#i just want to feel happy again that's all i want i hate feeling so desperate and scared constantly

[prettyboykatsuki]

lightning strike | h. iwaizumi

✮ tags ; afab + gn!reader, recently established relationship, mutual pining, pwp, dry humping + making out, nipple play, implied raw sex, super love-dovey, deliberate name change from iwaizumi to hajime 18+

✮ wc ; 4k (???????)

✮ a/n ; something deeply frightening happened to me in writing this but whatever. made it with ten minutes to spare happy bday mr iwaizumi

pls be nice if characterization is everywhere its been a while

He’s nervous.  

So nervous. 

You laugh at him over a can of beer, even harder when he visibly flinches at the sound. The room is too quiet since all of your company has left for the evening. Iwaizumi is tipsy but not drunk - though you think if he has another can he’ll get there just fine.  

“Your face is gonna get stuck if you keep frowning.”  

He shoots you a glare that makes your lips quirk up. “Shut up. You sound like my Ma.”  

“How is she by the way? Still good?”  

Iwaizumi snorts and takes a long sip of his beer. He tilts his head back against the couch, arm stretched along the seats. His muscles pull taut underneath the skintight material of his turtleneck. You find yourself sitting on your hands to calm down, but you’re too unfocused for it too work.  

“She’s good. She likes the countryside. Been growing squash and tomatoes and everything. Gonna try and stay with her a bit during off-season,” His voice is wistful and affectionate. An only son, filial and polite - you smile at him lovingly. “You should come visit with me.”  

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? Guess it’s the same since we’ve already met but since we’re going steady I though you might be too nervous.”  

The realization settles in too late. Just when you thought he’d swallow the nerves down, they make an appearance once again. He sits up straight, clearing his throat, diverting his gaze to the coffee table separating you both. A blush spreads up, all through his body. His ears turn especially turn some shade of cherry red. Dusts all along his nose. He tsks at you, tongue clicking with a familiar petulance. You bite back a laugh.  

“Going steady? Seriously?”  

“Well,” Your face twists in mischief as you look up at him, your eyes locking briefly. “You’d get all hissy if I called us lovers.”  

His eyes go wide - in equal parts shock and mild disgust. You can’t hold the laugh back that time time no matter how hard you try. It bubbles up out of you, euphoric and hysterical. Your laughter is too loud to savor his displeasure, so caught up in it that it takes you a few minutes to calm down again,  

“I hate you,” Iwaizumi mumbles. A grin splits your face. 

“No, you don’t.”  

He frowns and his blush darkens just a touch  

The room goes quiet save for the sound of your heartbeat. You try and collect yourself. The house feels too quiet, all prior company absen. Not that Mattsun and Maki dragged out Oikawa to be considerate of your newfound love or anything. You’re sure you’ve already gotten a long text detailing your extortion related to the favor. Still, you’re glad to be alone with him.  

It’s easy to split your time between all of them separately when you’re all in the same place - but complicated to be all together. And alone time with Iwaizumi has always been hard to come by.  

You’ve been pining for him since highschool - the frequency you wish to see him tuned tuned by the passing years of your relationship and feelings. You’ve gone through the whole spectrum of desires. From wanting to see him everyday constantly, to hoping you’d never have to see him again. It took you well over a decade to make any progress, and the entire process (while surely heartfelt) has been unmistakably clumsy and so, so long.  

Spending alone time with Iwaizumi has thus always been complicated except for this one time. You got together, officially, just last week. The day he came home, where you incidentally found yourselves alone together. Something that’d been rare years prior due to said pining and trying to get over him. You don’t even really know how it happened. It felt like the most significant moment in your life thus far and incomparably anticlimatic at once. He was just sending you home since you’d got completely shitfaced, and before you left you grabbed him by the collar and announced it. Just like that.  

(You threw up half-way through the car ride back. Your Uber was nice enough to pull over so you didn’t do it in his car.) 

You went home after and didn’t speak for days. It took a few more days for either of you to work up the courage to sort things out forreal, but you made it work with the help of even more alcohol.  

Things get busy though, when Oikawa returns home and Hajime is off-season. It’s rare things line up, and when they do - it’s only natural you spend all your time together. You did today too, celebrating Iwaizumi’s birthday among the four of you with take-out and Godzilla movies on your nice flatscreen.  

But you haven’t been alone with each other since your chat establishing your relationship as not a pipe-dream, which was notably through text.  

He’s nervous, so incredibly nervous but so are you. Just a little.  

You look up after being lost in thought - to see Iwaizumi stare at you. The air shifts slow and steady, thick tension stirring in your gut. You bite the inside of your cheek, rubbing your feet together as you fold over yourself, chin resting on your knee. 

You wonder if you should be the one to break the distance. Iwaizumi beats you to the punch this time. You suppose you’re even.  

“Come ‘ere.”  

He pushes the coffee table farther away from him with ease, careful not to knock anything over. Your tipsy self swoons over his competence, but you’re sure you’d do the same sober.  

The look he gives you as you crawl over to him makes you feel bashful. You go over until you’re sitting side by side - stretching your legs out. Your thighs barely touches. Iwaizumi jolts, swiping a hand over his face in exasperation.  

“Sorry,”  

You shake your head. “It’s okay.” Because it is, then just to make sure. “Are we okay?”  

“More than okay,” He admits, a breath of relief following the words. “It was a good birthday, by the way. Thank you.”  

“They’ll get upset that you only thanked me,”  

He bristles immediately making you giggle. “I’ll thank those knuckleheads later.” 

You smile at him, wide and bright. He looks at you before quickly looking away, laughing a little humorlessly to himself. You wonder what he’s thinking about but decide against asking, comfortable letting him go at whatever speed.  

“Can I uh—“ He clears his throat. “Wanna kiss you. Just uhh… shit.”  

You’d love to tease him, but you feel like your heart might explode out of your body so there’s not really much room. Nodding, you sit up on your knees and turn a little to face him. His features soften with remarkable fondness. You flush at the sudden attention. He sits up straighter, turning his head to face you. His forehead knocks against yours softly, noses brushes. His eyes are so sharp. You have to close your own when you feel him leaning in to kiss you.  

Iwaizumi is warm. His lips are softer than you thought they’d be. His hands feel big as one snakes up to cup your neck. He gives you one deep kiss, followed by two pecks before pulling away to make you chase him. He rewards you by kissing you agai. The sudden pressure makes your head spin.  

You pull away dazed. “You’re… super good at kissing.”  

“Yeah?”  

You press your thighs together at his reply. So sexy it’s unfair. “Uh-huh.”  

He gives you a weighted hum. 

His reaction spurs you on then. You pull away from him momentarily. Iwaizumi stares at you in reply, worry making his brow furrow. Before he can get the words out, you seat yourself on his lap. He’s taken aback as he realizes your intent, your arms around his neck. It’s not even really the alcohol, as much as it’s everything else. Cramped in your living room together, pressed up against your couch. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, and shiver in his arms smelling his cologne. Spicy with a hint of pine. He hesitates, hands settling so carefully on your hips.  

He lets you stay like that undisturbed until you’re ready to pull away. Like he senses you needed that. He’s always been so good at knowing what exactly you need. Suddenly restless you decide you need to look at him again - make sure he’s real. That this is real.  

“Hey,” He mutters. His pitch is low, sends your heart hammering.  

You giggle, fluttering nervously. “Hi,” And then, “You like me,”  

“Pfft,” His voice is so tender, so soft, so comforting. “More than that.”  

Suddenly overwhelmed by your own giddiness, you squeak. You want to bury yourself in his shoulder again, but he’s quick to hold your wrist and stop you. He pins you under his gaze. It’s so intense you can’t help but feel like a deer caught in headlights. Your head is empty and all he’s doing is looking at you.  

But maybe that’s the whole problem. He’s looking at you, and you’ve wanted that for more than a decade. Now having it is too much, too suddenly - and you’re almost afraid of having it. It’s just a gaze, but it’s yours. He’s telling he’s yours in a way that’s just like him.  

“You…” He starts on something before letting you go. “For a long time,”  

He doesn’t need to explain. You already know.  

“Me too,” 

He calms down when you get it..  

“Really?” He follows up. He doesn’t look at you as he goes on. “How long?”  

You think on it.  

“Since we were fifteen?”  

“Same as me, then.” He’s clumsy with the follow-up. “That’s…”  

“Dumb? Ridiculous? Too long?” You say, filling in the words for him. “I know.”  

The extent of your own longing comes to you in waves. Love, like the sea trapped behind ice - so easily shattered. You’re drowning, your lungs aching trying to get adjusted to what is finally yours. The shock of it comes and goes, but you’re surrounded by it all the same. Iwaizumi stares at you and you stare back and nothing in the world exists except this desire you’ve kept to yourself for years.  

His name comes out like a whimper on your lips. “Iwaizumi,”  

“Hajime,” He corrects, so tender. So sweet to you. “Please,”  

“Hajime,” You test the name out on your tongue. It’s sweet.  

He doesn’t say anything after that.  

Your breath hitches as Hajime crowds into your space again. His hands are firm on your hips as he kisses you again. It’s different from before, lingers longer - his tongue pressing along the seam of your lips until you open them and allow him in deeper.The taste of alcohol is clearer on your tongue, bitter remnants of malt making you drool at the corners of your mouth. You kiss hungrily, your hands carding through the short, black hair with a longing sigh. Hajime groans a little when you tug at the root and the only thing you can think to do is try to sink into him further. .  

The hear raises without warning. Your skin under your clothes feels like it’s on fire. It feels different too suddenly for you to adjust and keep completely calm. Lust that borders cosmic engraves into your bones. Crumbling under the weight of it, you kiss Hajime like your life would end without it. In the moment, it feels like it would. Exchanged breaths are the only source of air for that space and time. You feel frantic, hazy - and Hajime who you know to be so steady, proves to be in the same place as you. 

His hands are so big. You can feel how tight he grabs you, his thumb pressing into your hipbones - itching to go lower. You don’t want to pull away but you want more. In the second you take a breath you tell him as much. Your own delirium might bring you shame if you were in any place to really feel it. “You can touch me. However you want.”  

“Fuck. Don’t say that.”  

“Hajime, please.”  

You mutter something but you don’t catch what it really. Your head is swimming with unrepentant ardor and your tongue feels too heavy for your mouth. Hajime kisses you again and takes the lead. The pleasure echoes in how you sigh, your hips rutting against his lap as his hands squeeze your ass. His hands are so fucking big - strong and kind and hold you with no uncertainty. The groping goes straight to your cunt, stomach starting to twist with familiar arousal. You push your hips against him again.  

You’re hardly thinking about it. Hardly thinking at all - no coherency or sense thrumming through your brain except his name. Hajime, Hajime, Hajime. An incantation of destiny. A love song.  

You feel his fingers inch up to go underneath your shirt - all of a sudden feeling burdened by all the layers between you. You can’t calm down. 

He pulls away from you first in that instance. Before you can ask, he nudges himself close to your neck, kissing along your jaw. You feel the fabric of your shirt tug. “Can I take this off?”  

You nod rapidly, then mimic him wanting him to do the same. His laugh is raspy in the follow through - your shirt and bra discarded somewhere on the floor. He stops suddenly, flicking his gaze up to you like he’s asking permission again. You just nod, not knowing how else to convey your desires.  

Your nipples pebble in response to the arousal and cool air. Hajime’s tongue flicks from his lips.  

His gaze makes you feel ticklish. He runs his palms over your tits with an appreciative noise. His eyes linger long enough to make your skin go hot all over, your spine prickling with heat.  

“Staring,”  

He looks up at your face, amused by your pout then kisses you as he feels you up, calloused palms brushing against your nipples, tits fitting perfectly in his hands. He smiles a little against your mouth. “Guess I am.”  

“Take yours off,” You plea. 

He obliges you, peeling the tight shirt away from his body and leaving his bare torso in full view. The proximity makes your lungs tighten like they can’t get enough air - heat radiating from his skin. His physique is toned, layers of muscle soft and comfortable He’s structured and gorgeous like a statue. You’re greeted by his broad chest and the corded muscles of his biceps. All sinew and strength, down his core. Strong and stable and big everywhere you could possibly look. You feel awestruck, mouth-watering at the sight - clit throbbing. Objectively attractive, you’re sure anyone in your place would feel the same. But this is your Hajime and the body he’s worked so hard on, full grown and yours. The trail of hairs down his stomach, getting coarse. The v-line of his waist makes you clench. 

 Too much.  

 The words tumble out of you before you can stop them, like water spilling from a broken dam. “I want you to fuck me so bad,”  

His brows raise. You can feel something twitch hard against your clothed pussy. At full mast underneath the confines of his pants. \Your eyes go wet when you realize what it is. Mind sticky, you draw your lips into a pout and silent protest. Despite your desperation, you almost want to say it again, pleasure thrumming through your body at his reaction. It feels like electricity sparking up from the base of your spine all the way to the top of your head. 

 Hajime presses his face to your neck all over again - hot, open mouth kisses trailing from jaw to chest. You gasp when his mouth closes around your tits, tongue laving over the tender skin and making your back arch.  

“Wanna fuck you so bad,” He mirrors. His voice is scratchy and his grip is tight. “Been wanting to fuck you so bad for so long, you have no idea.”  

There’s something true and well pathetic about the yearning that wells up inside of your gut and settles itself in your sternum. It spreads and grows and tangles in your ribs, curls around the vessels of your heartbeat. The kind of yearning that makes your whole being tremble, makes you want to preen and sing like a canary. It’d be good if time stood still so he could fuck you infintely - never being able to go where you can’t reach.  

You rock against him and Hajime holds you steady like always. His voice drops down to murmur - speaking with alarming clarity. You’re teary from the sound of his voice.  

“Let’s cum together,” He offers as reprieve, so sweet despite the harsh grip on your hips as he draws your weight down closer to him. You’re suddenly conscious of your choice in clothes - how thin the fabric of your shorts really as as the rough outline of his cock presses against the seam. You’re glad you didn’t wear underwear “And then I’ll make you cum again. I’ll take care of you,”  

“You always take care of me,” You say with no awareness of your surroundings. He laughs breathlessly. ‘ 

“Yeah..since it’s you, it’s easy.”  

You go wide-eyed but don’t get a minute to dissect. Not bothering to unbutton his jeans, you gape at the hard outline of his cock confined in black boxers. his  He picks you up with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist as your spine touches the carpet of your living room floor. You make a surprised noise as you’re let down gently. He doesn’t unfurl you from him. You spark back to life as his lips meet yours again chastely. The complaint you had dies on your lips when he trails down your jaw again. His voice is next to your ear, sinfully rough - warm breath tickling your skin. His teeth tug on your ear lobe and you shiver.  

“Tell me if it’s too much,”  

You don’t get a chance to ask about it.  

The sudden motion of his hard cock rutting and humping against your sticky, wet cunt punches the air of out of your lungs.  

There’s only a single layer of wet fabric keeping him from fucking you.  The very idea makes your pussy throb unhelpfully. You understand all of a sudden that this was what he meant about wanting to make you cum. But it’s Hajime, your Hajime - so making you do any work wouldn’t cut it. Humping you in missionary of all things like he’s already inside you.  

The thought overwhelms and you gasp.  

You don’t recognize the sound of your own voice, so high and pitchy with need. Pure pornography. But there’s no camera for you perform for, nothing but Hajime above with with a heavy gaze. Your spine arches at the sensation once it hits its stride, the angle of friction just right. The indirect touches makes your core throb. Your clit has been achingly sensitive for so long, and the release of tension in a single thrust is enough to make you shudder each time. It feels like you’ve been holding the feeling in your entire life. You wheeze his name out brokenly as he does it again - a sharp thrust, precise enough to be perfect like he already knows you that well.  

Your lower body feels week as the arousal starts to climb to a steady chorus. You pant for him like a bitch in heat.  

He’s not inside you but the smack of his hips against yours makes you feel like you’re getting fucked anyways. You imagine how it’ll feel when he really fucks you and can’t see straight after the fact. Each little movement spreads precum along your shorts, already wet with your own arousal. The friction of the damp fabric makes you cry out from pleasure,  animalistic with need. Your nails dig into his biceps as he kisses you all over, wherever he can possible reach. Along your neck, shoulders, collarbones chest. Any place he has accsess.  

You want him so fucking deep it’s frustrating, want him up to your throat - but the lack of direct touch makes you want him more desperately. And it makes it feel so, so good. The kind of pleasure that’s dull and throbbing but makes something in your spine go alight, like shoving your thumb into a bruise. You want Hajime to press himself into you hard enough to make the healed dull yellows vibrant purple and red all over again.  

You gasp helplessly each time he rocks his hips into you. He’s whispering such filth against your ear, into your mouth each time you kiss and you can’t reply with anything but his name. He praises you each time anyway, goads you into saying it again. Again and again and again until you can’t find your own voice.  

“Say it again,” Hoarse, punctuated by another thrust that nearly drives you over the edge and makes your eyes go wide. “Say my name again, baby”  

“Hajime.” So you say it- can’t think of any substitute since you’re not sure god would suffice. Locked between you in the warm sticky air is just Hajime, all yours.  

Every muscle in your body starts to lock up as you hit the final stride to your orgasm. You want to cum so badly for him and only him. All over his cock in any way he’ll light you. The thought pushes you over the edge. Over and over and over until you hang over the precipice of your own orgasm. When it hits, it hits like a crash of thunder on open plain. Like suddenly everything in you that’s every been grounded in Earth is scattered with sparks, skating and careening across your body. You feel him in the fiber of your being. Your toes curl at the sudden release, not able to voice a warning that isn’t just a soft gargle in the back of your throat. He doesn’t stop or stutter in his motion, instead gripping your hips tight as he can while lets you run through your high - nothing but praise and affection.  

You can feel him more than you can see him cum along with you. Sticky, hot seed flowing in spurts as his dick twitches for you - his ragged breathing covering your skin in goosebumps. You moan at the warm sensation drenching your poor, covered pussy and find the load to be wasted though you feel contented anyway. 

 You’re barely sane enough to catch your breath, but he eventually lets you down - though you can’t keep from hugging him. You pull back to look at each other.  

You brush the sweat matted hair away from his forehead with a lovesick sigh and giggle. He looks down at you with a grin, pressing his forehead to yours with.  

“Can’t believe I came in my pants like a teenager,” He says through a laugh.  

“It’s like making up for lost time,” You say warmly, all floaty. “Plus, the way you were fucking me but not fucking me…definitely a man. It was really hot, you know?”  

He groans. “I’ll get riled up again.”  

You smile at him. “Let’s fuck lots for your birthday, Hajime.”  

“Is that the present you mentioned earlier?”  

You pretend to think on it. “Mm..no. Not just the sex, anyway.” 

He looks at you confused as you lean in closer to him. “It’s safe so there’s no condoms anywhere in this apartment, unless you wanna go stop to get some.”  

He gives you a blown out look of lust with a soft breath, voice bordering a growl. “As if I’d make it through the door now.”  

You laugh helplessly happy and kiss him. “Happy birthday.” And then a little quieter. “I love you.”  

He softens visibly but doesn’t say anything else. You don’t need to hear him to know.  

You think the spare copy of your keys might make him cry. So you decide you’ll give it to him later. 

 The clock hasn’t hit midnight yet, anyhow. You have plenty of time.  

Now and always.  

[sweetnans]

Stuck in the moment || Bakugo, K.

Pairing: fuckboy Bakugo/hopelessly romantic fem. reader

Trope: Enemies/friends to lovers.

summary: You made a mistake, a huge mistake. You fucked the most cocky, annoying, bastard, fuckboy you knew. Bakugo Katsuki. And that fact was against all your beliefs. Now, after the rumor (truth) spread like a pandemic virus in college you'll have to live with the stormy consequences of your acts and whatever trash was brought with it.

a/c: Hey, it's me again. Here we are in a new series I plan to continue. I really hope you enjoy it. I put my favorite man in action (bakugo) being a selfish bastard that you would love eventually and I couldn't help to put another "trope" I'm a sucker for (guardian/father figure Aizawa) I'm so sorry if that bothers you. Once again, I'm sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language. (Not proofread yet)

m.list

Blame it on the ovulation process. You couldn't believe that you ended up making out (drunkly) and fucking the one and only Bakugo Katsuki.

Bakugo was a total pain in the ass back in UA high school, and after the big battle, when the doctor told him to cooperate after his heart injury and surgery, he changed for better. Well... better is a word to describe it.

He had the looks, he had the attitude, and now, in College UA, he found a way to get the chicks at his feet. Who knew he would be good at flirting and getting the female attention, putting aside his obnoxious and loud behavior?

In the other part, you knew better, but damn, now you felt bad, betrayed by your own hormones, doing the walk of shame to your room.

Bakugo Katsuki was a fucking legend in college, the major fuckboy, hoping from chick to chick and jeez that broke all your standards about boys, how did you even end up in his room?

Oh, that was a good question that you could answer. Fucking cosmopolitans made by Denki and Jirou, they wrecked all your senses and because the planets were aligned you ended ip tearing up all his clothes along with him grabbing every part of your body while eating your mouth. He was a good kisser though.

You slid your keys on the lock of your room door. Jirou was there in her bed, laying with Denki who was sound asleep.

"Girl," she sat in seconds at the sight of you, patting Denki's arm to wake him up.

"Don't," you told her, completely defeated. "I just wanna cry"

You couldn't stop the tears streaming down your face.

For you, giving Bakugo your body and an intimate moment wasn't something to be happy for. He wasn't in your to-do list compared to other girls that you knew were dying for a peak of him.

You believed in love, in the vulnerability that it brought alongside the happiness and the sappiness. You wanted to be loved and not be used. For you, Bakugo wasn't a trophy, he was a mistake.

"Just let it go." Jirou hugged you tightly. "Did he do something to you?"

"No, no," you cried in her shoulder, feeling her arms around your body and Denki cli ging in your back. "He was a complete gentleman,"

You hated yourself for reacting like that. The man gave you all of his stamina pounding himself into you, and he was almost romantic about it. You were a fool, not like you were catching feeling upon the act, not at all. You just didn't want to be one more of his long ass list.

You had a single rule. Don't sleep with people you don't have feelings for. You knew that for some people, it was easy not to get attached but for you, even if you didn't feel anything like sentimental after the act you ended up craving the affection and the tenderness that came up with a relationship.

You've slept with boyfriends in the past and you did good with friends with benefits because at least there was a friendship to cling on, in this case, you only knew Bakugo by name and because Denki, your bestfriend's and roommate's boyfriend hangout occasionally with his group.

"I'll avoid him," you told your friends. "And everything's going to be fine"

You dried your tears and excused yourself, gathering your belongings to go and take a shower. You could still feel his scent in your skin.

Walking to the common woman bathroom, you tried to block the memories in your mind, and it worked until you opened the door.

"Hey," the pink girl greeted while putting on make-up in front of the mirror. "Oh my god, I know you, you are the girl from the party last night, right?"

Mina Ashido, one of Bakugo closest friend.

"Yeah," you tried to smile, but you failed. God wasn't on your side today.

"Are you okay?" She asked worried.

What could have given you away? Oh, your swollen and red eyes for sure.

"Yeah, I'm just hungover." You tried to laugh her worry away, and when Jirou asked about the encounter, you told her that you wanted to believe that it worked. But you never fooled anyone.

"Me too" she said giggling.

Thank god she didn't push it.

"I'm going to shower, so see you later...?" You said, and it sounded like a plan, but you just wanted to be nice with her.

"Oh, before you go, do you have any tampons? My period just came early this month. I think it's a reaction after drinking a huge amount last night"

Hormones, you knew about that.

Shit, period? Did he wear any condoms? I mean, you had your anti-babies method and all, but what about STD?

"Hello? Calling from earth, " Mina waved his hand in front of your face and you regained consciousness.

"Shit, yeah, sorry, here." You led her your last tampon from your bag.

"Thank you so much," Mina said, grabbing all her things into her purse. "I will see you around"

That encounter only made things worse. Albeit you wanted to avoid the bastard you needed to find him to have the most embarrassing talk of all.

You knew Bakugo's sexual life like the palm of your hand. The rumors on campus spread like the Black Death in medieval Europe. You prayed that your name wouldn't appear on those rumors.

It was easy finding him among his friends, the red-headed enormous cinnamon roll, the tall one with the tape quirk, and, of course, Mina.

You approached slowly and tensed. The first one on seeing you was Mina, who was happy to see you again after you gave her your last tampon. She waved his hand in your direction, and you smiled at her, trying to dissipate your nerves.

The time has come.

"Hey, uhm, I need to talk to you." You twisted your hands nervously after patting his shoulder to gain his attention. He turned around, and when caught that it was you in front of him, he just glared at you from above, the sun at his back making you squint your eyes a little. "In private," you said to complete your previous sentence.

He wasn't even giving you the time of the day before he was almost laughing at your face.

"Sorry, princess, I don't do rebounds." he solidly huffed at you with a side smile and all.

Mina was the first one to scold him while his friends just whined at his behavior.

That damn motherfucker son of a bitch bastard.

Your face passed from being the normal shade of your foundation and skin to a different shade of red. How could he be such a cunt about it?

But you had your mouth, too.

"Oh no, don't worry, I haven't seen a dick as small as yours, and you think I want to repeat that shit show? Oh, please. I just wanted to check if you have any STD I have to be aware of"

You lied about his dick at least. The only truth was that you didn't want to repeat the act.

The boys that were hanging out with him turned around to hide the giggling mess they were, while Bakugo only grunted in response, clenching his fist beside his stiff body.

"Why? Is there a problem down there? Is it itching or falling off?" He squinted his eyes at you, trying vehemently to put you down with his words. You denied moving your head like you didn't care at all about his attitude. "I don't have any STD. You should have seen it yourself when you were sucking me off"

Well, that was something a few people around heard. Scratch the "Don't be part of the rumor" from the list.

"Yeah, I should've had, but I forgot to bring my magnifying glass with me, that's completely on me, not your fault that you weren't blessed with something as big as your fucking ego"

The hushed screams of his friends were the beat you needed to turn around and leave him hanging. He had a piercing mouth, and you were almost trembling from the exchange of words, and yet, you didn't have the answer that you expected. Was he clean or not? Bakugo was a trustworthy man? Jeez, what a fucker.

Again, for the second time of the day you made your own walk of shame to your room.

"And, what did he say?" Jirou was waiting for you while she gathered all her belongings (and Denki's) to her side of the room.

"He said he doesn't have STD but I don't know if I should trust him...the scene was pretty intense." You sat in your bed, and she looked at you incredulously.

"Intense, how?" She quirked a brow, and you just shrugged before telling her everything.

"You did what!?" Denki stomped through the door. He was obviously listening behind the door like an old woman.

You hid your face in between your hands, internally screaming exhausted because of your poor decisions. Why did you leave the party with him of all people?

"He just nipped under my skin, and I had to defend myself, that's all," you tried to excuse yourself.

"You know that encounter is going to be the gossip of the week, right?" Jirou tapped your head gaining your attention. "You can't run of it"

"Jeez, I know"

All the situation was escalating from bad to worse real quick.

"Okay, fine, let's chill for a sec," Denki interrupted. "I'll find out about Kacchan medical records and I'll let you know, don't worry about it"

That's a good friend.

"Yeah, Denki can take care of that while you..."

"While I what?" You took your face off your hands.

"You know the rumor is going to spread before monday, right? You have to talk to Aizawa before he knows all of it in the worst way"

Shit. You had completely forgotten about the man who was kind enough to take you under his wing and be your guardian.

This was about to get good.

Let me know if you like it

taglist: @kiridagremiln @aefillor @screechingfangirlaf @chuugarettes @gold24fish @dreamcastgirl99 @andyetshewrote @budibbly @candiiee @linkfromskywardsword @galaneiaeris @fantasynerd05 @big-denki-energy @3thr3al @marsbars09 @whatswrong7 @scaranthropy

[finelinefae]

the other woman

synopsis: y/n is the other woman who just wants to be loved

word count: 5.5k

contains: angst, not a super happy ending maybe it is depending how u see it idk, harry is kind of a dick, mentions of medication, mentions of mental health (anxiety, allusions to depression), harry definitely listens to the 1975 in this, smoking, friends with benefits situation, toxic relationship

. . .

"That's the ugliest piece of shit I have ever seen."

"Yeah,"

"I love it."

"You do?"

"I adore it."

"Good."

Harry sat against the headboard of her bed which took up the majority of his tiny bedroom in his even tinier apartment an hour train ride from central London. He was shirtless, his trousers were unbuttoned and his hair was a dishevelled mess. He had a cigarette between his teeth, Y/N hated the way the smoke made the room smell but she would never tell him that.

She sat up against the wall, her legs on top of his. She wore cotton underwear and his shirt, the buttons weren't done up, his gaze switching between his sketchbook and her breasts. Her eyes were fixated on the picture in the center of the white A3 pages.

She didn't know what it was but it was black and white and looked like skin. She wondered whether it was his skin but she wouldn't have called it ugly. She had seen every inch of his skin and the last forty-five minutes was proof of that. Her lips had pressed against the most intimate of places, she would know if it was his skin.

"What is it?" She frowned, tilting it to one side to see if a change in perspective would enhance its features.

"It's an areola," He responded, releasing a sigh, almost as if he was frustrated she didn't know he had taken a picture of a woman's breast.

"A tit?" Her heart began to race as she thought about him taking pictures of her without asking.

He chuckles and puts out his cigarette on her bedside table, leaning forward to throw it out of the window. "It sounds less artistic when you say it." He leans back again and reaches for a strand of her hair to play with. "But yes it is a tit."

'Who's is it?' She wanted to ask 'When did you take it?' 'Is she pretty?' 'Why not me?'

She could feel herself slipping away, wanting to cover herself up the more she questioned him in her own head. She glanced down at her chest briefly.

"It's not you." His words stung more than they should.

"I know that." She pushed the sketchbook away, not wanting to look at the picture of another woman's areolas. "What for?"

"We're doing the human form." He answers,

"Right."

"You're upset."

"I'm fine." She argued but the truth was she was upset and she hated the fact he knew that immediately.

He was good at hiding his emotions, he always had that sense of mystery to him, her not so much. She was sensitive and wore her heart on her sleeve. She was desperate to fall in love and when she did, she felt it to her very core, her chest would ache at the thought of being isolated from human contact. Sometimes she felt he took advantage of that but if she were to admit that, she would have to leave him and she couldn't do that.

She would rather die than be alone, especially if it meant being away from the one person to who she had developed an unhealthy attachment since they had met.

Harry's phone went off and he quickly reached across her to grab it from his side table. She felt like someone was pinching her all over as he bit back a grin at whoever had sent him a text. Suddenly being naked around him felt wrong so she quickly reached for her clothing that had been discarded on the bedroom floor.

"You're leaving?" He asks.

"Who is it?"

"It's nobody." She knew him long enough to know when he was lying.

"How long have you been seeing her?" Y/N wasn't going to cry, she wasn't, she really really wasn't.

Harry rolled his eyes, "You're being dramatic," He always tried to make it seem as if her feelings were too big for the space around them.

"You're a fucking jerk you know that?" She pulled her trousers up her legs and didn't even bother to button them up as she went in search for her shoes. "You show me someone else's tits as soon as we finish having sex? And then you get a text message and don't even tell me who it is?"

"I don't know why you're getting so upset we agreed long ago this was just a temporary thing."

"Oh I know you remind me that every time, I like to remind myself every day I'm just someone to pass the time." Y/N was used to being someone made to be used by someone else. She could be bleeding on the floor in the middle of the street and she wouldn't be surprised if someone took a plastic bottle and started filling it up with her blood in hopes it could save someone else before they even thought about rescuing her.

The problem was, she didn't even try to stop them. People entered her life and took pieces of her and carried them away with them, just to discard them later. Before she even thought about healing herself, someone else would come along and snatch another piece of her away.

That was the problem with people who were afraid of living with no love in their life, they were prepared to do anything for it. Y/N put too much faith in people despite the number of times she had been let down by the people close to her.

Harry was no different to that it seemed.

"What are you talking about? Hey," He grabs her wrist and pulls her into him, his eyes were sharp and for a brief moment, she thought she saw a flicker of emotion in his eye. Her heart pounded at the touch of his fingertips grazing her pulse. "What do you mean? You don't really believe that do you?"

"What does it matter? I know nothing about you Harry."

"You know more about me than anyone else does."

Sometimes it didn't feel like it.

Harry liked to make her feel special. He was good at it. He sent her texts during the day and brushed his hand against hers when they passed in the hallways. They'd come back to his place after a few drinks with friends in the evening, fuck, and be done with it. He'd send her away and act as if what they did didn't matter to him.

It mattered to her though. No one thinks that about a rebound or a person you had casual sex with but it always matters. She had never slept around until she had met him and now she was intoxicated by him because it mattered, right from the very beginning.

She closes her eyes and nods, "Please tell me who it was." She almost pleads with him.

"It's the girl in the picture, she's in my photography class." He admits.

"Do you like her?" Y/N almost whispers, she braces herself for the answer. She had been dreading the day he was planning to end this, she thought she would have more time.

Harry's head falls back like it kills him inside to give an honest answer to her question, "I really like her."

Y/N pushes him back and finally cries in front of him, "Go to Hell."

"Y/N-" He tries.

"No," She moves away from him quickly and reaches for the door, "And for what it's worth I lied, that is the ugliest piece of shit I've ever seen and I hate it. It's ugly and you are an awful photographer."

She was glad she got that out as she slammed the door behind her on the way out.

An hour later she called him.

"Harry, I'm sorry," She whimpers and sobs into the phone. It was an ugly, heart wrenching sob as she cried to him on the phone, "I didn't mean to upset you. I don't think it's ugly at all. I'm sorry,"

"Hey love, it's okay, it's okay," He comforted her.

"I didn't mean it Harry please forgive me I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry. Please, please, please, please." She said the words over and over again. Pleading for something that seemed like more than forgiveness.

"Y/N I forgive you, I promise. Please go to sleep." He asks her, he was worried for her but she had done this often enough he knew it wasn't anything serious.

"Promise?" She cries, sniffling.

"I promise,"

"Okay, I'm sorry Harry."

"I forgive you."

The call ended and Y/N lay back staring at the ceiling, her eyes burning from all the crying she had done since she got home from being with Harry. She turned over and took half a miligram of xanax and a sleeping pill, despite her doctor telling her not to, and fell asleep.

"Who was that?" Harry turned to look at the girl in the photo who was now lying on his bed. Her hair was flipped to one side, exposing her entire neck and collarbones.

"Nobody." He forced a smile on his face and walked over to her with his camera, the sounds of Y/N's pleading echoing in his head for the remainder of the night.

--

The next day, Y/N walked into the art room for her first class of the day. She took out her portfolio and sat at her table where she had been working on her next project. It was a painting she had been working on for the past few days and she wasn't near to being finished just yet.

Her eyes were swollen and red from having spent the majority of yesterday crying her eyes out. She skipped her therapy appointment and turned her phone off as she thought about how lonely she really was and how she had no one but herself to blame for putting herself in that situation.

Harry was also in this class but he hadn't turned up yet. The thought of him made her stomach twist. Picturing his smile as he told her about the girl he had been seeing, 'I really like her.' echoed in her head and she wondered what it would be like for him to say that about her.

"How's it going?" Ollie, a good friend of Y/N's, sat down at the easel and stool next to her and placed his backpack on the ground at his feet. He pulled out his pens and watercolor paints as he set up his station to paint.

"Fine." She muttered, reaching for her headphones in her pocket and putting one in her left ear.

"That doesn't sound good." He chuckled, shaking his head.

"I'm fine Ollie." She repeated, a little more hostile this time.

"Did you go to Harry's place yesterday? I tried to call you but it went straight to answerphone."

"What makes you think that?" She looked at him, tilting her head in curiosity.

"You have this look in your eye." He seems as if he doesn't want to go on but she waits for him to carry on speaking, "I don't know how to describe it... It's like someone's put light in your chest just to then suck the life out of you." He motions towards her painting, "Kind of like that."

She looked at her painting and stared at it. A woman sat in an empty room, a stream of light hitting her face from the window. Outside were people celebrating amongst vines and trees and flowers. The painting was a mixture of beiges and browns and green but the woman's eyes were black and lifeless... they were the saddest pair of eyes she had ever seen.

--

"Fuck," Harry groaned and fell on top of her, sweat beading his forehead as he left her and fell to her side. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, her mind was blank and her chest was heavy.

Harry reached across her for his phone, "Shit." He muttered, shifting to the end of the bed and jumping to his feet.

"What?" Y/N asked, sitting up, the blanket falling to her waist.

"I didn't know what time it was, I'm late for my class." He pulled up his trousers and ran his fingers through his hair as he went in search for a shirt to wear on his bedroom floor.

"Hmm." She sighed and fell back, reaching for one of his cigarettes and fiddling with it between her fingers.

"Are you going to smoke that?" He nodded towards the cigarette.

"Would you like me more if I did?" She replied.

He frowned, "I'd like you just the same."

She stared at him, he was so pretty. He had just gotten out of bed and his hair was a mess, his shirt had a stain on and his trousers were undone but he was so beautiful. She wondered if he ever thought that about her, whether she was beautiful despite the ugliness and mess.

Y/N reached for a lighter, lit the end of the cigarette, and inhaled the smoke.

She didn't seem to mind the way it made the room smell this time because it was a reminder that he had actually been there in her presence even just for a brief few minutes. She stared at the empty room where he once stood.

--

Y/N remembered when she first saw them together. It was a Friday night and all the art students spent Friday night at a bar in Camden Town. Y/N and Harry weren't in the same friendship circle but they had friends that knew friends and that was really how they met.

She sat with Ollie on a couch as everyone else played pool. She had taken three shots of vodka and was on her first drink of the night. The door opened and they both walked in hand in hand. The girl was stunning, her legs were long and thin, her hair was thick and wavy, her eyes were innocent and shone underneath the lights of the bar and her hand was intertwined with Harry's.

They caught eyes for a brief second before Harry turned away from her and went over to the bar to order them a drink. Ollie was talking about something she wasn't paying much attention to as her eyes stayed fixated on them.

She noticed the way his hand pressed against her back at the bottom of her spine and how he brushed her hair behind her ear as they leaned against the bar waiting for their drinks. How she smiled as he whispered something to her and bit her lip as he traced the back of her hand with the tip of his finger.

Y/N realised the Harry standing in front of her was someone she had never met before. It was strange how we never really know the people we meet as they choose to present themselves as someone else depending on who they are with. It's only when you're with your person that you can truly be your authentic self. She wondered which version of himself was real. She even wondered which version of herself was real, who she was with him or who she was without.

"I'm going to go over there." Y/N slurred, moving off the couch but falling back again as the room began to spin.

"Oh no you don't." Ollie pulled her back. "I'm not going to let you embarrass yourself like that."

"Why would I be embarrassed?" He looked at her like she was supposed to understand what he was hinting to.

"You'll forgive me in the morning." He said like he had done her some kind of favour.

She did.

--

"When are you going to take pictures of me for your class?" She wondered, playing with the ends of her hair on his bed as Harry fiddled with the strings of his guitar.

"You want me to do that?" He asked.

"Why not? I think it would be fun." She thought for a moment, "What would you choose to take pictures of?"

Harry pondered on the idea, thinking really hard to come up with an answer to her question. She bit her lip to hold back a smile. She liked the idea of him scanning his memories for parts of her body he had seen. It made her happy knowing that pieces of her were ingrained into his mind like lyrics to a song or the colours of the rainbow.

"Your eyes." He answered after a while.

She frowned, not expecting the answer, "What?"

"Your eyes." He repeated.

"That's it?" Her eyes were the only part of her he thought worth photographing?

"Yeah."

"That's boring." She muttered, falling back against the mattress.

"What makes you say that?"

"You took a picture of that girls boob and you've probably taken a lot more pictures since you like her so much." He cringed and set his guitar down to look at her properly. Harry knew he had to be careful with what he was saying, he could tell by the tone of her voice she was getting upset.

"Those were the only pictures I took." He argued, "And besides, I like your eyes."

"You never look into them." She retorts.

"Of course I do."

"You don't."

A beat of silence rested between them until Harry spoke again, "Maybe when you're not looking."

"Why would you look at my eyes when I'm not looking?" She wasn't understanding anything he was saying.

"Because I love watching you watch the world." He replied. "If I don't know how I feel about something I look at your eyes and everything makes sense. Sometimes it feels as though I'm understanding the world through you."

Her face softened, her heart settled in her chest. She felt warmth spread through her like she had just received a warm hug. The corners of her lips tugged upwards and she crawled over to kiss his cheek. "That was possibly the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me." She confessed, her heart expanding.

"Then you need to be surrounded by better people." He reached for his guitar. "Come sit here." He patted his thigh and she rolled off the bed to sit exactly where he asked.

He began to play a song on his guitar, gently singing the lyrics in a low voice. She rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck.

It was one of those moments she wanted to freeze and stay in forever. Nothing else existed outside of this bubble. Her heart was happy.

--

Ollie's birthday was January 23rd and he was having a house party at his flat.

"How many people are coming?" Y/N asked as she applied mascara in front of his bathroom mirror. She was crouched down inside the sink so she could get as close as possible to the mirror.

"I don't know, I invited about twenty and said they could spread the word to whoever was available." OIlie applied aftershave as he spoke.

"So everyone?"

"Possibly."

Y/N was excited to see Harry. Although they didn't speak much outside of the confinements of his bedroom, she was still looking forward to being in his presence. Ever since their intimate moment, they shared a few days ago, she had been longing for him. Her heart sighed in bliss at the thought of being near him again.

She wanted to wear something extra special that she thought he would like. Her hair was curled, which she never normally did, she wore black, leather trousers and a black corset to go with it and black heels to make her slightly taller than she really was. She accessorised with gold jewellery and had done her makeup in a much more simple manner.

"You look like that girl." Ollie spoke as soon as she walked into his kitchen.

"What girl?" She blushed.

"The one Harry was with at the bar the other night. I mean, the outfit is hot but you never wear your makeup and hair like that."

"Geez would it kill you to just say I look 'good'?" She mumbled, flicking her hair behind her shoulder. She never normally wore her hair down as it irritated her.

Ollie's face softened, she hated the sympathy on his face, "You look fucking hot." He said, pulling her in for a hug, "Don't let anyone change that." He whispered.

People began to arrive around 10pm. Ollie's apartment filled up rather quickly and Y/N was already on her third drink of the night. She was stood talking to a few of her friends from one of her textile classes until her eyes caught sight of the curly-headed boy she had been waiting for.

She smiled, excusing herself from the conversation and shifting through the crowd to get to him. "Harry hey," She beamed but then immediately felt her happiness slip from her.

"Hey Y/N," His eyes were wide at the sight of her, he was so used to seeing her in her natural form.

Y/N didn't reply as her focus was fixated on the girl talking to some other people. The girl he had bought with her. The girl in the photo. "Are you okay?" Harry asked when she didn't say anything.

"I'm fine." She forced a smile on her face.

"We're not staying long. I just thought I'd stop by to see Ollie." Her heart deflated at the use of 'we', they were a 'we' now.

"Right, I'm sure he'll appreciate it." She nodded, reaching for another drink.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He checked with her.

"I'm fine. I just need to use the bathroom." Y/N pushed past him and made her way to Ollie's bathroom which was surprisingly empty.

"Are you okay?" Someone asked her from behind as she was about to step into the bathroom.

She turned around and came face to face with the girl from the photo. She looked even more beautiful up close if that were even possible.

"I'm fine." Y/N muttered, it seemed as though that was the only response she was giving anyone nowadays.

"Harry sent me to come and see if you were okay." She said, even her voice was soft and gentle, "He was worried about you."

Y/N scoffed, "What he couldn't come find me himself?"

"He was trying to find Ollie I think-" The girl sighed, "If you're okay, I'll go back and tell him."

"Before you go...Can I ask you something?" Y/N could hear the voice in her head screaming at her not to say anything but she had to know, she needed to know.

"Go ahead." The girl seemed irritated by Y/N, like she was wasting her time.

"Do you know who I am?" Y/N could feel her eyes burn as she asked the question.

The girl from the photo frowned, confused by her question, "What?"

"Do you know who I am?" Y/N repeated but this time more sternly.

The girl from the photo looked at her, really looked at her, narrowing her eyes as if to get a better look. "I have no idea."

Y/N's insides felt as though they were bleeding. It was almost like Harry was the only one who was keeping her stitched together but now everything inside of her had come loose from that one reply.

The girl from the photo hesitated before saying, "I'll go and tell my boyfriend you're okay."

Y/N looked at her as she walked away, completely crushed. She walked into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her, falling onto her knees and sobbing into her hands.

She hadn't realised how much power he had over her until this moment. How much she relied on him and how she couldn't picture her life without him. She trusted him too easily and that was nobody's fault but her own.

Her breathing began to pick up and she felt a strange sensation like pins and needles trickle along her skin. She pulled off her trousers and her corset until she was in nothing but her bra and underwear. She crawled into the bathtub and turned on the shower so cold water could reach her skin, all whilst hyperventilating and crying her eyes out.

This was unlike any pain she had ever felt. She wasn't sure why it had hurt so much but maybe it was because another person had used her, maybe this time it was because she gave every inch of herself to him and she had nothing but skin and bones left.

"Y/N are you in there?" His voice was muffled from behind the door.

"G-Go away." She whispered, rocking backward and forwards with her head tucked into her knees and cold water wetting her skin.

"I'm worried about you, love." His voice sounded so sad.

"Go away." She carried on chanting like this was a nightmare she wanted to wake up from.

She felt soft hands touching her shoulders and immediately looked up into green, sad eyes. For once Harry was easy to read as his eyes showed nothing but remorse.

He reached past her and turned the shower off, she was shivering and he reached for a towel to wrap around her shoulders in hopes it would provide some warmth.

They said nothing, Y/N didn't get out of the bath as it helped in providing a separation between them. "Why don't you love me like I love you?" She whispered. Her eyes looking into his, they were red and her face was stained with tears.

There was no point in denying things anymore, he was one of the only people who knew she was too clever for that, "I don't know," His head fell forward, he felt defeated.

"Why did you put me here?" She cried, "Why did you put me here if you were just going to leave me?"

"I-I thought you understood what this was. I thought-" He lied.

Harry knew Y/N better than anyone in her life. He knew better than to hurt her like this.

"Why does everyone leave me?" She whimpered, "Why can't I be loved?"

"Y/N-"

"Please tell me you love me. Please, please, please," She was begging him, crying into his shoulder.

"I-I can't Y/N." Never had her name sounded so disgusting coming from his lips.

"I don't know what to do anymore Harry. I-I would rather die than be alone," She sobbed.

"Y/N you're never alone."

"You're ending this." She cried, "I'm alone."

He couldn't stand having this conversation and not being able to hold her. He stepped into the bathtub fully clothed and sat in front of her, reaching for her hand and holding it gently in his. The feeling of his skin seemed to ease some of the pain she had been feeling, but the loneliness still echoed throughout her.

"I don't know why I can't love you, Y/N, but it doesn't mean I don't feel anything about you. You have become my best friend—"

"I don't want to be your best friend. No, no," she shook her head. "You've killed me once by admitting you don't love me. Please don't send me to Hell by calling me your friend. Do you know how painful that is? I just want to be loved by you. Is that too much to ask? I have given everything, I have given everything to you. I rooted for you in every way possible. I have killed myself trying to get you to love me, and I don't think I even know who I am anymore because of it."

Harry didn't know what to say. He was selfish and a coward and undeserving of her love, and he wished she could see that.

"Y/N—"

"Please just leave."

His eyes watered at the thought of going about his life without her. He could feel the air around them grow thick, his chest rising and falling as he tried to breathe in. He felt like he was drowning at the thought of her leaving his life. Despite not loving her in the way she desired, he realized he would also be alone without her.

Maybe that was it.

All along, they had just been two people dealing with loneliness and coping with it differently. One used the other to fill the gaps in the spaces where they felt most alone, and the other fell hopelessly in love in hopes it would change them. That was the true nature of it, and even if they were meant to be together at some point, now was not the time.

"Listen to me," Harry whispered, collecting her hands and holding them to his chest. "I'm going to leave."

She choked on a sob.

"I don't want to do that." She shook her head. "I just want to be with you." The thought of the loneliness seeped into her pores, and she didn't think it would be possible for her to stay afloat as she drowned in it.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he said softly, tears streaming down his face. "I'm so sorry. I don't want to hurt you. I-I don't know what I'm doing."

She was taken aback by his tears and was unsure of what to do. It was the first time she had seen him cry, the first time she realized he was equally as afraid as she was. She leaned forward and wrapped him in a hug, allowing him to cry into her shoulder.

This was the end.

"I love you, Harry. I really do," she whispered into his ear.

He couldn't reply, so he just sobbed even harder.

--

The days hadn't changed so much when Harry stepped out of Y/N's life.

They didn't talk much during the day when they were friends so Y/N went about carrying on her classes and speaking to Ollie who she appreciated more than ever as he comforted her when she was feeling at her worst. It was Ollie who made the days feel... a little less lonely.

She missed his touches and texting him on her phone but she tried to come up with ways to cope with that by watching youtube videos or drawing so she wasn't tempted to unblock him and forgive him again.

The nights were the hardest. Y/N hadn't realised that the only reason she'd been sleeping was because of Harry. She had tried to not take sleeping pills to help her get to sleep but sometimes she'd spend the entire night just painting in hopes it would made her tired.

Since they had some of the same friends now, Y/N knew of Harry's ventures through word of mouth. He had broke things off with the girl from the photo the day after Ollie's birthday party. Turns out they weren't really in an established relationship and the girl did know who Y/N was because Harry never stopped talking about Y/N when they were together.

That made her smile.

He was an assistant to a wedding photographer on the weekends so that he could save up some money for his own studio. She was happy to hear he was actually making the most of his talent instead of wasting it like she had considered doing multiple times.

Other than that, the days went by rather slowly and nothing out of the ordinary happened. She had been on dates here and there and was in her first real relationship in her third year of University but that only lasted a few months. Turns out he was cheating on her the entire time they were together which felt like one step forwards and two steps back.

Y/N moved into an apartment in central London after she graduated and did some freelancing as an illustrator whilst working weekends at a hotel and the evenings at a bar in Soho.

Her life was mundane but she was okay with that. She had spent so much time focusing on others that she forgot to focus on herself. She had started going to therapy, the gym, and even became vegetarian for a little while. She was no longer taking Xanax as often as she used to and spent less time thinking about Harry.

She wondered what he was up to from time to time but in the end, she just hoped he wasn't alone.

[tomoyoo]

i think manga readers who have a twisted view of Kabru do so because they don’t understand his relationship with Milsiril, like calling her abusive, putting her at the same level as real life racists and shit… it’s obviously not what the story's going for ugh. She has her good and bad sides but ultimately loves Kabru and took care of him as her own child, teaching him various skills, comforting him when he felt insecure, forcing herself to interact with people to make him happy lol

So if one believes that Kabru hates his adoptive mom and that she truly doesn’t think of him as more than a pet 😑 then of course they’re gonna see Kabru and Mithrun in a bad light too, with amazing takes such as “kabru is taking revenge by babying him milsiril style” or “kabru shouldn’t be forced to babysit a white man” i think those are completely off (wtf)

The whole point of their journey together is to find that being yourself is enough! Kabru helps Mithrun find new desires and Mithrun helps Kabru become a more genuine self. Mithrun’s disinterest in him actually relaxes him ! It’s the complete opposite to Milsiril's overbearing behavior.

I also thing there’s something to be said about Milsiril and Kabru meeting Mithrun halfway but the child being the one to succeed at truly connecting with him, breaking the cycles etc.

That’s the point of their comparison; the cake room is a fantasy, Kabru doesn’t want/need all those attentions. Mithrun's the real deal and brings him closer to his goal. He’s unfiltered and honest and that allows Kabru to be comfortable and open, I think it’s a healing relationship. So far Kabru had been cunning and thorough, but this stems from a desire to not let disaster happen again. His dedication to taking care of somebody else highlights that it’s all part of Kabru's kindness ❤️ it’s so funny and cute how he was sheltered but does his absolute best to tend Mithrun in ways he doesn’t bother to do for himself.

Also nobody talks about how this is what leads to Kabru's big confession. Kabru has no problem with sharing his painful past and using it to make a point, so he awkwardly tries it on Laios after his other methods fail. In the end he has to be honest and admit he just wanted to be friends lol. He gets angry upon hearing an uncomfortable truth about himself jsjsjs

I think this is partially why Mithrun starts slapping Kabru during his existential crisis 😭 because that’s exactly the way he feels but um time and place !!

peace and love 🫶

[georgiapeach30513]

With Your Touch, Part 5

Summary: Some things just weren’t meant to be ignored.

Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  Language, voyeurism, masturbation (M&F), pillow grinding, The Verb, non con moment, implied fighting, tension, mentions of childhood trauma, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5.4K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

You were getting to Lloyd. He should have noticed it sooner, but he was too worried about his daughter, and then it was you that was occupying his thoughts. The forbidden fruit. Lloyd loves the succulent taste of something he’s not supposed to have, therefore you became an obsession. An obsession that he began to care about. An obsession he desired more than anything.

You entwined your kind and damaged self into his very being, and he needs to keep you for himself. Protect you from the world that so desperately wants to destroy women like you. Women who have it all, and are still overlooked. You were even going right down the path that they all did. A prick of a boyfriend that you didn’t love, didn’t want, but you just made it work because he ticks off imaginary boxes.

You were too pure for the men in your world. They’d have you beaten into submission, and be their perfect little housewife, while you became a woman like your mother. Did whatever your husband said because he paid the bills. You would make exceptions to your happiness because he gave you a life of luxury. He could go off and spend all his time with whores and secretaries while you sat at home becoming bitter.

He hated The Verb with every part of him, your dad was just barely below The Verb. The only reason he tolerates your father now is because he’s the reason you were searching for the love of a man. And because of your mother you accept subpar men like The Verb, and make excuses of it being love. It wasn’t.

Love is the way you lift Lyla up in the air above your head, while she giggles down at you. Love is pulling her closer to your face so you can kiss all over her cheeks. Love is sitting on a blanket in the park with the stupid expensive pram so Lyla can get outside. Love is enjoying the time that you get to have with her. Love is the confusing feelings you feel for him.

Because no matter what you say, he sees the feelings you have for him. You even got off with his name on your lips, and it was beautiful. He wants to hear it again. Hear it whisper across his skin, while your walls both literally and figuratively crash down. Becoming so soft after you orgasm over his cock that you are pliant, and just need him to hold you. His obsession runs deep, but at least it is pure intentions.

“Was watching her through your phone not enough?” Ari asks, as he sits down on the bench beside his friend. He looks in Lloyd’s direction as you lay Lyla on the ground, praising her when she flips over and gets into a crawling position. “I didn’t take you as a sap.”

“Me neither,” Lloyd barely responds, but smiles right along with you. “Why are you here?”

“Why are you?” Ari looks more at his friend before he looks back at the two of you. “She’s a natural,” every time that he has seen you with Lyla you didn’t look like her au pair at all, you looked like her mother. Even now, she seems like your baby.

“Yeah, she’s raising her daughter the way she wanted to be raised,” Ari opens his mouth, but closes it immediately. His eyes drift around the park, trying to make sense of whatever is going through his partner's head. “I didn’t want this. Either of them. I was supposed to continue to slut around with whoever I wanted, and go to work. That was my life. So you tell me why either of them came into my life, and I’m not supposed to do anything about it?”

“You should know that life gives us curveballs, and we have to figure it out along the way. Like Lyla. You brought Roman’s daughter into your life. And now you’ve got another problem.”

“A fucking hair in my eyeball that is festering and is named after a damn verb. That boy,” Lloyd releases a growl low in the pit of his stomach as he thinks about the vile things that boy said to you. And that is just what he has heard. He’s sure that Chase has said messed up psycho babble to you, that you never asked for. The way he looked down at you, and was already putting you in your place makes him sick. “Fuck.”

“Is that what you’re wanting to do with your sweet little au pair? Fuck her?”

“Yes. Dream about it every night while I fuck my fist,” Ari rolls his eyes, pretending he didn’t hear any of that. Last thing he wanted to think about was Lloyd fucking someone’s daughter. “But it’s more than that.”

“You want her to take care of your daughter.”

“I want to protect them both. And I enjoy the moments that don’t have this intense sexual tension. I enjoy her. And what she wants, and I just get her,” he did. Chase doesn’t know what he has, but Lloyd does. You would see. “I’m tired of this conversation. They’re both mine. And I don’t share.”

“You’re talking about a woman that actually isn’t yours.”

“She will be, Ari. I can promise you that. Let’s go. I’ve gotta get home early,” he gives the two of you a final look. Wishing he could linger, and watch you all day. See how patient you are with Lyla even if she cries. See how you adored her so much you couldn’t stop kissing her, and smiling at her. He is tired of avoiding you. And he isn’t going to avoid you anymore. Sexual tension be damned.

“And you go in your seat,” Lyla pulls her feet up in a silent protest to not sit in her high chair. She’d been doing this all day. “You are so needy for attention today, but you need to sit in your chair,” furrowing her brows, she looks at you with her bottom lip puckered out. “No, don’t give me that face.”

Opening her mouth to babble incoherent words in a sassy tone. “Are you really going to sass me after I made dinner, and made you your special food,” she keeps her legs tightly pulled up, and you look at your plate and her plate both getting cold. Maybe you were giving in to her too much, but she is a baby.

“Okay, okay. You’ll just sit in my lap, and we’ll wait for daddy. Say dada,” she giggles, shaking her head no. Her chubby little fingers reach for something to gnaw on for a moment, and you sneak a bite of your own. “Your daddy is scared of me. Yes, he is.”

Since that night, Lloyd had avoided you. Claiming he was working late, but you knew better. He checked in less, too. Having cameras gave him the ability to not check in, you suppose. Before he didn’t care. He’d call or send a text, now he does nothing. You figured he just didn’t want to see your face. “I think things got too heavy with us. He’s a bit strong, you know. But he’s pretty cute,” you giggle, making sure to kiss her cheek again.

“He’s very cute. And he has these arms, and his legs, and his lips. I think I like his hands the most. They’re so thick — and soft,” you close your eyes a moment, drifting off into a fantasy of being draped over his legs. “But it’s a bit too complicated,” sighing because you know that you’re not going to go that route. It was too complicated already. It was best if the two of you just kept going the pace you were going.

“But you know you’re daddy’s cute.”

“I am?” Your smile fades as the very man you were talking about waltzes into the dining area with a cocky grin. Lyla’s legs kick around, and she makes the sweetest grabby hands towards him. “Can daddy make him a plate? He sure is hungry,” her giggles turn into shrill screams, and her legs and arm flail. “Lyla Bee! You quit that, girlie.”

“I’ll make you a plate, Lloyd. Here, take Lyla biddy boo Bee,” the sound of your silly voice to her as you walk to her daddy who is already sitting at the table makes her squeal laugh. Her eyes closing with how much she’s smiling, and when he pulls her from your arms, she buries into his warmth. “She’s been a bit needy for attention lately, but tell daddy, it’s okay, huh?”

Leaning over, you grin, rubbing your nose on her, but Lloyd is encapsulated by the scent of your hair. Rolling his eyes in the back of his head at how sweet and sinful this moment all is. It’s almost normal. Almost the family that neither of you had. “Now, you behave,” you whisper.

As you stand up straight, you catch Lloyd wafting your scent with his softly closed, and it makes you smile to yourself. “I’ll be back, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” he didn’t even realize what you had said. Him being silly with a crush makes you happy.

“I was talking to the baby,” you remind him. A brief moment flashes between the two of you, and you want to stay. Want to will his hand to reach out and grab your own. You see the flinches of his fingers like he wants to, and then you snap out of it. This shouldn’t happen. He is your employer and things will get difficult, and you didn’t want them to. Lyla needs you.

Going into the kitchen, you plate up his dinner while you think. What the fuck are you doing? This is getting too intense, but the feeling of being so close to both of them made you warm and tingly in a different way than being alone with him. Plus you had to deal with your asshole of a boyfriend.

You knew Chase was no good, but what other choice did you have? Even though you didn’t see him daily, being with him made you stay away from Lloyd, and just fantasize about him. How much damn porn have you watched about the babysitter and the dad. Fuck, how many dreams did you have of Lloyd telling you that you would take his cock.

Why did you have to make this difficult? Why could you just forget about Lloyd and his fucking arms? And the need to see what he looked like with no shirt on. You bet he sleeps in boxers. Maybe completely nude. Shaking your head you back into the dining area and freeze. Why is him being with his little tiny daughter hotter?

Holding up one of her hands he slowly counts each of her fingers, moving onto the next one until getting to ten. Lloyd then reaches for a foot, pulling the socks off and she screams in laughter, “Oh, honey, are your toes ticklish?”

“You should see her when you have to clean in between them.”

“I bet you kick and giggle the whole time, huh? Do you not want to sit in your chair?”

“No, her doesn’t,” picking up her spoon, you give her a little bite of her food. Making sure that you remain close enough for Lloyd to smell you again. You did smell nice today. “Her gets all stressed out when you mess with her toes, huh, sweet girl.”

The touch is so quick, but you feel his hand on your thigh. You don’t even react, but he flinches away the second his finger touches your leg. You wish he’d keep going higher. Higher. Higher. Until he breaches your drenched hole. That’s how he made you. Soaked.

“You didn’t work late today,” you note, walking back to your chair. You take another bite while you smile at him. “How is it going?”

His Adam’s apple bobs, swallowing nothing while he nods his head, “It’s fine. Perfect. You haven’t requested any days off?”

“There’s really nowhere for me to go. I’ll go eat at the bar, and you and Lyla can bond before bedtime,” sitting at dinner with him and Lyla seems a bit too familial, and it suffocates you. You like it too much, and you need to step away.

“No,” Lloyd answers firmly. This time his swallow was of food. “No, I think you need some company. You’re around a baby that can’t talk all day. Unless you’re needing to make a phone call of course,” he had read being a stay at home mom was difficult, and to always engage in conversation when you came home. That way she didn’t get overwhelmed and feel isolated.

“I don’t,” and you didn’t want to leave him anyways. You just felt he wanted you away for whatever reason. The two of you settle in a comforting silence. Like Lloyd needed time to ground himself after whatever he did at work today. That the conversation flowing between the two of you was just as much for him as you. He seems to be seeking something more comfortable and sweet.

Stolen glances happen throughout the meal, but you’ll blame it on wanting to watch him be sweet with his daughter. While that is a bonus, the reality is you just want to look at him. Trying to keep it PG and not envision him hovering over your body with sweat glistening around his hair. Smiling as you go into a beautiful state of euphoria, and he tells you that you have to give him just one more time as tears drift down your face.

Fuck. You’re as big of a mess as your panties, and all you want is to curl into him, and let him take you down from a high of the most beautiful highs. God, you want to feel his arms wrap around you so bad. Looks like another night with your toys.

You aren’t sure why, but there is definitely a shift in the air tonight between you and Lloyd. And you sure are a glutton for punishment as you walk down to his room, but you want to just talk. You and him. There is one hundred percent no ulterior motive as you take each calculated step down the hall in your kinda sexy sleeper set. Maybe your ass is hanging out of the booty shorts, but who cares.

Tiptoeing down to his room, you lift your hand to knock, and then you hear a sound that almost knocks you to your knees. Your name. But not just your name, panting. Deep breaths. He is talking to an imaginary version of yourself. Not just talking, he was fucking the imaginary you, and you are right here!

He’s a vocal lover, and it causes you to drip. Weak from the way he was imagining fucking you. You knew there was a shift, but you couldn’t fathom Lloyd whimpering your name. Not Dolly, but your name. You couldn’t have prepared yourself to hear his grunts, and his coaching you through orgasms. You want to really orgasm. You don’t want that fake you to have all the fun. You’re throbbing all over, and ready to just break down the door, and jump on his cock.

This isn’t fair! It’s cruel torture. You find yourself nearly humping the air, and ready to beg for Lloyd to fuck you like that. Why can’t you have him? Oh, that’s right, a dumbass boyfriend. Breakup. No. Breaking up entails too many temptations now that you have heard — you stop walking, listening so intently as he squeaks out your name.

“Oh fuuuuck,” he sounds delicious as he comes undone. You want him to come in you. No. On you. No. What did you want? Him. His dick. His baby. More of his babies. Fuck. You’re fucked. This was fucked up. You haven’t kissed him and you want his babies? This was only a weird kink because you see how he fathers, and your mind and your desire to have a family is altering your usual steady mind.

Now you need to angrily get off. Fuck him. If he wants to fuck an imaginary you, you’ll fuck an imaginary him. It is only fair. You stomp back to your room. Yanking off your stupid sleep set. You’re quaking. Slamming a pillow down on the bed, you straddle it. It isn’t your finest hour, but you grind over the satin. Tweaking your nipples, and imagine his hands on your hips, guiding you to go faster, and you do. You just need to get off. You don’t want sweet, you want angry.

Fucking the frustration and confusion right onto the pillow so hard you actually feel him. His hands coast down your sides, and tighten on your hips. His mouth caresses the sensitive column of your neck, giving it a tiny little nibble, “I knew you’d be frustrated. Show me how angry you are.”

With your chest heaving as you bare down harder. You want to make Lloyd proud at how good you can ride his dick. “There’s a good girl. Let it all out,” his hands come around you as he fondles your chest. God he feels good.

“Lloyd, I’m coming.”

“Lloyd?” The grip on your tits turn harsh, and you stop moving, looking over your shoulder. Fuck. “You want to tell me why my whore of a girlfriend is fucking the boss? I knew it, you goddamn slut. He’s just using you to fulfill the babysitter fantasy.”

“W-w-why are you in here?” You can’t think properly as Chase’s cold blue eyes stare into you with so much anger. Hatred. You’ve never seen him look at you like this, but you have felt his wrath. You grab onto his hands, trying to pry them off your chest with no luck.

“I was going to make sweet love to my girlfriend, and I saw you naked and fucking a damn pillow, and wanted to have fun. This whole fucking time you were pretending it was Lloyd?” You shake your head aggressively trying to push his hands off you. He is too loud. “You want something to fuck, I’ll give you something.”

“No, Chase, don’t. He’ll hear. Stop, please, don’t,” your voice whispers through your tears as he pushes you forward. All the way down until your face is squished up against the blanket. Running his fingers through your folds. “Chase, don’t he’ll kill you. Please, stop.”

“This is how wet you get? You’re a fucking slut for the boss, huh?” You feel his blunt head at your entrance, and you clench your eyes closed. You could scream, and Lloyd will hear you, but so could Lyla. Chase would surely be killed. Or you can just sit like this, and take it until he is finished.

“Now, be a slut for me. It’s all I ask,” you gulp as he pushes through your walls. Fist clinging to the bed. “There’s a good girl. Since you’re dreaming about him, call me daddy.”

“No,” sick fuck. You didn’t want him on you. You didn’t want him touching you. You didn’t want to give that name to him. You aren’t even sure how you feel about that naturally coming out with Lloyd.

“Go on, you slut, call me your daddy. Tell daddy to fuck you like the bad girl you are. Let me ruin this little cunt.”

“No!” You didn’t care. He just drives harder into you. “No! Get off!” You hate him. It’s over. You didn’t care what Lloyd did to him or his body. He is the asshole. “Stop!” You can’t even pretend that he’s Lloyd. It’s all wrong. So very wrong. Lloyd would be hard, but tender. Demanding, but giving. This is just wrong. Shutting down everything that is happening in the present. Get out of reality, and go into your fake world where everything is perfect. Don’t let Chase have this.

And then he’s all pulled out of you. “She said stop, you fucking piece of shit!” Your mind shifts into an altered state as you try to take yourself out of this situation. Memories of someone else in your house. Your mom, screaming. The sound of fists hitting bone, and the sickening sound of blood. Your dad, screaming to get back in your room.

So many memories of your dad you blacked out, and that’s where you wanted them. Buried deep in the depths of your brain, and to never be seen or thought of again. They are cruel men with a deadly job. They protect their own, but invite evil into their homes. Close your eyes, and pretend that nothing is happening. Because nothing is happening.

Sing so you can ignore whatever is happening behind you. Remember your day with Lyla and how pure it was. How she smiled up at you like you had hung the moon. Lyla couldn’t remember the neglect her mom issued her, and you would make sure she didn’t know what being without a mother’s love was like. Lyla is what keeps you sane while hell is trying to suck you back to reality.

“Hey, sweetheart. Shh,” he covers your back with a blanket, but you keep your eyes closed. “Can I carry you out of here?” You nod your head quickly, and feel his thick arms pick you up bridal style. Keeping your body close to his warmth as he carries you out of your room, and you finally open your eyes.

You see the marred knuckles clinging to your body, and deadpan, “You need to wash your hands.”

“I need to make sure you’re not hurt. Did he hurt you?” Even though he’s trying to be soft, you see the edge of darkness cover his eyes. You don’t know if he killed Chase or he was badly misshapen. You didn’t care. You couldn’t care anymore.

“No, he didn’t.”

“What happened?” There are two options here; lie through your teeth and tell him a bent story or tell him the absolute truth.

“He saw me, and I was…I was — and I said your name, while he was behind me, and I didn’t know. And then…then…th-th-then he wanted me to call him — to call him daddy,” you hiccup as he carries you into the living room, and sits you on the couch softly.

You sniffle, trying to calm your sobs as you look at his hands again. They are hideous. They’ll be badly bruised and swollen come tomorrow, “Your hands. Go wash them.”

“No.”

“I don’t…I don’t like the look of blood,” he gives you a nod, and stands up to wash his hands. He wears boxers in his sleep. You wish you were in a place you could enjoy the sight of him in just boxers, but you’re just numb. So numb that even Lloyd almost naked does nothing for you.

“Ari, I need a clean up, and a new apartment,” what an odd thing to say. “I don’t want it in this building at all. Don’t ask questions. This is immediate,” walking back into the living room, he stares at you. You’re in a state of shock, and your eyes are glassed over into nothing.

“Can I get you some clothes?” What? You look down your body, and pull your blanket tighter around you, then nod your head, and he’s gone again. It all went wrong because you wanted to hear the night life. How could you be so stupid to think you could just live your life carelessly, and Chase wasn’t going to ruin it.

Returning, Lloyd sits on the table in front of you, and starts to dress you. There’s nothing demanding or harsh about his movements. It’s caring. Loving. Nurturing. Instead of trying to black everything out, you watch him. You’re completely nude in front of him but he’s not fucking you with his eyes. He’s making sure you’re alright. Tenderly pulling over your top, and then sliding up some shorts on your legs.

“I’m sorry,” your voice is so meek, and you hate it.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“This isn’t your job.”

“The hell it isn’t. This isn’t your job. My job is to protect you, and I failed. How long had he been here?” You shrug, because you aren’t sure when the lines of your imagination and reality blurred. Didn’t know when Lloyd’s hands morphed into Chase’s. “I’m going to get us another apartment. You’re also going to have a security detail, and this isn’t for discussion.”

You just nod your head, not in the mood for arguing. You’re just cold. And then a cry. “Lyla,” you jump up without hesitation, practically sprinting to her room, and she sits up in the bed, crying and pouting for you. “Hey, baby. Did you miss me or do you need a diaper change? You’ve been sleeping through the night almost every night. C’mere.”

She isn’t wet, so you just hold her tight to your chest, and her cries start to soften. “You need someone to hold you, too, huh? Shh, I’m right here, baby,” you rock her in your arms, and turn to see Lloyd standing in the doorway.

He’s like a dream, nearly naked and shadowed in her doorway. It hurts to look at him sometimes. Always being something you shouldn’t desire. “She just wanted to be held.”

“You said, too,” he’s being odd this evening. You don’t understand what he means until he walks right up to you, lifting you up again. Carrying you and Lyla over to her rocker, he sits down, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “If you want to be held just ask.”

“Okay,” he holds you like you’ve never been held before. How can something feel so secure and soft at the same time? He is adding just the right amount of pressure on your body, and you start to relax in his arms, and Lyla is right with you. Yawning so big as her eyes get heavier. “Am I stupid?”

“No.”

“Do you know what I was doing when he came into my room?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I was — you know on a pillow, and I said your name, and it pissed him off,” you don’t have to see Lloyd’s face to know he’s smiling. Of course he would smile when it came to you ultimately choosing Lloyd over Chase, “I heard you tonight,” he hums, but still doesn’t say anything. “In your fantasy how was I positioned?”

“On your back. Your legs wrapped tight against me, a pillow under your lower back to get this amazing angle, and you're pulling me so deep into your warmth, and I can’t get enough of watching you come over my cock,” it’s your turn to hum as you look down at the baby. She is so cozy, but asleep, and giving you nothing but her sweet face to distract you. This is far from an appropriate conversation with her present.

“How deep are you?”

Lloyd takes a deep breath. Kissing on top of your head, “Sweetheart, I’m so deep that you can fill me in your throat.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?” Silence falls over the room, and it becomes too apparent what is going on in your room. You heard Lloyd call someone, and they are doing what he asked, cleaning up whatever mess was made. You lift up off his shoulder, and stare at him. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

“I don’t think this is the right time now.”

“Are you scared?”

“I’m terrified,” you gulp, averting your eyes back down to the baby. How could a man like Lloyd be terrified? And why? “And she’s only part of the reason I’m scared.”

“So where do we go from here?”

“I said I didn’t think this is the right time for me to show you I’m not lying, considering the things that have transpired this evening. But whenever you’re ready for me to show you exactly how deep I can go inside your body, but also — inside your heart, I’ll only be a few doors away. But I don’t want to just fuck you like an animal. I want to hold you and…my daughter at night, just like this. You need to be held just as much as she does, so let me. But for tonight, instead of showing you just how right you would fit me inside you, let me tear down the walls you’ve built up, and show you there are good men out there. Men that stand on the things that they say. Let me just hold you, so you can finally relax for the first time in years because you don’t have to worry about that prick ever coming into your life and hurting you ever again.”

Your vision becomes blurry as tears fill your eyes, and you let them fall down your cheeks one by one. It’s freeing to know that Chase can’t ever try and pick apart your brain and memories that you have no desire to explore. Lloyd isn’t just taking your walls down, he’s obliterating them. You didn’t even realize the amount of walls you put up for your own self preservation. “I hate them.”

“Me, too. I hate anyone that has ever hurt you or made you feel you aren’t worth it. Because you are.”

“You don’t know me.”

”I know more about you than you could ever understand,” the cameras. All those times you felt like you were being watched. It all makes sense. “Yes, there’s some in your room. And yes, you knew and pointed yourself right at them.”

“Did not.”

“Want to see the footage?” You snort, shaking your head no. At least you didn’t have to end the night on something as severe as whatever Lloyd did to Chase. “Little minx. I’ve got videos, too. Yeah, I thought maybe it was a coincidence, until you flashed the camera and smiled. You’re smarter than people give you credit for.”

“I was just taking a guess,” Lloyd does not believe a word you say. “I did. It was just a guess. Why did you have cameras in my bedroom? Are they in my bathroom, too?”

“No, I don’t get off on that.”

“You just get off on me in my room?”

Lloyd rolls his eyes with a smile. Is that what you think this is? He’s trying to figure out how to say it without being too forward, and there isn’t another way, “Were you just in your room when you had your legs spread pointing to the camera, shoving your fingers in that tight little cunt, and whimpering my name? Were you just in your room when you’d prance out of the bathroom completely naked, and do a little shimmy right in the camera? Were you just in your room every time that you were fucking that pillow and saying Daddy fuck me harder.”

Oh my god. “Should I go on?”

“No! There is a baby in my arms.”

“Fine, admit you want me to fuck you, and you want to call me daddy,” you didn’t have to admit shit. You do like when his cocky little self comes out though. “Go on, say it.”

He wants you to say it? Then he’s getting the full on works, “I want you to fuck me so deep and hard, daddy. I want you to come in my pretty little pussy, and then I want you to fuck it deeper with your fingers,” Lloyd bites on his lip, and looks up at the ceiling. Good. He wants to try and torture you, he’s getting it right back. “But not tonight.”

“No, not tonight. You’ve been through enough,” you really have. And you just want to feel the warmth coming off his body. “I want you to pick out which room is Lyla’s in the new apartment. She…” it’s too soon. Lloyd can’t ask much more of you. You’re vulnerable at the moment, and he’s taken advantage enough, “She already looks at you like her mom,” fuck fuck fuck.

“Is it weird to say I look at her like mine, too?” He sighs, and shakes his head no. He hopes you really let this conversation sink in before you come crawling into his bed. Because he will fuck you, and he will only hold back if you ask him. If your body shows him, he’ll stop. He wants you more than anything he has ever wanted before and it terrifies him. Because now he has two things he’s willing to kill for, but worse, willing to die for.

Terrifying.

Next

Masterlist

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[serevena]

please, please, please!

Dealer!ellie williams x fem!reader

a.n - this is inspired by please please please by Sabrina carpenter!! All of my fics have been written after a song at some point in time so here's this! My writing is dusty, im well aware..this is my comeback..happy pride month, babies!

warnings - provocative language, allusions to sex, mentions of jail, light touching, toxic!ellie (?), not proofread!

I beg you, don't embarrass me motherfucker.

"Who are you to the inmate?"

Her partner. In crime, you guessed?

Ellie got busted. Again. And as you leaned against the car after chatting with the officer, you heard the gate open and saw a familiar and somewhat annoying smile. It made you feel an aray of emotion, none nice. Maybe. Did you enjoy picking your girlfriend up from jail for the fifth time? That was a question left to be unanswered as you rolled your eyes and got off of the car, hopping into the driver's seat.

It was like a never-ending cycle to the point where no words had to be said, she knew the routine, as did you.

You sighed as the words of every mouth around you spoke that you didn't have good taste, good judgment, that you were wasting your time.

You hoped she didn't prove them right.

Ellie sat in the passenger seat, turning her head to you as she tossed her bag to the back. You put your finger on your temple and turned to her, unamused. She only had a light smile on her face.

"I'm sorry."

Oh. You were relatively appreciative but didn't show it. You were still mad at her and didn't wanna let her in like that too soon.

You stepped on the gas, trying not to think about what everyone else had to say. Maybe you should just say say things didn't work out. That way you wouldn't be scolded any longer. It'd be easier.

But, there was one thing you barely liked to admit to yourself,

You loved Ellie.

You didn't want to sometimes, but you can't help the way you feel. She frustrated you, but you found yourself there. In that same parking lot, on that same car. Every. Single. Time.

"It won't happen again." She went on, the slight thought popping up in her head that if she did get caught again, you'd be there. She knew that. But she pushed it down, glancing over to you and as for yourself, her words went through one ear, and out the other.

You felt her cold fingertips trace your skin, spelling out ‘S O R R Y’ as you stared at the ceiling fan. It was so nice. Maybe instead of going out and getting involved in the very thing that landed her behind that cell, she could just stare at it. Anything to get her to stay free.

You turned to her, her hand now on your hip as her thumb rubbed it, and you only gave her a small smirk. “Don’t make me hate you.” You muttered as her hand dipped slightly slower.

“I’ll try.”

“Ellie.” You said as you quickly tried to catch up to her. “Ellie!”

“I’ll be quick, promise.” She muttered, giving you a reassuring look before squeezing your hand before going into a room near the toilets of the bar. You stood there like an idiot, crossing your arms and remembering to straighten your posture. “Fuck.” You muttered under your breath.

And then you heard a shatter! Mixed with a few groans. “Fuck!” You yelled out, rushing into the room to see Ellie getting into a full on brawl with some of the people there. She quickly catches your eye and gestures towards the exit. This was a common occurrence, but this was a new bar, a new room with new people. What the hell were you expecting?

You both quickly run out as you start the car and begin backing up, seeing some of the people through the windows. You floored it out of there, gripping the steering wheel so hard like you’d done plenty of times before. You were sure there were imprints on it now. Ellie stood quiet, knowing you didn’t wanna hear it, she only winced sometimes as she touched her eye, which you could see was already forming a bruise. You rolled your eyes and drove to a different location that sure as hell wasn’t your house.

Ellie was somewhat alarmed. The thought that you might throw her out or kill her crossed her mind, but what the fuck? She knew you better than that. You would never, so she brushed that off too.

You drove up to a cliff, also known as the place Ellie and you had your first date. You got out of the car, practically slamming the door as you sat on the hood of your car, your legs dangling as your car lights flickered ever so slightly. Your eyes were glued to the moon.

And even though Ellie was in pain, she couldn’t deny that view. She couldn’t deny you.

You felt the car shake, the door close, and you heard her footsteps rub against the soil sole of her boot. You felt her hand find it’s way to your thigh as she looked at you.

“That..wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”

Your gaze continued to be fixated on the moon, but you had to look at her eventually, so you did.

“It shouldn’t have happened at all, Ellie.” You scolded, and her touch only became more gentle on your thigh.

“It won’t again. I love you.” She spoke.

You rolled your eyes, knowing it would.

You smiled and when you did, so did she. You leaned into her, cupping her cheeks as you softly kissed her.

I beg you..

“Don’t embarrass me, motherfucker.”

[sophrosynesworld]

With all my love, pt. 3

Part 3 is finally here and *gasp* lore?!

Do you know how hard it is to escape your top 5 pro-hero ex-boyfriend? His voice plays on my radio during my commute. His image is plastered across the news in the lobby this morning before lunch—he’s acting irrationally again. He’s always been too much of a hothead.

His recent heroic deeds have garnered both admiration and scrutiny. My departure seems to have affected him, causing some of his harsher traits to resurface. I never anticipated that he would notice, let alone react like this.

"I don't care if he's a jerk. Dynamite is one of the best heroes of this generation," I overhear one of the news anchors saying. The radio in the small restaurant makes it hard to miss.

"Dynamite is one bad decision away from killing someone," the woman says, clearly frustrated with her cohost. "I don't even know if it would be on accident."

"He has saved more people this year than Deku. How is that not a hero?" the cohost argues back.

"He's also cost this city thousands of man-hours repairing the damage his blasts created."

I set my tablet down, trying to push their argument out of my head. The familiar chime of bells rings, drawing my gaze to the doorway.

A redhead stands there, his eyes scanning the restaurant until they find mine. His face softens as he makes his way over, pulling out a chair and sitting across from me.

"You look good today," he says warmly. "Changed your hair?"

"No, but I did change my relationship status." I roll my eyes at his attempt at small talk. I know my ex-boyfriend's best friend didn’t just call me up to chat.

He chuckles, a sound out of place given the tension. “Look, I know things have been rough for you.”

“Rough? That’s putting it mildly.”

He leans forward, elbows on the table. “I want to help. He’s worried about you, you know.”

I sigh, glancing at the drawing in front of me. “He wasn’t worried when I was crying myself to sleep.”

“I get it,” he says softly. “But he’s struggling too. The hero life isn’t as glamorous as it seems. You know that better than anyone.” My heart skips a beat at the reminder of my early retirement. “The constant pressure, the expectations... it’s taking a toll on him.”

I look up, meeting his eyes. They hold sincerity, a genuine concern I hadn’t expected. “What do you want from me?” I whisper.

“Talk to him. Just once. Hear him out. You both deserve that closure.”

I lean back, the weight of his words settling over me.

“Fine,” I say after a long pause. “I’ll talk to him. But this doesn’t mean anything beyond that.”

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “That’s all I’m asking. Thank you.”

He settles back into his chair and picks up the menu. "Why don't we order something?"

I nod, grateful for the change in topic. "Sure. I hear their ramen is amazing."

We browse the menu, tension easing as we focus on the food. The waitress comes by, and we place our orders—spicy miso ramen for me, tonkotsu ramen for him.

As we wait, the restaurant buzzes with lunchtime chatter. Clinking utensils, humming conversations, and occasional laughter create a comforting atmosphere. It feels almost normal, a brief break from the chaos.

“So,” he says, breaking the silence, “how’s work? Still drawing those amazing designs?”

I smile, appreciating his interest. “Yeah, hectic, but I’m managing. Deadlines are killer, though.” He laughs as our waitress places two bowls in front of us.

“I can imagine. But your work is worth it. You’ve got talent, always have.”

“Thanks,” I say, feeling more at ease. “How about you? How’s hero life?”

“It’s... a lot,” he admits, mouth full of food. He swallows. “But it’s worth it, knowing we’re making a difference." I hum in agreement, tasting my food. The flavorful broth dances across my tongue, making me do an unconscious happy dance.

"We really do miss you though," Kiri says, his voice trailing off as he scratches his neck. I feel a pang of remembrance. I've never stopped missing being a hero. I hate not being able to work with my best friends.

"I don't get a retirement package as a hero," I reply, forcing a smile to mask my heartache. But it's clear my facade fails as regret fills Kiri's eyes. Apologies spill from his lips, but I don't listen. Instead, I reach out and gently place my hand on his for a brief moment.

"Eijiro, I promise you I've moved on. I don't blame anyone for what happened," I assure him, pushing another smile onto my face. "I got over that a long time ago."

I withdraw my hand and continue to eat, the conversation flowing more easily after a few moments. We reminisce about our days at UA, share laughs about our coworkers, and for a while, it feels like old times.

By the time we finish, I feel lighter, the past weeks’ weight lifting slightly. It’s not a solution, but it’s a start.

“Thanks for meeting me,” he says as we stand to leave. “and for agreeing to talk to him.”

I nod, a sense of anticipation blooming. “We’ll see how it goes.”

As we step out into the city’s noise, I unblock his number from my phone and watch in horror as hundreds of missed messages flood my phone screen.

[mynameismckenziemae]

All of Me

Part 12

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You

Summary: You see a different side of Jake when he spends the night again.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, femdom, edging, teasing, slight exhibitionism, sexting, etc.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Go sit down in the living room,” Bradley insists, pushing you out of the kitchen to clean up after dinner because you cooked, “Pick out a movie or something, just no chick flicks.”

Jake helps him as you settle on the couch, eventually picking ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ as they finish up.

“Oh come on,” Bradley huffs as he sees it on the screen.

You laugh, sitting up so Jake can settle behind you. “You can pick next.”

“You don’t mind if I stay awhile?” He asks, flopping down on the couch across from you two.

“Would it matter if I did?” You tease, laughing as he tosses a pillow. “I’m kidding! Of course, you can stay.”

“Alright,” he replies, tugging at your heartstrings when he continues. “I just don’t want to intrude on your alone time together.”

“Hey,” you toss the pillow back, hitting him in the face. “You’re still my best friend. That isn’t going to change because I’m dating someone.”

“Alright,” Bradley says, glancing at Jake who gives him a nod.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Drew calls as your movie ends, and you put him on speakerphone so the guys can talk too.

“…and then we went out on the canoes and everyone else’s tipped but not ours!” He rushes out, talking a mile a minute. “Did you guys talk yet? Jake? Are you my mom’s boyfriend now?”

“How much sugar have you had today?” You laugh, teasing him.

Jake’s smiling too. “Yes, I’m her boyfriend now. Is that-“

“Yes!” The volume of answering shout makes you wince. “Roo, did you hear that? Our plan worked!”

“What plan?” You ask, looking up.

“Nothing,” Bradley and Drew answer together.

You roll your eyes but a smile pulls at your lips. “I just can’t with you two sometimes.”

“Are you guys gonna get married too?” Drew asks, not waiting for an answer before he’s asking another question, “Oh! Are you gonna have a baby? I really want a brother, but a sister-”

“You’re getting way ahead of yourself there, little Kernsie. Remember what we talked about?” Bradley saves you from having to answer while you avoid looking at Jake.

“Oh yeah, my bad,” Drew replies. “Now you just need a girlfriend, Roo.”

Bradley laughs. “I-“

“Wait,” Drew interrupts, suddenly sounding so small, making your heart pinch. “Can we still have boys' nights if you get a girlfriend?”

“Nothing is gonna stop us from having boys' night,” Bradley says, voice thick.

“Promise?” His little voice asks.

“I promise,” Bradley replies, not looking up.

“Okay good,” he replies, perking back up. “I gotta go. We’re gonna have a campfire before bed. Love you guys!” He hangs up before any of you can reply.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

The room is quiet, heavy with emotion as Bradley scrolls for a movie. Jake lays back on the couch before guiding you back against his chest. You melt into his embrace; it feels so good to be held after years of having to be the one doing the holding as a mom.

Bradley starts snoring a few minutes later.

“He okay?” Jake murmurs as his fingertips trail up and down your arm. Bradley had quickly wiped his tears and changed the subject earlier when Jake had entered the kitchen.

“Yeah,” you murmur, looking over. He always acts so happy and carefree but you know he’s lonely. “Grief is weird. I don’t know how to else to explain it.”

“I bet,” he murmurs, pulling the blanket from the back of the couch over you both. “I won’t…I would never expect your friendship to change because of me. Or he and Drew’s relationship.”

“I know,” you smile, turning your head for a kiss. “He knows that too; I don’t think he’s allowed himself to grieve fully and big changes like this bring up a lot of emotion.”

He nods, attention returning to the movie; for a few minutes at least. The fingers trailing over your arm fall lower, fiddling with the hem of your tee shirt before tracing over your stomach.

“Your skin is so soft,” he murmurs by your ear, making you shiver as his cock twitches to life behind your back. He trails nonsensical patterns up over your belly button to the underside of your bralette-encased breast.

It feels naughty with Bradley snoring just a few feet away, but you still arch your back in a silent request.

He chuckles lowly and obliges, pinching your nipple as his other hand slides down into the front of your leggings, groaning when he finds you already wet.

“You like this, huh?” He murmurs hotly, nipping at your earlobe as he finds your clit.

You bite your lip to keep from whimpering as you nod.

“Gotta be real quiet then,” he whispers, sliding two fingers inside you. “Can you do that? Not make a sound?”

You nod again, gripping his thigh when he curls those fingers against your g-spot as his palm rubs your clit.

Instead of getting you off quickly with the possibility of Roo waking up any moment, he drags it out; slowly fucking you with his fingers while teasing your nipples. Finally, you start to tighten, on the edge of release, but he stills his fingers.

“What are-why’d you stop?” You whisper, chest heaving.

“Thought he was waking up,” he replies, a smug smile evident in his voice.

Bradley’s snores haven’t changed nor has he moved.

You turn slightly, hand slides up behind you into his hair and tug. “Liar,” you reply, nipping his sharp jaw.

His cock twitches at your back as he resumes his ministrations, pushing you back to the edge, but he stops when you’re on the brink. Again.

“Jake,” you groan softly, frustrated yet loving this side of him you haven’t seen yet. “Please?”

He hums against your hair as the hand on your chest begins teasing your breasts again; pinching, rolling, tugging your nipples until your hips begin to gyrate against his motionless fingers still inside you.

“Come on, Jake,” you whine, bringing your hand down over his to encourage him. “Please?”

He shudders behind you before finally giving in. “God, I love hearing you beg.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you reply, sighing as your orgasm approaches rapidly. He starts to slow again when he feels you clenching but you turn and capture his lips. “I won’t let you cum for a week if you stop again,” you warn, sinking your teeth into his lower lip to send the message home.

“Y-yes ma’am,” he breathes; instantly folding as you take back the reins of control. His hips begin to rut against you as your orgasm washes over you, with nothing but a soft, breathy moan leaving your lips.

Bradley is still snoring away as you pull Jake’s hand from your pants before bringing his fingers to your mouth to clean. Jake groans quietly as your tongue swirls around the digits like you would his cock before releasing them with a soft pop.

“You get a taste of being bad and decide you no longer need to listen?” You ask as you kiss along his jaw.

“I-fuck,” he gasps when you suck on his neck, hard enough to scare him but not enough to leave a mark.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” you smile against his skin at the way he shivers.

“Yes ma’am,” he replies.

You both jump when Bradley snores himself awake.

“How much did I miss?” He yawns, looking at the TV.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

It takes a while for Jake’s erection to go down behind you, especially with the way you keep moving.

Jake picks a movie after the credits roll but you fall asleep a few minutes into it.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

The sun is just starting to shine through the living room windows as you’re gently shaken awake by Roo.

“Hey, it’s a little after 6, I’m gonna go home and shower. Thanks for letting me stay,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead. “See you at lunch?”

“Any time, Roo,” you yawn, nodding, “I’ll bring leftovers for lunch.”

“You’re the best,” he smiles, heading for the door.

“Morning,” you turn to kiss Jake awake. “Wanna take a shower?”

“Yes,” he replies sleepily, not opening his eyes while his arms tighten around you. “In 10 minutes.”

You laugh but let him hold you for a few minutes more as you listen to his slow heartbeat as the room begins to brighten with the new day.

Your own heart begins to race as you realize this is how you want to wake up from now on.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Shit! It’s after 7!”

You jolt awake at Jake’s words, having fallen back asleep in his warm embrace.

“Fuck fuck fuck, I’m sorry,” he apologizes as he follows you up the stairs. “What time do you have to be in?”

“It’s okay, I fell asleep too,” you reply, whipping off your clothes and pulling out a clean pair of scrubs. “7:30ish. My first patient is at 7:45.”

“You’re wearing those?” He gulps, looking at the first pair of underwear you grabbed and pulling up, black, lacy boy shorts that show off your ass nicely.

“Yeah, why?” You ask, turning around and seeing precum from his morning wood staining his briefs. “Oh you poor thing,” you coo, time forgotten as you walk over to him. “I might’ve taken care of this in the shower,” you say as your hand brushes over his cock and around his hip to grip his ass. “Too bad we overslept.”

His eyes close and he sucks in a breath when you land a sharp slap to his still-tender ass before you turn to get dressed.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

He pulls you in for a deep kiss that has you wanting more before you drive away. With your lead foot, you make it with 30 seconds to spare.

The morning schedule is busy and the boys are already in your office with your warmed-up leftovers when you break for lunch. It’s brief though, as they have a meeting before their afternoon hop.

“See you tonight?” Jake murmurs before stealing a kiss.

You nod, seeing him out before Sophie comes in a moment later, looking ready to cry.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Sit down,” You gesture to one of the chairs across from your dress that the boys vacated.

“I got accepted to the UCLA program to get my master’s in nursing,” she smiles tearfully.

“Oh Soph, that’s great!” You say, reaching out to squeeze her hand. This had been something she’s been working towards for a while. “Congratulations!”

“You’re not mad?” She asks, lip quivering.

You laugh, “Of course not! Why would I be mad?”

“Because I have to quit,” she replies, tears now spilling over.

“Oh Soph,” you sniff, coming around to hug her. “I’m definitely going to miss you. But I’m happy that you’re finally pursuing this. Who knows, maybe you’ll end up back here as a nurse practitioner.”

She nods as she wipes her tears before giving you all the details.

“I better go get your first afternoon patient checked in,” she sighs, “thanks Reese, for everything.”

“Of course,” you smile, but it falls once she leaves your office.

Not were you only going to miss her, but now you have to find a new nurse.

You pull your phone out to text Jake but he’s already sent one, with a picture attached.

Jake: You were right. Every time I sit down I remember what you did to me yesterday.

The picture is taken under the table, it’s dark but his straining erection is obvious.

Reese: By the looks of things, you enjoyed it.

Reese: Is that why you edged me last night? Was that your way of asking for more?

Jake: Never

Jake: Bradshaw kept moving. I didn’t think you’d want him to catch us in the act.

You bite your lip at his little act, the panties he liked so much this morning growing wet.

Reese: I know you’re lying to me. I’ll find out the truth one way or another tonight.

Reese: Before you suit up for your hop, I want a video of you jerking off.

Reese: and no, you can’t cum. 😘

Sophie’s knock makes you jump. “All set.”

“Thanks,” you reply, cheeks flushing like you’ve been caught.

You can almost hear his sigh before his next text.

Jake: …

Jake: Yes ma’am.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

A/N: I just love these two. This version of Jake is quickly becoming my favorite. I dropped a hint for Bradley’s story…any ideas?

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[honeytae]

this was originally supposed to be very soft…oops! :)

the first half is inspired by a dream i had about jimin that literally had me waking up in tears + the second half is inspired by ‘thinking bout you’ by ariana grande which happened to come on shuffle play a few mins later. voilà!

genre: angst, fluff, smut

wc: 3.8k

warnings: moderate angst (eludes to enl*stment), a lot of tears, language, looots of kissing, making out, grinding, oral activities, and unprotected sex (don’t). explicit description of sexual acts: minors dni.

jimin wakes with a deeply wounded sound that could be described as the world’s most dramatic grunt.

he absolutely hates waking up alone. everyone knows he’s a natural cuddler, born to hold others and be held.

ideally, by you.

blinking harshly against the afternoon sun streaming through the window, jimin stretches his arm out to your side of the bed, huffing when he comes across cold sheets.

he blows another deep breath out of his mouth as he rolls over to check the time, slowly breaking out of his post-nap haze.

“good morning, sleepy head.”

jimin perks up at the sound of your voice. on cue, you step through the doorway, looking equally sleepy while clutching your favorite mug.

you shuffle across the bedroom, smiling fondly at the man as his legs kick out and ruffle the sheets when he sits up.

“you left me,” he juts out his bottom lip, reaching for you impatiently as you lower yourself onto the mattress.

“i’m sorry, babe,” you pout back, directing your eyes to the mug by way of explanation, “i woke up with a craving for chai tea,” you continue, handing the mug over as you settle in next to him.

“well, i woke up with a craving for you,” he quips, sassily raising the mug to his lips as you lovingly roll your eyes at him.

he makes a satisfied hum as he swallows the sweet tea, showing his enthusiasm with a bob of his head.

pressing his lips together, he hands the mug back to you, watching as you take another sip before leaning over to set it down on the nightstand.

when you sit back against the pillows and look at jimin, you feel a rush of warmth spread through your chest. you aren’t entirely used to seeing him right here, next to you, so content.

there have been so many times when you sat up at night thinking about him, worrying about him, craving him, all while he was more distant than he had ever been throughout your relationship. and this wasn’t even by his design.

it makes you emotional, the way he easily nestles into your side, the way his hand gravitates to yours, and the gentle concern in his eyes as he watches your own well up with tears.

“hey,” he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, “what is it, angel?” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours as he searches your eyes, hoping for a clue while he gives you the time to gather yourself enough to speak.

“i just can’t believe you’re here,” you eventually say, much quieter than you intended. “and i’m so happy,” you emphasize. your heart sinks when jimin’s eyes mirror your own, glistening with unshed tears.

your exchange of emotion is wordless for a long moment, as you are addressing the obvious. you are here, together, but only for now. you are happy and content, but only for now. and as much as you try to combat your pessimism, you are a realist at heart.

in a few days, jimin will inevitably leave again.

your hands pull towards his crumpling face like a magnet, cupping his jaw and swiping your thumbs along his soft cheeks when the salty drops descend down his skin, leaning forward to press your lips to his wobbly pair.

“i miss you so much,” he sniffs, eyebrows furrowing as he takes notice of your now wet cheeks, “i always miss you,” he chokes on a sob, the sound pulling on all your heartstrings and delivering a swift punch to the gut.

it makes you want to cry even more watching him be so upset, desperately trying to push the lump in your throat away for the sake of your limited time together. you fail miserably, letting your head fall onto his shoulder as more tears break free.

“please don’t cry,” you sob in return, “not about this. it’s okay, baby,” the latter part of your statement is muffled as jimin pulls you closer to crush you in his arms, nestling his head into your neck as his back still shakes with unsteady breaths.

“please don’t cry,” you reiterate with a sniffle of your own, looping your arms around his back as you both dig deeper into the embrace.

“then you don’t cry! it breaks my heart,” he pouts, squeezing your hand again as he presses a chaste kiss to your chin, a contented sigh leaving him when you turn your face to kiss him.

your lips meld together sweetly, sharing one, two, three, soft kisses full of the taste of salt from your combined tears.

you pull back and allow your tired head to fall onto his shoulder again, jimin placing his head on yours with another soft sigh.

“fuck,” he tsks after a quiet moment, turning his face to look at you with swollen eyes.

you chuckle humorlessly, stretching your neck to gingerly press your lips to the drying tear trails on his face. the apples of his cheeks appear as you do so, eyes creasing as he grins down at you.

“i’m sorry for being depressing. i swear i had fun plans when i first came in here,” you sigh, smiling when jimin smushes your cheeks together with his hand and pecks the damp skin with his lips, as you did him.

“don’t be sorry. this has been a lot,” he frowns, “and we needed the cry.”

you hum in agreement, turning onto your side and settling deeper into his chest as his fingers soothingly dance along your shoulder.

“i love you so much,” he murmurs, hand tracing down to rub calming circles into your back.

it doesn't matter how often you hear jimin say that he loves you; you have determined that your heart will nearly combust every time.

so you grin like a fool and hoist yourself up onto your elbows, hands settling on his bare chest. your eyes fondly dance along his features, from his sparkling eyes to his adorable button nose, to the perfect puffy pillows he has for lips.

“i love you so much,” you trace his skin, running your thumb along the ridges in his abdomen. “this is new,” you comment on his physique with a quirked brow, jimin’s face breaking into a big, beautiful smile as he laughs shyly.

“wow,” you carry on, and embarrassed, he waves you off, which only encourages you to amp up the act.

“what, you want me to ignore this? i mean, i’ve never seen an eight pack before!” you exclaim, grinning when you see that he’s now totally flushed pink, both from the way your nail traces down his happy trail and your praise.

“stop it,” he whines, “you’re torturing me. come up here,” he gestures, patting his thighs. you lift a leg to straddle his waist, lowering yourself to sit on his hips.

it’s instinctive and effortless, the way you fall down onto his chest. the way his hands travel down your lower back to rest on your ass, sinking his fingers into the flesh with what could only be described as a sigh of relief.

resting your face in the juncture between his chest and neck, you pucker your lips on the skin there, then move over to the column of his throat to do the same, and down to his collarbone. his breath catches in his throat when you open your mouth against him, hissing a breath through his teeth when you drag your tongue along the skin.

“sensitive,” you tease as you pick your head up, the smirk falling right off your face as he lifts his hand and delivers a sharp smack to your ass. you inhale a sharp gasp as a hot wave of arousal washes over you, and the mood change in the room is instantaneous.

jimin’s mouth actively seeks yours like a moth to a flame, lips colliding in a mess of teeth and tongue that has you keening for more. you moan into each other's mouths as he fondles your ass, sneaking a finger down between your legs to rub you through your dampening shorts.

the thought of jimin being unreachable again was constant worry gnawing at you. but for now, you are rested, reunited, and so, so in love.

and frankly, more than a little needy.

your tongues lazily tangle together as jimin traces his hands up your body, settling on your stomach and caressing the skin. you could almost laugh at the contradiction between the gentle circles he’s rubbing into your tummy versus the way he’s currently sucking on your tongue.

when you can no longer ignore the burning in your lungs, you lift yourself from his mouth, jimin swiftly taking the opportunity to lift your t-shirt over your head and chuck it across the room.

he stares at your bare chest with a deep groan, cupping your breasts and gently squeezing the tissue in his hands.

“fucking love it when you don’t wear a bra,” he says, tweaking your nipples between skilled thumbs.

“yeah? wanna burn all my bras?” you smirk, jaw falling slack when he dips forward to close his mouth around your nipple. he sucks on the aching nub until you’re whining his name, breaking away for only a moment to answer you.

“happily,” he simpers, switching to your other neglected breast. he encourages you with open palms on the small of your waist when you arch your back and push your chest further into him.

he pops off your chest with a shaky breath as your hips instinctively grind down on his lap, an airy whine erupting from the back of your throat at the feeling of his bulge poking into you.

“fuck, baby, just like that,” jimin instructs with a soft moan, laying back against the pillows as his hands move to support your gyrating hips.

lowering yourself so your face hovers above his, you support yourself using the pillow beneath his head as you begin slowly rocking your hips along the tent in his boxers, back and forth, back and forth.

the friction is making you feel dizzy, rubbing you in all the right spots.

plus, the eye contact isn’t helping your case at all. jimin’s half-shut eyelids send a stronger pulse between your legs. all you can concentrate on is chasing the pleasure you feel right now, taking jimin’s short breaths as confirmation that you two are in the same boat.

“jimin, baby,” you breathe, reluctantly stilling your hips, “i really could cum right now and that scares me.”

your mouth twitches into a grin when he lets out a belly laugh in response, moving his hands up and down your back to help bring you back to earth.

“me too,” he chuckles, “it’s only slightly humiliating,” he says as he kisses your shoulder, his head easily falling back onto the pillows as you meet his lips again.

jimin moans into your mouth as your other hand suddenly slips into his boxer shorts, wrapping your fingers around the base of him and closing your hand around him to squeeze his shaft. his eyes shift to look at your hand down his pants, but close as soon as you swipe your thumb across his tip.

you’re dragging your hand up and down on him, tracing your smallest finger over the dull pulse shooting up his cock. low whines are leaving his lips, his hand grasping your side when you quicken your pace.

“oh god,” he rasps, “you have to stop, baby.”

when you continue your actions with a pout, he leans forward to press his lips to the wrinkle temporarily formed in your chin.

“but i wanna make you feel good,” you say. you still allow him to fully sit up, dropping his cock with a reluctant sigh.

“well, i wanna make you feel good too. do we have a deal?,” he grins as he takes hold of your ankles and pulls you toward the end of the bed, your eagerness showing in the way you shimmy out of your shorts and underwear in one go. you chuck said items across the room, jimin immediately sinking to his knees on the floor.

you shudder as he starts pressing open-mouthed kisses to the inside of your thighs, obviously teasing as you push your hips impatiently toward him.

“baby, please,” you beg, and he seems to get the message. placing his hands underneath your calves, he lifts your legs and guides them over his shoulders.

as you look down at him devilishly smiling between your thighs, you think that he would give the cheshire cat a run for his money.

when his mouth finally meets the area begging for his attention most, you let out a broken cry of his name, fisting the sheets beside you as he languidly strokes his tongue through the arousal spilling from you.

“hmmh,” he moans into you, making you shudder from the vibration, knees going weak as he circles your clit with a pointed tongue.

your vision goes black once you feel one of his fingers circling your entrance, pushing its way in after you let out a garbled plea to the ceiling. he thrusts with one finger then adds another, hooking them to rub your sweet spot.

you feel a rush of heat rise in your cheeks at his actions, clenching the sheets with a whine as you start rocking your hips to fuck yourself onto his fingers.

“oh fuck, oh fuck! baby,” you whine, letting a hand sneak down to settle on his head, gripping his hair and tugging just how he likes.

it’s only been a few minutes and you can feel that you’re embarrassingly close, especially with the way jimin tauntingly drags his fingers just right along your walls, hitting your g spot with each pointed thrust of his hand. the pressure keeps building, electricity rippling through your lower abdomen as he hits your cervix.

“i-i’m gonna cum,” you stutter, jimin throwing an arm over your stomach to stop your writhing, holding you in place as he dips down to essentially make out with your clit.

and then the band snaps, time slows, and you’re falling, falling, falling.

when your vision comes back, jimin is above you, running his hands up and down your now sore leg muscles.

you reach out to place your hand on his shoulder, squeezing the muscle then bringing your palm around to cup the back of his neck.

“oh my god, i love you,” you breathe, chest still stuttering from your high.

“i love you more,” he coos, bringing his hand up to your hair, carefully smoothing it away from your face with his fingers.

it’s quiet for a moment as your head slows its spinning. jimin’s dark pupils pull you back to earth, glittering with your reflection.

“you okay, my love?” he murmurs softly, shifting his hand so he can swipe his thumb over your cheek. his appendage moves when you bob your head in response, flashing him a tired grin.

“never been better,” you confirm, “ready for round two?”

jimin crinkles his nose in amusement, dipping down to eagerly meet your lips. sighs and moans pass between you as he licks into your mouth, the taste of you rubbing off onto your tongue.

you pull him in tighter to you, jimin’s hips thrusting into yours in pursuit of stimulation. you buck your hips up to meet his, the lazy pace of your grind far from satisfying your need.

“fuck me, baby, please,” you break apart from the kiss with a whine, tracing your hands down his body to slip your fingers beneath his waistband once again.

this time, jimin eagerly straightens up, pushing his shorts down his legs and tossing them aside. his length slaps up against his stomach, and oh my god, you think, he’s so hard it looks like it hurts.

“on your side, baby,” he says with a soft pat to your ass, erupting into giggles when you all too enthusiastically flip over, leaving him to bounce on the bed beside you.

you eagerly settle back into his chest as he spoons you from behind, his arm wrapping around your torso to pull you as close to him as he can. you can feel the rhythm of his heartbeat pressing into your back, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder.

“i love that this is the only time you’re the big spoon,” you tease, gasping when he lifts your leg and slides his cock through your wet folds.

as much as you like to tease jimin, you find that you like the end result of him shutting you up much better.

“fuck,” you whisper as he bumps his tip into your swollen clit, needily rocking your hips back to slide along his length.

“jimin, please,” you beg, and you don’t even recognize your own voice. you sound desperate, and with anyone else you would feel embarrassed. but it’s jimin, who doesn’t miss a beat and instead leaves a wet smack of his lips on your shoulder, lining his cock up with your entrance and pushing the tip inside of you.

“oh,” you blow a breath through clenched teeth at the intrusion, fingers digging into the pillow beside your head as pleasure spreads through your core already.

jimin grunts as he shifts his hips forward to inch inside, pulling back and thrusting more of himself into you. he curses as you squeeze him, letting his face fall into your neck.

a moan erupts from your chest as he bottoms out, while jimin blows out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“fuck, so good. you’re so good for me,” he moans, sounding entirely delirious as he feels you wrapped around him like this for the first time in months.

he leans down to pepper kisses over your cheeks as he waits for you to adjust to him, pressing one last kiss to the side of your head as you nod for him to go.

“you sure?” he asks, chuckling when you try to thrust your hips onto him yourself. he follows your movements, gently pulling back and easily sinking into your entrance.

“fuck, yes, i’m sure,” you moan breathlessly.

jimin is increasingly vocal as your walls clamp down around him, sucking him in each time he pulls out. he’s panting and repeating your name like a mantra, and you aren’t faring much better.

“jimin, make it hurt,” you cry out, muffled into the pillow you’ve buried your face into.

he bends your knee up further to spread you wider for him and picks up his pace, thighs clapping against your ass deliciously. the bed springs are crying out for help, the headboard banging against the wall as he carries you to the brink of another orgasm.

“baby, i’m close,” you whimper.

jimin moans gibberish in response, a sure sign that he’s almost there, too. you clench your muscles down on him, causing the flurry of noises from his mouth to increase.

the ball of heat is growing within your core, sweat beading on your forehead. you reach your arm behind you to hook around jimin’s neck, turning your head to face jimin. and that’s really what does it.

he looks destroyed, eyes closed and eyebrows scrunched together. his mouth is hanging open, his chest visibly rising and falling as he rapidly thrusts into you, chasing ultimate relief.

you’re suddenly thrown into another orgasm, the feeling of your walls spasming around jimin’s cock giving him the final push he needs.

you watch with dazed eyes as he quickly pulls out and strokes his cock in his hand, warm ropes of cum spurting from his tip to your ass, some drops landing on your lower back.

jimin breathes heavily behind you, and while it’s tempting to cuddle you back to sleep, he begins to shuffle off the bed.

“noooo,” you whine in complaint, reaching out for him with a limp arm.

“i’ll be right back,” he coos, leaning over to kiss each of your knuckles before standing up and leaving you in the room.

he comes back minutes later with a cloth in one hand and a glass of water in the other. after passing the glass to you, he climbs back into bed and swipes the wet fabric over your backside.

once he’s deemed you clean, he tosses the rag onto his other clothes littering the floor, and settles back into the mess of sheets and pillows. he reaches out to help as you turn your weak body around so you’re facing him, arms looping around his neck.

the air in the room is thick, an aspect confirmed by the distant sound of the air conditioner clicking on. nonetheless, you bury yourself into jimin’s neck, smiling when you feel the drag of his bottom lip against your ear as he collects himself from a yawn.

you’re almost drifting off when you hear his voice, but you’ve missed what he said. you hum in an unspoken request for him to repeat himself, straightening up to show him you’re listening.

he takes a breath, then pauses for a moment. you can hear that he’s debating something in his head, and just as you’re about to try to encourage him, he comes out with a rare statement.

“can i tell you a secret?”

your interest is piqued by his request, opening your eyes with an eager nod.

jimin hates secrets, so he tends to tell you everything. some may say he overshares; you, however, would disagree.

“‘course,” is all you can manage, completely spent as numb fingers search to interlock with his own.

“when this is all over,” he starts, tracing his thumb along your knuckles and stopping at your fourth finger, “i’m gonna marry you.”

your breath hitches in your throat, eyes widening as you search for any hint of teasing in his features.

what you find instead is a gentle gleam in his eye, pupils staring into your soul as he glows from the inside out. he looks as if a weight has been lifted from him, and you wonder how long he’d been thinking about this before he gained the courage to put it out there.

you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, covering your face with open palms as you break out into a giddy grin.

“you can’t just say that,” you laugh, allowing him to pull your body up and over him so that you’re lying on his chest.

“well, for now, i’m just saying it,” he retorts, “but i fully plan on being your husband for as long as you let me.”

you run your fingers across his pecs as you let his words soak in, nuzzling your cheek into his chest with increasingly misty eyes.

“i’d really like that.”

[chubs-deuce]

Hi! First of all I wanted to say I love your art so much thank you for sharing your work with us!

If I may ask, how do you come up with the poses in your art? Do you use refs or just sketch them from imagination? Any tips you could share about it?

Figuring out poses is the hardest part of art for me and I am just in awe of how dynamic and great the poses are in your work!

Thank you again and I hope you have a great day!!

oh boy am I ever happy to talk about this!! :D

first of all thank you so much!! <3 I'm genuinely so happy to hear that aaaa-

So-

In regards to coming up with ideas? I oftentimes just kind of fuck around and find out - a lot of times I just get a momentary brain-spark that gives me a glimpse of an idea if that makes sense? It's mostly just the general vibe, a specific feeling, a facial expression, a rough silhouette and if it intrigues me enough I will try to pursue the idea in-depth!

I normally do try to do the poses by hand myself, but sometimes the image in my head isn't detailed enough and I get hung up on where to place the hands or legs or for some reason or another I just can't get the torso and head to sit right... so I get a little help!

More specifically I use a program to make pose references! :D

It's called DesignDoll and it's free on windows (tho you can't save without the pro service which is meh but it offers perfectly succinct functions as is already so I never bothered with the paid version)! It can be a bit finnicky to control sometimes (the elbows and knees love twisting into random angles whenever hands/feet are moved) but it's really really versatile once you know what you're doing! Ngl making raking references in it can take me up to an hour at times but it's really fun too so it's never been a bother for me haha

Some recent examples:

What actually helps me the most with this process tho is the fact that I can make these poses and choose the angles and everything myself! I find that the process of making the refs actually really helps me refine the concept in my head - a lot better than I would be able to in a drawing anyway! Plus I'm very lazy so I hate redrawing things overly often haha

You can probably see it the best in the first drawing and the karaoke one - I didn't use the references 1:1, I still do change things spontaneously if I find it works better for my drawing that way - so I don't really use it for the proportions so much as just visualizing my idea with more precision that I can then adapt properly into the artwork :D

I highly recommend doing something similar if you often find yourself with only fragments of a pose or no clear idea for one!!! DesignDoll isn't the only program of this kind either so it's worth looking into other alternatives too if you don't have a windows system to run this one on!

(just please do not use generative AI for art references! Always remember that there is no such thing as ethical generative AI! ;w;)

[petew21-blog]

Race you there

Max Verstappen. My enemy, nemesis you could say. Why? Cause he now beat me many times, taking trophies, getting the media attention, getting sponsorships I used to have. I still do have many to be honest, I'm Lewis Hamilton, so they still want me. But I'll be 40 next year, my career is coming to an end and thanks to Max, I think about it more and more often.

He has it all now. Beautiful girlfriend, great team, nice life, all the wins and shit loads of money. And he's 26 now se he still has many years ahead of him. Still more races to win, money to spend, people to fuck... I can't say that I hate my life. No, my life is great. But I just feel like my life on the race is not fullfilled yet.

I would give anything to be young again like Max and just enjoy the rush.

"Anything?" a voice echoed in my head.

"Who is this? What's happening?"

"No need to worry about that. Your stupid little human brain wouldn't even comprehend it if I would tell you. So, you wanna be young again? Young like MAX?"

"Yeah, the same age. If you are some sort of trickster then do not make me a Child or something. I specifically want to be young like Max to race and have my career ahead of me. I want to be able to win all the trophies again"

"And so you shall. All I need is to get something from you. What do you offer?"

"Are you like the devil or something? I don't want to offer my soul to you"

"Quite the opposite. But no one works for free. I am asking you, to give me permission to use your old body whenever I want."

"What would happen to my old body when you won't be inside of it?"

"Don't worry about that. All you need to worry about now is, what race you wanna win next and what sponsors to choose. We have a deal?"

"Deal" I said and then everything. And I really mean EVERYTHING shifted.

I found myself naked and in a shower. I looked down to find out my skin tone now was much lighter then before. Fuck, what did that entity do. Am I really a new person now? Did the reality shift completely?

Someone opened the door.

"Max, you gonna be long? I need to take a shower too before we head out for the interview and then the race."

MAX?!? I looked out of the shower and immediately recognised one teammate of Max's. I kept on staring at him in shock.

"Dude, you're wearing your cap in the shower again? You're nuts. Tell me again why are you doing it?"

The question was for me now. I need to respond quickly:"Eeeh. Luck?"

"Yeah, right. Like you need luck. Winning everything, haha. Ok, hurry up. I need the shower too."

He left the room. I looked back at my new body. It wasn't as buff as my previous one, but it was lean, slightly ripped and had a pretty nice dick (not as big as mine) that was getting harder every second. "You gotta wait little one. Got a race to win, so I gotta concentrate now."

After many races in my old body. I was now holding the trophy again. Finally happy. And I am pretty sure, this isn't the last one.

In the distance as I was celebrating I saw my old body, observing me mischieviously. It's the entity now. I wonder if Max is in that body too. But then my body winked and grabbed my old crotch to make me laugh.

Whoever is in that body, I am thankful for this one and I hope they will have a great time there

Story request from inbox: Lewis Hamilton is jealous of Max Verstappen's victories and swaps bodies with him. Please keep me anonymous.

[stoneagedevil]

They’ll Understand (Somethin’ Stupid pt. 2) | Alastor x f!Reader

Part 1: “Somethin’ Stupid”

TW/CW: Angel being Angel. Anxiety and fear. Allusions to murder.

🎙️

“Wear this little number? He won’t be able to resist ya!” Angel was keeping you captive in his room, currently raiding his closet in search for something you could wear to impress Alastor, and according to Angel, once you “reeled him in with your pretty face” and “rockin’ body” you’d be able to “bed him.” You weren’t necessarily pleased with his wording, your face turning as red as your dreamboat’s hair.

“Angel, while I appreciate the gesture, I’m not comfortable wearing a leather bikini.” You deadpanned. Your anxiety was nipping at your heels, and you felt the urge to run. From what? Most likely confessing. To where? You didn’t know. But you hated how it was bringing the skittish deer out of you, as it was truly embarrassing. Alastor and you often confided in each other on how your demonic forms had caused you numerous headaches, and you felt comforted that someone you admired so much also experienced the same things you did, just as he felt that way about you. But you didn’t run from things, as they typically ran from you. You stood from Angel’s bed and started pacing again in an attempt to quell the instinct to run.

“Even if he reciprocated, what am I meant to do with love? What happens after?” You tilted your head at Angel, and he dropped another inappropriate article of clothing in shock at your question.

“You mean you’ve neva seen those cheesy romance flix before?” Angel’s eyes widened. This was the saddest thing ever. Identifying these feelings was one thing, but the fact that you didn’t know how to act on them was so depressing to Angel. Just how emotionally constipated were you? Hadn’t you felt love before? What kind of life had you led that you didn’t know the feeling at all?

“I can’t say I really watched much TV. Just the same few movies I really enjoyed over and over again when I wanted to hear another’s voice. Definitely not romance films.” You contemplated. No, you couldn’t recall ever watching romance films. You weren’t particularly keen on watching much TV, and you only went to the movie theatre when something truly interested you. However, you would occasionally put on a movie in the background while doing chores such as laundry, as it filled the empty space; if it wasn’t a movie, it was music, and it most often was.

“Well sit your ass down then, because class is in session.” After unceremoniously pushing your shoulders down to make you sit on his bed once more, Angel immediately went to where he kept his romance movies, pulling out a handful and explaining each one to you, before making you watch the best scenes from each.

Initially, you were quite apprehensive. Angel the Love Doctor’s license was certainly questionable, especially with this prescription of mushy movies. But eventually, you resonated with a lot of the characters, specifically the ones who were troubled with their feelings, like that one “Edward Cullen” guy.

From your understanding, love was one of the most powerful emotions a person could feel. It drove these characters to do insane things that furthered the plot of the movie; things you’ve done because of your feelings for Alastor: like hurting people you felt threatened by. Through these scenes, you learned about jealousy, of so-called “butterflies,” how people apart hurt inside.

But love made them…happy. Happy. Content in domestic bliss. You felt a pull in your chest, realizing you couldn’t ever remember feeling that way. You hadn’t had anyone around you interested in the same things you were. You were always the outlier. Always the one picked last for things. It didn’t particularly bother you at the time; back when you were alive. You didn’t have much to care about. But now, you felt you had something good to die for, which made it that much more beautiful to live.

Your brows were furrowed in concentration, and you were so focused on the screen and the interactions between the lovers that Angel sat you in front of, you failed to notice a stream of tears coming from your eyes.

Angel quickly took notice, pausing the TV immediately. “Woah woah woah, why’re you crying babe?” He plucked a tissue from the box beside his bed and dabbed underneath your eyes. Fuck. He didn’t think he’d be making you feel bad.

“Crying?” You brought a hand up to your cheek, surprised to find it damp. You marveled at the way the films made you feel, how imagining Alastor and yourself in their shoes made you feel, staring at the teardrops on your fingertips. “I- I feel like I understand. Like a want has just become a need. It’s truly wonderful. Like a breath of fresh air.” You smiled softly, moving to look into Angel’s eyes.

“Sheesh dollface, you had me worried.” Angel rolled his eyes playfully, internally relieved that he hadn’t just made an overlord cry, but most of all, that he hadn’t made a friend cry. “So now that you kinda get it, what’re ya gonna do?” You brainstormed for a second at the question, as it didn’t take long to figure out what would make Alastor the happiest.

“Alastor is a musical man.” You stated, instantly becoming more analytical and focused on the best way to get your feelings across to Alastor. “He’d never shy away from listening to a good song…” You trailed off.

“…so? Are you thinkin’ what I think you’re thinkin’?” Angel smiled smugly. He knew you sang to yourself during daily tasks, but you weren’t much of an extrovert, only making scenes when you had to establish your title as an overlord whenever demons seemed to forget. He imagined if you knew he could hear you singing in the shower next to his room, you’d be mortified. It was funny how you and Alastor could be so different, yet so alike, as Alastor was an extroverted entertainer.

“I’m thinking that in order to make him listen, and to make this special, I should sing for him. People always say the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but Alastor is quite adept at cooking. He wouldn’t need me for that.” You smiled to yourself, thinking back to times when Alastor would have you taste test a dish. Perhaps food was the way to your heart too, specifically his cooking.

—

Charlie was currently helping Alastor come up with sure fire ways to make you his officially (in his head you already were). Her notepad was filled with things her and Alastor knew you liked, hoping to put the information to good use.

Charlie had become wildly animated, smile stretched from cheek to rosy cheek. “You should tell her with a grand gesture! With fireworks and flowers and confetti and chocolates and singing and-“ Alastor raised a hand to stop her barrage of outlandish ideas.

“Charlie, I’m afraid that’s a bit too much.” Alastor stubbed out her sparkling ideas like a cigarette. While he was known to be grand in his executions (literal executions as well), he wanted this to be more personal. More intimate. Part of it was that he was incredibly shy about his romantic feelings for you, though he’d never let on to it. You were an intimidating woman, it was one of the reasons he fell in love with you, so he preferred to do this in private where no one could see his facial expressions. In addition to that, he knew how introverted you were in comparison to him; an incredibly private person.

“Okay, what about dinner at a super fancy restaurant? And flowers. You have to give her flowers.”

“And how do you propose I do that?” He summoned a rose, which had begun to rapidly wilt and die soon after the stem had touched his fingertips. It irked him. Something he previously didn’t have a problem with now stood in between him and your heart.

“Oh…” Charlie’s head hit the table. How was she supposed to help Hell’s population problem if she couldn’t even help Alastor express his romantic feelings for you? This was so hard.

“Fret not my dear, your dinner idea was exceptional! However, I think I should be the one to make the dishes.” A candlelit dinner with your favorite food being brought to you by him? You’d already expressed how much you enjoyed his cooking every time he held a spoonful of food up to your face. Feeding you and hearing you sing his praises on another culinary success made him feel as though he were floating. With you by his side, he was sure he wouldn’t have to walk anywhere ever again.

“That’s a great idea! I bet that would really impress her! And I can be the one to put the flowers on the table so they don’t wilt!” She clasped her face in between her hands, almost as if she was trying to stop her smile from getting any wider.

Immediately after establishing their plans, Alastor and his wing-woman Charlie had begun to research the best recipes pertaining to your tastes.

This had to be absolutely perfect, Alastor thought.

—

Music. It was what you and Alastor had bonded most over. He showed you Jazz’s greatest artists, the pioneers of brassy sounds, and you adored his passion in the genre. You listened to what you liked, as simple as that sounds. Your tastes often surpassed any one genre, and you found yourself dipping your hooves into anything; even just to give it a chance.

If music had brought you so close to Alastor, surely it would bring you even closer. Once you left Angel’s room, you dove into your collections of vinyl and CDs you acquired over your time in Hell. The greatest hits pertaining to love flooded your room, and you listened intently to the lyrics. Looking down at the notepad in front of you, you began to write about the way Alastor made you feel. This had to be absolutely perfect, you thought.

—

A couple days passed, and as Alastor opened the door to his hotel room to step out and retrieve the suit he was having pressed, a note taped onto it caught his ruby sight. With an eyebrow raised, he skeptically plucked the note from his door and began to read it.

“Dearest Alastor,

I hope you’ll find the time to come to the ballroom located in the hotel at 6pm. I’ve made a gift for you, and I’m hoping you’ll accept.

From,

Y/N”

You sat writing many iterations of that damned letter. Was “With love” too much? “Forever yours” most certainly was, no matter how true it was. “Sincerely” was stupid. Maybe you should just keep it simple.

“From, Y/N.” Simple. Simply stupid. But you went with it anyway.

Alastor’s heart leaped up to his throat, he was sure if he opened his mouth, it would jump out and find its way towards you. He retreated back into his room, opening one of the drawers he dedicated to you. It was filled with notes containing songs you’ve written down for him, and songs he wrote down that you recommended verbally. The wilted rose he wished so desperately to give to you that was used as a demonstration to Charlie on why he couldn’t. Receipts from outings you two accompanied each other on, and his ticket from your trip to the movie theatre that was playing one of your favorite movies at the time. He truly tried his best to pay attention to the silver screen, but he mostly found himself enamored with the way the light from the screen lit up your face.

He gently placed his newest treasure in the drawer, excited to see what you had in store for the night. Though, on the other hand, he was a bit nervous and disappointed. He’d planned on picking up all of the ingredients for a dish that would knock your socks off, in addition to picking up his pressed suit. If you had something to give to him, he wouldn’t have time to cook this night. His heart and shadow were getting antsy, the latter outwardly showing his deepest desires which he adamantly detested. He’d catch his shadow practically making heart eyes at you, and Alastor found himself wishing he would wave his hands at it to make it diminish like cigarette smoke in the air.

No matter! Perhaps after whatever you had planned, he’d ask you to a dinner cooked and presented by him. Closing the drawer, he made his way out to the dry cleaners to ensure he wouldn’t forget his suit when the time came to woo you. However, what he did forget, was letting Charlie know of this change of plans, who had already helped in setting up a table for two with red roses and unlit candles in a candelabra sitting in the center; all set up in the very room you wished to deliver your gift.

—

You had spent quite some time writing your song dedicated to Alastor, and soon after its completion, you enlisted the help of your souls-turned-shadows to play instruments and do background vocals. There was no way in Hell you’d allow a demon to aid in this. You rehearsed a few times before deeming it a perfect performance that you were willing to give to Alastor. The time was now a little after 4, and you decided to get ready.

Your hair was curled, makeup to your liking, and you wore a black tea-length dress with an abundance of white tulle underneath the skirt to make it flare out more. The sweetheart neckline sported a small, white, satin bow in the center. You slipped on a shiny pair of black kitten heels, opting for more of a comfortable dress shoe - your nerves were sure to make you incredibly uncomfortable, so you attempted to counteract that a bit by making your physical self as comfortable yet stylish as it could be. As a finishing touch, you clasped a string of pearls around your neck. They were a gift from Alastor when he found out that it was your birthday. You told him you didn’t need anything, and that birthdays sort of lost their meanings when you lived for so long in Hell, but he wouldn’t hear any of it, adamantly telling you that your birth was something to be celebrated. If you had figured out your feelings for him by then, you’re sure you would have kissed him.

You turned to look into the mirror wondering if Alastor would think you looked nice. Nervously, you made your way to Angel’s room beside yours. Hesitantly you knocked, opening the door when a muffled “come in” prompted you to.

“What’s up toots? Hey! Don’t you clean up nice!” He exclaimed, getting up from his bed and taking your hand to spin you around, dress flaring out around you as you spun.

“You don’t think it’s too much? Or too little?” You looked into Angel’s mirror, your hands worrying over any perceived imperfection. Angel once more grabbed your hands to stop them from flying around.

“Girl, you look great, and I know he’ll think so too.” He quelled your nerves. Then you did something out of character, you hugged him. Initially taken aback, Angel’s arms tightened around you.

“Thank you Angel.”

—

Alastor arrived at 6 on the dot. Not always punctual, never late, and always on time. Although he did want to arrive at the ballroom earlier, he didn’t want to seem too eager, even though he most certainly was. His excitement rolled off of him in waves, making the demons he met along the way to pick up his suit even more uneasy than usual.

When he walked through the grand doors, he saw his little setup that he and Charlie planned to set up for the dinner date. He contemplated hiding the table, conjuring a portal to a shadow dimension and pushing the evidence of his feelings for you into the dark abyss, but before he could act on this, he heard the clicking of heels making their way across the stage portion of the ballroom.

You were a vision, and he considered pinching himself as he thought he was looking at an angel. He hadn’t mistakenly enrolled in the redemption program, did something good, and then made his way upstairs, did he? You stood in front of a silver microphone, your hands shakily grasping it to keep yourself steady. Alastor clumsily grasped the back of one of the chairs meant for the two of you, slowly lowering himself into the seat and never taking his eyes off of your form.

“My gift is a song I’ve written with you in mind.” You said simply, and although you outwardly looked as confident as you always did, internally you were sure you were dying a second time.

The sounds of a glockenspiel sounded throughout the room signifying the beginning of the song, followed by background vocals singing “Anyone.” You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and stepping closer to the mic before beginning your song.

“You can blame me,

Try to shame me,

And still I'll care for you,

You can run around,

Even put me down,

Still I'll be there for you,”

You knew he’d never do these things to you, but you wanted to tell him that no matter the hardships, you’d always be there for him. Alastor’s heart was beating faster than it ever had before, was this a love song? No…

“The world

May think I'm foolish,

They can't see you,

Like I can,

Oh but anyone,

Who knows what love is,

Will understand”

It’s amusing to think that not too long ago, you were someone who didn’t understand. But here you are now, singing that you couldn’t care less about what others would think if they knew the depths of your feelings for Alastor.

Speaking of the devil, these blasted eyes of his kept fogging up, making it difficult to see you. Nobody has ever done this sort of thing for him, and he was absolutely enamored with your voice and the lyrics you wrote about him. He gripped the chair that he was sitting in, afraid he’d float away and miss the rest of your carefully crafted performance. He’d never seen you with so much emotion on your face, these visual feelings you possessed highlighted by pink and red lights. He would’ve been grateful for the color choice, as it hid his bright red face, but he couldn’t find it in him to care, much less even notice the effect you had on him. All he could see and hear was you, and he wanted it to be that way forever.

“I just feel so sorry,

For the ones,

Who pity me,

'Cause they just don't know,

Oh they don't know what happiness and love can be,”

You opened your eyes to stare into Alastor’s as you delivered the next few lines.

“I know,

I know to ever let you go,

It's more,

Than I,

Could ever stand,

Oh but anyone,

Who knows what love is,

Will understand”

You thought about how Angel had helped you understand in his own strange way, and this verse was almost like a thank you note to him. The music began to lull as you sang the last few lines.

“Oh they'll understand,

If they try love they'll understand,

Oh try to understand”

The last line was for Alastor, and you almost prayed he would try and understand your feelings for him, and hopefully realize any feelings he had for you.

The song had finally finished, and if Alastor had a time machine he’d travel three minutes into the past in order to hear you sing again. Then he’d do it over and over and over again. Making your way down from the stage, Alastor shot up from his seat. He’d rehearsed how he’d proclaim his undying love for you, but now that you’d done it first, he was scrambling.

He panicked. He actually panicked. He ripped the red roses from the vase sat on table and held them out to you, the both of you watching in shock (Alastor mostly in horror) as the roses had the life sucked out from their stems and the vase tipped over causing water to spill onto the floor between you both. His smile tightened, eyes snapping shut as he debated teleporting far, far away from here; never to return. But his jumbled and anxiety ridden thoughts were cut short when he felt soft hands gently pry open his larger ones, taking the flowers. It was you, and you were smiling the biggest smile he’d ever seen you make, and it was directed at him.

You lifted the dead roses to your face and inhaled the remnants of their floral scent, and Alastor’s heart melted at the gesture.

“Your song was wonderful my dear. May I ask for an encore?” He said, shyly. Your cheeks turned rosy, and you bashfully looked away.

“You didn’t think it was ridiculous?” You asked hopefully, tightly clutching your dead bouquet.

“Ridiculous? It was nothing of the sort! For a moment I thought I was in Heaven and I was most-“

You tugged him down by the collar of his shirt and pressed an unsure kiss to his lips. His ears stood straight up, tail secretly wagging behind him, just as yours did. He melted into the affectionate gesture, moving his claws to cradle your neck and the small of your back in order to bring you closer. Pulling away, you lovingly gazed into each other's eyes.

“Y/N, your performance was absolutely astounding. I’d trade every vinyl in my collection for just a second more.” And that was the truth. He was sure no song would ever compare to the masterpiece you crafted for him. Because of him.

“Then I suppose I’ll just have to record it and have it pressed just for you. You wouldn’t happen to know a guy with recording equipment, would you?” You flirted.

“My darling, of course I do! He’s quite the catch too, though using the equipment comes with a price.” He smiled smugly, cheeks just as red as yours.

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“You’ll have to allow him to call you his girl, it’s just the rules my darling.” Internally, he was nervous you’d reject him. Why? You just wrote, composed, and performed an entire song for him. But it was you. Anyone would be lucky to have you, and he couldn’t believe quite yet that you returned the feelings he’d been trying to grapple with for some time.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving a kiss mark (one he’d refuse to wipe off for some time). “I’d love nothing more.”

—

Later that night, Alastor and you had retired to your room. You sat at the end of your couch, his head resting in your lap as you told each other stories about what you had stupidly done in the name of your unknown love for each other.

“It’s funny, that table was in the ballroom because I planned on taking you on a dinner date tonight. Charlie lent a hand in planning it.” Alastor revealed.

You tilted your head at the fact that Alastor too had a “wingman” as Angel had put it. “Charlie? How funny, Angel helped me with some things too. He actually helped me realize my feelings for you.”

“Charlie helped me the same way. She said that you obviously fancied me.” He had a smug smile on his face, looking for your reaction.

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline at the allegation. “What? How? Was I truly that obvious?”

“Yes, well, a little birdy told me about a certain carpet incident with Mimzy, my darling.” That was his favorite story. He’d often imagine you glaring angrily at a clueless Mimzy, lifting a manicured claw and causing the poor blonde’s face to harshly meet the floor.

You turned your nose up indignantly. “Incident? I was merely helping her get a better look at the carpet she continuously complimented you on picking out.” You huffed, crossing your arms. Alastor laughed at your adorable behavior, loving the jealousy that came off you in waves at the mention of Mimzy.

“Don’t worry my love, no other woman could compare to you. Anyone who knows what love is could see I only have eyes for you.”

—♥️—

I hoped you all enjoyed that, and I really appreciate the love you all gave to part 1!

Taglist: @alastruist @martinys-world @ustulia

[ashbye]

Fashion Show

-Look y'all I know I've been gone but I had a vision ok it came to me while I was doing yard work and I had to so enjoy. There's plot guys 🤚😔

Summary: While on a run you find something that would be the perfect surprise for Daryl. You show him and are very happy with the outcome.

-It's smutty oops 18+ 🤭 and not beta read. There's swearing so prepare yourselves. I HATE THE WORD PANTIES SO IM NOT WRITING IT! Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

-Alexandria era (probably) and I am a women so its she/her (sorry)

It had been a while since you'd gone outside of the walls so you jumped at the chance to go on a run. Although you had wanted Daryl to join you he was unfortunately busy. Maggie and Michonne were joining you today so you can't complain.

After gathering the needed weapons and equipment you headed with the girls to a mall nearby that hadn't been checked thoroughly yet.

You got to the mall in record time with Michonne driving. Grabbing your machete in your hand and putting your gun in its holster, you got out of the car walking to the entrance behind Maggie.

"Why are we back here again I thought some guys had cleared it out already?" You asked turning to Michonne.

"They said there was too many walkers to get too far in do we're checking again."

You turned towards the door with a hum sound and raised your machete, walking into the mall. After scoping out the front the three of you found the mall to be almost completely empty aside from a few stray walkers that could be taken care of when you came across them.

Maggie turned to you both, "I say we split up, cover more ground."

You nodded before walking ahead as you all separated. Most stores you had looked through had been cleared out over time. There was a shirt here, a pair of socks there, but other than that it was a bit of a bust.

Until you saw a sign to a store ahead of you to your right. "No fucking way..."

You picked up the walkie talkie on your hip and called to Maggie and Michonne. "You guys are not gonna believe what I just found."

"What is it?" Michonne asked urgency in her tone.

"Either of you need any new bras?"

"Obviously, why?" Maggie was incredibly confused by now. You laughed before responding again.

"Go straight and take a right you'll find me. You need to see it to believe it." You put the walkie back after hearing Michonne say she's on her way.

You turn to the approaching footsteps and laugh. "Isn't it great? A Victoria Secret practically over flowing with unused bras and underwear!" Maggie smirked at you "You wanna find something special for Daryl huh?"

Michonne laughed at your expense but you couldn't care less because you're pretty sure you've been wearing the same bra for 2 months now.

And, duh of course you're gonna find stuff for Daryl. You're a loving girlfriend why wouldn't you get a present for him when you're on a run?

"Uh hell yeah I am! If I can find something to make me look sexy for my man of course I'm gonna take it!" You speed walk into the store with the girls following you chuckling.

You hold up a beautiful red set. It's lace would compliment her skin perfectly, you think. "Michonne, if you don't take this home for Rick, I will riot." You hold up to the girls so they can look at it.

"Oh please get that!" Maggie practically begs Michonne. "Alright I'll take it!" Michonne says with a smikr on her face after holding it up to her body.

The rest of the 'shopping spree' goes similarly, with you each holding up sheer and lace bras and panties for the others to take home and wear.

You found quite a few for yourself to surprise Daryl with later. You carefully put them in your bag with a smile.

After your escapade at Victoria Secret you all successfully grabbed every useful thing you could find and packed it into the car.

You were almost shaking with excitement when you got home, the clothes feeling like a thousand pounds in your bag.

It wasn't until everything you found that day was sorted through and put where it was supposed to be that you could go back home to Daryl. You walked through the door calling out to him that you were back. "Hey Darlin'. How was the run?" The familiar gravelly voice said from behind you.

You turned to him with a smile and placed your hands on his hips. You gave him a long kiss with a smile. "It went really well. I have a surprise for you actually." You pulled away from his face with only a few inches of space between you two.

"Surprise?" He asked with a vaguely shocked face.

You hummed with a smirk on your face. "Yeah after dinner I'll show you what your present is."

"So it's an after dinner kinda gift huh?"

You nodded before pulling away from him to hide the gifts in your bedroom. "I promise it'll be worth the wait."

It's now dark outside and Daryl is sitting on the front porch smoking a cigarette. You walk up to him and sit down, leaning your head on his shoulder with a sigh.

You sit in silence for a moment before looking up at him. "Are you ready for your surprise Dar?"

He blew smoke out of his mouth before taking the cigarette from between his lips. "Hell yeah baby." He said before grabbing your hand and pulling you up with him.

You lead him to your bedroom with a laugh excitement flowing through both of your veins. Once the door was closed behind you both you turned and gave him a searing kiss. He grabbed your hips tightly with a hum in the back of his throat.

You slowly pulled away and pushed him onto the side of the bed. "I'm gonna give you a little fashion show. How does that sound?"

He looked up at you with a slight nod before you gently slid away from him. You went to the bathroom and put on the first set you got. It was white lace with a black lace flower pattern.

You slowly cracked the door to stick out your head. "You ready?"

"Been ready Darlin'."

The door was slowly pulled away to showcase your body that you had draped across the doorframe. You smirked at him when you saw his eyes slightly widen.

"What do you think Dar?" You slowly turned you body to show him the whole thing.

"Well shit..." he was almost speechless. He wasn't sure how long he'd last. And this was only the first one!

You walked toward him and placed your hands on his shoulders. "You like it?" Your smirk had yet to wipe from your face.

"I- uh yeah ya look-" he could barely even get the words out. He could only look up and down your body with lust clouding his brain.

"I have a couple more for you to take a look at." You pulled away from him and walked back to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Daryl could barely process the fact that you even left the room.

Meanwhile, you're giggling to yourself like a schoolgirl in the bathroom at the look on his face. Once you were ready you opened the door again, looking at Daryl.

This time you're wearing a dark purple set. It had sheer lace with small lime green polka dots. "What do you think about this one? It's a little different." You said, walking up to Daryl.

"I like it." He said, eating you with his eyes like you were his last meal. You chuckled at him before doing a spin.

He nodded his head looking like his head was in the clouds. You gave his cheek a kiss with a small smile on your face. Walking backwards to the bathroom you closed the door and prepared the next one.

You walked out wearing a pale yellow lace set that had cute little bows on the front. It was less revealing but Daryl liked it just as much as the others. You could only stare as you walked up to him. Completely mesmerized with how beautiful you looked.

He wanted to worship you like a goddess. He would kneel at your altar for the rest of eternity if it meant that you would give him even a fraction of the love and elegance you grace him with everyday. You could be covered in blood and walker guts or be wearing the prettiest pale yellow lingerie he's ever seen and he would still think you're the most exquisite women he's ever seen.

"Ya're beautiful." He said, it was the only thing the connection between his brain and mouth could compute.

And you were just fine with that.

"Yeah?" You ask with a big smile on your face. He nods with a small raspy yeah that makes you chuckle. "If this one is your favorite I'll keep it on so you can make love to me or fuck me however you want."

"However I want?" He seemed almost surprised.

"However you want. We can be all slow and tender or you can fuck me so dumb I'm cock drunk. How does that sound?"

Daryl couldn't even come up with words before he stood to full height in front of you and grabbed under thighs. He turned and played you on your back, pressing his mouth to yours in a heated kiss. His hands ran up and down your legs searching for a hold.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as a moan left your mouth. Your tongues pressed together and you gave him all control. Daryl moved you up so your head was on the pillow. He took off his vest and threw it to the side before movie his mouth to your neck. He left kisses and bites up the column of your throat.

Small sighs left your mouth and your hands ran up and down his chest. Your fingers started unbuttoning his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. You threw his shirt off to the side and it's lost to floor somewhere with his vest.

His hand made it's way up to the band of your underwear. His fingers slipped past the band and pulled it away from you skin. You yelped when Daryl let it snap back onto your skin.

His hand finally sunk past the band of your underwear and grazed your clit. You let out a sigh and brought you hand to his face to bring your lips to his. He let out a groan when you lightly bit his lip. Your leg jolted as he continued to make small circles on your clit.

You moaned again and pulled away from his lips as his fingers dipped down. "Dar please!" Left your mouth like a mantra as you gripped his shoulders and your legs pulled him closer.

"Hold on Darlin' gotta make sure ya're good and ready yeah?" His movements became faster as he felt you're pussy grip his fingers. You nod as moans leave your mouth from the feeling.

"Dar I'm gonna-" your sentence went unfinished as you felt the coil in your stomach snap. Daryl kissed you through your orgasm as your body finally relaxed. He gently slid the bottoms down your legs and onto the floor before unclipping you bra and placing it next to it. You were panting under him as his hands went to his pants. He had stripped down before you could even offer any help.

He looked in your eyes as he lined himself up with your cunt. "Ya ready baby?" You nodded as you wrapped your arms around his chest. "Yeah, yeah I'm ready." You said in a reassuring tone.

He slowly slid himself into you. "So wet baby. Taking me so good." He played his body on top of you and used his forearms to hold him over you. You sat with him for a second to get used to his size. With a nod from you he started to slowly grind his hips into yours.

Small whimpers left your mouth as his speed increased. He let out heavy breaths and groans along with his thrusts. "Fuck Dar-" you moaned as you nails dug into his back.

"I got ya baby, I got ya"

His hips got faster as you both got closer to release. Your legs locked around his hips to keep him close. "Please baby, cum inside please!" Your eyes were screwed shut tightly as Daryl's jaw hung open in pleasure.

Your pussy gripped his cock as the coil tightened for the second time tonight. "Come on Darlin' cum for me" he said to you. Your nails dragged down his back leaving angry red lines on his skin.

He let out a groan at the sting as his hips stuttered. "Holy shit Daryl!" You said as your orgasm washed over you completely. The squeezing of pussy sent Daryl over the edge as he finally let go with a loud moan. His head fell next to yours as his hips slowed, helping you ride out the wave of pleasure.

The room was quiet aside from the breaths leaving you and Daryl. He slowly pulled out of you as his cum poured out of you. He kissed your cheek and neck as his had brushed your hair out of your face. "Ya did such a good job Darlin'."

You looked up at him as you softly kissed his lips and held his face in your hand. He rolled onto his back next to you. He turned you with him so your head was on his chest.

After calming down you look up to him with tired eyes. "I love you Daryl Dixon."

He looked to you with pure love and adoration in his eyes, "I love ya too Darlin'. So much."

You layed back on his chest as you held eachother in the quiet of the night. Even though the world had practically ended, you had never felt safer and more loved than you did when you were in Daryl's arms.

[velarisnightsky444]

Scorched Shadows Part 4

Eris x AzrielSister!Reader

Summary: Y/N is the younger sister of Azriel. She has shadows just like him, and is also a spymaster for Rhys. When she meets Eris, she initially hates him, but everyone knows how that goes. This takes place before Under the Mountain.

It's been a while, so quick summary. In part 2, he found her spying but let her go, under the bargain that she owed him a favor. In part 3, he sent a letter inviting her to a ball in Autumn as that favor. Her brothers forbade it, and out of spite, she decided to go.

Series Masterlist

part 3 || part 5(upcoming)

»»————-　♔　————-««

You looked gorgeous, if you did say so yourself. You had stolen a dress from Mor's closet, enchanting it to fit your wings. Your brothers would've lost their minds if they say you in it.

You knew it was too scandalous for the Autumn Court, but you also knew that Eris had only invited you to irritate you. So you would irritate him right back.

You stared down at the leaf shaped tattoo on your wrist as your shadows whispered to you, warning you not to go. To you, if it pissed your brothers off, it would be worth it.

You quietly climbed out of your window, jumping off of the windowsill and letting your wings catch the wind. You didn't want to ruin your hair, so you just got far enough from the House of Wind to winnow.

You landed in front of the Forest House where you found yourself surrounded by Autumn Court High Fae. Some of them shot you looks, likely due to your lesser Fae heritage, and your shadows. But you ignored them, glancing around until your eyes caught Eris's.

His smirk made you want to claw at his face. But you let him make his way towards you, though you glared at him with every step he took.

You couldn't deny how handsome he looked. His hair was combed neatly, his suit was black with an emerald coat and tie.

"Shall we?" was all he said, holding an arm out to you. You scowled, but took it. "I'm surprised you agreed."

"I only agreed to annoy my brothers," you said, hoping to humble him.

"And how does your cousin feel?"

You yanked your arm away from him at the words, a truly hateful glare twisting your face and pointing in his direction.

"You don't deserve to even speak of her," you said to him.

He didn't reply. He just gripped your arm again, tugging you into the ballroom.

The ballroom was gorgeous, tiles of gold and walls of marble. Fae all around wore fancy suits and gowns. A few of them had to dodge your wings, shooting you dirty looks as they did so. You just glared back at them.

Eris didn't speak a word to you as his hand slipped around your waist, his other joining with your scarred hand. You begrudgingly began to dance, only because you could imagine the looks on your brothers faces if they were to see you.

“Why did you invite me here?” you demanded.

“You really pissed me off in that forest,” he said to you. “It seemed only fair the favor you owed me be something that pissed you off, as well.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you danced with him.

You noticed a couple beside you whispering to each other as they eyed you. It hit you then why he had invited you.

He was trying to embarrass you. He knew everyone would stare and judge you for being Lesser Fae. For your darker skin. For your shadows. For your Night Court fashion.

“I wouldn’t think your father would be too happy about you inviting me to this,” you said, your shadows sticking close to you.

“My father doesn’t care who I fuck,” he replied. “Just who I marry.” Your eyes went wide, and you shook your head.

“Sex is not part of the arrangement,” you reminded him.

“Of course not,” he assured. “But people will assume. And talk. And if my father gets word, he won't care.”

“He sure seemed to care who your mother was fucking,” you shot back.

You didn’t know if the rumors were true, but everyone spoke of his mother and Helion. And everyone talked of how Beron found out.

“What did I tell you about saying a word against my mother?” he snarled, his entire demeanor changing as his grip on your waist tightened.

“You invited me here to humiliate me,” you replied smoothly. “I will say what I please.”

“I don’t know what gives you that idea,” he denied. “Besides, you and your brother are bastard born, so they say. I can only assume the worst of your own mother.”

“You know nothing of my mother or the conditions under which I was born,” you replied, face heating.

You thought of your mother, the female that you had only been able to see once a week for the first six years of your life. You hadn't spoken a word to her in those years, your trauma rendering you speechless until you were eleven.

But she had loved you. She would hold you during that hour, letting you nuzzle your face in her neck as she stroked your hair and sang to you.

Now, she lived in a house Azriel had bought for her. You went to visit her at least once a month. She was everything to you. She and Az were all you had for so long.

Hearing Eris insult her struck something deep in you. Your sweet mother had been insulted enough, having two children out of wedlock. She'd been shunned, shamed, and tormented. She didn't deserve any of it.

Eris was studying you as you lost yourself in your thoughts. You glanced back at him, eyes narrowing.

"Neither of us will speak of the other's mothers," you said simply.

"Fine," he agreed.

The dance was one you'd never learned. But he was leading, and you were picking it up quickly. He spun you around, then dipped you.

As you glanced up at him, you noticed how beautiful his amber eyes truly were. You stared into them, your brows furrowing. Something was tying you to him . . . something palpable.

You gasped as something snapped into place, a string going taut between you two.

"Mate mate mate," your shadows whispered.

His eyes went wide, wild, as you tore yourself from his grip.

"Wait--" he insisted.

But your shadows had winnowed you away before he could say another word.

»»————-　♔　————-««

taglist: @the-sweet-psycho @hnyclover @lilyevansstudygroup @esposadomd @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria

[jujutsusimp]

Gojo & Toji relationships with marriage

So I thought about characters relationships with marriage for my latest SMAU You called them “my husband” while ordering food for them. I will probably do a more detailed post about Gojo and Toji backstories at some point, but right now I felt like expanding on my thoughts for the SMAU itself.

It’s silly, but I really try to be as in character as possible when I do my SMAU and sometimes I will think a lot about why they would do this or that, so for this one, I wanted to develop a bit on it, it often brings good conversation^^

Gojo and marriage

I think Gojo hates marriage because of all the pressure he felt on his shoulder from his clan to get a wife and an heir asap. He completely rejected the injunction, not wanting to have one more responsibility on his back. Despite that, I don’t think he hates the idea of marriage in itself as a love commitment. He 100% fantasizes about carrying you bride style out of the venue in your pretty dress, calling him husband. Gojo might look super extravert, but I don't think he is very good at expressing his true feelings deep down, so marrying you is a way to show just how much he is committed, but just the idea of dealing with his family gives him hives.

We know nothing about his clan (even if there are other members alive), but considering what we know about Kamo/Zenin, I am convinced they are insufferable traditionalists and would get very noisy about the whole thing. The second you become his wife, you get tons of expectations to behave in a certain way and become the perfect housewife, of course, he would back you up on it, but it will be exhausting. (Also, his family will probably look down on you if you are not from a lineage of Sorcerer but at this point, they are so desperate to get him married that they will suck it up.)

Toji and marriage

I don’t think Toji is especially superstitious, but I am under the impression he has really bad luck. From day one, with his heavenly restriction and shitty childhood to gamble (I have the feeling he never wins when he gambles), We know he lost his first wife soon after Megumi birth, and we don’t know what happened to Tsukimi’s mom, but since she suddenly disappeared, I am assuming she is dead. It’s unclear if he married some of the other women he courted in between, but it’s possible since Gege clearly says it’s a literal gold digger.

But I also think Toji really loved Mamaguro, and is really traumatized by her death. His life afterward sucked too. So, I liked the idea of him being really happy now that he found you which makes him really scared to jinx himself and to lose his happiness again if things get too serious.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for complimenting my friend behind her back?

🙎‍♀️

I have 2 friends. We’re all in our 20’s. Mary* and Suzy* are both my friend but have history. I’m close to Mary even though I’ve known Suzy same amount of time, but Suzy and I have recently started to hang out more.

I know both girls aren’t giving me the full drama what happen when I ask. Basically they use to be friends and then Suzy ghosted Mary. Suzy told me they were friends, but Mary started using her as a a punching bag and Suzy let it go on for too long and no longer wanted to be her friend. She didn’t offer repair of their relationship because she thought the friendship had runned its course. What I don’t know is what was Mary doing? Like what are some examples. Mary tells me Suzy just stopped talking to her one day and started hanging out with more “sucessful” people. Suzy has always been an extrovert while Mary likes to stay in more.

Anyway I’ve been hanging out with Suzy a lot. She often accommodates me (drives me, or pays for the Uber) she’ll often buy my meal. Suzy also has a lot of good anxiety advice which I was suprised about and she’s a good listener. It makes me sad that she doesn’t like Mary because I think Mary does need someone like Suzy in her life. I know Suzy has a little more deeper feelings than just “we were done so I just left” because it seems like reconnection is not an option. I just feel like Suzy doesn’t want to paint Mary in a bad light because she knows Mary and I are friends.

I have mentioned reconnection but Suzy always declines. Mary secretly not out right but has expressed she wouldn’t mind reconnecting with Suzy. Shes said “maybe we should all get together sometime.” Shell ask if Suzy talks about her (she doesn’t).

I was able to get them together a few times for a few events. Suzy was very surface level with her just asking her how she is but not getting deep. Mary had actual said a few passive things about herself and Suzy. Suzy wouldn’t respond to the passive aggressive to herself or she would say something postive about Mary when Mary was self deprecating.

At my last event Suzy got drunk and Mary had offered to drive her home since Mary was sober. It was like Mary had genuinely wanted to talk to her alone and maybe clear the air. Suzy declined her offer four times (she was getting an Uber)

After that event Suzy had told me she doesn’t really want to see Mary and I asked her why and she said she just doesn’t like being around her. I tried to pry a little more and Suzy just told me she very much values my friendship but doesn’t want to hangout with Mary.

Mary has actually been mad that Suzy didn’t accept her car ride offer home. Mary was mad that Suzy would rather pay an overpriced cab than spend a 20 minute car ride with her. That I understood. But then Mary started going deeper saying that Suzy isn’t smart with her money and has always been stuck up, that she would rather Suzy be hateful to her face and not behind her back, and that Suzy is just a coward.

I felt bad because I know Mary has unresolved feelings about Suzy, but I realized that Suzy had probably been keeping the peace for me.

My next hang out with Mary she was digging into Suzy’s character saying she drinks too much and partied too much. I told Mary she doesn’t give Suzy enough credit, Suzy is very understanding and kind and generous and that her partying and drinking doesn’t make her a bad person. Mary went quiet.

Mary didn’t talk to me for a week and then apologized. She said Suzy is a sore subject and that me being friends with her is hard because she wishes she could ask me not to be friends with her but won’t because Suzy does make me happy and it seems like Suzy isn’t actively out to ruin our friendship. She doesn’t want to hear about Suzy when we’re together.

I feel bad because it wasn’t until early in my reconnection with Suzy I knew she was a sore spot for Mary. I thought if I got them together they could be friends again, but the more Suzy backs away the more Mary gets angry, and I don’t know whose really justified since they both don’t tell me full stories. But I also feel like I really triggered Mary when I defended Suzy because I had known she felt rough about that rejection and I just didn’t let her vent on it .