting to see if it comes again. At least a minute passes before you turn back to the TV, curling in on yourself and tucking your lip between your teeth.

Toji can barely stifle the giggle that threatens to leave his lips, it feels like childish glee watching you get so scared from a measly little rock against your window, but he does it again, throwing it harder now, and the sound echoes so loudly that he can hear it bounce back from inside your living room. This time you stand up, looking back towards the window and stepping forward, head tilting downwards as you try to see through the blinds. You squint at the glare from your lights and otherwise stay silent. Toji is sure your heart is beating erratically, your hands starting to shake, and he thanks God that you have so many windows. You don’t sit back down, instead looking around the room and muting the TV. You stay like that for a long time, you’ve always been so overly paranoid, and it fills Toji with immense satisfaction to know that he’s the one doing this to you.

He walks away from the window, allowing you to rotate methodically on uneasy feet and a rapidly beating heart, creeping around to the back door and picking the locks. He’s already deactivated the back camera and dropped a cat by your front porch so it didn’t seem too suspicious that you weren’t getting alerts. He knows that’s it’s rare anything ever triggers the back camera, and you feel too secure with the gate locking it from the outside. He’s easily bypassed those barriers, and now he simply opens the door. He knows you have sensors to tell you when the door has been open and shut, and he didn’t bother shutting those off. He wants to see how scared you can really get.

He shuts the door and slips into the closet, covering his lone figure with various jackets and scarves that hang from the hooks. There’s boxes and bottles of cleaning supplies piled at the bottom, and they block his legs from view. He’s still, silent, and patient. He hears your footsteps rushing towards the door, your heavy breathing, your frantic whispers of “Oh God,” and his eyes all but roll back in undeniable pleasure. He’s going to ruin you.

Your footsteps get nearer before they stop, you’re most likely looking through the window of the now closed back door, hands trembling and knees weak in fear. You’re probably on the verge of tears, barely holding in a whimper. He doesn’t hear you step away, but he can see your shadow from under the door. Hmm. You’re trying to be cautious now, are you? Toji already knows this routine. You’ll run to grab your phone, call someone, try to get in your car and drive away. Maybe grab a large kitchen knife just in case, but what are the chances of you actually using it? Toji has practice, he’s skilled, he’s used to this. You, a lone studious girl who’s paranoid but way too careless for her own good, has never stabbed anyone in her life. Has never even imagined it, so what’s the chances of you dropping the knife before it can even plunge into him? Maybe trying to get away with a scratch in the arm or a stab to the leg, but Toji has enough scars for that to not even matter. He’ll keep coming and there’ll be nowhere for you to hide.

But he’s gonna let you try, let you think there’s a chance for you to run for the hills, maybe get to some help in time, he’ll let that relieved smile flit itself upon your face before he comes back to rip that hope from your body, just to do it all over again until the fight leaves you completely. Maybe he’ll let you reach someone in time, someone innocent, and then kill them right in front of you. Make sure you realize that this is your fault, you did this, you put this innocent person in danger. You murderer. You killed them. You.

Toji realizes he has a lot to think about.

Your chest pounds with the rapid beating of your heart. Your legs barely hold your weight and threaten to crumble with every movement, shaking every time you stop and wobbling uncontrollably when you run. You grab a knife from the kitchen counter and run back to the living room and grab your phone. It all started with the random sounds coming from the window. They came out of nowhere, pounding harder and harder until they stopped completely. You had thought you saw someone moving behind the blinds but chalked it up to paranoia. It’s been raining a lot more recently, so maybe it was just the rain pouring down onto the windows.

You tried to go back to your movie after that, you had clutched your phone tightly despite reassuring yourself multiple times that it was nothing. There was nothing there. You were almost able to relax. Almost, before your security system alerted you of the back door opening. At that moment it felt like your heart had lurched out of your chest, as if the shock and fear had paralyzed and crippled you completely. The silence was suddenly too thick — too loud, and it was all you could do to attempt to heave yourself up and off the couch to investigate. You already knew you should never venture deeper, never look for the source of the sound, but you needed to see.

When you got to the back door it was already shut. You’d ventured on tippy toes to look through the small window and there was nothing there. Yet you couldn’t stop the way your breath left you in heavy gasps, the acrid smell of fear and anxiousness seeping from you in waves. You didn’t forget the closet right in front of the door, but you knew you’d never be able to open the door without shaky limbs. If there was someone in there, you’d let them leave of their own accord. You were leaving immediately. You slowly stepped away, looking up to the ceiling and clutching your lip tightly between your teeth. Sweat formed at the top of your mouth and you felt like you were going to throw up. Your throat ached, your stomach was in knots, and you felt like you could collapse at any second.

You crossed the living room with amble speed, grabbing a jacket from the hook by your front door and running outside. Rain dropped down in an angered flurry, beating the pavement with troubled fists, and your shoes were soaked with water before you could fully cross your front lawn. You scrambled to get the car door open, throwing yourself inside ungracefully. The first thing you did was look in the backseat before locking the doors and wasted no time taking off out your driveway and into the streets. You wanted to play music, blast it even, it was what calmed you always and without it you were leaving yourself vulnerable to the fear you’d been trying to ignore. You’d be able to get away — far, far, away — and sometime in the future you’d forget this night ever happened. You’d contact the authorities, move somewhere tropical maybe, and pray they never came looking.

The fear was slowly starting to easen, there were no cars following you, no weird men in the road, nothing but the stars and the moon and the lone sound of rain. You were slowly starting to relax, allowing yourself to take a few deep breaths, before a hazard sign started blaring on your dashboard.

Flat tire.

Flat tire?

You kept driving, desperate for a few more miles between you and home, but your car didn’t appreciate that, and you came to a stop. A fear-mongering, bone-chilling, stop.

You couldn’t afford to waste time, you had to keep moving. You jumped out the car, a tight grip on your knife in one hand and your phone in the other. Your feet splashed in large puddles, the streets lined with thick trees that had never looked so imposing until now. A quick look around told you that you were alone, but you couldn’t be sure. You kept moving, rushing but not moving too fast where the sounds of your splashing would drown any other noises out. Your hand curled tightly on the knife as if it was a lifeline, and your phone was inside your pocket — kept safe from the rain. Streetlights shined down from above, blinding white lights that illuminated the entire area before you, and you were grateful for it but loathed it all at the same time. Bright lights mean you could see everything around you, but it also meant anything around could see you too.

Your breath was shaky, every exhale felt like it would be your last, but you didn’t stop moving. The brushing of trees or a snap of a branch would make you jump and squeal in fear just to see it was a product of the wind or your own feet pressing against wood. Ahead you could see the shadows of houses, loud and imposing in structure, and your legs carried you faster with a new found determination. Your vision was blurry with tears of relief and raindrops that sat on your eyelashes, just to be blocked by something — something warm and soft, something sturdy, something breathing.

You couldn’t help the shrill scream that left your lips, but it was drowned out by the storm anyway. You stomped hard on his boot and sliced, not sure if you hurt him but giving yourself a chance to run away. Your legs pumped with adrenaline, your eyes wide in fright. Your grip on the knife only got even tighter, your nails embedding themselves lightly in your palm, but you had to keep going. Any noises became muffled as you ran, the sounds of trees rustling in the wind, rain slapping against the pavement, your feet slamming against the ground. His own feet moving leisurely behind you. It all became nothing but background noise to the pounding of your heart.

“There you are, little lamb.”

The whimper that leaves your lips has Toji grinning in delight. He surges forward, trapping you between strong arms and a broad chest, pressing against you tightly and dragging you backwards. You claw at his arms, kick your feet, and use the knife to slash at any part of his body that you could. You didn’t make it easy, and you could hear him growl in frustration. He tipped the knife out of your hands and then gripped your arm with a frightening intensity, you bit your lip to stop the cry of pain from leaving your mouth.

“Stop fighting.”

“Ugh, get off me!” You cried, and you bit at the skin of his arm, hard, and he pushed you off, allowing you to fall flat on your back. You groaned, rolling over on your side before a dark shadow loomed over you. You winced, your eyes shutting in fear before strong fingers gripped your chin.

“Not so fiesty anymore? We were having lots of fun,” He cooed, a devilish grin forming on his — and you hate to say it — near perfect features. The only blemish on his face was the small scar over his lips, and even that made him look attractive. You lost your breath for a short moment, staring into unforgiving eyes and at pearly white teeth, before you came back to your senses and jerked your knee upwards into a firm abdomen. When the man didn’t even bother to pretend to be hurt you did it again, but this time you used your hands to push him backwards as well. He stumbled just a little, but it was enough for you to jump to your feet and start running back in the direction you came.

“You’ll stop if you know what’s good for you,” The man grumbled, but you didn’t stop moving. You wouldn’t. You didn’t bother screaming for help this time and ran straight through unforgiving trees and underbrush. You weren’t worried about getting lost anymore and could only focus on losing him and getting away.

Except he must’ve known, because gone was the leisurely pace he’d originally held. He ran through the trees with crippling speed, and it was all you could do not to yelp in fear and keep moving. But it didn’t seem like any speed you took was fast enough, for he kept getting closer and closer. It was just your luck that you’d trip over the roots of a large tree, falling flat on your face. You attempted to scramble backwards before he could reach you, but your limbs were growing tired, your brain was ready to shut off, and not even the adrenaline could keep the paralyzing fear from your veins. you whimpered as a large hand grabbed at your ankle, dragging you through the mud and leaves.

“Come on, little lamb, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

All you could do is bite your lip to stop the whimpers and cries from flooding out. You squeezed your eyes shut, stiffening when soft lips brushed against your skin. “We can have fun, can’t we?” He murmured, and your breath left you in a shudder. Calloused hands rubbed against the skin exposed by the lift of your shirt, and small puffs of breath knocked against the shell of your ear. “Do you wanna have fun?”

Your heart kicks up an irritating notch when he slides a warm hand up your shirt. You can feel the way his fingers ghost over your skin with an unnatural intensity, as if his touch is amplified tenfold.

“Look at me, pretty,” He growls, your eyes opening at his command against your better judgement. His pupils are dilated, staring down at you with desire. The way he looks at you is an awakening, and with a foreign feeling surging through you, you bury your fingers into the collar of his shirt, bringing him down for a kiss. It’s a little awkward with your apprehension, your fear, your desire to just give up — all teeth and clumsy movements until he takes the lead. He licks into your mouth, coaxing feelings out of you you've never felt before— kissing you into blissful dizziness.

"I wonder why you're so pretty, hm? Been torturing me for months, sweet thing," He hums, pressing your thighs apart, tongue pushing against yours, his lips cherry red. You want to kiss him again.

Your breath hitches when his hands move to your pants, slipping under the hem and unbuttoning the fabric. When he pulls your pants down slowly, so slowly it feels like time stands still, all that’s on your mind is him. His breathing, his touch, the cold feeling of his fingers. When your pink, lacy panties come into view the chuckle Toji lets out is so deep it feels like a heavy blanket over your mind, soothing you yet igniting something in you that you didn’t know existed. God, you’re in the demon's bed but you feel like you’ve gotten a taste of heaven, and when those soft, cherry red lips ghost over your skin, trailing over your pelvis, leaving light kisses along your skin, all you can do is jerk in his hold.

"Pretty little lambs deserve to know what it feels like to have me right here,” Toji starts, leaning down to press a trail of kisses to your inner thigh. He bites and marks along the fleshiest parts, chuckling at your quiet whimpers and yelps. He slides a hand up between your thighs and rubs between your folds, still covered by your lacy panties. “Aren’t you scared?” Toji murmurs, before splitting them to rub your clit through the fabric. You feel like falling as he circles between your thighs, a gasp hiccupping at the base of your throat before it gets stuck— you can’t make a sound.

You faintly hear the rustle of clothing and the absence of Toji’s touch, opening your eyes to see him pulling his shirt off, biceps flexing as he does. He’s so big, and fuck, his whole body could cover your own if he really wanted. He towers over you, caging you in and surrounding you from all sides. When his shirt is off and thrown somewhere to the floor, he looms over you, his hands pressing into the bedding at either side of your head, and all you can do is gasp— your eyes widening at his proximity.

You allow him to pull your underwear down until they’re hanging off your ankle, your arousal sticks to the fabric, but with a flick of his wrist they’re gone. They’re gone. Oh god. You’re really doing this. You take a deep breath, and when a warm hand comes to press against your cheek you yelp. It’s okay. You’re okay. Right?

Soft lips press against your skin, tainting the unmarked flesh with bites and bruises. He paints your neck purple and blue, fingers ghosting between your thighs, tracing and playing with the obvious wetness coating your arousal. His mouth travels upwards, pressing against your own as he claims your lips in a devouring kiss. Everything is on fire, hot and burning as lust begins to entirely consume you.

A small moan slips past your lips as he dips a finger into your slick, warm cunt, and you clench around the digit almost immediately as instinct. The cool air and your nerves make your thighs tremble, but it doesn’t seem to affect him— not at all— if the way he keeps eye contact with you while he fingers you slowly is any indicator. Painfully slow. You don’t know if this is to pleasure you or torture you, and you can’t help the way your thighs tense under his ministrations.

His eyes roam over the look on your face, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, bright eyes glazed over and hooded in a bliss that’s otherwise foreign to you, a particular ease directed towards him. Then he shamelessly lets his eyes drop down to your thighs that tremble even harsher under his gaze. The action only forces his mind to run wild. He can’t help but wonder how you do it— looking all innocent— being all innocent but acting like you’re not. Like you’re so sure. You’re confused, God, you don’t know what real pleasure is— and it’s Toji’s job to teach you. Fuck, did he want to be under you, gazing up at you through half lidded eyes, hungrily eating up the sight of you bouncing on his cock like the slut you could be.

He dipped his head down, and your hands automatically perched themselves on his shoulders, and he grins, moving the finger thrusting into your cunt harsher, faster.

“Oh, god,” You moaned, loud, your grip on his bare shoulders tightening ever so slight. His skin was warm under your fingers— soft and smooth and fuck if it didn’t feel good.

He groaned, cock stiffening more than it already had. At this rate he was probably going to cum in his pants untouched, but he held himself back. He moved his mouth from yours to slip lower, down lower and lower still until he came face to face with your arousal.

“Fuck. You’re driving me crazy.”

You tried to quiet your moans by clamping a hand over your mouth, but sitting up and watching the way he sucked and licked at your arousal made your head spin. He made the action so nasty. So filthy. He was wild yet careful. But what did you know? All you knew was that it was driving you insane and you didn’t know anything could feel this good.

One hand supported his weight on the ground by your head while the other was preoccupied, curled around his cock as he stared down at you— something akin to a beast in his gaze. Tip reddened and precum oozing from the slit while he groaned. The tingly feeling in your groin was coming back, similar to the fluttering you always felt whenever a boy you liked would come bother you. It intensifies when Toji wraps your legs around his waist and pulls you closer to him, your body dragging grass from under you.

He rubs the tip of his cock against your pussy, teasing actions feeling more like torture before he finally sinks in. Slowly, deliberately, but you still tense. It’s scary, having something stick itself inside of you. Having him stick himself inside you.

“Relax,” Toji murmurs, pressing his mouth to your cheek. “You’re having fun, right?”

Dark eyes are locked intensely on your cunt, Toji watching the slide of his cock as he thrusts inside. His hair is plastered along his forehead, and he sinks back into your inviting walls with another roll of his hips.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.”

You moan, high and light, your eyes fluttering closed in bliss while Toji’s chest expands with a satisfied breath. He rolls his hips into yours— sinking his cock into your cunt saying the filthiest words you’ve ever known, before his words break off into a moan, his tone lower and deeper.

“Oh, please don’t stop— be nice to me,” You babble, your hands grabbing at whatever you can— his shoulders, his back, his hair; and that’s all it takes before he suddenly takes up a pace that’s a little faster, rougher as your pussy squelches, wet and messy while your arousal smears along your thighs and the ground below you.

Your body jolts with each thrust, pussy clenching around him as Toji moans—every twitch and squeeze of your pussy leaving him breathless. “Come on, little lamb,” He groans, and you don’t know what to do. You’re too lost in the haze of pleasure that’s taken over you— you can’t hear past the slap of your skin and his groans in your ear. You know you’re moaning, but you can barely hear yourself. It’s all him. Him all over you, surrounding you, making you feel good.

He grunts as you clench down on him with another roll of his hips, sinking deeper into you with each thrust. “That’s it, pretty,” he grunts, “Taking me so well, fuck. So greedy for me.” And you tense up, your body convulsing and arching upwards as his thrusts grow more frantic— harsher and harsher as he groans gutturally in your ear with one last thrust long and deep, and when something shoots deep inside, you shiver one last time before your body sinks into the grass and debris and Toji’s weight cases you in.

You feel boneless, lethargic with your movement. You feel when the man gets off you, when he closes your legs after slipping your underwear back on. You hear it when he sighs, something deep and satisfied, and you barely manage to answer when he asks you how you feel. Yet, somehow, it all comes back to you in a flash. You sit up, head throbbing, and stare up at him. Wide-eyed and fearful.

“Please don’t kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel.”

He grins, “I think we can work something out.”

a/n: excuse the corny ending i couldn’t help myself

[spacexseven]

i understand the appeal of god!reader hurting fyodor mentally, like its something i look forward to reading but imagine him sobbing when you praise him even a little bit or show him the slightest affection, i want that proud man dependant on me 😁

don't worry, he already is

cw: yandere character, slight anime spoilers

spread out before you was the final blueprint to what would soon become something pivotal to fyodor's—and by extension, your—plans. you studied it closely, looking at each floor, each room, each balcony. you studied the layout carefully, and find that everything had been chosen with careful consideration, from the tiles to the wallpaper, even the tables and the lights.

fyodor wordlessly places sheets of papers into your waiting hand, without you even having to ask. apart from the soft greeting he entered your room with, no other sound has escaped him yet; a stark contrast to his usual visits. but today is no ordinary visit. he has come to seek your guidance, and awaits your decision.

you're genuinely impressed; this amount of detail and meticulous planning would have taken weeks, if not months to prepare, and it strikes you again that everything fyodor was doing now was full of determination and care, even if he was callous about the lives lost along the way, he would have done anything to ensure this goal of his comes true. you suppose your presence has only encouraged him to work harder.

after another round of inspection, you sort out the papers he just handed you, the last remaining sheets from the book that had been aquired for the doa's use, and begin to write down the existance of the sky casino. you describe everything about it in great detail, not missing out even a word in fear that something would go wrong otherwise. and as you wrote, you can feel a familiar power surge through you, and you can almost see the casino come to life.

when you're done, you hand all your tools back to him. his serious expression hasn't changed since he stepped foot inside your room, and suddenly, you're seized with a unfamiliar, melancholic sensation.

"you've done well," you fill the silence, "you have...surpassed my expectations of you. to be honest, i thought it was a foolish pursuit at first, a casino in the sky. but you have proved yourself to me with this. tomorrow we will go see the casino—together."

fyodor's eyes widen, and his lips twitch ever so slightly.

you let out a chuckle, "i have to say, this expression suits you as well."

he lowers his eyes immediately, the tips of his ears flushed red and his hands trembling, clenched tightly around the papers and pen.

"this humble servant of yours only wishes to please you, my lord. i am not deserving of your praise," he whispers, "i am not deserving of your attention."

words cannot describe the immense satisfaction you feel from hearing the wavering of his voice, relishing in the effect you have over him.

"go now," you're already tired of his presence, though this was much more bearable than the usual routine, "and make yourself useful."

he doesn't look mad, despite your rude dismissal. you think even if you were to strike him down and humiliate him, he would still not be upset or angry. but this position suits him best; not that of the evil mastermind he portrays himself to be.

no, only you know the real fyodor dostoevsky.

[harasharaved]

Jason Todd Fics - September 2023

Fics I recommend with a focus on or POV of Jason Todd. Masterpost can be found here.

Key: Has a ship or romantic plot, unfinished, multi-chapter, one-shot

NOTE: some of these do require an AO3 Account to read.

Whisper Closely in My Ear by Kangarou

The words went in one ear, rattled around like bees, before ramming out the other. The doctor was sitting painfully close, only two feet away. The tone of voice implied he was talking louder, not quite a yell but something nearly there; it sounded like a whisper to Jason. So quiet, with every third word unintelligible, except for that first phrase: "Mr Wayne, I'm afraid you're profoundly deaf." --- Jason is profoundly deaf. He learns to cope with it.

An AU in which Jason is deaf. This is one of my favorite Jason fics. I often find myself coming back to it. Its a great character study, introspective and has that delicious kind of hurt you just want to sit with for a while, with a helping dollop of comfort.

Children Will Listen by Parker Avenue

Jason Todd is good at extortion. He's what the adults call a snoop - nobody paid attention to the little kid with the big ears. Without even realizing, adults would hand him the keys to getting what he needed. Jason knew how to collect information, because adults found information valuable. And it was. It was free, easy to get, and easy to carry, so long as he kept his head clear and his facts straight. Jason had information Batman could use. He knew it. He had thought it over all day, sitting on that moldy couch, eating stale saltines. Batman would definitely be interested in the information Jason had. Batman had become scary again, like the old stories Jason used to hear the goons in the area tell. Breaking bones, just barely keeping people alive. Batman didn’t kill, no, but sometimes? Sometimes living was worse, maybe. Jason stayed crouched behind that dumpster, silent, because he simply couldn’t decide if Batman was far gone enough to make a kid wish he was dead. (Jason Todd knows how to get what he wants, and Batman tries to lure him to safety.)

Okay I will admit, my biggest weakness is fics about street kid Jason. Slow adoption got me good. Anyways, this one isn't finished but I love the way the pacing takes its time. Co-parents Bruce and Selina is never a con either!

Stargazer by LemonadeGarden

Jason Todd is seriously injured during patrol one night, and is forced to stay at the manor to recuperate until his injuries are healed. To pass the time, he makes a list of things he never got to do before he died. Except there's one small problem: most of them involve Bruce, and Jason doesn't really think Bruce cares all that much about him anymore. This is a story about how wrong he is, but I made it sad anyway.

I'm sure everyone and their mother has rec'd this fic, but I'm doing it anyways because I love it deeply. If you haven't read it, this is your sign!

Glow in the Dark Stars by essspressso (stylesmakethefight)

“I’m being serious, asshat,” Jason hisses, swatting his hands away from his face. “You have to tell me what year it is.” Nightwing crosses his arms a little petulantly. “It’s 2017. Happy?” Jason freezes, breath catching in his throat. 2017. Five years ago. He was…he was fifteen. “Shit,” he murmurs. He’s going to eviscerate Tim. Or: Red Hood Jason and 15-year-old Jason swap timelines, landing one week before 15-year-old Jason is supposed to die.

Time travel trope + Jason Todd's tragic ass life = amazing fics. Feelings, prepare to be felt! LOTS of Angst. You might even shed a tear. Wonderful fic!

Too Much Fucking Salt by Pez_The_Platypus

A rural housewife instinctively understood the law of quantity into quality. Add a pinch of salt to a soup and it tasted better; add one pinch too many and you ruined the batch. Jason had been in limbo for a year and a half, trusting things would get better even though everything just seemed to be getting worse. It was something small that set him off, but really, it was an accumulation of a lot of things that led to this. He was going to kill the Joker.

A one shot, but a LONG one. This one is very sad, heavy, and bittersweet. Its not Bruce or Dick "bashing", it provides a pretty well rounded and human description of them, which is to say they are not angels. Still, if you love pondering the tragedy of Jason Todd and themes of coping with trauma and the inherent grating sensation of trying to heal, this is a great fic for you.

YOU MUST KNOW LIFE TO KNOW DECAY by orpheusaki

Bruce starts, eyes glaring down at the city and unwilling to look anywhere else, especially in Jason's direction, "You always… hated the rain." Jason's breath gets caught in his throat. (For as long as Jason can remember, it's always been raining.)

Jason angst and character study rooted in comic-accuracy. Great short read!

This Kind of Weather by r_astra

Jason’s at school when his mom dies, and that’s the only reason any of it happens. If he’d been home, if he’d been with her, he would’ve been in the wind before anyone else even knew. Even if they looked, no one ever would’ve found him. He’d have taken to the sewers if that’s what it took, man-eating crocodile guy and all.

Yes, another Jason Todd adoption fic, one in which he does not steal the tires. I have a type and I'm limiting myself to only 2 of the many I love. This one does not have much of a focus at all on the Bat-side of things, just a story of Jason finding a home, much older than in the comics.

A Straight Blade by Sparkypants

"What happened to your face?" Bruce asks, reaching his hand for Jason's jaw. "You're bleeding." Jason bristles, cheeks turning pink. "I cut myself shaving." He says, and wipes at the cut with the cuff of his hoody. Damian makes a clicking noise with his tongue, "I'm amazed you haven't taken your own head off." He snarks. Jason shoves his chair away from the table, temper flaring. "Well it's not like anyone ever taught me, is it." He hisses. He's five years late, but Bruce finally teaches Jason how to shave.

Quick one-shot with feelings. Great little read I often find myself revisiting.

Growing Like a Breeze by WhaleofaTime

April 27th isn't anyone's favorite date, but it's somehow worse than usual today when Bruce gets his car stolen. It's nice of Red Hood to come to his rescue. Nicer even that Jason keeps him company afterwards.

One of those fics that explains everything about why Jason and Bruce's dynamic and relationship is so magnetic to read about. They both suck at feelings and yet make me feel SO MUCH.

[five-rivers]

Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 3

Short one! @greatbigolhampuckjustforme

.

She was doing it.  She was doing it.  She was convincing him.  She’d been dubious about the whole endeavor.  Dubious about its necessity, dubious about her ability to pull it off, dubious about basically becoming Danny’s parent, everything.

But, well, if it was what needed to be done, it was what she would do.  

She’d freaked out at first, of course.  Hearing about it.  Hearing about how many people wanted to take Danny, who’d take advantage of him like that.  Hearing about what she’d need to do to keep that from happening.  Maybe she and Danny joked about her raising him, but it really wasn’t true.  

But then it was happening, regardless of whether or not Danny or Jazz wanted it to happen.  And their parents were… Well, they hadn’t been disqualified, but Jazz knew they took a lot of getting used to.  She didn’t have high hopes that they would be Danny’s choice.  

Jazz, then, would offer another option.  Even if Danny picked randomly, two ‘safe’ choices were better than one.  He wouldn’t pick randomly, though.  He might be exasperating at times, but he was a decent judge of character.  She was sure he could sense her intentions, mentions of mad science labs aside.  

Considering those questions, her parents definitely wouldn’t be getting him again.  It was fine.  It was all for the best, really.

Really.  Things would be better.  After.  After all of this was done.  

She smiled at herself in the bathroom mirror.  No need to bother Danny with her brooding.  He’d been here for a week now, and things were going great.  

She walked out, stopped by her study, then swung by her study to pick up a few papers before going to the kitchen.  Danny was sitting at the table there, working on schoolwork.  It’d do no good if she got custody and everything turned out alright on the Danny custody front only for him to completely fail high school!  

Okay, that wasn’t entirely true.  

Still.  She didn’t want this to set back his education.  

“Okay, once you finish the English, I have the social studies.”

Danny looked up at her.  “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m always going to take your education seriously, Danny.  It’s important that you stay on track to graduate.”

“I still think that’s sort of redundant for a ghost.”

“Half ghost.”

“I still haven’t seen any evidence about that by the way.”

“Well you would if you transformed.”

“And I’d do that, if you actually describe how I’m supposed to do that.”

“Well, you sort of just did it.”  Danny had never given her a lot of details about what being half ghost felt like, or how it worked mechanically.  Even though she’d asked.  It was awfully inconvenient of him.  

Danny shook his head and looked back at his homework.  He tapped his pencil on the table a few times, then looked at the top page of the social studies work.  

“A presentation?” he asked.  

Jazz nodded.  “It can be in poster form if you’d like.”

Danny sucked in his lower lip and nodded.  “But this is it, right?  This is all you want me to do?”

“Well, that and the English essay you have under here.”

Danny pulled out that sheet of paper and grimaced.  “You– That’s really– No.  No.  Nope.  No.  This is way too much.  You can’t expect me to do all this, this much every day.”

“It’s a totally normal high school workload.  Seven classes–”

“Doesn’t that normally include PE?  And, like, a study hall?  Or something fun?  Maybe?”  He ran his hands through his hair, which had a really strange and fascinating effect on his ears.  

“You have astronomy and science, you like that.”

“But I still need to use my brain for it.  I’m talking about things I can turn my brain off for.  Or whatever it is that ghosts think with.  Whatever it is, it’s making my head hurt.  I can’t keep going at this pace.  I’ll lose it.”

“Don’t be so down on yourself.  You can do this.  And you do have a brain.”

“You sound very sure of that.”

She’d walked right into Danny’s mad science paranoia again.

“Humans have brains.  It’s common sense.”

Danny’s eyes flicked down Jazz’s carefully formulated English assignment once again, and he shook his head.  “No.  I can’t do this.  Not any longer.  It’s been a week.”  He dropped the paper.  “It’s been a week, and there are six other people to talk to, so, thanks for the cool bedroom and not dissecting me but–”

“Danny, wait–” said Jazz, seeing where this was going a split second before Danny raised his hand to the pocketwatch.  

She was too late. Danny clicked the button, and he was gone.  

“Well,” said Jazz.  She sat down at the kitchen table, feeling heavy.  “Crap.”

[moonslie04]

scaramouche x male! reader

Part 6: Fiery touch

masterlist previous next

TW: CONTAINS A SLUR BEING SAID TOWARDS THE MAIN CHARACTER, TRANSPHOBIA. YOUR MENTAL HAELTH IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE BOOK. PLEASE TAKE CARE.

Scaramouche rang the doorbell to (Y/N)’s house. After planning to work on his story together, (Y/N) had invited Scaramouche over to talk about the story as well as to just hang out. He rocked back and forth on his feet as he tried to smash the stampede that was in his stomach.

The door opened, revealing an older woman, hair as black as raven’s feathers. She looked at him and smiled kindly.

“Can I help you?” She asked, holding the door still closed. Scaramouche didn't blame her. He was a stranger, after all.

“Is (Y/N) home? I was supposed to meet him to study.” Scaramouche said, watching confusion swarm her face. Did he have the wrong house? He was sure he didn't.

“Oh! Do you mean (D/N)? Did she also try to tell you that she was a tranny? I told her not to be delusional anymore.” The woman says, shaking her head.

Scaramouche frowned. He knew (Y/N) was trans and that his parents were bad, but this bad? He hadn't expected this at all. His thoughts were interrupted when the pleasant voice, which had started to somehow reflect his inner thoughts, reached his ears.

“Mom, who is it?” (Y/N) asked, his tone clipped and short.

“Someone is here to help you study. Would do you some good anyway. You're always far behind in English.” (Y/N)’s mother replied, opening the door further, as if inviting Scaramouche in. (Y/N) sighed, nodding.

“I know, Mom. I'll try better. Scara, follow me.” Scaramouche nodded, taking his shoes off and following (Y/N) up the stairs.

“Better keep that door open (D/N)!” (Y/N)’s mom yelled from downstairs. (Y/N), on the other hand, didn't bother to reply.

Scaramouche was still in shock, hearing (Y/N)’s own mother deadname him like that, as well as calling him a slur. He shook his head to get out of his head when he heard the other boy sigh.

“I'm sorry you had to witness that. I’ll be sure not to make us meet up here from now on.” (Y/N) apologized.

‘Tell him it's okay. Tell him it's not his fault.’ Scaramouche’s inner thoughts said, looking at the other boy’s saddened and disappointed face.

But he couldn't. One of his major flaws was that he sucked at comforting others. He avoided it like it was the plague. He himself hadn't gotten much or none at times comfort from his mother, so he didn’t know what you had to do to comfort someone.

Although looking at the boy in front of him, all that scaramouche wanted was to pull him in his arms, form a bubble around him that could protect him from any evil that wanted to harm him. Wanted to protect him from his own parents.

And that's what he did. Hugging (Y/N) was probably the best physical contact Scaramouche has ever had. The two complimented each other, fitted around each other like pieces of a puzzle, finally being placed next to each other. (Y/N) wrapped his arms around his waist, his touch, hot on Scaramouche’s skin.

“You don't have to apologize. It's not your fault. I suck at comforting but always know it's not your fault at all. They’re the ones being ignorant and not accepting their son.” Scaramouche said, feeling (Y/N) shake his head, letting out a hollow laugh.

“I know. But every time they or someone uses my deadname, a part of me chips away. Especially since I'm not on T, nor can I use the one binder I have when I'm home. I’ve tried to tell them thousands of times, but it always ends up in the same way. It feels so bad, and it makes me cry at night. Makes me feel selfish that I am crying because, after all, they are my parents even if I don't want them to be.” (Y/N) ranted, releasing a shuddering breath.

Scaramouche’s arms tightened around the boy in his arms. Hearing (Y/N)’s voice sounded so broken, he couldn’t help but wonder how long he had been keeping it in.

He heard (Y/N) take a shuddering breath, presumably trying to steel himself before pulling away from Scaramouche. He turned away, his cheeks red from embarrassment.

‘Cute,’ Scaramouche thought, ‘Red looks good on him..’ He shook his head, trying to get the unholy thoughts out of his head. Not the time or place.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dump this on you, and it was rude of me to do that.” (Y/N) muttered, turning around and wrapping his arms around himself as if shielding himself from Scaramouche.

Scaramouche frowned, shaking his head. “Don’t. Don’t apologize for feeling things. Never do that,” He said firmly. “We can talk more about this if you want or we can go outside?”

(Y/N) turned around, his cheeks still red. “Can… Can we go out? I really don’t want to stay home. Its okay if you don’t want to. I don’t want to burden you more than I already have.”

“I swear to god, if you say sorry one more time, I will tell all of the university that you called me an omega.” Scaramouche huffed, taking out his bike’s keys.

(Y/N) barked out a laugh, grabbed his jacket, and opened his door, a mischievous smile on his lips. “I think that would be more harmful for you than me.”

A soft smile played on Scaramouche’s lips as he followed (Y/N) downstairs. Thankfully, the latter’s mom wasn’t around till the time both were out of the house.

“Holy fuck is this yours?” Scaramouche turned towards the sweet voice, a smirk on his lips. He nodded, causing (Y/N)’s jaw drop as he turned back towards the bike. One of the perks of having a rich mom and her even richer wife was that he could have the shit he wanted at the snap of his fingers. And that meant getting a bike out of guilt tripping his mom.

“You like it?” Scaramouche asked, even if he already knew the answer. The speed that (Y/N) nodded his head made Scaramouche concerned that it would fall off. Scaramouche laughed, giving his spare helmet to (Y/N), making the boy look at him in bewilderment. Scaramouche clicked his tongue, putting the helmet onto (Y/N)’s head.

‘He looks so cute. Gods.’ Scaramouche thought, unknown to the red that was creeping up to (Y/N)’s face.

Scaramouche got onto the bike, jerking his head to signal (Y/N) to get behind him. Squealing (Y/N) got on the back. He wrapped his hands on Scaramouche's waist, his touch feeling like fire spreading.

Scaramouche grinned, putting his own helmet on and started the bike.

taglist: @kaitfae

(If you wanna be added, please ask me or just comment underneath!)

A/N: I will have exams in the next week till like the 19th of March. therefore, I will not be able to write at all. Apologies but these exams are like very important, unfortunately.

[petalsnow]

Best Friend (18+)

bang chan x felix 

word count: 3.4k 

genre: smut, fluff - 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI 

warnings: non-idol au, friends to lovers, dom!chan, sub!felix, swearing, excessive alcohol consumption, both characters are under the influence, oral sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this), cumming inside (don’t do this), praise kink, degradation kink, confessions of love.. i think that covers it but if i missed something let me know! 

summary: no matter how hard felix tries, he just can’t shake his feelings for chan.. but he never expected him to feel the same way. 

this is a fictional story. nothing in this fan-fiction represents felix, bang chan, or stray kids as a whole, NOR does it represent their relationships between each other. read at your own risk. 

18+ content below the cut. 

———

felix knew for a while now. he was painfully aware of the feelings he had for his best friend. but that was the problem, and the root of all of this weird tension between them. he was supposed to be his best friend. felix grew up with chan. they were neighbors, classmates, and even part of the same dance group throughout high school. but as time passed, their hang outs grew scarce and their communication dwindled down significantly. after all, they’re both in college now. both busy with their studies and part time jobs. this is whenever felix started to realize his feelings for chan weren’t just the average “bromance” type. he found himself thinking about chan late at night, his chest tightening from the pain of missing him so much. he often would lay in bed and scroll through his camera roll, eyes grazing over pictures of the two of them throughout the years. he hated the feeling. it felt wrong, it felt pathetic. felix of course has no idea how chan feels about him, but he can only assume it’s not mutual. it would be strange if it was.. they’re practically brothers… (felix tries to convince himself). after many long and painful nights of missing his friend, felix decides it would be a good idea to text chan and ask him to hang out. it’s been a few months since the last time they saw each other, it doesn’t seem like a weird request. felix opens up their message thread and finds himself twiddling his thumbs, overthinking what he wants to send. after several back spaces and heavy sighs, he finally decides to press send: felix: hey! i have break from classes today if you want to come over and drink or something. he figures that sounds casual enough and nervously waits for his reply. which comes sooner than he expected, and the blonde headed boy’s head shoots up quickly at the chime of his phone channie: felix! hey!! of course, i’ll be over within the next hour if that sounds okay. i’ll bring some soju. felix finds himself unable to fight the smile that is now beaming across his face and quickly texts back, felix: sounds great bro, see you then. the casual “bro” was thrown in there of course, on purpose. ———

felix has been getting ready for the entirety of the hour that chan said it would take him to arrive at his apartment. changing his outfit five times, changing his hairstyle, and even applying a small amount of makeup just to brighten his eyes and cover a few of his unwanted blemishes.

he is staring at himself in his full length mirror, his final look consists of a comfortable white tee, a oversized light brown cardigan, and some comfy grey sweats. he didn’t want to dress up too much and give himself away.. but he did want to look appealing, and felix is convinced he did just that.

he’s tidying up his hair when he hears three knocks to his front door and his heart inevitably leaps in his chest, he gives himself a final look over and all but sprints to the source of the noise. he takes a deep breath before twisting the nob and revealing his (handsome) “best friend”.

“ahhh felix!” the older boy grins from ear to ear, pulling the smaller boy in for a warm embrace. “how have you been?? i feel like it’s been forever” he adds

“i’ve been good, same shit different day. you know how it is.” felix responds casually, trying not to reveal the enormous smile he now posses.

“ah yes, i get it dude.” he groans in agreement as he pulls away “want me to throw the soju in the fridge?” he questions as he brushes past felix and enters the apartment.

“yeah, that’s perfect” felix nods, shutting the door as his friend heads into the kitchen. felix awkwardly clears his throat, trying to keep himself as nonchalant as possible “how have you been?” he chimes as he follows behind him.

“tired, stressed, exhausted.. the usual” his friend chuckles, taking two bottles of soju out of the pack before placing the rest in the fridge. he smiles, handing one to his friend. “but that’s what these are for.” he smirks.

felix laughs and happily takes the bottle into his hand, twisting the metal cap off. “we both going to drink a bottle by ourselves?” he quirks an eye brow, taking his first sip before chan can reply.

“just like old times.” chan grins back at him, taking a gulp of the liquid down like a champ. “plus, if i don’t drink this whole thing, i don’t think i would be half as enjoyable to be around with how stressed i’ve been lately” he adds.

before felix has time to process what he’s saying he replies with, “you’re always enjoyable to me.” and his face quickly turns a light shade of pink at his abrupt honestly. “j-just because we always have such a good time together.. ya know?” he clears his throat, breaking the intense eye contact with his friend.

chan giggles and walks over to felix to ruffle his hair “of course i know what you mean, i don’t think you’d keep me around for this long if you didn’t enjoy my company.” he says playfully before squinting a little a felix with the newly established proximity. “are you wearing makeup?” he cocks his head

felix swears he could shit himself right there on the kitchen floor. his pink cheeks now turning a deep shade of red. “yeah.. just a little insecure with my acne lately..” he tries to play it off, shoving chan playfully (and so he won’t be so close to notice such details).

“ahh, i’m sorry for pointing it out then” he replies. “come on, let’s go chill in the living room, i’m tired of standing” chan smiles and walks comfortably through his friends apartment, like he owns the place. which, he may as well, he’s been here more times than he can count.

felix silently agrees and plops himself on the opposite side of the couch from chan.

they spend a while catching up, their soju bottles growing lighter and lighter as each minute passes. trips to the fridge are made to retrieve more, several times.

hours have passed now and the sun has fallen from the sky, the apartment lit up only by the glow of the TV screen. empty soju bottles are littered across felix’s floor and both boys are laughing and throwing their heads back over the couch.

“bro, no way you told a girl you loved her on the FIRST DATE?” felix asks in purse disbelief, the alcohol molding him into a bold and now (very) loud person

“and that is why i will never drink tequila on the first date ever again..” chan groans as he hides his face, unable to keep himself from laughing as felix cracks up at this embarrassing story.

their laughter dies down before felix adds to the conversation again, “i haven’t been on any dates in forever, i just don’t have the interest in any girls around here i guess” he shrugs, toying with one of the bottle caps in his hand.

“really? i figured you’d have a list of girls lined up waiting to beat down your door.” chan responds, taking the last sip of the last bottle of soju before resting it on the coffee table close to the couch.

felix chuckles at this and flicks the bottle cap in chan’s direction. “could say the same for you.”

chan catches the cap and flicks it back at felix with a small grin. “sort of, but none of them have kept my interest. more of a one night stand kind of guy lately.”

the bottle cap drops to the floor from chan’s poor aim and felix, now without any distraction, looks up to meet his friend’s gaze.

“i don’t know if could do one night stands.. i feel like i get attached too easily” felix sighs sweetly.

“you always were the hopeless romantic type” chan smiles softly, shifting his position on the couch to fully face felix. “it’s cute.”

felix gulps, sobering up a little at his comment. “t-thanks. it’s kind of embarrassing actually.. it gets lonely” he swallows hard.

chan frowns at his friends response “you can always call me, yeah? you don’t have to isolate yourself”

“no i just mean.. it gets lonely like, romantically. i constantly crave affection and physical touch but most people just want a one time thing and i just can’t see myself being okay with that.” felix explains, toying with a button on his cardigan.

“i know that’s what you meant.. my offer still stands.” chan replies, confidence never wavering in his tone.

felix can’t help but quickly look up, meeting his eyes in a small panic. he doesn’t know if he’s reading too much into it or if chan is trying to hint at what he thinks he’s trying to hint at.. he opens his mouth to reply but chan beats him to it.

“i like you felix.” chan adds, boldly. the alcohol has clearly taken over at this point.

felix blinks hard, at a loss for words. “w-what do you mean?” he asks

“i like you, more than just a friend.” chan clarifies for him. “i’ve felt this way for a while, but we’ve been best friends our entire life and it always just felt so wrong, so i’ve never mentioned it before or made a move.” he shrugs, “but i’m super drunk right now and i’m tired of keeping it in.. so here it is” he nods, looking away from felix and down at the couch in an attempt to make him less uncomfortable.

felix’s adams apple visibly bobs from how hard he gulps, he feels like he’s dreaming. because there is absolutely no way chan just confessed his love for him. after a few seconds of awkward silence, felix finally finds the courage to reply.

“i feel the same way..” he says, barely above a whisper. “… that’s why i wore makeup, and invited you over..” his words slurring “shit, i spent an entire hour getting ready for you…” he’s pouring out now.

chan’s heart aches in his chest at the boy’s innocent confession. “you did all of that for me?” he asks.

“yeah, all for you.” felix nods, still fidgeting with his cardigan. “i love you channie..” his voice cracking, his feelings that have been pent up for years, overflowing thanks to the soju.

“oh felix..” chan trails off, shifting his position to move closer to him, taking felix’s hands into his own to rub his thumb over them. “i’m so sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me sooner.” a sadness washing over his expression

felix sniffles, a small tear escaping one of his eyes. “it’s not your fault, i would’ve never expected you to feel the same anyways.” he whimpers

“i do.. i always have.” chan comforts him, removing his hand from felix’s grasp to wipe the tear off his cheek. “no crying, you’ll mess up your makeup.” he smiles softly, felix’s eyes finally meeting his own.

“kiss me, please..” felix quietly begs.

chan doesn’t need any further encouragement before pressing his lips into felix’s. it’s soft, loving, and warm. chan’s body pressing further into felix as the kiss deepens, felix’s hands finding their way to rest on either side of chan’s face.

the kiss quickly grows more aggressive and sloppy, the sexual tension growing thicker as chan grinds himself into the boy underneath him.

“fuck, we have to stop. i don’t know if i can control myself if we keep going.” chan pulls away from the kiss, catching his breath.

“what makes you think i want you to control yourself?” felix asks, searching chan’s eyes, his hands still resting on his friend’s cheeks.

chan all but melts into felix at his words. “you’re going to kill me.” he growls, dipping his head down to attack felix’s neck with open mouth kisses.

“nooo, you can’t die. you haven’t even fucked me yet.” felix giggles at chan’s desperation and because his kisses tickle there.

chan chuckles are his response and leans back to remove his own shirt, revealing his toned physique.

felix looks up at him in awe. “you’ve.. really been working out lately.” he trails off, mesmerized by the image on display before him.

“yeah, to attract cute little twinks like you.” chan winks before tossing the shirt across the room and leaning back down to reattach their lips.

felix whimpers at the new contact, his fingernails lightly scratching against chan’s back. “need you now.” he manages to get out between kisses.

“i thought you’d never ask” chan mutters before tugging off felix’s cardigan and tee shirt, quickly tossing them across the room as well. “you’re perfect” he moans, drinking in the boy’s small build.

felix blushes, crashing his lips back into the older boy instead of trying to think of a good response. both of the boys have grown rock hard, their bulges rubbing against another at their make out session continues.

“god, felix. i can’t take it anymore, i need you now.” chan moans. shifting to lay on his back. felix crawls i between his legs, slowly tugging at the waist band of chan’s sweatpants.

“can i?” felix asks politely, his innocent doe eyes staring into chan’s.

“fuck yes, of course.” chan’s nods quickly, leaning back into the couch as the boy removes his pants in a swift motion.

“no underwear?” felix cocks his head to the side, nestling himself between chan’s legs.

“never” chan chuckles, resting his head against the arm of the couch to watch felix’s performance.

felix hums softly and takes chan’s length into his small hand, giving it gentle strokes at a steady pace.

chan whimpers, closing his eyes at the pleasurable sight and feeling. “feels perfect ‘lix.”

felix smiles at the pet name as chan’s dick grows harder in his hand, before softly placing his mouth over his erection.

he has a hard time fitting it all at first, but as he gets more comfortable with the size, he begins moving his head faster and deeper.

“s-shit” chan swears, his hips slightly bucking upwards to meet felix’s warm and heavenly mouth. “you’re… so fucking good at this.” chan gasps, running his hand through the top of felix’s hair, slightly pushing his head further down onto his cock.

felix moans around his dick at the small gesture of dominance, which encourages him to go deeper.

chan feels like he’s going to explode, his moans grow louder and he feels a fire burning in his abdomen. he lets felix continue for a couple minutes before he just can’t take it anymore.

“get off, i’m going to fuck you now.” chan asserts, pulling felix off his cock, quickly removing the younger boys sweats in the process.

chan scoffs at felix’s lack of underwear too. “no underwear?” he parrots to the blonde.

“never.” felix retorts with a cheeky smile, chan placing a sweet kiss to his mouth before turning the small boy around and bending him over.

“shit, do you have condoms?” chan snaps out of his lustful spell, checking around the room

“i’m clean..” felix mutters beneath him

“you sure you’re okay with this..?” chan trails off, rubbing the small of felix’s back “i can go get condoms if you want me to.” he reassures him

“no, i’m sure channie.” felix whimpers “please, just fuck me already.” he begs

and just like that, chan’s lustful spell has taken him over again. chan bends down to lick a bold stripe over felix’s tight hole, eating him out quickly but effectively to get him prepped for what’s to come.

felix mewls at the sudden contact and pushes his hips into chan’s touch, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“as delicious as you taste, i can’t wait anymore, need to feel you ‘lix” chan moans, rising back up to line his cock up with felix’s wet and swollen hole before slowly pushing into him.

“oh fuck… holy shit” chan growls, pushing in and out of the younger boy slowly, setting a soft pace at first. “you’re so fucking tight.”

felix is a whimpering mess beneath the muscular boy, toys curling and back arching. “y-you’re my first.” felix confesses in a high pitch.

“damn right, and i’ll be your last.” chan grunts, slowly increasing his place, caressing felix’s back as he adjusts to his size.

the more comfortable felix gets, the more his ass starts meeting chan half way between each stroke. the room is filled with both of their moans, and the sound of felix’s ass against chan’s dick.

“channie, you’re so big, i fucking love your dick.” felix moans out, gripping the couch cushion beneath him.

“yeah? you’re gonna lose your mind on my cock baby?” chan encourages him, smirking as he slams his cock into his sub. “gonna make you forget how to speak, turn you into such a good cock slut just for me to use.” a hard slap landing on felix’s ass.

felix let’s out a small scream, his eyes welling up in tears at the over stimulation and effect that chan’s words have on him. “p-please, just want to be yours.” felix whines.

“you’re already mine, no need to beg baby boy.” chan grunts, leaning down to press kisses to the back of felix’s neck, wrapping an arm around the small boy to support his collapsing body.

felix melts into his touch, eyes closed and mouth open wide as he lets out the most beautiful sounds chan has ever heard.

“channie.. g-gonna cum.” felix barely manages to get out, gasping for air.

“that’s my good boy, cum for daddy baby. i know you can. show me.” chan encourages in felix’s ear, increasing his pace as felix slowly reaches his climax.

with a loud moan and a tightening grip on one of chan’s thighs, felix let’s go. his cum drenching the couch beneath their bodies, his chest heaving as his high passes over him.

chan peppers kisses all across felix’s neck and down his back as the boy comes down from his high, his pace slowed down significantly.

felix collapses underneath him, trying to catch his breath. chan chuckles softly and maneuvers felix to lay on his back now, their eyes meeting again.

“hey” chan smiles down at him, felix wrapping his legs around chan. “you gonna come back to me?” he asks, felix’s gaze still miles from him, lost in pure bliss.

felix flutters his eyes and draws in a deep breath before nodding at chan’s question. a soft smile creeping across his freckled cheeks.

“you gonna be okay if we go a little longer?” chan questions, placing soft kisses to his cheeks. “i’m almost there.” he reassures him.

“yeah, want you to finish too.” felix sighs sweetly, leaning into chan’s touch.

“okay baby, let me know if it’s too much.” chan adds, and felix nods before chan realigns himself with felix before sliding back into him.

“perfect..” chan whispers “perfect for me.”

his pace is more steady now, deep and slow stroke into felix. he won’t last long now.

“love you channie, love you so much.” felix whines, back arching off of the couch

“god damn it, i love you more felix.” chan groans loudly, his pace growing sloppier at the younger boy’s confession.

chan lands a few more strokes before he meets his climax

“god, i’m cumming baby.” chan throws his head back as felix tightens around him.

“inside, please channie.” felix begs him, spreading his legs further

that’s all it takes to send chan over the edge, emptying himself into felix’s tight hole with a loud moan.

his jerks his hips into felix a couple more times, making sure he gets every drop into him before slowly pulling out and falling onto his back into the couch.

both of the boys catching their breath before either of them break the silence.

felix is the first to slowly sit up, peering over at chan who is still trying to process what happened. felix crawls over chan’s body, arms on either side of him, caging him in.

“you still just a one night stand type of guy?” felix playfully cocks his head to the side.

“shut up and kiss me.” chan rolls his eyes before felix giggles and presses a kiss to his lips.

“i’ve waited for this my whole life” chan whispers, meeting felix’s eyes

“you have no idea..” felix whispers back, eyes glazing over with tears.

———

the end :) i hope you enjoyed <3 

[yooils]

2:57 . kurona ranze x gn! reader. fluff drabble. slight character study

"you never call me by my name."

KURONA looks up from his place on your floor and catches your gaze, eyebrows raised as if he can't believe the implications behind your words. (you’re unbelievably pretty, he thinks; even with your hands tangled in his vermillion hair and exhausted eyes from watching five movies in a row.

sure, he thinks of you as much more than a best friend, but isn’t that relatively normal for a friendship that’s lasted through hell and back..?

really, kurona knows he can dodge the question with ease, especially when you’re both half delirious on energy drinks and cup noodles– an unfitting diet for an athlete such as himself– but for once in his life, he feels compelled to speak.

your fingers are still running through his hair as the ticking of time seems to slow before him.

for vaguely a third of his life, you’ve been a parasite by his side– one that's clung to him (or maybe it was the other way round) ever since he was six, face painted with an obvious dislike for interacting with people. it's never occurred to him that there would be a day where he would lose you– you were always naturally in the picture, in both his past and his future.

but now, he’s slowly losing you to the flow of time– or rather– of life.

(he knows that you can tell he’s nervous; fingers occasionally drumming against his thighs, swallowing the lump in his throat, and flickering eyes that never seem to land anywhere. heavens, even he’s able to discern the feeling he’s been experiencing as nervousness, and self-awareness is never a good sign.)

“…when i say their names, i always imagine what they think of me.”

and it sucks, because i’m head over heels for you.

”–and i don’t wanna think about how you see me, because you’re the only person i… like.”

–i’m half in love with you, but in the way that i want to marry you and live out our little fairy tale forever in a small town cottage even though i’m quite literally about to go to a football camp. so maybe it’s not half, maybe you’ve taken my entire heart and engraved your name all over it.

on the off chance that you actually recognise kurona's poorly-communicated feelings, he thinks, he’ll take anything.

even a rejection.

the cheshire smile on your face makes his heart skip a beat. he has no idea how his heart is still beating to this day. (that’s the grin he knows as the scary smile, he discerns; the grin you do when you know something people don’t.)

“say, 'rona, do you have a crush on me?”

your bluntness doesn’t come as a surprise to him. it’s one of your endearing traits, really.

the feeble ‘mm’ sound he makes is deliberately noncommittal as he averts his eyes away from you– although the rapid rush colour blossoming on his ears speak volumes more to you than he ever could.

if only you could also hear how fast his heart was beating.

you cup his cheeks delicately, unable to contain the smile that sprung into your lips when you finally realised what this actually meant. (that your childhood best friend– that you've been in love with since that one time he patched your wound up, mumbling worried words under his breath when you were twelve– actually likes you back. you're a bit skeptical, yes, but it's kurona ranze, and he would never hurt other people you intentionally.)

kurona scrunches his eyes close to avoid eye contact with you. you're giggling at how comical he looks, before all noise dies down again and you muster up the courage to bring yourself to speak again. "so if you knew how i felt about you too, would you be comfortable with saying my name..?"

"s'ppose, i suppose."

your eyes hurt from how much your smile has been crinkling them. or maybe seeing kurona lying on your lap is too much. he's a sight for sore eyes, really, but whenever he makes eye contact with you, you feel as if your heart's been pierced by cupid's arrow again and again; forcing you to accept your feelings rather than swallow them forever.

"kurona, i like you more than anyone in this world. even when you have a bad haircut. or leave me behind to go to a training camp to become a pro footballer. or when you try to–"

"stop, 's more than enough, enough." he intervenes, his hands covering his flushed face and burrowing either further into his blankets.

you look expectantly at him. he caves in.

"(name)..?" he squeaks out, voice cracking as he feels the unfamiliar texture of your pretty name in his mouth. (which is strange, because he's pretty sure he always wakes up with your name on his mouth.)

he's less self conscious than he had expected himself to be.

"ranze. 'rona. kurona ranze."

the way his name slips of your tongue is still his favourite, he thinks, blushing profusely at the sudden mantra of the names you've called him over the years.

ranze was a new one. he likes the sound of his first name on your tongue.

(if only he knew that years later, you would be the one to take his last name too.)

the next morning, he wakes up with you curled up next to him on the couch– abnormally peaceful. he prefers you when you're talking. and when he mouths your name under his breath, all he feels is a weird tingly sensation in his chest, akin to the feeling he gets when his favourite band's new song is out, or when something is unexpectedly pleasant to him.

because kurona, at 15, realises that his favourite word is your name.

7.18.23

[marksbear]

can i request like literally any character/ set of characters x a male reader who based off of looks/his style, doesn't look like he'd have a southern accent or something like that, but does

idk if you know much about monster high, but yk kieran valentine? basically like him 💀 (bro is a handsome vampire with a southern accent like??? 💀💀) (also if you don't know what i'm talking about, here's a reference https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRsuuprH/ )

(also also, if u wanna narrow down what character(s) to write this for, i suppose anyone from cod, overwatch, or the boys)

Please I had the biggest crush on him. And because I'm cool like that I wrote one character for each fandom listed.

Tittle was gonna be long as hell, so heres a short version. Its gonna be Homelander, Simon (ghost) Riley, and Sigma.

HOMELANDER X SOUTHERN MALE READER

-Homelander is a judging person. He likes to criticize and study people. So when it came to you he didn't suspect you had an accent.

-In Homelander's defense you didn't dress like you were from the country. Or really like the southern stereotype.

-But once you spoke with your accent it caught him WAY off guard.

-Most definitely stared at you funny. I mean it's not everyday when he hears an accent like that.

-If you have a thick southern accent he'll always listen to your voice no matter how busy the room is or quiet. Your voice interests him so much to the point he wants to be near it.

-When (if) you both start dating he wants to be near you all times to hear you talk. Even when you read a stupid children's book he'll want to hear you read it.

-he hears your voice when hes injured or something It's like medicine to him. "Jesus darlin. You all bloody'ed up." Y/n says looking at Homelander's suit. "Only some were mine, but there's nothing to worry about."

-If you tease him or flirt with him he's already weak in the knees.

-Simon had a feeling you were different from the rest of them, but you were hiding it well.

-You were like a chameleon. You acted and dressed like you were from one place The next minute you dress like you're from another one.

-But once Ghost heard your accent his jaw would have been on the floor if he wasn't wearing a mask. At first he thought it was one of your little fakes, but once he heard it more and more he realized it was natural.

-Everyone he'd met so far in war had their share of accents, but yours stood out to him. He hasn't heard an accent like that in a good minute.

-With your accent he can hear it over the gun shots or shouting. It just keeps standing out for him. He listens to your words when he isn't even realizing that hes listening until you're done talking.

-He heard Soap call you "cowboy" And the nickname stuck with him. "Cowboy..." Simon mumbles under his breath looking at you. "What is it darlin?" Y/n says looking at Simon.

-He glares at someone whenever they make fun of your accent or they look at you funny.

-Don't even start trying to tease him about him having a thing for your accent. He would be so red under his mask and embarrassed.

-The way you dress and act doesn't give him the slightest thought that you have a southern accent.

-Sigma isn't the social man, so don't expect him to be all over you because you're new or something. But if you are different from the other people in your class he would watch and study you from afar. But honestly to catch his eye you at least gotta do something he doesn't see everyday.

-Once you two start hanging out more. And once he hears your accent it would music to his ears.

-Sometimes if you're shorter than him he would use his powers to lift you up in the air so he can hear you talk. Your accent enhances/ hypnotizes him.

-He doesn't find it as annoying as Cassidy's (Mcree) but hey gotta start somewhere.

-Sure he may be crazy for your accent, but it would be the healthy lie amount of it.

-Asks if you can sing to him. If you don't know how he'll teach you. Gives you a whole lesson about singing and music and how you can use your voice to make music to make it even better.

-He loves everything about your accent. He would study where you were born and the place history to understand your background more.

The end!

[koorminii]

WHAT LIES IN THE DARK — bang chan (m)

What was supposed to be a chill night alone turns into a fight for your life; Chan has been watching you, waiting for the best moment to strike, and he’s finally found the right time — but why are you so utterly enticing?

pairing: bang chan x f!reader

genre: enemies to lovers (?)

word count: 3.5k

warnings: CHAN IS A SERIAL KILLER, NO EXPLICIT MURDER SCENES, predator and prey dynamics, mentions of murder/violence, breeding, mating press, degrading, mentions of stalking, morally grey character, dumbification, size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, pussy eating, oh and they have sex outside… on the ground. lmk if i’m missing anything !!!

authors note: I helped my friend sisi write this for her tumblr account, and she was nice enough to let me post my own partially edited version for chan!! so if you like jujutsu kaisen and wanna read this twice then go follow her at @kugokizs !! also holy shit i haven’t posted in almost two months 😭 the amount that i missed you all and missed writing is insane and the never-ending support even throughout my absence and inactivity means so much, i genuinely could never imagine anyone, let alone all of you, could like my writing as much as it seems you do, so thank you! i hope everyone is doing well 🫶

Bang Chan is a very sinister man.

He holds grudges, is very keen on practicing “eye for an eye”, and he holds dear his power over weak, vulnerable, young women. He prowls for the pleasure of it, for the thrill — to hear them beg for mercy, for one more chance. They beg on their knees as if he’s a God, the bringer of all evil, the grim reaper, the devil himself. And, Chan thinks, maybe he is. After all, who else could invoke such fear in people. Who else could cause someone to shiver just at the mention of his name? To run for the hills at any sign of danger. Who else could do what he does? No one, and that’s what makes him enjoy it even more.

Bang Chan is a very sinister man, and right now he has his eyes on you. It’s been months, bumping into you at the grocery store, handing you things that you’ve dropped accidentally, holding the door open for you, dropping food on your doorstep — he’s seen it all. Late nights with friends, early morning at university, skipping lunch to study in the library… Chan has been there. Watching, waiting, prowling. Ever since the first time he saw you he’s wanted you, to add you to his ever growing collection, to keep you, to make you his. You’re his. And the only one between you both who didn’t know that yet, was you.

He has a foot buried in your grass, a cap hanging low on his head and a knife tucked inside his jacket. He makes sure to move with precision, watching out for the automated sprinklers and for any animals that might come looking. After all this time he knows the routine well. He knows when you’re staying home all night, what time you usually shower, when you eat, everything. He knows you’re a naturally anxious person, jumping at any sudden movements or noises, and he also knows you’re careless. Blasting music on flimsy headphones, falling asleep to the sound in your ear, oblivious to the world around you. Oblivious to the devil creeping on your doorstep.

He crouches down low, your blinds open just enough that he can see you plopped down on your couch with a bowl of ice cream in hand and a silly movie playing on the TV. Your legs are curled up, oversized pajama pants falling over the soles of your feet, and your attention solely on what’s playing in front of you. Chan’s been inside your house before. On the rare days where he wasn’t following you around he made his way through the place, memorizing the layout, seeing which rooms were the most lived-in, taking his time to appreciate your bedroom and all it had to offer.

Drawers upon drawers of lingerie greeted him when he peaked inside — he didn’t think you had it in you. His fingerprints would’ve been all over the place if not for gloves, his face on every camera if he hadn’t known all the blindspots, and thank God you didn’t have cameras inside, because then it’d only make it harder for him, and if you wanted something a little less painful when your time was up, it was best you didn’t piss him off.

Though Chan thinks he might play with you a bit. You’re interesting, just anxious enough to get by yet careless and reckless enough to get caught in a stupid situation. You’re pretty — innocent in the sexiest way possible. You look like you’d go dumb for a taste of his cock and that’s exactly what he likes most about you, but he knows you’ve got a good head on your shoulders and he appreciates that, too.

The moon shines a ghastly glow over his features right as the end credits of the movie start to run, and that’s when he decides it’s time to play. He picks up a smooth, round, pebble — no bigger than a quarter, and throws it so that it hits the window pane. He crouches down just the smallest bit lower, eyes peeking over the blinds, and he trusts the darkness to obscure him. He knows that you won’t ever get close enough to actually look through them, and he’s right. Always so easily frightened, like a little lamb. You freeze where you’re sitting, head whipping around to look at where the sound came from, and you pause for only a few moments, watching and waiting to see if it comes again. At least a minute passes before you turn back to the TV, curling in on yourself and tucking your lip between your teeth.

Chan can barely stifle the chuckle that threatens to leave his lips, it feels like childish glee watching you get so scared from a measly little rock against your window, but he does it again, throwing it harder now, and the sound echoes so loudly that he can hear it bounce back from inside your living room. This time you stand up, looking back towards the window and stepping forward, head tilting downwards as you try to see through the blinds. You squint at the glare from your lights and otherwise stay silent. Chan is sure your heart is beating erratically, your hands starting to shake, and he thanks God that you have so many windows. You don’t sit back down, instead looking around the room and muting the TV. You stay like that for a long time, you’ve always been so overly paranoid, and it fills Chan with immense satisfaction to know that he’s the one doing this to you.

He walks away from the window, allowing you to rotate methodically on uneasy feet and a rapidly beating heart, creeping around to the back door and picking the locks. He’s already deactivated the back camera and dropped a cat by your front porch so it didn’t seem too suspicious that you weren’t getting alerts. He knows that’s it’s rare anything ever triggers the back camera, and you feel too secure with the gate locking it from the outside. He’s easily bypassed those barriers, and now he simply opens the door. He knows you have sensors to tell you when the door has been open and shut, and he didn’t bother shutting those off. He wants to see how scared you can really get.

He shuts the door and slips into the closet, covering his lone figure with various jackets and scarves that hang from the hooks. There’s boxes and bottles of cleaning supplies piled at the bottom, and they block his legs from view. He’s still, silent, and patient. He hears your footsteps rushing towards the door, your heavy breathing, your frantic whispers of “Oh God,” and his eyes all but roll back in undeniable pleasure. He’s going to ruin you.

Your footsteps get nearer before they stop, you’re most likely looking through the window of the now closed back door, hands trembling and knees weak in fear. You’re probably on the verge of tears, barely holding in a whimper. He doesn’t hear you step away, but he can see your shadow from under the door. Hmm. You’re trying to be cautious now, are you? Chan already knows this routine. You’ll run to grab your phone, call someone, try to get in your car and drive away. Maybe grab a large kitchen knife just in case, but what are the chances of you actually using it? Chan has practice, he’s skilled, he’s used to this. You, a lone studious girl who’s paranoid but way too careless for her own good, has never stabbed anyone in her life. Has never even imagined it, so what’s the chances of you dropping the knife before it can even plunge into him? Maybe trying to get away with a scratch in the arm or a stab to the leg, but Chan has enough scars for that to not even matter. He’ll keep coming and there’ll be nowhere for you to hide.

But he’s gonna let you try, let you think there’s a chance for you to run for the hills, that maybe you’ll get to some help in time. He’ll let that relieved smile flit itself upon your face before he comes back to rip that hope from your body, just to do it all over again until the fight leaves you completely. Maybe he’ll let you reach someone in time, someone innocent, and then kill them right in front of you. Make sure you realize that this is your fault, you did this, you put this innocent person in danger. You murderer. You killed them. You.

Chan realizes he has a lot to think about.

Your chest pounds with the rapid beating of your heart. Your legs barely hold your weight and threaten to crumble with every movement, shaking every time you stop and wobbling uncontrollably when you run. You grab a knife from the kitchen counter and run back to the living room and grab your phone. It all started with the random sounds coming from the window. They came out of nowhere, pounding harder and harder until they stopped completely. You had thought you saw someone moving behind the blinds but chalked it up to paranoia. It’s been raining a lot more recently, so maybe it was just the rain pouring down onto the windows.

You tried to go back to your movie after that, you had clutched your phone tightly despite reassuring yourself multiple times that it was nothing. There was nothing there. You were almost able to relax. Almost, before your security system alerted you of the back door opening. At that moment it felt like your heart had lurched out of your chest, as if the shock and fear had paralyzed and crippled you completely. The silence was suddenly too thick — too loud, and it was all you could do to attempt to heave yourself up and off the couch to investigate. You already knew you should never venture deeper, never look for the source of the sound, but you needed to see.

When you got to the back door it was already shut. You’d ventured on tippy toes to look through the small window and there was nothing there. Yet you couldn’t stop the way your breath left you in heavy gasps, the acrid smell of fear and anxiousness seeping from you in waves. You didn’t forget the closet right in front of the door, but you knew you’d never be able to open the door without shaky limbs. If there was someone in there, you’d let them leave of their own accord. You , however, were leaving immediately. You slowly stepped away, looking up to the ceiling and clutching your lip tightly between your teeth. Sweat formed at the top of your mouth and you felt like you were going to throw up. Your throat ached, your stomach was in knots, and you felt like you could collapse at any second.

You crossed the living room with amble speed, grabbing a jacket from the hook by your front door and running outside. Rain dropped down in an angered flurry, beating the pavement with troubled fists, and your shoes were soaked with water before you could fully cross your front lawn. You scrambled to get the car door open, throwing yourself inside ungracefully. The first thing you did was look in the backseat before locking the doors and wasted no time taking off out your driveway and into the streets. You wanted to play music, blast it even, it was what calmed you always and without it you were leaving yourself vulnerable to the fear you’d been trying to ignore. You’d be able to get away — far, far, away — and sometime in the future you’d forget this night ever happened. You’d contact the authorities, move somewhere tropical maybe, and pray they never came looking.

The fear was slowly starting to easen, there were no cars following you, no weird men in the road, nothing but the stars and the moon and the lone sound of rain. You were slowly starting to relax, allowing yourself to take a few deep breaths, before a hazard sign started blaring on your dashboard.

Flat tire.

Flat tire !??

You kept driving, desperate for a few more miles between you and home, but your car didn’t appreciate that, and you came to a stop. A fear-mongering, bone-chilling, stop.

You couldn’t afford to waste time. You had to keep moving. You jumped out the car, a tight grip on your knife in one hand and your phone in the other. Your feet splashed in large puddles, the streets lined with thick trees that had never looked so imposing until now. A quick look around told you that you were alone, but you couldn’t be sure. You kept moving, rushing but not moving too fast where the sounds of your splashing would drown any other noises out. Your hand curled tightly on the knife as if it was a lifeline, and your phone was inside your pocket — kept safe from the rain. Streetlights shined down from above, blinding white lights that illuminated the entire area before you, and you were grateful for it but loathed it all at the same time. Bright lights mean you could see everything around you, but it also meant anything around could see you too.

Your breath was shaky, every exhale felt like it would be your last, but you didn’t stop moving. The brushing of trees or a snap of a branch would make you jump and squeal in fear just to see it was a product of the wind or your own feet pressing against wood. Ahead you could see the shadows of houses, loud and imposing in structure, and your legs carried you faster with a new found determination. Your vision was blurry with tears of relief and raindrops that sat on your eyelashes, just to be blocked by something — something warm and soft, something sturdy, something breathing.

You couldn’t help the shrill scream that left your lips, but it was drowned out by the storm anyway. You stomped hard on his boot and sliced, not sure if you hurt him but giving yourself a chance to run away. Your legs pumped with adrenaline, your eyes wide in fright. Your grip on the knife only got even tighter, your nails embedding themselves lightly in your palm, but you had to keep going. Any noises became muffled as you ran, the sounds of trees rustling in the wind, rain slapping against the pavement, your feet slamming against the ground. His own feet moving leisurely behind you. It all became nothing but background noise to the pounding of your heart.

You screamed at the top of your lungs but it was to no use. Every clap of thunder, every downpour against shut windows, every burst of lightning fought for the right to be heard and you were losing. Your legs never stopped moving, you never stopped screaming, but you were reaching a dead end. There was nowhere to go. If you stopped to knock on someone’s door there was no guarantee they’d come open it, and it would allow him to catch up to you way too quickly. You couldn’t hide in any abandoned homes or under any structures because he’d surely see you, and that’d only trap you. Briefly, you contemplated running into the forest, but it was so dark. You didn’t know where you were going, you’d probably get lost and lead yourself right into his arms.

“There you are, little lamb.”

The whimper that leaves your lips has Chan grinning in delight. He surges forward, trapping you between strong arms and a broad chest, pressing against you tightly and dragging you backwards. You claw at his arms, kick your feet, and use the knife to slash at any part of his body that you could. You didn’t make it easy, and you could hear him growl in frustration. He tipped the knife out of your hands and then gripped your arm with a frightening intensity, you bit your lip to stop the cry of pain from leaving your mouth.

“Stop fighting.”

Ugh, get off me!” You cried, and you bit at the skin of his arm, hard, and he pushed you off, allowing you to fall flat on your back. You groaned, rolling over on your side before a dark shadow loomed over you. You winced, your eyes shutting in fear before strong fingers gripped your chin.

“Not so fiesty anymore? We were having lots of fun,” He cooed, a devilish grin forming on his — and you hate to say it — near perfect features. The only blemish on his face was the long scar over his eye, and even that made him look attractive. You lost your breath for a short moment, staring into unforgiving eyes and at pearly white teeth, before you came back to your senses and jerked your knee upwards into a firm abdomen. When the man didn’t even bother to pretend to be hurt you did it again, but this time you used your arms to push him backwards as well. He stumbled just a little, but it was enough for you to jump to your feet and start running back in the direction you came.

“You’ll stop if you know what’s good for you,” The man grumbled, but you didn’t stop moving. You wouldn’t. You didn’t bother screaming for help this time and ran straight through unforgiving trees and underbrush. You weren’t worried about getting lost anymore and could only focus on losing him and getting away.

Except he must’ve known, because gone was the leisurely pace he’d originally held. He ran through the trees with crippling speed, and it was all you could do not to yelp in fear and keep moving. But it didn’t seem like any speed you took was fast enough, for he kept getting closer and closer. It was just your luck that you’d trip over the roots of a large tree, falling flat on your face. You attempted to scramble backwards before he could reach you, but your limbs were growing tired, your brain was ready to shut off, and not even the adrenaline could keep the paralyzing fear from your veins. you whimpered as a large hand grabbed at your ankle, dragging you through the mud and leaves.

“Come on, little lamb, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

All you could do is bite your lip to stop the whimpers and cries from flooding out. You squeezed your eyes shut, stiffening when soft lips brushed against your skin. “We can have fun, can’t we?” He murmured, and your breath left you in a shudder. Calloused hands rubbed against the skin exposed by the lift of your shirt, and small puffs of breath knocked against the shell of your ear. “Do you wanna have fun?”

Your heart kicks up a notch when he slides a warm hand up your shirt. You can feel the way his fingers ghost over your skin with an unnatural intensity, as if his touch is amplified tenfold.

“Look at me,” He growls, your eyes opening at his command against your better judgement. His pupils are dilated, staring down at you with desire. The way he looks at you is an awakening, and with a foreign feeling surging through you, you bury your fingers into the collar of his shirt, bringing him down for a kiss. It’s a little awkward with your apprehension, your fear, your desire to just give up — all teeth and clumsy movements until he takes the lead. He licks into your mouth, coaxing feelings out of you you've never felt before— kissing you into submission.

"I wonder why you're so pretty, hm? Been torturing me for months, sweet thing," He hums, pressing your thighs apart, tongue pushing against yours, his lips cherry red. You want to kiss him again.

Your breath hitches when his hands move to your pants, slipping under the hem and unbuttoning the fabric. When he pulls your pants down slowly, so slowly it feels like time stands still, all that’s on your mind is him. His breathing, his touch, the cold feeling of his fingers. When your pink, lacy panties come into view the chuckle Chan lets out is so deep it feels like a heavy blanket over your mind, soothing you yet igniting something in you that you didn’t know existed. God, you’re in the demon's bed but you feel like you’ve gotten a taste of heaven, and when those soft, cherry red lips ghost over your skin, trailing over your pelvis, leaving light kisses along your skin, all you can do is jerk in his hold.

"Pretty little lambs deserve to know what it feels like to have me right here,” Chan starts, leaning down to press a trail of kisses to your inner thigh. He bites and marks along the fleshiest parts, chuckling at your quiet whimpers and yelps. He slides a hand up between your thighs and rubs between your folds, still covered by your lacy panties. “Aren’t you scared?” Chan murmurs, before splitting them to rub your clit through the fabric. You feel like falling as he circles between your thighs, a gasp hiccupping at the base of your throat before it gets stuck— you can’t make a sound.

You faintly hear the rustle of clothing and the absence of Chan’s touch, opening your eyes to see him pulling his shirt off, biceps flexing as he does. He’s so big, and fuck, his whole body could cover your own if he really wanted. He towers over you, caging you in and surrounding you from all sides. When his shirt is off and thrown somewhere to the floor, he looms over you, his hands pressing into the ground at either side of your head, and all you can do is gasp— your eyes widening at his proximity.

You allow him to pull your underwear down until they’re hanging off your ankle, your arousal sticks to the fabric, but with a flick of his wrist they’re gone. They’re gone. Oh god. You’re really doing this. You take a deep breath, and when a warm hand comes to press against your cheek you yelp. It’s okay. You’re okay. Right?

Soft lips press against your skin, tainting the unmarked flesh with bites and bruises. He paints your neck purple and blue, fingers ghosting between your thighs, tracing and playing with the obvious wetness coating your arousal. His mouth travels upwards, pressing against your own as he claims your lips in a devouring kiss. Everything is on fire, hot and burning as lust begins to entirely consume you.

A small moan slips past your lips as he dips a finger into your slick, warm cunt, and you clench around the digit almost immediately as instinct. The cool air and your nerves make your thighs tremble, but it doesn’t seem to affect him— not at all— if the way he keeps eye contact with you while he fingers you slowly is any indicator. Painfully slow. You don’t know if this is to pleasure you or torture you, and you can’t help the way your thighs tense under his ministrations.

Look at you. His eyes roam over the look on your face, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, bright eyes glazed over and hooded in a bliss that’s otherwise foreign to you, a particular ease directed towards him. Then he shamelessly lets his eyes drop down to your thighs that tremble even harsher under his gaze. The action only forces his mind to run wild. He can’t help but wonder how you do it. God, you don’t know what real pleasure is— and it’s Chan’s job to teach you. Fuck, did he want to be under you, gazing up at you through half lidded eyes, hungrily eating up the sight of you bouncing on his cock like the slut you could be.

He dips his head down, and your hands automatically perch themselves on his shoulders. He grins, moving the finger thrusting into your cunt harsher, faster.

“Oh, god,” You moaned, loud, your grip on his bare shoulders tightening ever so slightly. His skin was warm under your fingers— soft and smooth and fuck if it didn’t feel good.

He groaned, cock stiffening more than it already had. At this rate he was probably going to cum in his pants untouched, but he held himself back. He moved his mouth from yours to slip lower, down lower and lower still until he came face to face with your arousal.

“Fuck. You’re driving me crazy.”

You tried to quiet your moans by clamping a hand over your mouth, but sitting up and watching the way he sucked and licked at your arousal made your head spin. He made the action so nasty. So filthy. He was wild yet careful. But what did you know? All you knew was that it was driving you insane and you didn’t know anything could feel this good.

One hand supports his weight on the ground by your head while the other is preoccupied, curled around his cock as he stares down at you— something akin to a beast in his gaze. Tip reddened and precum oozing from the slit while he groans. The tingly feeling in your groin was coming back, similar to the fluttering you always felt whenever a boy you liked would come bother you. It intensifies when Chan wraps your legs around his waist and pulls you closer to him, your body dragging grass from under you.

He rubs the tip of his cock against your pussy, teasing actions feeling more like torture before he finally sinks in. Slowly, deliberately, but you still tense. It’s scary, having something stick itself inside of you. Having him stick himself inside you.

“Relax,” Chan murmurs, pressing his mouth to your cheek. “You’re having fun, right?”

Dark eyes are locked intensely on your cunt, Chan watching the slide of his cock as he thrusts inside. His hair is plastered along his forehead, and he sinks back into your inviting walls with another roll of his hips.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.”

You moan, high and light, your eyes fluttering closed in bliss while Chan’s chest expands with a satisfied breath. He rolls his hips into yours— sinking his cock into your cunt saying the filthiest words you’ve ever known, before his words break off into a moan, his tone lower and deeper.

“Oh, please don’t stop— be nice to me,” You babble, your hands grabbing at whatever you can— his shoulders, his back, his hair; and that’s all it takes before he suddenly takes up a pace that’s a little faster, rougher as your pussy squelches, wet and messy while your arousal smears along your thighs and the ground below you.

Your body jolts with each thrust, pussy clenching around him as Chan moans—every twitch and squeeze of your heat leaving him breathless. “Come on, little lamb,” He groans, and you don’t know what to do. You’re too lost in the haze of pleasure that’s taken over you— you can’t hear past the slap of your skin and his groans in your ear. You know you’re moaning, but you can barely hear yourself. It’s all him. Him all over you, surrounding you, making you feel good.

He grunts as you clench down on him with another roll of his hips, sinking deeper into you with each thrust. “That’s it, pretty,” he grunts, “Taking me so well, fuck. So greedy for me.” And you tense up, your body convulsing and arching upwards as his thrusts grow more frantic— harsher and harsher as he groans gutturally in your ear with one last thrust long and deep, and when something shoots deep inside, you shiver one last time before your body sinks into the grass and debris and Chan’s weight cases you in.

You feel boneless. You feel when the man gets off you, when he closes your legs after slipping your underwear back on. You hear it when he sighs, something deep and satisfied, and you barely manage to answer when he asks you how you feel. Yet, somehow, it all comes back to you in a flash. You sit up, head throbbing, and stare up at him. Wide-eyed and fearful.

“Please don’t kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel.”

He grins, “I think we can work something out.”

[fandom-go-round]

HI! Can I request a TFP!Yan Knockout and/or Breakdown, x Gn!Reader,

maybe readers studying under Ratchet and Ratchet and reader have to go out to a distress signal not knowing it’s a trap, and Ratchet tells reader to run and Knockout and Breakdown chase them down? Thank you! <3

Warnings: Stalking, Canon Typical Violence, Yandere Characters, Kidnapping

            The sound of glass shattering onto the street made you flinch, shoulders curling inwards as you ran around the edge of an auto parts store. You tried your best to stay low but that made it harder to run and you didn’t know what was better, staying down or moving faster. You whimpered as you heard Ratchet swear and hit the ground, the concrete shaking.

            You slid into an ally, shrieking as a ladder slammed in front of you. Your heart was pounding in your chest, ears ringing. Part of you wondered if you were going into shock but it was too early to give up now.

            It was supposed to be a routine check. Ratchet had detected a distress signal during one of your training sessions. After a few minutes of begging, he agreed to take you with him. It was the middle of no where in Canada and everything was normal when you drove up. The store did seem to be in an odd location and the longer you investigated, the longer it seemed like something was off.

            Ratchet had let you out to explore when Breakdown slammed into him, metal screaming. The medic had yelled for you to run and you didn’t hesitate. It wasn’t your first time on the battlefield but this felt different. The air was tenser than a normal battle, something unspoken in the air. Breakdown wasn’t the main issue, it was Knockout.

            You had only seen him out of the corner of your eye but didn’t stop to make sure. You moved towards the tree line, trying to stay out of the view of battle. Red keeps following you and the pit in your stomach grows larger. The growl of an engine makes you swear, waiting to see where he’s going. You crouch behind a dumpster and watch as Knockout does a slow roll by; does he know you’re here? Is he playing with you?

            You dip out behind the building, hesitating when you hear Ratchet cry out in pain. You don’t want to leave him but how are you going to help? Just as you turn to go back Knockout swerves in front of you.

            Your mouth is dry as he transforms; he’s so fluid that you’re too distracted to run. He smirks and quickly grabs you by the middle, lifting you to eye level. The look on his face turns from smug to something almost hungry, his glossia licking his lips.

            “Finally came out to play hmm?” His voice is teasing and he gives you a squeeze. You open your mouth to say something but all that comes out is a yelp as he transforms around you. The seatbelt is taught against your body and there’s no way for you to move. His laughter fills the cab and your skin breaks out into goosebumps as he speaks over the radio.

            “Come on Breakdown, time to go. We got our prize.” You want to question him about what he means but you’re paralyzed with fear. Knockout takes off for the woods and Breakdown follows behind soon after. You don’t see Ratchet and hope that he’s alright, even as dread fills you. This had been a mission. Just a mission about you.

[towriteloveontheirarms]

I guess I wouldn´t believe you (modern!Best friend!Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader)

synopsis: When you moved in with your best friend since childhood for college, you never would have thought the outcome of it.

warnings: kind of angsty, best friends to lovers, kissing, afab reader

word count: 2k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall, @urmomsgirlfriend1

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom/series or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

For as long as you could think, Jace had been your bestest of friends. You stuck together through every little (and not so little) problem life threw at the two of you. Every fight between him and his uncles, every fight between their families, your parents’ divorce and in the end his family moving away from King´s landing. The two of you never lost contact. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder after all. Though when the two of you finally see each other in person again, after years of strictly conversing over the phone, you get floored by how much fonder your heart could grow. That first hug in such a long time makes your heart swell and your whole body tingle with what you think at first is platonic happiness to see and be close to him again. You should soon be taught better.

It´s the first week of College and, even with only having moved in a week ago, the two of you were already as inseparable as you were in childhood. At first you had thought sharing a cute, little apartment seemed like a good idea. Well, if you knew how much you wanted to bite yourself in the ass at the mere sight of other girls hanging around for “study sessions” throughout the year, you would have moved into the dorms.

As the dumbass that you are when it comes to your own feelings, the realization that it was jealousy and your feelings for your best friend have been more than just platonic, hits you over the head when it is almost too late. Literally, in the form of your friend Baela.

The two of you sit in the campus café on lunch break, talking over coffee as you always do. When she breaks out "So when will you stop being a little bitch and ask my brother out?"

She had always been one to tell hard truths in a rather harsh tone, but that's why you loved her so much.

"Baela!" You whisper at her loudly. Looking at the tables around you to see if any of them have heard you with a scandalized expression.

"What? Just the facts... You've been whining my ear off about Jace fucking around for the past year now, too blind to see that you're so deep in love with him it's grossing everyone out." She sticks out her tongue at you.

"Okay, so maybe I am in love with him... That still doesn't change the fact that he is my best friend. And more importantly he's not interested in me. OUCH!!" One of your hands shoots up to soothe over the spot of your head that just had made painful contact with Baela's hand. “What was that for?”

“That´s because you keep being a little bitch about your feelings.” She just says matter of factly.

“Fuck, Bae. That really hurt.” You whine at her.

“Good. It was supposed to.” Baela claps her hands and then stands up. “I have to run, but I swear I will do it again if you whine about anything regarding Jace again that isn´t him telling you he doesn´t reciprocate your feelings. Which, fyi I can promise you, won´t happen.”

With that little piece of wisdom your friend grabs her bag and the coffee cup and leaves you to ponder her words. And you come to the conclusion that, as much, as you hate it, she is once again right. You had cried to her about her brother for the past year. Drunk, sober, high, with actual tears or like right now. Now you just felt sorry for her. If you were her, you wouldn´t want to hear that much about your siblings being crushed on. Opening the door to your shared apartment with a huff you hear laughter from Jace´s bedroom. Throwing your keys into the bowl near the door you piss off to your room. Thank the seven for noise cancelling headphones, you think and put on some music as loud as you can. Anything to not have to hear what is going on in the room across the hall. Laying down on the bed, you don´t even notice when you fall asleep. Neither do you know how long you have been gone, but it is dark outside when a gentle hand shakes your shoulder.

“Hey.” Jace´s quiet voice rings through to your half asleep mind. “I made dinner, if you want some.”

“Yeah, yeah. I´ll be out in a sec.” You wave your hand in the air and unsuccessfully fight of a big yawn.

“Alright.” Jace goes back to the kitchen to wait for you. “So, how was your day?”

“Good, I guess. Not as good as yours though, I´d bet.” The comment comes of more cutting than you had wanted it too, but luckily your best friend is also a part time golden retriever and so he pushes your tone off to your brain still not having caught up with waking up fully yet.

“Did you do anything fun today?” He asks taking a full spoon of food into his mouth.

“Not really. I met up with Baela at the café earlier. Talked for a while, nothing interesting though. Sorry for not saying hi earlier. I didn´t want to interrupt your… visitor.”

“You wouldn´t have needed to. Sarah is just a good friend.” He looks at you with such a warm, unsuspecting gaze that you feel really bad for how mad you get with jealousy.

“A friend, sure.” You shake your head with a bitter chuckle. Trying to shake Baela´s words and the swirling feelings out of it. To no avail. Pocking the food on your plate some more, the fork in your hand soon meets the plate with a loud clink.

“What do you mean with that?” Jace´s now puzzled brown eyes search for an answer in your ones, but you don´t give him a chance. Turning to leave for your room, before things turned truly ugly or you could admit to something you weren´t ready to admit to.

“Hey, wait! What did you mean just now?” You can hear Jace raise his arms in confusion, but ignore his plea for an answer once more.

Regarding him only with a clipped "Nothing, forget about it."

Slamming the door to your room it gets opened again only moments later. Gods, why couldn't he leave this alone.

"Why are you so angry all of a sudden? Did something happen? Do you want to talk about it?" He asks stepping close to you, but still keeps a safe distance as he sees your disgruntled face.

"Can't you just forget it?" You ask exasperatedly.

"No. We used to talk about everything. What happened to that? We barely even talk anymore even though we literally live in the same place." The brunet was getting worked up too now. Slightly raising his voice.

It wasn't something you had never heard before. Naturally in all the years of your friendship you had fights before. They just never felt so stupid and avoidable.

"Of course you would say that... How could we have talked, when the second the school year started, you busied yourself with Cregan Stark and literally seemingly every girl on this campus?” Your tone is sharp and accusing. Your breath fastens in your chest the more you raise your voice. Your heartbeat speeding up at an equal pace.

“Are you jealous of Cregan? You know you will always be my best friend, right? No one could ever replace you. Not even Cregan Stark.” His amused chuckle makes you think you really are going insane.

“How can someone be so smart and so stupid at the same time? I´m not fucking jealous of Cregan!” A hand rubs over your face, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Then what is it?” He questions and the words spill out of you before you can think about them.

“I´m jealous of the girls you are with.” You clasp a hand over your mouth as to not reveal more but the damage is done. Instantly a heavy silence lays itself over you.

"Why would you be jealous of them?" Jace finds his voice again first. Its uncertainty still cuts through the quiet like a knife.

"Because I don't want to be just your best friend anymore. I have for a while, but you were too busy with those girls to notice that the guy I´ve been having a crush on for the past year.” Your voice turns desperate. There had been so many better ways to reveal this, but of course it had to come out in an argument. You are pretty sure you have just the worst possible outcome to this situation possible.

You raise your hands in defeat. "You know what? Forget it. Let's just forget I said anything. It's been a long day and I don't want to argue about this.”

“No. I´m not gonna forget about this. You are my best friend, why didn´t you tell me about your feelings earlier?” Jace takes another step closer to you now. Almost close enough to touch if you were to stretch out your arm a little. But you don´t. If anything you keep as far away as possible from him. Your face burns and your breathing goes into overdrive from everything you are feeling right now.

“Because I know you don´t feel the same and I didn´t want to make it a whole thing like it has become now, that eventually ruins our friendship.” Gods, why couldn´t you just stop talking? Why couldn´t he just stop talking?

“How do you know that?” Another step towards you and Jace´s voice becomes quieter again. Having an almost intimate ring to it now.

“How do I know that? Come on Jacey… I´ve known you forever. I know what it looks like when you have feelings for someone.” You try not to make it sound too obvious, but you can´t help it. It just is.

“Oh yeah? And what does it look like when I have feelings for someone?” His question distracting you from the way he moves ever closer.

“It definitely doesn´t look like you are a second version to your uncle Aegon. That´s for sure…” You murmur lowly.

“And what if I told you that Sarah is actually just a friend and all the other girls were just a distraction because I thought the girl I really liked wasn´t into me?”

“I guess I wouldn´t believe you.”

What happens next is truly incomprehensible to you. Jace leans in to close the gap between your faces. The touch of his lips is feather light as they tenderly brush over yours. They are unexpectedly soft and have your stomach turning as butterflies take flight in your stomach. You had dreamt this moment a hundred times maybe more, but you never could have imagined how good it would truly feel to have Jace´s rough palms wander over your bare arms, up the back of your neck to keep you as close to him as possible. Eager to keep this moment going for as long as he can. After a solid minute or two you lay one of your hands to his chest. Feeling the soft fabric of his shirt as you gently push him away.

“Do you believe me now?” He asks. Equally as breathless as you are.

“I… I don´t- I don´t understand…” Your eyes search the warm, brown pools of his for an answer but you are still too perplexed to find any.

“It´s you. I have feelings for you too. I just never thought you would return them, so I- well, you know.” Jace sheepishly rubs his neck at the admission that leaves his lips. A gesture that you always have thought made him look incredibly cute.

“You do?” You whisper. Feeling stupid that you can´t say something more.

“I do.” Jace responds. He is still so close you can feel his hot breath fan over your face. A sensation that makes a shiver run up your spine.

This time it is you that moves in for a kiss. Grabbing his shirt tightly in your hands as you lock your lips in a frantic manner. When you feel his tongue press against your lower lip, silently asking for entrance, you gladly grant it. Pulling him to your bed with you as your lips enter in a slow and intimate dance.

“I love you so much.” You whisper into the kiss.

“I love you more. Gods, I waited so long for this.”