#if anyone would pay attention enough to notice and intrigued enough to learn it would be eve the fashionista (among many other things)

[reiderwriter]

NSFW Prompt Requests - I’m in dyer need of 127 or 150 if you’d be so kind?🥵

A/N: I feel like I say "I got a bit carried away" in every single one of these authors notes, but this one I think I really did...

Word Count: 3k

#127: "I can taste myself on you."

#150: "Stop clenching, baby, you're already tight enough as it is."

Summary: You're hot for teacher. So is every other girl on campus. Your Professor, however, is absolutely oblivious until you spell it out for him...

Warnings: Professor x Student, age gap, oral (M receiving), face-fucking, no birth control/ condoms, creampie, male whimpering and moaning mentioned a lot, PinV sex, both of them are Switches idc idc 18+ MINORS DNI

Check out my other stuff on my masterlist!

You had been in his class for around three weeks when you decided you couldn’t take it anymore. If you were going to keep up your GPA and progress in your grad programme, you were going to have to either drop the class with Professor Reid, or persuade him to put you out of your misery. 

You’d been intrigued by the course to start with, of course, which is why you’d picked up the criminology elective when it wasn’t a required class. But it was only available this semester as he was only Guest Lecturing while on leave from his job at the BAU, and getting that kind of insight from an actual industry professional rather than an academic really couldn’t hurt, right? You’d thought that until you’d seen him. 

Expecting some older man with a stuffy tone and a disdain for modern technology, you’d been roughly awoken when he walked into the lecture hall on the first day and you found yourself hanging on to his every word as he read through your syllabus. You were spot on with the technophobia, but for everything else, you were blissfully incorrect. He was, quite possibly, the hottest man you’d ever seen in your life. You weren’t secretive about your thing for older men, joking all the time about your “daddy kink,” but you’d never had a thing for one of your actual professors before, and it was driving you insane. 

It didn’t help that the word had travelled around the entirety of your campus as well, with multiple girls turning up to audit the class after the first week. You’d been green with envy since you’d seen them mooning over the man, and you’d felt disgusted with yourself almost instantly. He was your professor, he was damn good at his job, but he was so deliciously tempting that you couldn’t find it within yourself to actually pay attention in his classes. You knew it was only a matter of time until the man, who you realised was obviously blind to how attractive he was to a bunch of twenty-somethings with a penchant for danger and a willingness to try all kinds of new things, would catch on to how many of his students were openly lusting for him.

You hoped that you had learned enough in his classes on behaviour that you could accurately hide your feelings and thoughts, however sinful and objectively obvious they were. Your hopes were crushed on that fateful day three weeks into the semester. 

You’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed already. Your alarm hadn’t gone off, your clothes were all still wet inside the washing machine in your apartment meaning you had to throw on a short skirt and pray you didn't flash anyone, and your roommate hadn’t closed the fridge properly the night before, so the milk you wanted to use in your morning coffee had spoilt. After dragging yourself into class, the last thing you’d wanted to see was twice as many students auditing the class as the previous week. 

To give it to the man’s obliviousness, he hadn’t noticed until about two thirds of the way into the class, when he asked a student why they weren’t taking notes.  He’d seemed confused. You were almost furious that he didn’t know what effect he was having on you, on every girl in the vicinity, but, more importantly, you. Unable to help yourself, you let out a scoff that gained his attention. 

“Is there something wrong with the class materials Miss…” he trailed off, waiting for you to supply your name to him. 

“Oh, no, uh, Y/N. My name is Y/N, there’s nothing wrong, sir. I’m sorry.” His lips twitched as you replied, but he went on with his class, as you sunk into your chair in shame. You were going to have to drop the class now. He must hate you, or think you were stupid, or think that you hated him, and your thoughts were spiralling so out of control that you hadn’t noticed the class had ended, and he was calling up at you from the lecturing desk. 

“Miss Y/N, are you okay?” He asked, and his goddamned eyes were filled with such concern you hated that every part of your body was screaming with desire for him. Unable to respond, he tried again. 

“If you have the time, would you like to come talk to me in my office? I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener.” You should’ve said no, just based on the ridiculous scenes filling your mind, but you didn’t hesitate to nod your approval. You picked up your bags and made your way down the steps to where he was waiting with all of his stuff near the front door. He opened the door for you, and you felt your heart race as you awkwardly slid by him in the doorway. He had to be a fucking gentleman, too, right? 

You followed him as he made his way to his office, staying silent the entire way. He looked like he wanted to make small talk but didn’t know how, choosing instead to just mirror your silence. When you reached his office, he apologised for the mess and showed you inside, letting you take a seat on the couch whilst he put all his things away. The room was littered with books of all sizes, and you noticed that the titles didn’t seem to have one common subject linking them all, or even, in fact, seem to be written in the same language. You spotted a beaten up copy of War and Peace on his desk next to an obviously used coffee mug, and some paper files that looked to be the reading from that morning’s class. 

“Sorry, I didn’t exactly plan on having guests, uh, make yourself comfortable?” He asked it as a question, and loosened his tie as he said it. You stared at the small patch of skin on his neck, your eyes lingering just a moment too long before you remembered you were in a room with an actual FBI Profiler, and that if your thoughts were any louder, he’d handcuff you himself. As tempting as that was, you really didn’t want your Professor knowing about all the ways you’d imagined him fucking you. 

“Professor Reid, I’m sorry, I have to leave, and- and I think I have to drop out of the class.” You stood up suddenly, and he stood up too from his place at his desk, shocked at your sudden anxious outburst. 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, is there something wrong? Did I make you uncomfortable?” he asked taking a step closer to you, but you took a step back again, accidentally pressing your back against one of his many bookcases in your haste to avoid him. 

“Yes! I mean no, it’s not your fault that I’m uncomfortable. I’m not uncomfortable, really!” He had the look of a kicked puppy on his face now, and you realised this man would be the death of you. You weren’t even sure what it was about him that entranced you enough to stay and continue the conversation.

“I can’t focus in your classes, Professor,” you sighed out, letting your eyes drop with the embarrassing confession. 

“That’s perfectly fine, many people struggle to pay attention in college classes. Is there anything I can do in my lectures to accommodate to your needs?” Your eyebrows screwed up in frustration with his obvious professional kindness. 

“No, Professor, I’m sorry, unless you stop looking like that there’s nothing you can do.” You ran a stressed hand through your hair as you begged your mouth to shut and stay shut. 

“...What?” The confused tone in his voice let you know that he had no clue at all what you meant by your words, but he didn’t go further. You chanced a glance up at his face, and were met with a small blush rising to his cheeks, as you watched the words process in his brain. 

“Professor, every single person in that class that is attracted to men would kill to do absolutely sinful things to you. You’re like the campus’s collective wet dream right now. You had to know that, right?” You sigh out, finally putting the man out of his misery.

“Oh. No. No, no, I didn’t. Know that, I mean, I didn’t…Is that why there are so many people auditing the class? They want to…. Do that with me?” 

“Fuck you, Professor. They want to fuck you. You can say it, we’re both adults.” You resigned yourself to the fact that this conversation was probably going to haunt every waking hour for the rest of your life, and just let it happen, pushing through the cringe to help him come to certain realisations. 

“And that’s why you want to drop the class?” he asked finally, looking back up at you. 

“Yes.” 

“Because you want to…fuck me?” 

Your mouth dropped open at his words, as you desperately tried to back track, but all that came out was hot air and blubbering sounds as you felt your brain short circuit like his had just moments before. 

“I mean… I guess,” you finally stuttered out, your fight or flight instinct begging you to just run, but something deeper, something carnal planting you in position and making movement in that moment impossible. 

“Oh…. right.” He nodded at you, his lips spread in a thin smile as he nodded at you awkwardly. You stood there together in silence for a minute, but it became clear soon that the logical part of your brain was no longer in control of your mouth. 

“Can I?” you asked, almost startled at your own boldness. 

“Excuse me?” he said, his voice raising higher in tone at the incredulity of your statement. 

“Can I fuck you? If I do, maybe I’ll be able to, you know, pay more attention in class. Get it out of my system, you know.” Growing emboldened by your own words, you took another hesitant step towards him, reaching your hand up to gently touch his arm. His jaw clenched at the contact, but he didn’t move away, didn’t suggest you stop right there and forget this conversation ever happened. 

“Please, Professor Reid. Please fuck me,” you trailed the hand up his arm and back down his chest as he stood there just watching you beg for him. You discarded your bag on the chair, and keeping your eyes focused on his, trailed both of your hands down to his belt, slowly enough that he could push you away at anytime. 

“Do you know what you’re doing, Miss Y/N?” He asked quietly, and you smiled, finally happy to get a reaction from him. The smile had dropped from his lips and there was something suddenly dark in his tone that had you clenching around nothing. 

“Yes, Professor,” you said, letting your hands start working on his belt, undoing it agonisingly slowly as you watched him control his breaths. When you finally had it undone, you finally looked up at him again, and gave him a smile as innocent as you could muster. 

“You have my permission,” he whispered into your ears as he gently put a hand on your head and pushed you down to your knees, perching himself on the edge of the desk. You wasted no time then, desperate to live out each and every single one of your fantasies with him. Reaching into his pants, you found him already hard and pulsing, and you released his cock from its confines quickly. Spitting into your hand, you gave him a few quick strokes as you watched him grow even bigger under your touch. 

Letting out some sinful breathy moans, you looked up at him, head thrown back and eyes screwed shut as you finally reached your tongue out to lick at the tip of his cock. He twitched at the contact, and you felt the warmth pooling between your legs as you watched his each and every reaction. Finally wrapping your lips around him, you decided to put him out of his misery, sinking down on his dick an inch at a time until he was hitting the back of your throat. He was delightfully vocal the whole time, moaning and whimpering so much that you almost pulled off him completely and begged him to fuck you raw. But the taste of his cock was intoxicating and you wanted more and more of him. After a few minutes of your agonisingly slow pace, you felt his hips beginning to buck up to match your pace as he began to face-fuck you. He grabbed a handful of hair, and you did your best to relax your throat, stabilising yourself by placing one hand on his thigh and sinking deeper into your open hips on the floor. 

His eyes were still screwed close, but he was moaning out your name now, with a few expletives thrown in too, having done a complete 180 from the few minutes earlier when he’d hesitated to even say the F word in conversation. You felt he was getting close when he started thrusting deeper, sloppier in his movements and more breathy in his moans. He suddenly pulled out of your mouth and lifted you to your feet, bringing you face to face with him. 

“We didn’t… we didn’t say where I would, um…” he tried to say but you pushed up onto your toes and pressed a hot kiss to his mouth, your tongues quickly twinning as he returned it in kind. You stood there, lips locked and breathless in that space for quite some time, neither of you caring about the lack of oxygen you were getting. Finally, using the hand that was still fisted in your hair he pulled you away from his lips, and you whimpered pathetically at the loss of contact. 

“I can taste myself on you,” he panted into your neck as he held you close, the words sending a shiver down your spine and forcing another moan out of your mouth. The pain from his tight grip in your hair only heightened your pleasure as he moved his lips back to your exposed neck and continued his ministrations. 

“Please, professor….” you begged again, desperate for his attention. “Please fuck me.” 

Without removing his lips from your neck, he quickly moved the two of you back to the couch you’d been sitting on before, guiding you into his lap, his cock still hard and free from his pants. Your skirt spread open, and your hard landing meant you could feel all of him pressed against you. You thanked the gods for your suddenly well-timed laundry efforts as he grabbed the base of his cock and started teasing you through your panties. You were sure they were soaked through as you sat in his lap, grinding down on his perfect cock, his mouth still pressed into your neck. 

“Fuck me, please fuck me,” you moaned, and he complied, finally hooking a finger under the seam of your panties and moving them to the side as he pushed up into you with another throaty moan. 

“Yes, thank you. Thank you Professor, thank you.” You moaned out in bliss as you sank further and further down on him, pushing further than any man had been. before. 

“Stop clenching, baby, you’re already tight enough as it is,” he ground his teeth in a hiss, and you moaned at his words, the pervertedness of them shooting straight to your core. 

“Can’t…help myself. You feel so good, sir.” He started moving then, holding your waist as he started lazily thrusting upwards. After having your mouth wrapped around him, he knew that too much too soon would mean that this wouldn’t last long, and you had begged him nicely, so he wanted this to feel as good for you as it did for him. Gripping one of your hips tightly in one hand, he let the other fall under your skirt, and started pressing into your clit. You threw back your head at the contact and started riding him, matching each of his upward thrusts with a downward thrust of your own, letting his thumb gain speed as it followed you up and down. 

“Fuck, professor, thank you…I’m gonna cum, fuck, thank you so much,” you stuttered out as you could feel your orgasm rip through you, collapsing into his arms as he thrust quicker into you now. 

“Y/N, where… where should I….” His voice trailed off, and after a few seconds regaining your sanity after your climax, you finally answered the question he’d been desperately trying to answer.

“Inside… Inside me, Professor Reid, it’s okay…” he whimpered at that, at each thrust he pushed into you, his head falling to the crook in your neck and your hands stroking the hair at the base of his neck as you clenched around him again, finally pulling the desire out of him. He came noisily, even with his face buried in you, moaning so delightfully you knew the sound would be your new distraction for the next three weeks. 

When he finally regained his composure, he let his hands drop from your waist, his head rolled back on the couch, and you fell with him, wrapping yourself around him as if  you never wanted this coupling to end. You stayed there, head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, and drifted to sleep. 

You awoke an hour later, but there was no sign of the Professor. He’d cleaned you up somehow, because there was no unpleasant feeling between your legs, and he’d wrapped a blanket around you as you slept, making sure you were comfortable. Collecting your things and making to leave, you almost convinced yourself that it had all been another fantasy, and that you were becoming seriously delusional about the man. As you approached the door, however, you spotted a small note taped to the handle, and quickly pulled it into your hands. 

Miss Y/N, 

Thank you for visiting me today. I hope you decide to stay in the class, I certainly could learn a thing or two from you. 

- Spencer Reid. 

P.S. You’re lucky I’m an MIT Graduate with a job in the FBI. There’s a security camera in my office. 

[see-arcane]

Kiss Him No More

“Unclean, unclean! I must touch him or kiss him no more. Oh, that it should be that it is I who am now his worst enemy, and whom he may have most cause to fear.”

In which the connection between a sea-bound vampire, his new wine-press, and her husband is put to intriguing use.

Ao3 link here

He was on the water when it happened.

His hold on the woman was already in place, but hardly of use in that hellish period between Piccadilly and the ship. Too much to think of while preparing his final box, hardly a word worth eavesdropping on, and a general miasma of dull irritation blotting out his attention in-between. The only respite came when he allowed himself a dip into the day’s torpor to keep himself from turning ragged enough to lash out at the chattel. One of his sweeter dreams involved a future at the far end of this improvised game of limp-and-lure in which he made his return to fair England and treated himself to twisting off a few heads he’d so graciously allowed to stay on their owners’ shoulders despite their rudeness.

The charming fellow at the port for one. Perhaps the man tending the wolves for another. The latter was, if nothing else, a proper admirer of his beloved creatures. He might die quicker. Then the wolves could head to his seaside friend’s abode and eat the man down to the bone. Starting with his tongue. It was one cozy thought of many he nursed as he tried to smooth down his own hackles over this most insulting snag to an otherwise pristine entry to the country. Yes, he would return. Yes, he would untangle the snarls made of his precious tapestry. He knew, he knew.

Still, mortification burned in his chest like a coal.

Years of planning smashed like glass by idiot children. It enraged and embarrassed in the same blow. Would he have been so blindsided a century ago? Two? Three? He would swear he felt the ghosts of every foe jeering at him from the grave.

How low he has fallen! How lax he is! He would not notice the laurels he squats on have been swapped for wild rose until there was a holy rash on his backside!

Such would surely be his reception once he made it back to the castle. Oh, but his harpy loves would laugh until their crystal cackling turned hoarse. They would all have their penance to pay once he got home.

It was their fault, damn them. He had grown idle? He had let his guard down? He, who had spent an ordinary man’s lifetime arranging everything to exactness for England’s sake, was the lazy one when the most they could be bothered with was grudgingly consenting to learn the tongue? No. No, no, no. If anyone was to receive a lion’s share, pardon, a lioness’ share of guilt for this mess, it had to be the three pampered cats who had whined and paced and kicked up such a maddening fuss about having to be patient for two whole months to get their promised toy, only to let him vanish right out from under their claws.

No doubt they would have some excuse. They would huff and sniff and laugh. We searched so diligently for a whole half a night! Honest! He was just too fast for us!

He would hear it all patiently just prior to wringing them out like yowling dishrags.

“He was fast,” he murmured to himself in the box. The torpor was thinning now as sunset passed over the ship. Still a corpse, but one who might move. Just as he had once upon a time, turning his head for a parting smile at his good young friend with the spade in hand, complete with a little tickle of paralysis through the eyes. A gesture that had earned him his own farewell in the form of the scar still resting on his brow. A heavy strike for one with such depleted veins. It had been easy to laugh off then; blood for blood. His new playmates would surely have cheered the boy had they caught him.

Instead, Jonathan Harker had fled the castle and cut through the Carpathians like a knife to make it back to his England. To his woman. To a blade that would have seemed absurd to picture in his hand only a season ago, but had proven to fit him like another limb. Fast. So fast. So…

The memory flashed in him again, raw as the burn on the woman’s head.

The stalwart shepherd dogs’ hands weighty with the Cross. Jonathan’s strangling the kukri knife. How a single night had changed him! The dark locks gone silver-white, the eyes bright as melting coins. He had flown with his steel, a rush of speed and strength that would have unsewn a mortal man into a bleeding pile with one strike. Indeed, he had almost been that fool. Surprise and, yes, fine, he admitted it, laxness had him standing still and stupid as a doe not recognizing a hunter’s rifle. But he had moved at the last, losing a great cascade of wealth from his purse. Better that than his entrails.

Even when he was out the window and shouting his bile up at their whole lot, there had been no pause for the blazing Thing that was now Jonathan Harker. That Thing having taken advantage of the diatribe to slither out the broken pane and creep down the house’s side, a spider coming to share a helping of venom from its eager fang. Realization had struck in a cold and nearly dizzying blow as he watched the descent.

Where the solicitor’s fellows might mean to corral or corner, Jonathan Harker fully intended to kill him in broad daylight. Witnesses or no. This, when he could have no clue as to how his corpse would disintegrate to its rightful state. Jonathan could only think that he would look like a madman slaughtering a nobleman in a crowded street. And he did not care.

All this just for the woman.

The epiphany had struck like a strange boiling poison in his bowels. It did not cool even as he shot away, locked the gate at his back, and vanished into the crowd. Nor did it settle with the night, with the day after, or any of the hours to follow. The feeling was only ignored as he worked toward shipping himself back to his territory, dangling himself and the woman’s fate just enough so that she and the clever little cogs in her brain could turn and come to the obvious conclusion as if the daft old Count could surely never have thought to have his connection turned against him! He would leave the door open for her a good while before shutting her out. Let them scramble about on the Continent awhile until they thought they had a chance in the chase again. Follow the lame wolf, everyone, never mind his teeth.

He thought of Jonathan Harker’s teeth. Blunt and white and bared in a livid rictus of hate, hunt-maddened as those finest breeds born to cull the pests of farmers and rend the throats of bears. He tried to picture them as they should have been by now. Sharp as darning needles, the lips bloodstained, curled up by choice or command at the sight of him. A grin that should be waiting in the castle for him.

There was the boiling poison again. Its heat thawed the cold of him so wretchedly it might have liquefied him from the bones out. A poison that seared hotter with every thought of Jonathan Harker.

Jonathan Harker, who escaped.

Jonathan Harker, who hid away a full account of that summer stay and all the information worth gleaning out of his cordial host.

Jonathan Harker, who gave the vermin his name. His properties. The architecture of his entire endeavor, served on a silver plate, parsed out for swift consumption and destruction by the woman.

Jonathan Harker, whose company had, with bitterest irony, turned out to be the most pleasurable stretch of time he could recall out of the past six months. The Demeter had ended sloppily with the captain’s obstinate trick of the rosary, the ghost ship forced to crash. His first conquest on English soil, his supple Lucy, had annoyed almost more than it satisfied with those damned pet lovers circling her, all ended with she and her tomb now lost. Even the woman, his canny wine-press, had turned sour on his tongue.

He had at least seeded the expected despair. A crash of woe and a blow struck as first payment for the fools’ intrusion on his affairs. Plus a fine incentive to bring things to the necessary head in Transylvania. The bitch and her fellow dogs were duly kicked, now spurred to hunt him even as it enticed them back to his land of power. A game of keep-away put to the extreme. Come get me or I get her!

Supposing they did not put her down outright as they had his poor Lucy. But they would hold off, he knew, soft things that they were.

Even if they were otherwise, she still has him to make them reconsider. Or else deliver them into their own pits in the earth before they can think to scratch her with a stake.

He betrayed himself by grinning.

A man willing to skin a gentleman in the street for defiling his woman was also the same man to slaughter a friend who dared to raise a killing hand to her. Another happy hypothetical to mull over, though it too boiled. His grin faltered back to a sneer in the earthen dark.

Jonathan Harker, Jonathan Harker. What wouldn’t he do for his woman? More pressingly, what wouldn’t he do for his Master once she was reduced to his cudgel and collar? The notion brought a different warmth to him. A juvenile one that might have made him chuckle in better circumstances. Here he was again, an old man made abruptly young as Mr. Harker started strumming old desires awake.

But thoughts of those summer nights chafed as much as soothed now. All the delight was tainted with the haranguing of his future self: Now! Do it now! Don’t dally, don’t savor! Drink him as you take him! Let the women have their taste if you must, but finish it before he can slip into the wind!

All too late.

It was all he could do not to ram his fist against the dense wood of the lid. He was free to move now and it took true effort. Sunset had been and gone, the woman’s prying gone with it. She heard water. She felt his stillness. Through her eyes he could see them all: the shepherd dogs.

The old man he pictured with his skull bashed open, his scholarly acumen spilled like gruel upon a brick wall. The doctor he could see drunk dry and sent toddling back to the asylum, feasting through his patients like a plague. The little lordling would be ordered to wring the necks of all his dogs prior to opening a few dozen polished doors to his good friend Count De Ville. The American he would shoot full of holes before and after his turning, followed by sending him off to make arrangements on that further colonial shore.

And Jonathan Harker?

His dearest and most daring friend?

He would have a positive wonderland of activities to endure. His vocabulary would be whittled down to precisely three words in the years to come.

Mina! Master! Mercy!

The ship lurched to one side and shouldered him against the left of the box. He chewed on a curse and sent up a demand to the sky to settle its breeze down. Then, scenting that there were no crewmen among the cargo, he let himself leak out. Man to mist, mist to man. He stalked where there was space to stalk and climbed where there wasn’t, simply needing to move. This came with the needling memory of the zoo and its wildcats sulking and skulking behind their bars. Another curse was caught in his teeth. A third, a fourth. He almost struck out at a random crate when something struck him first:

A sudden flare of sensation from the woman.

Curiosity made him reach out before he’d even registered what the sensory shock came from. Surprise slapped into him when he found himself wearing the woman’s face as Jonathan’s fastened on it, lips sealed into each other as tears rolled. A familiar sight, a familiar taste. Nor was it so from borrowing her senses on previous occasions. He had known this and so much more of the young man back when his hair was dark as a chestnut.

The shock came from the feeling of a deft hand grazing the woman’s thigh. Fingertips skimmed inquisitively along the skin where the femoral artery pulsed and blood rushed in expectation toward—

“Jonathan.” Her head shook. “We can’t. We shouldn’t…shouldn’t…” The hand came away from her thigh and joined its brother in cupping her face. Jonathan’s gaze rested solely on her eyes, refusing the Wafer’s scar so much as a glance. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“How much of anything in this past week has been right for us? For you?” Here the choking throat bobbed. Brown eyes gone wet as glass. “I just—I want to do something for you. To give you all that can be given as we are.”

“As I am. You are not the one marked, unclean—,”

“No. You do not call yourself that. Please, never insult the woman I love with such a word again. Marked, yes, but never, ever unclean. Nor unworthy. Nor anything less than sublime.”

“That isn’t true, Jonathan.”

“Wilhelmina, it is. Whether you believe it or not.” Jonathan bowed forward until, gentle as a feather, his brow rested against the burn. “If you cannot, I shall simply know it twice as hard for us both.”

“Such is sweet to hear. But there’s more to consider. You know it.”

“So there is. And I care more for you than any other consideration or hypothetical element. You are here and real and whatever else may come into it is inconsequential as vapor. If you tell me you truly do not wish me to touch you, to give you what comforts I can beyond a held hand and our shared bed, then I will drop the matter. We shall be chaste until,” again the leap of the throat, “all is settled. But before we swear to abstinence, I want you to tell me, from your heart, that you wish it because you deem it a true desire and not merely another act of deprivation for—for its own sake.”

 In the dark, a tongue clicked and tutted. A close call, Mr. Harker. Can’t let it slip whose eyes you pretend not to see on the other side of hers.

“Would you wish to engage in such intimacies were you in my position?” was Madam Wine-Press’ counter. “I have read it all. Everything you bore—,”

Here an outright cackle was stifled in a dirt-powdered sleeve.

Ha.

Ha.

‘All.’ As if he had not thumbed through the diary entries himself before tossing the papers on the fire. Such wide gaps between so many dates, dear Jonathan. Whatever for?

“—everything you were prepared to risk rather than stay eternally in the presence of those Weird Sisters. How can I, being what I am, becoming worse, make you pantomime your way through any such act with something that may soon cease to be your wife?”

Ah, the melodrama of the martyr. A fine save, wine-press. No other cause to pause in the coital fumbling. None at all.

In answer, Jonathan pulled away an inch, still staring straight ahead. Love softened most of the look, but an edge of whetted steel hovered in it too. Seeing her and seeing past her. It was almost like watching a magic trick as the expressions of the gallant lover, the loyal knight, and the hunting dog all overlapped together with a radiation of purpose in every angle. All the while, the hand that had risen from her thigh began to descend.

It did not fall immediately, but walked. A steady trek down the cheek to the lips. From lip to throat, swiping past the tell-tale bite. Smoothing around the hill of the breast and its pointed cap. Along the bend of the waist, across the shelf of the hip. Home again on a thigh that was still hot under the nimble fingers. Perhaps warmer.

“Tell me to stop if you want me to stop. But only if it’s for your sake. Not mine. Not God’s. Not any hesitation born of what some intangible other might think.” The hand began to roam again. “I love you, Mina. Always.” The fingers crept. Slipped. Traced. “There is no force, no change, no decree on Earth or beyond it that will make me feel otherwise.” The entire hand was at work. Tirelessly. “If my words are not enough to prove it, if action is not enough, if my own nightmare left on paper has skewed the matter, I ask that you let me verify it in the flesh. If you will let me.”

Faster. Faster. Faster. A speeding cradle of muscle and bone rocking up, up, up, in, in, in—

“Will you let me?”

The answer was a single breathless vowel chased by a burst of damp heat, hands locked tight on Jonathan’s shoulders.

Out on the sea, in the dark, a second body shuddered and locked his teeth against a gasp. Later he would try to mock himself for the reaction. He wasn’t a stranger to the ‘Weird Sisters,’ as his Harkers called them, and their own play. They would all borrow each other’s climaxes given the opportunity. And yet this one had struck deeper.

In the present he tried to shake off the tremors still thrumming up and down his legs. Instead, he locked himself more fully into the woman’s senses. The heat of her, the breath, the tingling across her lap. Then, whispered back, woven with equal resignation, determination, and want:

“Will you let me?”

“Yes.”

And so the woman’s hand—his hand—made its own route along Jonathan. She was as deft as her husband. Though he flattered himself that his own experienced digits had worked the young man far more expertly. It had been necessary to wring it out of him in his less than enthused condition. Regardless, it was a pleasant return to better memories and a charming prelude to their trio’s unique and sprawling future together.

There was a satisfaction in seeing the young man come undone as the body usurped the mind, pleasure blasting out all the sentiment of love for one heady moment. Yet it returned within a blink. As did his lips upon hers. A sweeter heat flooded the woman this time. No tears, only the taste of each other, the feel of hands held or hands grasping, the heart twisting with such mingled agony and rapture that it might have popped.

Her teeth grazed Jonathan’s lip.

Sharp.

Do it, he found himself suddenly thinking at her. Urgent. A bootheel pressed to a phantom throat. Do it. Do it now. He wants it. We both know it. We know he will not live without you. If you are undead, he shall be too. If you are ended, he will fall on his blade. Save time. Save him. Keep him. Just a taste. Go on.

She pulled away. Doing so, she saw that delicious, that delirious, that most divine truth in her husband’s face.

Yes. He would let her. Be it now or tomorrow or at the far end of her change. He would let her.

And if not you? Do you think he would deny my offer a second time if it meant joining you? Or should it come from your Sisters? They were so looking forward to a new pet of their own. Do it now and he can be ours alone. Do it and save everyone the pain of waiting. To stall the inevitable only makes the hurt worse. I know from experience. Take him. Now.

Her voice tried to crawl up her throat. He collared it.

Now, Wine-Press!

Silent, she looked at Jonathan. Jonathan read what couldn’t be heard. The next kiss went to her knuckles. Her palm. Then he laid the latter flat against his heart as it beat steadily on.

“It’s yours. Always.”

Yes, my friend. I know.

And that was the sum of it for that evening. Damn them.

Night came, night went. He slipped back into his box as the sun crept up. They would want another trance, perhaps, and it was best he be an idle carcass when the time came. As he settled in, he treated himself to a parting glimpse through the woman’s eyes. Here was Jonathan again, standing before the mirror and seeing to the mechanics of shearing his stubble away. The woman caught herself staring at his throat a moment too long and snapped her gaze back up to the concentrating face in the glass. Perhaps wondering when she would lose her own reflection. Just as well. There would be more noteworthy views to come.

He pondered them as hard as he could, illustrating them in his mindscape for express delivery to her dreaming mind once sleep took her. It wouldn’t do to have all her rest come so peacefully. Not when there was so much excitement to come.

As a start, he would show her how he had taken Jonathan for the first time. Followed by all the ways he had taken him after. On back or belly, folded over or splayed wide, gasping or pleading. Always quick to please his Master, but always so teasingly shy about letting himself be pleased. Always thinking of a future that should not have existed: the one where he lived and left as a human being, crawling home to the daydream of his waiting lady.

This would be followed by merrily running him through that gauntlet again, albeit with Madam Wine-Press held at bay as neatly as any of his beasts. Jonathan would be no less obedient as the caveat would be that any disobedience would result in his wife tragically coming in contact with one of the Dutchman’s convenient Crosses. Ideally slotted as deeply in her as Jonathan’s Master was in him.

He could have her do it. If he was doubted, he would gladly demonstrate. For solidarity’s sake, perhaps he would also blunt and oil up one of the hunting party’s stakes. It would be interesting to see how far Jonathan might take it in as she watched.

So it would go for the opening act. Next, the dining hall. Her Sisters would be long since parched and deserving of some gesture of reconciliation after their own punishment. Madam Wine-Press could observe as Jonathan was shucked bare as a roast, drained at the neck and the loins until he was all but dry. Ah, still no taste for her yet! Come, to the marriage bed.

Not hers, of course.

Theirs.

The climax of Lenore and Wilhelm, consummated in the crypt where he had left the ebon coffin waiting in its proper place. There Jonathan would be laid, half-alive, feeble as a kitten. His Master would climb over the waiting bridegroom and order the woman to shut the lid for them. And she would.

All this and more danced just out of reach, a brilliant horizon far more precious than any mere silver lining. The visions were enough to scour away the last of the clouds in his mind. This detour would have a happy ending after all.

A pain reached him.

Small, but there. Incessant.

The woman was making two fists. Her nails cut hard into her palms as if she meant to gift herself stigmata. She was standing before the mirror as she did so. Jonathan had gone to the wardrobe and could be seen over her shoulder. Half-dressed, the landscape of his back and the lines of his throat stood out in mesmerizing relief. The woman regarded this, then herself. For the first time since it was bestowed on her, she did not spare a look for the burn. Just the eyes.

Not her own.

Pretense of ignorance or no, she saw her Master as much as he could ever be witnessed in a looking glass. Her voice came in a low crisp note, almost crystalline. A whisper glazed in poison:

“This man belongs to me.”

He smiled back at her and hoped she felt it. At the same time, a delightful thought occurred to him. He allowed his hands to travel. Under his shirt, below his belt, circle, tweak, tickle, stroke, pump. He imagined still being busy with this bit of maneuvering when it came time for the woman to have her sunrise trance. Would she speak honestly about her borrowed experience under the hypnosis? Better yet, would her own hands be forced to travel along the corresponding routes before her gawking audience? Could he manage opening the buttons of a blouse and the flipping of a skirt? Oh, to see dear Jonathan’s face during it all! To see it after she came awake!

It would be good for a laugh…but it would give him away too soon. He was to be no more than an ignorant drowsing lump in his dirt, after all. So he settled for finishing himself off as she stood before the mirror, glowering away as if it mattered. Jonathan came up to her a moment later. Hands were held and eyes were met with stinging tenderness.

In the dirt and the dark there was a last sigh before he settled himself into stillness like a good corpse.

Yes, Wine-Press, he belongs to you for the moment. Until he is returned to his rightful owner, be sure to kiss him for us both.

And she did.

[dykesynthezoid]

Been formulating my thoughts on that post about kids books with challenging subject matter you reblogged the other day... the funny thing is I'm pretty sure there IS an established thing with middle-grade kids being like "ugh why does the dog always have to die in these books 🙄" (anyone remember that Gordon Korman book "No More Dead Dogs"?) but it has nothing to do with them being too fragile to take it and more to do with there being such an established canon of kid's books where a dog dies at the end that the ending is too predictable and kids are BORED by it. Like in the original tweet that sparked the discourse, wasn't it a 6th grader making the comment? At that age kids are less emotionally fragile and more cynical, in their own youthful way. Like you said, they can take it!! It's just up to the school board to, idk, teach these things in an interesting way I guess. Maybe through the lense of greek tragedy? Like "yeah we all know the dog is gonna beef it, but let's pay attention to how that's built up and foreshadowed", etc.

I honestly hadn’t thought about that, but it probably really is a factor. Bc children’s media does have a whole lot of tropes, and when kids get to an age where they’re trying to challenge themselves (or are being challenged in schools) running into the same tropes over and over and over must be grating.

I do think the number one reaction for a kid when a dog dies in a movie or book is at first a sense of betrayal (honestly, it’s a reaction I still have as an adult, lmao). Like, “hey, wait a minute!”

But if that was a plot event you’d only ever seen once or twice, it would be more confounding and intriguing, and less frustrating and overdone. So yeah, after a whole lot of that I wouldn’t be surprised some kids are rolling their eyes.

I didn’t necessarily notice it as a trope myself as a kid; but that was probably because when I was young enough to read children’s books I was mostly reading things like adventure and fantasy stories, or even mysteries. Meanwhile I think tropes like the dog dying at the end is more common in contemporary stories, which I wasn’t reading very many of.

(And by the time I was reading other genres, the books I was reading were mostly adult. And “by the time” I mean by like, 12, bc l started at a school that was pretty academically rigorous; my 7th grade English teacher had us reading Gogol. Which is all to say I’m maybe not the best person to comment on this tbh, since I kinda missed out on that aspect of being a young reader; so take this all with a grain of salt!)

But yeah I love the idea of at least like. Changing the lens through which children are taught books to keep them engaged. It does so much so draw them in to the story, to make them care enough to meet it halfway. Which isn’t easy! Kids have a lot going on, especially these days, and it’s no wonder they’re just going to check out if they get bored with their learning material.

[sweetestofchaos]

Just finished Blackthorn chapter 2!!! I loved it so much!!! I especially love how you pay attention to small moments and details like the emperor and empress squeezing each others’ hands, the way Yoongi scratches his nose, the little micro-reactions everyone has toward each other. It’s like a momentary zoom out or zoom in that just gives such a nice pause to the story be in the moment a but longer. This story makes me feel like… touching velvet?? I don’t know if that makes sense 🤷🏽‍♀️ Like smooth and soft and feel-good. I also love his new nickname pallas cat! It fits so well and that’s so cute she called him that! I’m also so intrigued on the direction of Yoongi’s dragon. There’s definitely a sinister feel, and I’m excited to learn more!

You really notice the small things I put in the story? I am at a loss for words. Wow. Okay, yeah, wow. I cannot thank you enough for pointing out what you noticed and picked up on. It's really cool that those moments were able to make everything come together a little more for you.

Touching velvet? Are you for real, right now?! Come on, what am I supposed to say to that? Smooth, soft and feel-good? (I told my bf about this, and he just smiled...my mom also said that she was happy my words could make you feel that way) Myself? I just cannot get over it. I never thought this story would be something for anyone (other than myself) and it's just a really awesome feeling to know that you're enjoying it.

The Pallas Cat...you can't tell me this isn't a pouty Yoongi!! I laughed to myself when I wrote that because he is supposed to be this big, scary, fire breathing dragon and here comes the Princess calling him a cat. Yeah, I had a good laugh with that one. I'm happy to see that you liked it too.

Yoongi's dragon, Agust? Well, he'll come about every once in a while. He is a character that I look forward to writing about. You think he has a sinister feel, huh? Guess you'll have to wait and see! Jeez, now I'm all excited and I'm the one writing it!

This was such a sweet review and I hope you enjoy chapter 3 just as much when it comes out!

Thank you,

Chaos

[sweetlywriting]

Here is my request uwu I honestly am a bit sheepish about it, but could you do the Twisted Wonderland dormitory leaders with a Female chubby s/o that just loves Strawberry shortcake?

{ I MYSELF LOVES IT!! And chubby }

Like their s/o would just be talking to someone or them and out of nowhere, like plate, the cake and even fork/spoon and she just eating a slice of the strawberry shortcake!

Bonus stars: if they give their s/o more!

Scenario- Chubby S/o who loves strawberry shortcake~

Includes-Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Malleus Draconia, Riddle Rosehearts, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Kalim Al Asim

A/N-This was so cute <3

Leona Kingscholar-

Leona’s always hovering over you so he quickly notices how much you love strawberry cake

He’s a bit annoyed when he’s using you as a pillow and you pull out strawberry cake, you’ll get crumbs all over him!! You also make the best pillow because you’re chubby, he’ll bury his face into your plushy skin and whine if you push him away

He also doesn’t like when you’re paying so much attention to the cake you don’t acknowledge him over your shoulder

Will bite your shoulder or neck when you give to much attention to the cake. You have to remind him cake is not fightable.

If anyone else teases you for eating too much, it won’t be very pretty, fighting not usually allowed but he’s a creative guy yknow.

Azul Ashengrotto-

Oh? Are you using some sort of magic to make it appear? He’s intrigued the way in just seems to pop into your hands

He spends way too much time trying to figure it out

Eventually he accepts it as something cute you can do

But when he constantly sees it with you he’ll add it to the Monstro lounge’s menu, whenever you drop by it’s always waiting for you in the vip section along with a happy Azul because he now has an excuse to see you

Refuses to let you actually pay for it, will be offended if you try

If anyone is rude about it he’ll be sure they get a “squeeze” He loves chubby people! Loves to just hold you tight and cuddle <3

Malleus Draconia-

Malleus also thinks your using some sort of magic to make the cake appear!

He thinks it’s quite resourceful and even though strawberry isn’t his favorite flavor being able to share something sweet with you is more than enough

He’s a prince so now he knows you love it, strawberry cake will be everywhere for you. In your locker, on your desk, in your dorm, on grim’s head, everywhere!! He leaves a little note to match too!

Riddle Rosehearts-

Riddle is always more of a tart person but he also shares a love for all things strawberry, so he understands the need to constantly have a slice of cake with you

Sometimes will scold you when you eat it in class because rule number 362 says eating in classes are prohibited. Might let it go if you share a little with him

Now whenever he’s baking with Trey he’ll make sure to make some strawberry cake and leave it at your desk

Sometimes will ask you to bake it with him, unfortunately he’s still learning so you both end up with flour on your faces and no strawberry cake perhaps it’s best if Trey does the cooking

If someone gives a snide comment you better believe their losing a head.

Vil Schoenheit-

Vil doesn’t like cake much, he enjoys the aesthetic but it’s to unhealthy for the famous supermodel. He’s totally not eyeing it sadly

Sometimes you’ll catch him eating a bite or two of the cake when he’s not looking

Once you tell him your fine with sharing and a piece of cake won’t hurt he’s now eating all your cake

You have to hide it because one minute he’s just sweetly kissing you, next he’s running away with your cake!

Still your glad he’s finally able to enjoy something that isn’t on his normal diet

Also he loves your chubbiness he finds outfits that suit you best and is constantly shopping with you.

Idia Shroud-

Idia has seen a lot, but strawberry shortcake practically floating into your hands is not one of them

He first notices when he was playing a video game with you comfortably sitting on his lap, when he saw that he was chewing? Oh! You were feeding him strawberry cake, but he didn’t even see you get up?

He eventually accepts you and strawberry cake are made for each other and after a hard day he’ll make sure you get to enjoy a slice

Ortho will sometimes mischievously grab it from you, to which you laugh and Idia scolds him.

Kalim Al Asim-

Kalim loves cake! He’d be so happy if you’d share it with him!

Sometimes he’ll playfully lick the crumbs off your lips and catch you in a kiss

Strawberry has never really been his flavor, but it makes you so cheerful he can’t protest!

Like Riddle he’ll try making it for you at least once, but fails horribly and Jamil has to clean the mess up for him. At least he tried?

[ranhaitanisgf]

Jyugo, Uno, and Mitsuru with a s/o who acts mean and cold to everyone else but is only nice and sweet to the 3 please? :o

jyugo, uno, and mitsuru with an s/o who acts means but is sweet: headcanons

[𖤐] hi anon, thank you so much for the request! this was pretty cut to write, but i didn't have as many ideas as i thought i would, so sorry if this is a bit short! hope you enjoy!

--

❧ masterlist

jyugo:

✗ for the longest time, jyugo sincerely thought that you hated him and did not like to be around him, which is why he would never try to interact or talk with you. uno would always ask him about why he never tried to talk with you, and would insist that you didn’t actually hate him, and that jyugo was just being overdramatic.

✗ the thing is though, jyugo never knew that you were actually really down bad for him, but you thought that he hated you because he never tried to talk to you. you knew that sometimes you could come off as a bit intense, but was it really that bad? you had even reluctantly asked uno about it, and he said that he had no idea why.

✗ now that uno knew about it though, he’s going to be helping you out and try to get jyugo to talk to you more, which includes shoving you guys in a room and locking it until he hears you two having a conversation.

✗ uno is also a major part is getting you to confess to jyugo after a while, because he can tell that the two of you like each other, and are not going to get anywhere if he doesn’t do anything.

✗ honestly, jyugo was pretty shocked when your attitude slowly started to change to him throughout the beginning of your relationship. you would be asking him more about himself, and talking a lot more openly with him, and you would even be showing a lot more affection that you did before, (he doesn’t mind at all though; he thinks it’s really cute how you only acted like this with him).

✗ he’s always going to be a little surprised whenever you come up to him and hug him, because he’s never really been used to that sort of thing before, (especially from you) but he’s still going to accept anything you give him!

✗ when everyone else finds out that the two of you are dating, they are honestly shocked and perhaps a bit worried for both of you, because jyugo is bad with relationships, and you’re always acting so cold and distant to everyone, so how is that going to be able to work? honey and trois definitely make some careless comments about it, so you did maybe a little more than put a scratch on their handsome faces.

✗ when the rest actually see how you act when you’re around jyugo, they are completely shocked, to say the least. they never would have expected somebody such as yourself to be so soft and nice to anybody else, but they learn to get used to it and accept it over time.

uno:

✗ when first meeting you, uno is going to be able to tell that you’re seeming to be pretty uninterested in whatever was going on around you, and that you were rather cold to everyone, so he’ll make it his personal mission for you to open up more to everyone around you and have you make some friends, (because he thinks that nobody should be completely alone, yknow?).

✗ he’s always going to be a thorn in your side at first; always coming up to you and slinging an arm around your shoulder, joking around and inviting you to come to his game room or join the rest of them when they were going to escape.

✗ uno is definitely going to be the one to realize his feelings for you first, so he’s going to start paying extra close attention to you and your mannerisms, to see if he can try to get a clue about what you’re thinking about. he has a hard time with this though, since you’re one of the most guarded people that he knows, (he might even try to blackmail hajime into learning more information about you and it ends horribly).

✗ he always knew that he was going to come clean with you about it, (even if he couldn’t figure out what you were thinking) but the way that he did it was a complete accident, but it still worked, and you admitted that you felt the same way about it, (which was really surprising on his part).

✗ as you start to open up to him more, he’s going to become a lot more aware on how you actually feel when you say certain things, although he’s still not going to be able to read you as well as others. he’s okay with that though; it’s definitely a lot more interesting for him to say the least.

✗ he really does love when you act all soft around him; it makes him feel like he’s on top of the world. he loves to do anything you do, so he’ll probably just be around you 24/7.

✗ can and will defend you with his life, since there are a lot of others who think you’re just distant and cold, (which you kinda are sometimes) but he’ll just tell them that they need to spend more time trying to get to know you better.

✗ honestly just really loves you and thinks it’s so cute that you are the way you are.

mitsuru hitokoe:

✗ he’s always known to be playing around, so when he first meets the new guard who’s said to be cold and distant, he absolutely has to meet you!

✗ when he first comes across you, you literally ignore his questions and remarks, and continued to go on with your normal routine, but he wasn’t done yet. he kept pestering you and following you around for the rest of the day until he got a response, which was just a simple “please leave me alone”.

✗ becoming even more intrigued with you, he’s going to start pestering you and teasing you all the time, and he’s not going to stop until he gets more out of you. he’ll even ask the warden for your background information so that he can try to understand more about how you are, (he’s never been shut down so quickly boldly by anyone before; he really did want to know more about you).

✗ as the months went by though, he noticed you start to slowly be open to small conversations with him, and he felt a bit proud and accomplished that he had actually been able to make you let your guard down in front of him.

✗ mitsuru is definitely going to be the one confessing to you first, and this is entirely because he wants to see the reaction on your face, (but also because he really does like you). he’s definitely the type to be handing you a box of valentine’s chocolates in the middle of december and say some cheesy pick-up line.

✗ when you two first start dating, he’s a bit curious as to if you’re going to be open to any affection from him or not, (he’s still going to do it though, just not in public).

✗ when he first starts to see that you’re acting a lot different around him, he’s going to be feeling like a missions success! type feeling, since he feels accomplished that you feel comfortable enough around him, (and also like him enough) to be able to act like how you want to around him.

✗ he loves whenever you give him hugs, and he’ll always reciprocate no matter where you are because who is he to turn a hug down from his beloved?

✗ if anybody is ever asking about why you act the way you do, mitsuru is just going to outright expose you and talk about how cute and clingy you actually are, (he wants everyone to know that he’s the only one you act like that with).

✗ really loves when you cuddle into him at night, since he really likes the fact that you’re letting your guard down enough to be able to sleep around him.

✗ he’s definitely going to be a bit pouty at work when you completely ignore him for the entire day, so you better make it up to him later!

--

[pastxlscorp]

Bully! Mitsuya Fanfic (pt.1)

Chapter I: Inception

✿ Word Count: 2.1k

✿ Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x reader

✿ Topics covered: (Eventual) Enemies to lovers trope, Y/N POV, tsundere-Mitsuya, bully! Mitsuya, fem. reader, minor manga spoilers, Bully! Mitsuya headcanons from last post

He lifted his large palm, coated in silver and black rings to match his attire. He was wearing a black mock turtleneck that matched his jet black hair. In his youth, he had lilac-colored hair that was either in a buzz-cut or grown out to a mullet. Now, he sported his black hair in his college-years. He was studying to become a fashion designer, a dream he had since his youth after his love blossomed for sewing. It had begun as a chore in order to keep his sisters satisfied and happy, saving money from buying toys by simply creating them himself. As he practiced it more and more, he began to realize how intricate fabrics were. How beautiful colors could come together and form the prettiest structures and designs -- how even the ugliest colors would look elegant if you paired them properly with the right colors, or carefully took apart the threads to create something new. You on the other hand were not studying to become a fashion designer, but rather a photographer. In your youth, you were a free-lancer in art and a quiet overachiever. You had many different career options open to you, but nothing really opened you up in the way art did. You participated in many different types of art, you loved painting, sewing, embroidery, name it, you’ve probably dabbled in it. One day, your class was introduced to your photography unit and all the puzzle pieces fell into the designated places, the pieces being lost and untouched for years. Nothing brought you more joy than snapping someone’s photo on the street to surprise them with the way the sunlight beautifully encapsulated their figure. Nothing brought you more joy than taking an eerily aesthetic photo of the rain pouring on the people below your building as a lady frolocked in the rain below, eager to rejoice in mother nature’s beauty.

Truthfully, your relationship had not started out the way it was now. With his palm ever so elegantly shoving you to the floor, your photographs spilling out of your portfolio as you hit the cold tile floor, protecting your chest by landing on your elbow and knee. Snickers, chuckles, giggles-- they all filled the hallway after seeing you collapse. Only a select few actually took pity on you, including one of his loyal followers, Hakkai Shiba. Mitsuya was usually followed around by two close-friends, Yasuda-san and Hakkai. Yasuda-san was also a fashion major, while Hakkai was planning to become a model. Mitsuya was very well respected amongst the campus for many different reasons. Firstly, he was gifted with the intellect of sewing intrigue designs that made everyone sigh in awe. Secondly, pretty-privilege. You hated to admit it but Mitsuya was a very attractive-looking man, his hair was always fluffed to the right extent, he was well-dressed, and leading into the third reason, he was smart. Despite being a part of the Tokyo Manji Gang, otherwise known as Toman, as one of the second division captains, he was able to manage schoolwork as an overachiever and was known for his intellect. Not to mention, keeping his division in check along with his two younger sisters AND the sewing club that he managed at his school? It was no wonder he was seen as the perfect boyfriend, he had all of his together. This was the reason why his disregard of you was seen as acceptable, everyone assumed you must have done something wrong for him to treat you this way, right?

Incorrect assumption. You have never done anything wrong to Mitsuya-- in fact… you don’t really remember doing anything to him, period. You both met by chance in his home-economics club, which he decided to suggest to the college board upon seeing there was not a club that actively encouraged sewing. At the time, most participants on campus were graphic designers, artists, not really looking to take the fashion industry by storm as Mitsuya was. However, he was able to persuade the board and even got petition signatures to seal it all off. He was the president of the club and upon seeing the posters taped in the hallways, you instantly took the opportunity to get any extracurricular activities on your transcript. He welcomed you into the club but it wasn’t like you got that much of his attention-- after all, the club filled up quickly with Mitsuya’s admirers. Although, shortly before he began his cruel treatment and behavior towards you, it actually seemed like you two were becoming friends. He would begin to check on you a little more frequently than the rest, tapping your shoulder with a warm smile, asking you how your project was going. You would show him your small projects, nothing too big as it had nothing to do with your major, but projects that you enjoyed and had fun doing nonetheless. He seemed most amused by the sweater you created for your dog by letting out a soft chuckle. In return, he showed you the sweaters he made for his sisters, who were now teenagers. It became a routine for him to walk over to you after checking up on everyone else and talk until club hours were over. He’d find anything to talk about and it made your heart swell with how he actually took the time out of his day to make sure you didn’t feel alone. You were sure he had picked up on how you lacked friends in his club, he was clearly trying to make you feel welcome and you couldn’t help but begin to admire him even more than you once had.

One day, however, it suddenly changed. His demeanor was suddenly cold and unwelcoming to you. You noticed when you walked into his club as you normally did, taking your seat. He did not visit you within the 10 minutes it usually took him to check upon everyone else. It took much, much longer, so you simply assumed everyone needed more help than usual. However, when he came over to your table, his words startled you so much that you pricked yourself with your needle, rushing your eyes to meet his own at his sudden harshness.

┃ “Looks like someone isn’t paying attention.”

The venom in his words made your cheeks flush with a tint of red, noticing some of the club members staring at you, also in surprise of his harsh tone. You open your mouth, quickly questioning his behavior, all of your words coming out panicked, in fear you’ve done something wrong-- something to disappoint, or upset him.

┃ “What do you mean, Pres? My projects have never been an issue before.”

┃ “Nicknames are a privilege. Call me by my proper title.” He snapped, your peers widening their eyes, for he never required anyone to call him by his last name.

┃ “...President Mitsuya, I apologize. However, you can’t just--”

┃ “Look around,” he motions his arm towards the surrounding students working at their tables, sewing much larger projects and others measuring their models for their designs. Your right eyebrow began to raise in confusion, he had never minded your small projects. Yet, here he was, embarrassing, no-- humiliating you in front of your peers about how minuscule your projects were in comparison.

┃ “Your peers all have their mind set on a big project or several larger projects. Yet, here you are with your small little trinkets. They’re working hard, and you’re doing the bare minimum to have your work completed for this club.”

Tears began to prick your eyes, questioning what his true motive was here. Surely, the projects weren’t the issue. This… this was too strong of a switch-up. Something had triggered this outburst of his, but you weren’t sure what. He was always stressed, all the time actually-- had he perhaps overwhelmed himself and he was taking it out on you?

┃ “(Y/N).” Your name so violently came out of his mouth, as if it had just crashed on cement. It wasn’t the silky and softer voice you were accustomed to hearing when speaking with him. “Get your head out of the clouds. Are you listening?”

┃ “Sir… I mean, President Mitsuya, with all due respect, you seem to be… unfairly targeting me. Some of these students are creating something as simple as a sweater for their friends, why is something for my dog any different?”

The rest of the club began planning your funeral. While never seeing him this upset on school grounds, they have heard about how foul he could get with his division members. Questioning him was bound to make him explode. They all froze, eyes drifting to Mitsuya for an incoming scolding.

┃ With a harsh grab, his fingers glide under your chin as he lifts it up to meet his face directly. “'You questioning me?”

┃ “N-no sir! I mean no disrespect, I just-”

┃ “You’ll be staying after club hours.”

┃ “B-but sir I have-”

┃ “I was NOT asking.” He half-shouts, dropping your chin from his harsh grip as he makes it back to the front of the classroom where he continues to work on his own projects. Your fellow club members pitied you at first, but after seeing how harsh he got later on with you as the bullying continued, they assumed this was the result of an external conflict.

You don’t remember what he told you after club hours. He was yelling something about how you were stupid, a dumbass, and well, you get the rest. Cruel words were thrown at you as if the day before he wasn’t so fondly helping you with the sweater for your dog-- helping you perfect the stitch of his name. Any time you questioned him or flat-out denied his accusations and heinous words, he would yank your chain and pull you so you were right in front of him as he stared down at you. It was enough to scare you out of ever providing a rebuttal, and you soon learned that as the bullying continued.

Now, here you are, on the floor, calmly collecting your portfolio photographs, not even phased by his now-normal harassment. Usually, a shove would be enough to appease him, but today it seemed like one of those days where he wanted more. He walked over to your kneeling figure as you collected your portfolio, your head turned away from him to avoid giving him any form of satisfaction.

┃ “What do you say after you bump into someone?”

┃ “I didn’t bump into you, dickhead.”

With a swift motion, he forcefully grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him, his lavender eyes piercing straight through you. He was clearly unsatisfied with your response.

┃ “What do you say after you bump into someone, skank?”

Every time you questioned him or talked back, you knew it simply made him angrier. You quickly learned that him acting out was his way of earning your attention, but for whatever reason it was, you couldn’t figure out why. What you did learn, however, from your many other incidents with him, is that he would praise you when you were obedient. Eager to get this over with and save yourself any more humiliation, you replied:

┃ “I’m sorry.”

┃ “I’m sorry…?”

┃ With a sigh, you continue, “I’m sorry, President Mitsuya.”

He smirks, now satisfied with your answer. He taps your cheek with his right index finger and replies:

┃ “Good girl.”

You swipe your face away from his grasp and continue collecting your photographs, along with your notebooks and planner that had slipped out. Mitsuya scoffs as you once more retract your attention away from him and walks away with Yasuda-sun snickering. Hakkai, however, stays behind and examines you for a few brief moments. He walks over to you and begins helping you organize your bookbag. You look up and smile-- despite his silence, his eyes offered every form of apology he could give you. You had learned Hakkai was afraid to speak up to Mitsuya because he was his best friend and was afraid any talkback from him would only result in a deeper hatred for you. You didn’t mind, however, you just appreciated how Hakkai kept you grounded. He helped you remember you didn’t do anything wrong, this was Mitsuya’s doing and his alone. Hakkai was always well-dressed as well, you noticed. He was wearing an incredibly long trench coat with beautiful shades of baby blue, ocean blues and a bright orange that made everything pop. It covered a black mock turtleneck that seemed to be matching the one Mitsuya was wearing and in fact, Hakkai also seemed to have an earring on one ear, similar to Mitsuya. It appeared that he deeply respected Mitsuya, his outfit seemed to be heavily inspired by his own. With everything settled in your bookbag once more, he offered you a pat on the head with a smile as you nodded and thanked him before running off to your first class of the day.

✿ a.n. // I finished this chapter while finishing my AP Psychology hw. I had started writing it and then idk why but I was re-reading the manga and went “wait, now what if we have Hakkai and Yasuda-san…” and ta-da, take my 2.1k words of pure a$$. If this chapter does well, I’ll be sure to upload it on my ao3, too. special tags for @the2ndl and @bren-heron because they both really wanted a fic out of this concept. I hope you enjoy loves <3

[dilf0bsess0r]

Aged-Up!Peter Parker x Reader Smut

Sub!Peter fic

2.5k words

~~~~~~

When you and Peter first started dating, nothing sexual happened, just a few kisses here and there, and occasional make out sessions. As the weeks go by, you were more and more curious as to why the two of you hadn't slept together, but you never brought it up, you didn't want the poor guy to feel pressured.

Then one night, the two of you were watching Star Wars movies for the 70th time in his room, and let's just say that R2D2 was seeing some things he shouldn't be seeing. In the midst of a heavy make out session, you let your hand travel down to the slight bulge you had noticed in his pajama pants, and moved the palm of your hand over him, giving him a tiny bit of friction.

His hips instantly bucked up, and he removed his lips from yours. "Y/N?" He said, meekly as you moved to kiss and lick up the column of his throat, while continuing to palm his now, fully hard cock. You pulled back to admire your work, seeing the red marks scattered across his neck, "Yes sweetie?" You finally respond to the poor boy, who's gone completely red in the face. "Umm, I don't- I cant, umm" he stutters out, his eyes not meeting yours. You use your hand to lift his head so that he finally makes eye contact with you, "Use your words baby", and his eyes close as he lets out a strangled half sigh, half moan.

"Umm, we ca- can't do this" Peter says quietly, almost as if he was ashamed. You scoot away from him a little, so he doesn't feel overwhelmed, "And that's completely fine love, may I ask why?" You ask him softly. "I've never..." he starts, gesturing wildly with his hands and you immediately understand.

"Oh!" You say with wide eyes, and that gives Peter the wrong idea.

He jumps off the bed quickly, grabbing a pillow to cover his lower half, words coming out jumbled, "I knew it! You think I'm a weirdo! This is why I can't be with you! You- you need someone with more, experience and, and who knows what they're doing and that's not-" , he finally quiets down when your lips meet his in a slower, softer kiss than the ones you shared earlier.

You feel his tense shoulders relax and his lips melt against yours, and you finally disconnect from him only to say, "Pete, I promise I don't care that you're a virgin". The boy's face lights up, "Really? You don't?"

You shake your head and laugh a little, "I promise love, it's okay." He grins. "In fact, I find it kinda hot", you whisper the last word with a goofy smirk. The smirk grows into a smile when the younger boy blushes and says, "How is that?"

Before answering the question, you push him down into a sitting position on the bed, you let your hand travel across the expanse of his chest, and say "Baby, is it ok if I touch you?" Peter visibly gulps then responds, "Yes ma'am" before slapping his hand over his face.

"I'm sorry oh my god, I- I don't know where that came fr-" you silence him with your pointer finger over his lips. "Peter, it's okay." His eyes widen even more, at the display of dominance. "Baby, do you want to call me ma'am?" You ask him. He slowly shakes his head yes and you grin, "Perfect."

Y/N loved how easily he was falling into the submissive role. You hadn't had many partners before, but you learned very quickly that you didn't like being told what to do, and the dominant role came easy to you. You were going to tear this poor boy into pieces.

You kiss him again and move to straddle him, your legs enclosing his, and he lets out a light whimper at the pressure on his aching cock. "Don't worry baby boy, I'm gonna take care of you, ok?", he nods his head but that isn't good enough for you.

You grab his chin between two of your fingers and look straight into his eyes and say with a stern voice, "Peter, if anything is going to happen tonight, I need verbal confirmation every step of the way. Understand?"

"Yes ma'am" is squeaked out from the brown eyed boy, his eyes glazing over.

You grind your heated core against the tent in his pajama pants, the thin material giving him the friction he so desperately craved. He lets out a soft moan, his head falling back.

"Baby," you say and grab his attention, and he struggles to focus because of the way you're moving against him, "I'm going to ask you a question or two okay? I just want you to focus on not coming until I allow you" you tell him.

"Yes ma'am" he whimpers.

"I know you said you're virgin, but have you ever done anything?" you ask.

"No ma'am. I mean, I- fuck- I jerk off sometimes but that- that's it" he stutters out, trying his best to answer you.

"Oh, naughty boy", you playfully chastise as you stand up, hearing a whine from Peter.

That noise is turned into a moan as you quickly drop to your knees and mouth at his clothed cock.

"Y/N!" Peter exclaims, gripping at the bed covers.

After there's a nice, big wet spot on his pants, you move to pull them down. You're met with a nice surprise when there's no underwear underneath.

You look up at Peter, with a raised eyebrow and he blushes, "Well I figured that I would be watching movies here, then going straight back to my room to sleep", he answers the unspoken question.

Deciding to tease him a little you say, "Nah, I think you did it for easy access. Anyone who wanted a piece of you could just ask and I bet you'd say yes. Wouldn't you? Cause that's what whores do.", putting emphasis on the "dirty" word.

"What- no no no, I'm not a... that" Peter splutters out.

You grab his cock in your hand, the head flushed red, and you use your thumb to rub the precum around that has gathered at the tip, resulting in a high pitched moan from the boy. You slowly start to stroke him before saying, "I'm sorry, were you disagreeing with me?"

You pick up your pace, flicking your wrist when you come back to the head of his cock, watching in delight as his face scrunches up in pleasure. He shakes his head no, and you remind him "Words, Peter." with a harsh tone.

"No ma'am, I'm not disagreeing" he nearly sobs.

"Good. Glad you remembered who's in charge tonight."

Simply because you can't resist anymore, you lean forward and lick right up the underside of his leaking dick, over the prominent vein, and you end it by swirling your tongue over the tip.

Peter moans embarrassingly loud and looks down at you with wide, glassy eyes and says, "Y/N...", in a whiny voice.

You go back to just stroking him and say, "What is it? What do you want baby, talk to me." He huffs in frustration of not being able to formulate his words.

" I want- I want your mouth." He finally says, but you stay quiet, waiting. "Please" he says meekly and you give in. You finally take him fully into your mouth, moaning at the taste. You focus on going as deep as you can, then coming back up and paying attention to the head.

Minutes pass and you're surprised at how long he's lasting, so you pull off of his cock with loud pop, and say "You know for a virgin, you're lasting way longer than I thought."

"Yeah, I edge myself sometimes, work on stamina" he rushes out, in hopes of getting your mouth back on him.

However, his statement intrigues you. "Edging hm? I wonder how long you can go... wanna find out?" You tease as you leisurely stroke him.

"Nonono! Please no" He begs, "Just wanna- wanna cum" he finishes, hiccuping while trying to plead his case.

"Alright baby, maybe next time" you surrender. His face perks up at the mention of a "next time"

"Where do you want to cum? My mouth, my face, my tits?" You ask him and he doesn't even have to verbally answer. You know which one he wants by the way his eyes light up at the mention of possibly coming on your boobs.

You quickly stand up to take off your shirt and bra, and when you meet the eyes of the submissive boy, you're met with a look of awe. He stares at you as though you are a goddess and he is a mere mortal. It boosts your confidence and your ego, as you go to regain your position in front of him.

"Ok so this is how this works," you start and he's like a little puppy, the way his ears seem to perk up at your instructions. "You're going to jerk yourself off, until you cum all over my tits okay?", you finish, using your elbows to slightly push your tits up and together. His eyes flutter shut and he says "Yes ma'am" before he grabs his cock and starts to tug.

It's not long before he's moaning unabashedly and he's begging for release. "Ple- please ma'am, can I cum?"

"Hmm, I dunno, I think you can wait a little longer", you say with a cruel smile. He whimpers at your mean words and continues to stroke himself.

"Not gonna be able to hold on much longer" he whines out, voice strained.

Deciding to take pity on him, you finally tell him, "Fine you can cum. But, you make sure to keep your eyes on me or you won't cum for a week." you state in a harsh tone.

"Ok ok! I will I promise" he rushes out, starting to stroke himself faster and faster, approaching his climax.

You push your tits up even higher, and you even go as far as to sticking your tongue, just for the erotic visual.

"Fuckfuckfuc- Y/N!" Peter practically shouts as he shoots cum all over your chest, some of it going on your chin and tongue. Not even giving him time to recover, you jump up to his lap to give him a messy, wet kiss. He moans into your mouth, tasting himself and you. You finally break apart, running your hands through his messy curls, "How was that baby?".

He clears his throat before speaking but his voice still comes out a bit shaky, "It was amazing".

"I'm glad it was, now let's get you in the bath while I put your pajama pants in the wash, you can sleep over here tonight okay?" You say in a soothing, quiet tone. "Y-yeah, that sounds good.", the younger boy responds.

You stand up and you start to use your tossed away shirt to wipe of his cum, but Peter stops you, "Can- can I?"

Your eyes widen but you nod your head yes. You barely nod once before Peters tongue is on your breasts, licking up his release. And if that isn't the hottest thing you've ever seen, you don't know what is.

He finishes with a groan before dropping to his knees. "Peter, what are you doing?"

"Wanna take care of you too" he states as he starts to mouth and lick at your mound through your shorts. You moan before gently pushing him back by his shoulders, "As tempting as that is, tonight was and is about you, we'll worry about me another day." He opens his mouth to protest but you cut him off, "End of discussion.", you lean down to his ear to whisper, "Trust me baby boy, I have plenty of ways you can make it up to me. Just not tonight".

He whimpers merely at the thought of pleasuring you, and if that doesn't make you want to just eat him alive. Resisting temptation, you extend your hand to him so he can stand up, and you pull him along as you make your way to the master bathroom.

Perks of living in a multi million dollar compound.

You go straight to the large, jacuzzi like tub, turning on the faucet and letting it fill up. You pour some bath salts into it and hand Peter some body wash, "When it's hot enough, go ahead and get in and wash yourself. I'll be putting your pajamas in the wash and I'll be right back to get in with you, okay?"

He looks at you with a soft smile, "Yeah, okay.""Great", you go back into your room to grab his pants, leaving him alone before heading to the wash.

Soon enough, you make your way back in there, seeing Peter relaxed with his head back against the edge of the tub, his eyes closed. They open at the sound of your footsteps and he smiles fondly at you, before you fully undress yourself, and step in. You cuddle up to him and rest your head on his shoulder.

The two of you stay like that until you hear soft snores from Peter. You step out of the bath and grab a towel to wrap around you, and you go over to wake him up. "Pete, baby, gotta wake up so we can get you to bed."

His eyes flutter open, and he reluctantly steps out of the bath. You hand him a towel, then you go to drain the tub. You tell him to dry off, then go ahead to the bed while you grab his pants.

After returning with his pants, you see him sitting on the edge of the bed, fighting sleep, lazily rubbing one of his eyes with the back of his hand. You try not to aww out loud, because he is just so cute. You finally walk in, handing him his pajamas, then going to your dresser to grab an oversized band t-shirt to sleep in. You put your hair in your head wrap, and you walk to the bed that Peter has already gotten comfortable in.

"You wanna be big spoon or little spoon?" You ask him. You don't mind being big spoon, you actually kind of preferred it. Which is why you let a small smile creep on your face when he says "Little spoon" in a small, hushed voice. You crawl into the bed and let him cuddle into your chest as you wrap your arms around him.

"Goodnight Y/N." "Goodnight Peter."

Peter falls asleep to the sound of Y/N's heartbeat, and Y/N falls asleep to the sound of Peters shallow breathing.

~~~~~

Hope you liked this! This is my first smut so it’s a little rough, and kinda anticlimactic but I enjoyed writing it.

[soulmate-game]

part 2 (of that new bio!dad fic)

Dick whipped his head over to Bruce, who could feel the heavy gazes of all his children as if they were physical. If they had had heat vision like Clark, he would have already been reduced to a puddle of mush. Bruce shifted, the only sign of his discomfort, but he recognized that the middle of a gala was no place for this discussion. There were too many busybodies trying to listen in for the latest gossip. So he plastered on a smile that he couldn’t quite feel, and held a hand out to Marinette. He was careful to keep a good distance though, and left the choice for contant purely up to her.

The young woman looked down at his hand, then back to his face. Damian had been shocked silent by what she had to say, and perhaps even more by the all too telling way that Bruce hadn’t so much as implied that she was lying, and the look he was giving her was making her a little uncomfortable. Yes, she hadn’t planned on interacting with her father more than just the years-overdue confrontation she had just done, at least not while at the gala… but her plans always left room for improvisation. She could make this work.

With a soft sigh, Marinette extended her own hand— half the size of Bruce’s, he noted almost immediately with a rush of illogical fondness— and grasped his lightly. She couldn’t help but notice the way his impossibly blue eyes brightened, no different than her own when she was particularly happy, or the way his mouth twitched with a barely suppressed beam. Instead, he controlled himself enough so that the only smile he gave would look professional and entirely in character to the nosy socialites still spying on them, and led them out onto the dance floor.

What everyone else saw was the unfairly charming Bruce Wayne giving his young guest of honor a simple dance. Just a basic swirl around the floor that every other social elite had learned when they were five. Clearly he was taking it easy on the self-made girl, who probably didn’t have experience with such dances. Humoring the accomplished young woman with his approval for a moment before he would slink back to his family or patrol the crowds and make the necessary greetings and meaningless chatter.

What his family saw was Bruce taking time to slow his steps, not for Marinette to keep up but rather to prolong the event. What they saw was the grace in Marinette’s steps as she never once faltered, and that Bruce was careful to take his cues from her instead of the other way around. He only led the dance in technicality, Marinette had all the real control.

What they saw was a father’s first dance with his daughter.

“Eighteen,” Dick whispered, eyebrows drawn low. “She said she’s almost eighteen.”

“Well, that lines up doesn’t it?” Jason asked gruffly, his own gaze never leaving the dancing duo. “We were planning on doubling up your big thirtieth birthday party as your eighteenth adoption anniversary,” he reminded his brother, who just made a slightly distressed noise in the back of his throat. Whether it was at the reinforcement of his adoption coming only months after Marinette being put up for adoption, or the fact that he was turning thirty, nobody could really tell.

“Hurt,” Cassandra spoke up from behind them, looking incredibly concerned as she watched the dance. “Uncertain.”

Stephany rolled her eyes, fidgeting from her quickly building energy. Anger was making her restless. “Of course she’s hurt. Bruce replaced her, with a boy he knew virtually nothing about, not even that long after she was born. How do you think that made her feel, when she found out?” Stephany let out a little growl, grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing server and downing it in one gulp. She ignored Dick protesting that she wasn’t of age yet, which made her wrinkle her nose. “Only one more year, Dickhead. Get over it, I need the buzz.”

“Well,” Barbara sighed and maneuvered her wheelchair around the group so that everyone could see her. “Nothing we can do right now but be supportive and watch Bruce like a hawk so he doesn’t make this worse,” she stated easily, not looking even the least bit ruffled by the news despite the disturbed glitter in her eyes.

“... Guys,” Tim spoke up, not looking at any of them. “Who wants to volunteer for Damian duty?” At first glance, it might seem like Tim was thinking about his own first disastrous meeting with the younger boy. Once everyone paid attention though, they could see that the truth was that Damian had snuck away and Tim was pointedly looking at a slightly hidden-away staircase to the second floor.

“Shit,” Dick muttered, but before he could say another word Jason shoved him back and started towards the stairs.

“No, not this time Dicky. I’ll talk to the brat.”

Back on the dancefloor, Bruce and Marinette broke away without any fanfare at the end of the song. If Bruce tried to hold her eyes for a moment too long, nobody noticed besides his observant children, and two of Marinette’s protective friends.

Then, just to make sure that nobody caught on with the help of hindsight, Bruce said something vaguely polite and praising, which Marinette accepted with flawless, distant poise. And they went back to their own groups, Bruce quickly noting that two of his sons were missing. He raised an eyebrow, about to ask why when a presence behind him caught his attention. Unlike Marinette and Chloe, this newcomer was not at all trying to hide their approach or be sneaky about it, even though Bruce couldn’t hear any footsteps that were close enough to belong to the mysterious entity. Closing his mouth, Bruce turned around only to be greeted by yet another vaguely familiar face. Bright green eyes bore into his, unreadable.

“Mister Wayne,” the newcomer greeted, voice warm but stiff. If the Waynes hadn’t all had years of recognizing when a person was only pretending to be cordial, they never would have suspected that the boy was anything but pure-heartedly happy to be there. But they did have that experience, and thus they instantly honed in on the very well-hidden fact that he had a bone to pick with them. Or, more probably, with Bruce.

He cut an impressive figure, for all that he was lithe muscle instead of bulk. Hair that was lighter than Chloe’s, less like cloth-of-gold and more like sunlight glinting off of wheatfields. It somehow hung in gravity-defying tufts, yet perfectly arranged to evoke a calming aesthetic. Like the fluff of a long-haired cat, almost, and it looked just as fluffy and hypnotizing. It contrasted with his emerald eyes, impossibly vibrant in their gleam. And the suit he wore was decidedly top-notch, much like the other two they had met from his class. He was daring, in a dark silver suit that slightly shifted in the light, green accents that matched his eyes standing out strikingly against the collars and trim, and coiling in tantalizing swirls at the cuffs. The lining of the suit jacket was done in a dark green that could almost pass for black in the right lighting, adding a layer of both drama and mystery as it peeked out at the back of his collar, the insides of his sleeves if he moved just the right way, at the bottom hem of the jacket when he turned or bent just so. And with his notoriety in the modeling world? He always knew exactly how to move or place himself to get the reactions he wanted. And he was clearly showing off the craftsmanship of his suit just then as he faked adjusting his cufflinks and lifted his head just the right amount to both look challenging and let the dark green on the back of his collar flash in the light in such a way that Bruce and those nearest him wouldn’t be able to miss the brief reveal of color.

“Adrien Agreste,” Bruce greeted back, eyebrows pulling down in slight confusion. Normally the topic of clothing was far from his genuine interest, but in this particular case it was an intriguing, and possibly even concerning, observation. So he said next; “That suit is not of your father’s usual style of design.”

Adrien scoffed, straightening out his suit’s jacket and making the obsidian buttons glint. “Of course not. I’ve started my rebellious phase— or, well, I finally started being blatant enough about it that my father noticed anyway,” the way his lips curled was decidedly not very attractive, but painted a vivid picture of a son who despised the way he was treated. Adrien quickly wiped the distasteful expression away and replaced it with a camera-ready smile. “I’m wearing one of Marinette’s designs, much to his chagrin. She insisted on making this for me as soon as she heard that my father was planning on sending me in a white suit.”

Bruce quickly caught on, and sighed. How long would the gala go on for, again? He didn’t remember what time it was anymore. “Your friend Chloe already got a pretty clear warning in. I suppose you know as well?”

Adrien’s grin darkened with mischief, and he nodded all too happily. “Of course! Marinette told me almost as soon as she found out, a few years ago. You see, we had to put down a very solid rule about secrets between the two of us. She has a bad habit of trying to shoulder the entire world’s problems and not tell anyone about it, if you don’t pay close enough attention,” his voice was deceptively light but his eyes were hard, warning. “And let’s just say, I have a lot of experience with bad father figures. I can recognize them a mile away by now. The signs of neglect, of apathy,” his eyes suddenly lightened when he saw how Bruce’s throat visibly caught, how the man didn’t seem to realize he had stopped breathing. Maybe he was being a little to mean, Adrien thought. So he let the dark slip out of his eyes, and his smile turned more genuine. “You don’t have those signs. You looked at Marinette like you were both the happiest and most miserable man in the world at the same time. But you can’t change what you did to her, Mister Wayne. If you want some advice from Marinette’s oldest friend?” Adrien held out a closed fist.

Bruce took a second to realize what was happening, too busy trying to recover from his situational whiplash and wave of relief. Once he caught back up to the present, however, he held out his open palm and let Adrien drop something into his hand.

To his shock, it was a pen, engraved with the name he recognized as Marinette’s biological mother. He also recognized it as a popular model of pen-knife. He raised his eyes to Adrien, who winked.

“Marinette doesn’t know I had this made. And she has a lot of tricks that might surprise you, but what she wants more than anything is stability. If you try to give her that, show that you care and you want her safe— and then prove that you’re gonna stay— then maybe you can repair the damage you’ve done. It won’t be easy though, Mari is the single most stubborn person I’ve ever met. And I grew up with Chloe.”

Bruce closed his hand around the pen, swallowing a lump in his throat. He couldn’t quite figure out why, but Adrien’s faith in him and his help… somehow felt significant. He nodded to the young model.

“Not to worry, I have experience with stubborn,” he glanced back at his other kids with a small smirk. None of them were the least bit repentant. “And I do want to stay. Thank you for the advice.”

Adrien shrugged. “Don’t thank me. If you hurt her again, you’ll never see my revenge coming. It can be rather… catastrophic,” with that ominous threat, Adrien bowed dramatically and turned to leave and do some rounds charming the elites. Bruce tucked the pen in one of his hidden pockets, but stayed silent after that. He had a lot to mull over.

—*—*—*—*—*

Damian leaned on the railing of the balcony, looking out over the gardens behind the gala’s venue. He was glaring at nothing, and his hands trembled from where they gripped the rail. It was five minutes, a little longer than he had expected but not that odd considering everyone’s distraction over Marinette, before he heard the glass doors behind him creak open.

“Yo,” Jason greeted, knowing it was better not to catch the boy off guard. None of them were good with surprises anymore, for good reason. It was always best to announce their presence before they made someone react violently on accident. Damian’s shoulders relaxed a little— not a lot, but enough for Jason to notice. The older man sighed, walking up and leaning on the rail next to his little brother. “What’s on your mind, kid?”

“That could have been me,” he almost instantly blurted. It was still hard talking about his feelings, but certain things were easier with Todd. This was, apparently, one of them. “If Mother hadn’t kept me a secret.”

“I don’t think so,” Jason disagreed, shrugging. “There are several big differences here. For one, Marinette was born three years before you were. By the time you were born, he already had Dick and he would have only been a year, max, away from taking me in. Which means he already had built up his problem with taking in kids, and nothing would have gotten him to give up a chance at raising you. With or without Batman getting in the way.”

“But then why—” Damian growled. “Why did he give her up?”

“Because he’s an idiot,” Jason remarked bluntly. “You know how he is. He didn’t have a kid at the time. Hell, Bruce would have only been twenty-two back then. He only adopted Dick on impulse because Dick reminded him of himself, but before all of that shit? He probably made a million excuses about not being able to raise a baby and be Batman at the same time. About his life being too dangerous for a kid. Which, yes it is, but that clearly didn’t stop him later.”

“She’s older,” Damian muttered, this time softer.

“Yup.”

“Her mother wasn’t an assassin, probably. She designs. I hate to admit it, and you are never to repeat it to anybody, but her work that we’ve seen so far is impressive. She can clearly charm even the most stuck-up of gotham’s upper crust.”

“Yeah,” Jason agreed neutrally, his eyes never leaving Damian.

“Father won’t need me. He already doesn’t have much patience—” Damian was cut off by a flick to the nose. “Hey!”

“Not my fault you’re being stupid,” Jason defended himself. “Look, B’s actually been real patient with you these past few years. I mean, when was the last time he yelled at you? Or told you that stupid ‘justice not vengeance’ line?”

Damian opened his mouth, then closed it. After another moment, he replied; “Almost two years.”

Jason nodded. “It might take him way too long, but he can still learn new tricks. Especially after that mess with Heretic, he’s been trying really hard to be better to you. He still screws up, because I think we all know by now that he’s a bigger mess than any of the rest of us and that’s an accomplishment, but he’s trying. He doesn’t keep you around because he needs you. He’s got plenty of us around if all he wanted was soldiers— though none of us would stick around if we thought that’s all he wanted.”

Damian flexed his jaw. He was still the most violent of the kids, besides Jason. He saw Bruce rubbing his forehead or pinching his nose far too often at some of his decisions or comments. He was stubborn, impatient, reckless.

But hadn’t Bruce himself told him on several occasions that he wasn’t trying to make him a perfect soldier? Hadn’t Bruce himself said that he just wanted Damian to grow into himself?

It was just really hard to swat away those stupid voices in Damian’s head. Voices of the past, mostly, old dialogue he had never actually forgotten. That he merely pretended had never affected him. The “you’re too violent”s, the “that’s not how we behave, Damian”s. All the old lectures, the old fights. They echoed like stupid little gremlins of doubt.

“...Marinette has his eyes.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over something like that,” Jason’s voice was soft, but gruff at the same time as he cuffed Damian over the head. “You didn’t choose to be born, idiot. And despite being a little demon, none of us would reverse it, You’ve saved all our skins at least once. And besides,” he nudged Damian a little with a grin. “You’re not half bad, nowadays.”

Damian chuckled. “That makes one of us.”

“Hey!”

@peterxwade24 @mizzy-pop @maskedpainter @ladybug-182 @khneltea @itsmeevie01 @fusser90 @woe-is-me0 @lolieg @moonlightstar64 @jayjayspixiepop

[ahkaahshi]

steadfast [miya osamu x reader]

pairing: miya osamu x fem reader + miya atsumu x reader x suna rintarou

genre: smut (18+)

warning(s): explicit sexual content, group sex (threesome), cuckolding, dirty talk, swearing, praise, daddy kink, deep throating, squirting, brief mentions of jealousy, and just a lil bit of that competitive spirit ya know?

word count: 4.3k

overview: after years of witnessing suna and atsumu shamelessly flirting with his girlfriend, he decides to give them one chance to change her mind knowing damn well she won’t.

By nature, Osamu is observant. Few things escape his attention, whether it’s trace amounts of ice cream disappearing from his tub in the freezer or the longing look you always give him moments before you press your lips against his in an affectionate kiss. Though he wants to pay full attention to the intense game of Super Smash Bros.a few of his former teammates are playing, he can’t help but let his eyes wander to your form as you shuffle into the kitchen to grab another beer. It’s not for you, but for his twin brother who places a lingering touch against the small of your back upon accepting it.

To the untrained eye, the action would appear as a gesture of appreciation and nothing more. But Osamu understood his brother well enough to know that he’d always had a habit--or intention, rather--of being handsy with you. His dark, stone-colored gaze quickly flicks back to the game on the television, however, when you saunter over to him to lean down and place a gentle kiss against his temple.

“Need anything, babe?” you ask, (e/c) eyes tracing over the handsome features of your boyfriend’s face.

He shakes his head and assures you, “Just ‘cause this is our place, don’t mean ya hafta play hostess, y’know.”

“I know,” is your cheerfully spoken response before you turn your attention to the chaos unfolding on-screen. “Damn, who knew Kita-san was good at video games?”

Aran, who overhears your comment, laments, “Not me. This guy acts like it’s his first time holdin’ a controller ‘nd then proceeds to give us an ass-beatin’!” That deceptively sweet smile you’d seen many times before soon spreads across Kita’s lips as he casts it in your direction. Moments later, you notice his chosen character catapult Aran’s off the side of the screen, making the man sigh and hand his controller over to a somewhat unsettled-looking Ren.

The exchange makes you laugh, and your amusement quickly spreads to Osamu, who smiles as he pecks your cheek. “Why don’tcha come sit down, honey?” he suggests, patting his knee and slowly pulling you closer by giving your hand a gentle tug.

“Later. I’m gonna go talk to Rin real quick.”

Giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, you back away and dart past the television to where Suna’s standing on the balcony outside. Osamu doesn’t miss the lazy grin that tugs at the corners of his friend’s mouth when you greet him and seat yourself on the chair beside him. Though he’s noticed how much of your attention Suna must’ve been aiming to steal away the entire evening, he doesn’t comment or intervene. Instead, he sends a sideways glance at Atsumu, who plops down on the couch beside him, pops another sliver of pickled plum into his mouth that Kita brought with him, and returns his attention to the game onscreen.

It’s not until later that he decides to speak on the issue, when everyone’s left the informal team reunion but Atsumu and Suna. As you’re scanning the apartment for any trash that may have been forgotten—though there’s not much to find since Kita and Aran scolded anyone who so much as left their drink unattended—you find yourself tripping over the rug sprawled across the wooden floor. Atsumu, who’s seated on the couch nearby, avoiding any tasks associated with cleaning up while tapping through his own Instagram story, quickly extends his arms towards you to steady you as you stumble towards him.

Feeling his hands on your hips and hearing him say, “Careful, there, girly,” brings a rush of heat to your neck and face.

“Thanks, ‘Tsumu!” you chirp quickly, pushing yourself away from the couch with haste.

“Anytime, hon,” is his nonchalant response. Normally, you wouldn’t think much of it because he’d developed a habit of giving you affectionate names over the years you’d known him, but, in this situation, his reply has you glancing over your shoulder at Osamu. Though he remains silent and focused on the task at hand, that quiet but dominating presence of his is intense. You know his brother’s actions are hardly going unnoticed, so you hustle into the kitchen to start cleaning the dishes Kita had neatly piled in your sink—which you’d had to practically beg him not to clean for you by insisting that he was your guest.

Osamu’s dark gaze narrows at his brother in a silent warning once you’re occupied again. Atsumu, being competitive and provocative as ever, simply raises an eyebrow at him as a challenge. However, both their attention soon snaps to you when they hear you and Suna snickering about something that must’ve been just hilarious while he helps take care of the dishes. Jealousy isn’t an emotion Osamu’s entirely used to, seeing as he’s always been secure in his relationship with you, but knowing the types of things his friend and his brother have said about you in confidence before the two of you started dating makes a flicker of it burn within him.

Finally, he speaks, not even attempting to hide the curtness to his tone when he questions, “Why don’t the two of ya just fuck ‘er already?”

The silence that befalls the house following his outburst is deafening, and you freeze in your act of handing Suna another plate to stick in the dishwasher. The three of you collectively turn your gazes to him, though theirs clearly portray an intrigue to learn more about what he means.

“What’re ya sayin’ that for, ‘Samu?” Atsumu asks rather coyly, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees.

However, your boyfriend isn’t having any of his twin’s attitude tonight, since he retorts, “Don’t fuckin’ act like ya don’t know what I’m talkin’ about. I know you’ve been wantin’ her for years now. I see the way you both fawn over her whenever I bring ‘er around.”

“Baby…” you coo softly and dry your hands so you can approach him.

The daggers he sends sticking into you with a sharp glance in your direction stops you in your tracks, though, as do his words. “What? It’s not like yer doin’ anythin’ to stop it.”

You swallow thickly, your eyes sinking to the floor as shame wells up inside of you at the truth his statement holds. You had never intentionally flirted with either of them, but you hadn’t done anything to put an end to their advances. Even though Atsumu and Suna were close friends of yours—and had been since high school, when you’d first met them along with Osamu—you knew they’d both harbored feelings for you at some point over the years. Part of you didn’t stop them because you hadn’t wanted to think the worst, which was that they still had any remnants of desire for you when you were clearly in a committed relationship with Osamu.

However, as you look around and find yourself the subject of not one but three hungry sets of eyes, you realize that they’ve still been hunting you regardless of the fact. “’Samu, I—”

“Do ya wanna let ‘em fuck you?” he interrupts. The fire you can sense burning behind his ash-colored eyes robs you of a response, so he adds, in a softer tone, “’S okay if ya do.”

Atsumu chuckles, “Might not wanna give ‘er the chance since she might rethink her decision about who she chose.”

Without thinking, you shake your head diligently and argue, “I would never leave him.”

“So, is that a yes, then?”

As you take a moment to ponder his inquiry, you notice Osamu moving closer to you before he takes your face in his hands. Tenderly, he kisses your cheek and leans towards your ear so he can murmur, “Why don’tcha let ‘em live out their li’l pipe dream for one night, (f/n)? You’ve got nothin’ ta lose, since I’m the one who suggested it in the first place.” A slow, shuddering breath escapes your lips when he adds, “In fact, I want you to do it. Show ‘em a good time; hell, enjoy yourself too.” He lets his finger run over the gentle curves of your neck, sending tingles down your spine. “I hope they make you feel good—or at least try to, since I know there’s no way they’ll be able ta make you squirt like I can, pretty baby.”

His words quickly fill your core with heat, and you’re consenting with an enthusiastic nod without so much as another thought. A small smile ghosts across his lips for a moment before he gives you a gentle nudge in the direction of the hallway leading to your bedroom, silently telling you to lead the way. Even though your body’s abuzz with excitement at what you’ve willingly gotten yourself into, you can’t help but feel somewhat sheepish at being the subject of three intense gazes. Having them follow you down the narrow hallway makes it somewhat hard for you to breathe, but it’s not long before they’re finding more physical ways of taking your breath away.

Upon entering your bedroom, Atsumu’s the first to paw at your shirt, taking the soft fabric in his grip so he can pull it over your head. Your bra is unclasped moments later and tossed aside haphazardly before you’re pushed onto the bed. The suddenness of your body hitting the mattress makes you squeal, eliciting a low chuckle from Atsumu as he leans over you and captures your lips in a surprisingly tender kiss. While your eyes are closed, you can feel one set of fingers trailing lightly along your sternum while another pair of hands tugs at your pants before removing them, along with your embarrassingly wet panties.

“Mm,” Suna hums gently, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh, “Soaked already?”

“Lemme feel.” The fingertips grazing the expanse of skin between your breasts soon travel down closer to your core, plunging inside and emerging coated in your essence. A soft whine escapes your mouth at the fleeting sensation of being somewhat filled, and you watch with half-lidded, (e/c) eyes as Atsumu slides his fingers into his mouth. “Just as sweet as I expected,” he comments before placing another passionate kiss against your lips so he can swipe his tongue along yours to give you a taste. “What did ‘Samu say that gotcha all worked up, honey?”

From where he’s sitting on a chair across from the bed, Osamu grunts, “None of yer damn business. And don’t call ‘er honey.”

Suna understands why Atsumu’s attempts at using this pet name for you are futile when he sees the way you clench around nothing at hearing it leave Osamu’s mouth. “’Samu,” you whimper softly and look in his direction. In spite of the way Suna and Atsumu’s hands feel against your skin, you’re still pining for the familiarity of your boyfriend’s touch. Eager to bring you back to the matter at hand, Atsumu turns your face back towards him and occupies your lips once more.

Meanwhile, Suna sets himself to running his fingers through your glistening folds and pleasuring your sensitive spot, making you moan into Atsumu’s mouth. When his digits venture inside of you, your hips instinctively buck against them, desperate for the thumb you know he’s intentionally keeping away from your clit. “Keep making those pretty sounds, baby,” Suna coaxes, using his free hand to palm his erection through his pants. Between him thrusting his long fingers into your core and Atsumu pinching your nipples with his, it’s not long before you feel the knot in your stomach threatening to come undone.

What pushes you closer to the edge is the smooth, wetness of Suna’s tongue dragging over your slit. “Rin!” you squeal, grinding your hips against his face to get as much contact with his mouth as you can. He squeezes your thighs gently, holding them in place over his shoulders where he kneels on the floor at the side of the bed. At hearing his name leave your mouth between kisses from Atsumu, he rewards your behavior by flattening his tongue against your clit and licking in broad stripes. Suddenly, a wave of ecstasy crashes over you, reducing you to a moaning mess as you cling onto Atsumu’s arms and squeeze Suna’s head between your thighs.

Your wanton cries have all three men in the room mesmerized. However, their awe quickly transforms into something more animalistic, and, in your ecstasy-induced haze, your body is nothing more than putty in their hands as they maneuver you into a different location and position on the bed. You’re vaguely aware of your own hands reaching for Atsumu’s shirt to remove it before unzipping his pants so his erection can spring free.

As you move closer to him to take his cock in your mouth, Atsumu grabs a fistful of your (h/l), (h/c) hair to keep you from doing so. “Oh, sweetheart, I love how eager you are to suck me off, but I’m dyin’ ta see whose cock you like better: mine or ‘Samu’s.” Osamu growls with irritation at this comment but feels his dick throb painfully at knowing what he’s about to witness. With that said, he relinquishes his grip on your strands of hair so that he can readjust your position, bringing you face to face with the tent in Suna’s pants.

This time, it’s him who’s threading his fingers amongst your locks, but with a much gentler and more affectionate grip than Atsumu’s, and his sandy-colored irises fasten on you as you work on unzipping his fly to give him some relief. If anything, knowing he’d just brought you to an orgasm with his mouth spurs you on to use yours so you can do the same for him. The way you eye his erection hungrily once you’ve freed it from the confines of his pants has him tugging your hair backwards to tilt your chin up towards him. He’s always wondered what it’s like to kiss those delicate lips of yours, and they look far too delectable—slightly swollen from Atsumu’s bruising kisses and glistening with the saliva he can see dripping off your tongue—for him to show any restraint now that he’s been given a free pass to do so.

“Are you gonna be good and take all of it?” he wonders, his mouth brushing against yours with each word. Your diligent nod earns you a deep kiss, and you moan into his mouth at the feeling of his tongue trailing along yours, carrying the taste of you. “Gonna drool all over my dick for me with that pretty, little mouth of yours?”

You’re barely able to let out a breathless, “Yes,” before his lips are over yours once more. But, just as quickly as his onslaught of kisses started, he’s pulling away and moving your head down south. Saliva collects in your mouth at the sheer size of him, and you cast him a demure glance up at him through your eyelashes as you lick a long trail from the base to the tip, causing a low groan to rumble in his throat.

At feeling the head of Atsumu’s cock teasing your sensitive clit, a whimper rolls off your tongue. “I’m gonna fuck this sweet, little pussy of yours so good, (f/n),” your boyfriend’s twin murmurs, his hands moving your hips so he can push the tip inside of you, “so you’d better take it like a good girl.”

“Don’t hurt ‘er, dumbass,” Osamu barks, the hand he has shoved down his sweatpants coming to a halt at the thought of your comfort being compromised by his brother’s greed and desire to show off. “She’s sensitive.”

“Oh?” Atsumu challenges as he inches more of his cock inside of you, making you remove your mouth from Suna’s dick to mewl loudly and drop your head towards the comforter. “It’s ‘cause yer not used to bein’ filled up are ya, sweetheart?” Another lascivious cry from you is stifled by the thick duvet when he snaps his hips against yours, sending himself deeper into your clenched core. “Don’t worry; I’ll take care of ya in all the ways ‘Samu can’t.”

Osamu’s face burns ever so slightly with humiliation and anger, but he finds he can’t tear his gaze away from the scene before him. He watches in silence as Atsumu’s fingers dig into the supple skin on your rear and snake around your hips, pulling you closer to him as he sheathes more of his cock in your greedy cunt. Then, his eyes are darting to where your pretty lips are wrapped around Suna’s dick, eyes gazing upwards at him in an affectionate manner that he thought was only reserved for himself.

He feels as if he should be enraged by the whole situation—by the way he’s being forced to sit and watch while his brother and his friend fuck your pussy and your mouth, respectively—but he isn’t. In spite of being excluded and having derogatory remarks thrown his way by Atsumu like daggers, he loves it. He loves every moan of their names that leaves your mouth because of how good they’re making you feel, as well as the hungry looks in their eyes at how good you’re making them feel. Because no matter what his twin says about how he’s “gonna make ya feel better than ‘Samu ever will,” he knows he’s wrong. In a scenario where Osamu should be the one feeling inferior, his ability not to lose sight of what he knows is the truth is what keeps the warmth burning in his stomach.

No matter how much you drool all over Suna’s cock while he thrusts deeply into your mouth, batting your eyelashes at him each time he sends a compliment your way, he knows whose pants you’re pulling down after he’s had a long day at work. Even as Atsumu’s hips snapping against yours reap a myriad of mewls or moans from your mouth that bring a self-satisfied smirk to his face, he’s confident that you’ll always be louder for him. Nobody knows how to treat you quite like Osamu does, and nobody knows how to fuck you like he does either.

So, as he slowly strokes himself off to the sight before him, he’s able to ignore the sting of every off-handed comment thrown his way and the sound of you begging Atsumu for more in the moments when Suna’s dick isn’t down your throat. He might as well let them have all the fun they want with you, seeing as it’ll be their last time doing so. He only intended to give them a taste of how good you are as a way of getting back at them for all of their shameless advances towards you in the first place. What’s better revenge than giving them something amazing that they can only remember, but never recreate? Nothing, he thinks.

“Lemme cum inside ya, pretty girl,” Atsumu coos, though his voice is raspy from his heavy breathing as he slams into you. Removing your mouth from Suna’s dick with a loud pop, you shake your head, making them both look at you with raised eyebrows. “Why not?” he asks.

Osamu nearly finishes on the spot when you whine, “Only ‘Samu can.”

Atsumu shoots his brother a withering look that he beats down with a smirk but obeys your wishes anyway. “Whatever ya want, princess,” he murmurs, placing a gentle kiss against your spine before continuing to thrust into you at a breakneck pace that has you crying out with ecstasy in no time.

Your breathy moans sending vibrations along Suna’s dick have him finishing inside of your mouth, and you swallow his seed as you sink into the bed once more. Atsumu’s hands keep your hips flush against his as he plunges into your spasming core until he can hardly take the sensations your body’s offering him anymore. Once it gets too much for him to handle, he obediently pulls out of you and cums on your back, spreading warmth along your skin and eliciting another whimper from you.

As you come down from your highs, you feel Suna’s long fingers stroke the side of your face affectionately, as if trying to communicate the praises he can’t find the words for. Meanwhile, Atsumu takes one last look at your back coated in his release before grabbing a tissue and cleaning you up. “So,” he mentions, interrupting himself to place a gentle kiss against the nape of your neck, “whaddya think? Did we change your mind?”

There’s not even a moment of hesitation before you shake your head and reiterate, “I’ll never leave him.” The soreness you feel settling into your body does nothing to quell the warmth in your belly, especially with the way Osamu’s gazing at you hungrily from his seat at the other end of the room. It’s almost as if your body moves by itself as you get up from the bed and shuffle over to him so you can seat yourself in his lap. “I want you, baby,” you breathe as your arms instinctively wrap around his neck.

A shit-eating grin appears on his lips as he places his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him. You moan softly at the bulge in his pants pressing against your sensitive entrance as he mentions, loudly enough for the other men in the room to hear, “How cute. Even after getting’ fucked by them two, ya still only wanna be stuffed full of my cum, huh?”

“Please.” Your plea escapes you in a soft whine when he bestows a fleeting kiss against your lips. He hums into the tender skin on your neck, eyeing Suna and Atsumu over your shoulder while he does so as if to clearly convey to them who’s won this challenge. However, his silent gloating is soon put to an end when you wriggle your hips against his, move your face closer to his ear and beg, “Please, daddy.”

In an instant, he’s barking at Suna and Atsumu to get off the bed so he can push you down onto it. “So good for me, honey.” Osamu’s loving words have you clenching around nothing as he shoves off his sweatpants and positions himself at your entrance. “Shoulda never doubted ya. I know how much you love me, don’tcha, baby girl?” he muses, flooding you with heat once more.

“Mm!” you chirp enthusiastically, “I love you so much, ‘Samu.”

His smooth voice becomes ever so slightly strained as he pulls your hips towards him, slides his cock into your warm, velvety core, and replies, “I love you too, (f/n).” Having him inside you once more brings you a pleasant sensation of comfort that you felt as if you’d been missing earlier, and you reach for one of his hands. Sensing your desire to be more connected with him, he wraps his fingers around yours and presses the back of your hand against the mattress beside your head.

You moan softly at being filled once more when he bottoms out inside of you. Glancing over at where Suna and Atsumu are sitting nearby, he comments, “Ya feel so good, honey,” and increases the volume of his voice before adding, “it’s like yer sweet, li’l pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?”

“Just for you, daddy,” you agree with a small smile, eliciting a low groan from him and spurring him to start thrusting into you with long, deep strokes. From where he’s standing at the edge of the bed, he’s able to lift your hips upwards to drive himself even deeper into you than he’s sure Atsumu could reach. Any overstimulation you felt initially has since been replaced by pleasure once more as he showers you with kisses accompanied by compliments that you confirm enthusiastically, earning you more of what you want.

“Why don’tcha tell ‘em whose cock ya love the most, baby girl?”

You cry out his name once.

“Who’s making ya feel so good right now?”

Twice.

“Who’s gonna make ya cum harder ‘nd faster?”

Thrice.

He leans down towards you to press those slow, passionate kisses against your lips that you’d missed so much, spreading your legs further and pounding into you with more speed. It’s clear he knows the map of your body that he’s made through experience like the back of his hand, since he’s able to hit that sweet spot within you time after time with more accuracy and precision than anyone else could. “Right there!” you cry, fingers dragging along the muscles rippling beneath the skin on his arms as your toes curl.

A few more thrusts send you over the edge again, and the strength of your orgasm is felt by every man in the room. Atsumu and Suna realize your cries are much louder than they were before, and Osamu smiles when he feels you squirt as your walls clench tightly around him. He doesn’t mind that you’re getting his clothes and the comforter covered in your essence—he only cares that he’s delivered the promise he’d made for you earlier. It’s not long before he reaches his high and fills you up with stuttering snaps of his hips and labored breaths. You moan breathlessly at the sensation of warmth inside your core, and let your head come to rest against the bed while he finishes inside of you.

As much as you want nothing more than to crawl under the sheets with him and rest, you’re reminded of your guests when Osamu casts his dark gaze in their direction. “Ya got whatcha wanted. Go home,” he announces, eyes narrowing at his twin brother who, along with Suna, are clearly still in awe at what they’ve witnessed. 

Turning back to you and planting a tender kiss against your collarbone while they rise to their feet and head for the door, Osamu adds deviously, “So much for rethinkin’ her decision, huh? Now ya know why she won’t.”

treat me to a coffee! ⭐︎ kinktober masterlist

taglists (see pinned post on my blog for form)

general: @dinablossom, @newfriendjen​, @devlovesramen, @ohbyunhunn, @aftcrlust, @mister-future, @kyleclxin​

osamu: @pretty-setters​, @misora-msby​, @why-aminot-dead​, @atsunakaashi​, @heyhinata​, @why-aminot-dead​

[shadowed-dancer]

How the anime enhanced the Touya mystery

Season 5 of MHA just finished adapting the Endeavour Agency Arc. While everyone has their own opinion on how the anime adaptation is doing, I wanted to take a moment to praise something that (I think) they handled really well: The Touya Mystery. Today we’re going to walk through how the anime handled this plot point, and why it worked so well.

Proud to say this post is free of manga spoilers! Today we’re ONLY talking about the anime.

Intro: What is the Touya Mystery?

The Touya mystery is the ongoing mystery of what happened to the third Todoroki son. It is foreshadowed in seasons 2 and 4, but it exists in earnest throughout season 5. It is never explicitly stated, but is instead referenced in passing by the characters, allowing the audience to try and piece everything together until it is eventually confirmed.

Disclaimer

Obviously the manga has this mystery as well, but anime as a medium has certain factors that the manga simply doesn’t have. OPs and EDs are a good example, but there’s also the way hiatuses affect the way we consume the story, as well as how the breakdown of seasons clump certain storylines closer together then they were in the manga (compare 6 months to get through Joint Training in the manga, compared to 2.5 months for the anime).

I am also aware of the theories surrounding Touya’s potential connection to a previously established character. You’ve probably seen the theory at some point, but I won’t name names just incase some of you haven’t. Either way, this post isn’t about that theory.

Finally, I’m very well aware that most viewers may not have picked up on some of the stuff I’m saying. A lot of these points are minor details, and I don’t fault anyone for missing out on that. In fact, I’m sure there are some fans out there who never even realized there was a 4th Todoroki sibling because they just... didn’t care or pay attention. I’m going at this with the mindset of someone who is very, VERY analytical, not your average viewer who’s just here to enjoy the show.

The Set Up: Season 2

We are first introduced to the Todoroki siblings way back in Season 2, Episode 10 (Todoroki’s fight with Deku in the Sports Festival). During Shoto’s flashback, we are given this frame to introduce his siblings...

We have the white-haired brother, the red-haired brother, and the sister. In this scene, the red-haired brother fumbles his soccer move and ends up falling, causing his siblings to laugh. This added movement (which was never in the manga) causes the red-haired brother to stand out slightly more than his siblings.

Now, granted, I’ve seen quite a few people who didn’t realize these were Shoto’s siblings at first. They just thought he was watching his neighbours. That’s why, if their hair colours weren’t enough to clue you in on their relationship to Shoto, we meet the sister a few episodes later (Season 2, Episode 12).

She refers to Endeavour as “dad” which informs the audience that she is also Endeavour’s child, and is therefore Shoto’s sister. It then stands to reason that the two boys she was playing with (both of whom share their hair colour with her and Shoto) would be her brothers.

The Set Up: Shout Baby

Season 4, Episode 15 gives us a new ending sequence, Shout Baby, in which we see this...

Todoroki Family photos. On the left is a photo of Shoto on his first day of school (I double checked and the sign behind him indicates some sort of entrance ceremony). On the right, we are given a photo of the sister and white-haired brother as adults.

(Despite it not being explicit, you can tell that’s the white haired brother based on context clues. He looks so similar to the kid in the flashback that it doesn’t make sense for him to be anyone else. This is of course confirmed later in the season).

However, the red-haired brother is missing, which now launches the mystery of why. Why is he not in any of the photos? And then, as the frame pans down, we get this...

A torn, burnt corner of a photograph. For a while, I had some trouble making out what that blue stuff was in the corner, but a comment on Youtube helped point out that it is the exact same Sakura tree as the one in Shoto’s photo. You can even see the branch in the same spot.

So what does this tell us? Well, it’s the same place Shoto went to school, but the photo is burnt. Is it just a burned up copy of the same photo to symbolize how Endeavour ruined Shoto’s childhood? Or is it a photo of one of the other kids attending the same school, burned for mysterious reasons?

The actual answer is that it’s an Easter egg for manga readers who already know about the red haired brother but shhhhh we’re only talking about the anime right now.

The point is, we now have intrigue.

The Set Up: Season 4

Season 4, Episode 25 gives us our first full look at the Todoroki Family, with the siblings (sans Shoto) on a visit to their mom.

We get confirmation that the man in the photo from the ED is the white haired brother, and we learn their names as well, with the sister being named Fuyumi and the white-haired brother being named Natsuo! But, just like the ending sequence, the red-haired brother is missing.

His absence is never brought up, but this is only highlighted by the fact that Fuyumi teases Natsuo for not calling often ever since going away for college. His response ISN’T “aw come on, why do you only pick on me?” or “hey, at least I’m here! Unlike [red-haired brother]”. Instead he says, “aww come on, sis, I call you guys!”

No one calls attention to the fact that one of the siblings is missing. The red-haired brother is never even mentioned, which tell us as the audience that the characters know something we don't. Whatever reason they aren’t mentioning the 3rd brother is common knowledge amongst them, so there’s no need to bring him up.

But the anime ensures we remember that, yes, there IS in fact another brother. They replay the soccer flashback as Natsuo and Fuyumi watch Endeavour’s fight from their laptop, but we are also given this...

... Our second look at the red haired brother (played when Endeavour reminisces about his family). From this, we notice that the brother is significantly shorter than his siblings. It’s also worth noting that his bangs are in front of his face, meaning we never get a clear idea of his appearance (I’ll bring this up again later).

This episode also serves as the season finale, meaning fans were treated to an entire year of hiatus to theorize on the red-haired brother.

The Mystery Starts: His Name

Season 5, Episode 2 begins the mystery-of-the-missing-brother in earnest by providing us with this quote...

“Mom’s screams, Shoto’s crying, and what happened to our big brother, Touya”

Not only is this quote the first time the red-haired brother is being directly spoken about, but it also provides us with 3 pieces of information.

FIRST: His name is Touya. We now have something to call him besides “the red-haired brother”.

SECOND: He’s Natsuo’s big brother. At this point in the series, the age order for Natsuo and Fuyumi had not been confirmed in the anime, but we now knew Natsuo is either the second oldest child, or third oldest.

Touya being Natsuo’s “big brother” means Touya is either the oldest child, or the second oldest. But the fact that Natsuo says “our big brother” does seem to indicate Touya is the big brother to all of them.

This seems to be contradictory to the fact that Touya is just so small compared to his siblings in the 2nd flashback, but it’s certainly not impossible for younger siblings to outgrow the oldest.

(Yes I know technically their age order is revealed in episode 17 but I’m trying to walk through the experience live)

THIRD: We learn something happened to Touya. We don’t know what, but it’s implied to be bad. At the very least, it implies that whatever happened led to Touya no longer seeing his family.

The Mystery Continues: Quirk Singularity

In Season 5, Episode 3, the anime adds a fun visual while Deku explains the Quirk Singularity Doomsday Theory (the theory that, as quirks combine through generations, kids will end up with stronger and stronger quirks with bodies that cannot control them).

In the manga, this is just Deku talking to All Might, but the anime adds the same flashbacks Endeavour had during his Nomu fight for some visual intrigue. Not only does this flashback remind us that the Todoroki siblings exist, but it implies that they are somehow connected to the Quirk Singularity Theory (Shoto is shown as an example of how quirks combine to create stronger quirks, but perhaps we’ll learn some more about Touya to connect him to the theory as well).

The Mystery Continues: Touya’s Quirk

Season 5, Episode 7 gives us another flashback to Shoto’s childhood. Here, Endeavour comments on some very interesting details of Touya’s quirk...

“Touya was close. He had more firepower than me, but he had Rei’s weak constitution. He... was close”

It’s also worth noting that the English Dub of this scene has Endeavour end this line with, “He was close, until...”

So what does this teach us?

FIRST: The English Dub implies he was doing well UNTIL something happened. Was it the incident that Natsuo was referring to? Either way, it has once again created intrigue.

SECOND: Touya had a fire quirk, and it was even stronger than Endeavour’s (hey, look at that, kind of like quirk singularity, right? How the next generation gets stronger than their parents?).

Viewers may have been able to theorize that Touya had a fire quirk based purely on his hair colour (think of how Shoto’s hair represents which side produces which quirk) but this line gives us solid confirmation on his quirk.

THIRD: Touya “had Rei’s weak constitution”. Now, it’s debatable on what exactly a “weak constitution” means. Is this referring to his resolve? Was he too passive? Or is this referring to something else? (Perhaps Rei’s physical constitution?)

Well, wouldn’t you know it, but all the way back in Season 5, Episode 2 (the same one where we learn Touya’s name, go figure) we hear this exact phrase used in reference to the original OFA user... but ONLY in the English Dub.

Here’s what AFO says in the sub...

“My brother is frail”

...vs the dub

“My little brother has a weak constitution”

This gives us a direct reference point that a “weak constitution” in this series can be another way of saying someone is frail (and even if you don’t want to cross reference the dub and sub, OFA is portrayed as weak no matter what). This seems to tie in well with the fact that Touya was so much smaller and appeared weaker than his supposed younger siblings.

The Through Line: Arc Rearrangement

If you didn’t know, I’m here to tell you that the anime pulled a little sneaky on us manga readers by rearranging the arcs.

The manga originally went from Joint Training to (the upcoming arc) to Endeavour Agency, and while the anime has kept these events in the same chronological order, it changed the way they were presented to us. Endeavour Agency has been put first, which means we get more Touya information a heck of a lot closer to the rest of his reveals, compared to the manga.

Regardless of how you personally feel about the arc rearrangement, it works wonders for Touya’s mystery. Endeavour is sprinkled throughout many episodes of the Joint Training Arc in the anime, so it feels rather natural to go straight to the Agency Arc because Endeavour is acting as our narrative through line. He’s been a reoccurring presence, so it doesn’t feel as if he’s coming out of nowhere. 

The Reward: The Photo

If you’ve been paying attention to the clues the series has left regarding the missing Todoroki child, you are rewarded in Season 5, Episode 17.

The episode is rather... flashback heavy, but it does a good job reminding us of all the Todoroki drama before we head to the dinner. And at the end of the episode (literally the last thing we see before the ED), observant viewers who have been keeping track of Touya are rewarded when we finally get to see...

... Touya’s face. The first instance where it’s unobstructed. There he is. The missing Todoroki son. He’s so cute!

(Also yes yes I know his hair is now white and I’m sure that was very confusing for anime onlies. However, I promise it is the same kid.)

But, perhaps more importantly, we learn the implication that Touya is dead. His photo is on a shrine where Endeavour is praying, and the shrine seems to be set up in a child’s room that has remain unchanged (small shoes, a soccer ball, and toys on the bookshelf, all of which seem to be too young for any of the living Todoroki siblings). Suddenly it becomes all too clear why the family didn’t bring him up that often, and why Natsuo was so upset about “what happened to our big brother, Touya”.

The Tease: What Comes Next?

Season 5, Episode 18 leaves us with a teaser for the future of Keeping Up With The Todoroki's.

Touya’s death is confirmed, and we even learn a bit more on the circumstances surrounding it, as we learn Endeavour feels responsible for whatever happened. We also learned that Natsuo blames Endeavour, hinting that he certainly played some part in it.

However, all of these hints lead to a story for another time (more likely Season 6, to be precise). I won’t spoil what exactly happens, but I can confirm that we eventually see Touya’s death and the events leading up to it through flashback, and I’m honestly so excited.

Perhaps I’ll make a part 2 to this post when the anime gets to that point.

Hope you enjoyed!

[lantsovsupremacist]

I was wondering if you could do a Nikolai fic w a Tidemaker reader who works for him on the Volkvony ?

whenever i read nikolai stuff, i imagine his girl to be a tide maker. so, of course it’s my honor to make this happen 🙏🙏 also i got carried away and there will most certainly be a part 2 🤪🤪

mijn dochter: my daughter (i went with dutch because that’s what kerch is supposedly influenced by)!

nikolai lantsov: mirror ball

it all began out of desperation, as most things in your life often did.

born into a family of ten living on the farmlands of kerch, there were always too many mouths to feed. despite the nature of your family’s occupation, whatever could be harvested or slain for food often ended up sent to the markets to try and keep up with the land payments. it was this necessity to help your family (an expectation of yourself as the middle child as much as your younger siblings) that kept you from attending school the day testing occurred. considered the bottom of the lowest class, nobody deemed you important enough to reschedule a test or even find you a spot for the next year’s round.

you believed the position of the testers. it was not because you felt particularly unimportant, just that there was no history of grisha in your family or few you had ever come into contact with. in fact, watching the older kids get tested was your only example of grisha power. a lack of suitable education did not help your case. so, you disregarded the event or lack thereof quickly after it passed.

however, when you pulled the tide in to help the withering crops survive one summer—out of sheer desperation—you could no longer ignore the possibility. the land only needed to close in to the sound by a few feet in order for the water to saturate the fields properly. it could have been a trick of a weary mind. you might not have even realized what had happened if not for your father’s startled gasp.

he muttered a single word, grisha. anything else was unintelligible under his breath—likely a slew of curses. he had even less of an education than you and your siblings. for months, you pleaded for your parents to pretend as if nothing had changed. your oldest brother knew the word for it: tidemaker. one of his best friend’s at school, their older sister had been one. but, she had been taken away. you could not imagine leaving your fields and the sun that hung above them.

you did not want to be a danger to your family, what with the way in which discovered grisha were treated in kerch’s cities. you could only hide for so long. in addition to this worry, you believed by using this resource, you could find better pay to send home. it was not the second army you desired to join but perhaps, some freelance work.

the volkvony was much larger than the scattered fishing boats dotting the coast. even those you saw rarely, the docks being miles outside your town. the pirateer’s vessel and those occupying it radiated power. the reminder of your own ability did little to ease your anxiety.

you mother’s final parting words rang in your head, and you held onto the echo for as long as you could.

“you are a fierce force to be reckoned with, mijn dochter.”

right now with your knees knocking and shoulders shaking, you hardly felt it. your mother often remarked you showed courage in different ways. you might have paled at standing up to the bully that had broken your sister’s arm as a child and allowed your eldest brother to physically retaliate, but your calm nature quieted her cries as you held her gently, waiting for help. you knew that even when he did not verbally express it, your father still appreciated how you took it upon yourself to care for the little ones, handle the crises at home. you made life work for everybody.

your littlest brother, espen, would think you were strong despite the obvious nerves riddling your form. before you left, he hugged you goodbye with all of the strength his two-year-old body could muster, imbuing you with it. his childlike magic satiated any apprehension that came your way on the voyage to the boat’s docking in ketterdam—a city’s whose reputation limited your visits to three occasions in eighteen years. and when it faded, because it always did, you held tight to baby noa’s fairly like giggles, each one of her accompanied smiles locked carefully away in your heart.

even with living a life largely locked on land, the water brought a unique sense of calm to your restless spirit. to any onlooker, your closed eyes and deep breaths by the banks could be attributed to the anticipation of adventure. however, anyone who truly knew your heart would understand the greater impact of the tides. they might even notice the slight curl of your lip or scrunch of your nose, the actions of concentration supporting the delicate ripples of waves on the edge of the sound.

a voice from behind you nearly caused you to jump right off of the dock. one might think that growing up in a household of ten, you would be painfully aware of your surroundings. that could not be father from the case. you did not intend to walk through life stuck in your own head, but it was a habit.

“we’re boarding now,” the same person spoke again, “you’re our new tidemaker, right?”

“that’s right,” you annunciated softly with a nod of your head.

now having stepped forward, you identified the figure to be a girl a few years your elder. with short cropped hair and a glint in her eyes, she intimidated you. however, her tone was kind and seemed welcoming.

“i’m tamar and that,” she extended a hand to point, “is my brother toyla. heartrenders.”

you nodded again, rolling your lips into your mouth. following behind her, you strung your bag over your shoulder and avoided the more worn planks on the dock. the wood was speckled with age.

“how long have you been in the harbor?” you questioned, genuine curiosity in your words.

“only a few days,” she replied without turning her head, opting to keep her gaze ahead as she weaved through the crowd, “ketterdam intrigues sturmhond, but he never keeps us here for too long.”

recognizing the captain’s name who had graciously offered you a position onboard the volkvolny only two days prior, you continued after tamar. you remembered his crooked jaw and nose that had obviously been broken before. however, the ease of his smile and light in his eyes gave you the push to accept. he had approached you in the spot which you had stood only this morning and caught you in a similar position. he had been uniquely attentive.

the way he revealed that he had caught onto your ability with the ripples in the shallow water still caught you by surprise and perhaps, amusement. he had asked you to help him skip a rock. you smiled at the memory now, a small but authentic one only for yourself.

“are all of the hands grisha?” you asked another question, careful to lower your voice.

home to various brothels, pleasure houses, and gambling dens, as well as gangs, ketterdam could trap grisha in servitude if they were not vigilant. this and the general boisterous nature of the city were largely your reasons for avoiding it. you preferred the tranquility and predictability of the countryside, where all that stood out among the plains were the occasional rolling hill and far away slopes of mountain.

your older brother coen studied in the most acceptable part of the city on a scholarship, the only one of your siblings (including yourself) that showed enough intellectual promise to merit pursuing an education over farm work. the only other member of your family to dare encounter the barrel was lotte. given she was now estranged and likely involved in gang work, her possible presence did little to soothe you.

“oh, no,” tamar answered, “in fact, most aren’t. we try and keep it quiet.”

humming in response, you used the handrail to board the ship. you took a deep breath to quell any remaining anxiety. once your feet touched the hull, there would be no room for fear or at least, any expression of it. you were used to keeping to yourself, your head down and hands working.

the salt air filled your lungs easily, and you were greedy for more. it left a pleasant enough taste in your mouth. you realized you were content here and wondered if you might even find happiness on the ship.

after showing you to the quarters you would share with two other girls, you straightened your cot and placed your bag underneath it. you made quick work of braiding your hair back, pacing the room as you did so. there was work to be done, and you would be sure to see to it.

grounding yourself to steady the spinning of the room, you faced your things one more time and headed out to the deck above. for once, you were surrounded by people like you. while this did not quite give you confidence, there was a semblance of reassurance flickering in your heart.

you no longer needed to be perfect for everyone else. though your family was still largely your responsibility as they would receive a portion of your wages, you no longer had to pace your interactions with each member. if you wanted to, you could be as loud and lively as the rest of the crew surely was. scrunching your nose at the thought, you stepped by an empty crate and up the stairs. you liked being quiet. it gave you the headspace to observe others.

a long life of making the lives of your younger siblings and parents easier gave you little time to think for yourself or about yourself. maybe this adventure was all a farce to finally please yourself, to learn to believe in yourself, but you had forced it to be about the others. always placing the focus away. that was an easier story to believe rather than accepting that maybe, you were doing something for yourself and maybe, that was okay.

perhaps it should have made you nervous, but you were a shy version of excited at the idea of testing out each variant of yourself to see which one you believed in most. you had shown everyone else what they wanted or needed to see for many years. you needed to live for yourself now.

you had a right to the sea and you were determined to take advantage of it.

[georgiadixon]

Hi, I just binge read your writing and it's so cute I just can't get this idea of out my head but what if the reader (any pronouns) starts carrying around a notebook to jot down things they find interesting when Spencer goes on his rambles. And no one really notices what they're noting down until Spencer finds the book on the plane because they forgot it

remember

pairing: spencer reid x reader

genre/warnings: fluff fluff fluff! spencer feeling insecure

a/n (to anon): hi, ty!! oh i just love when spencer’s partner appreciates & encourages his rambles because he doesn’t really get that with the team. our boy deserves passion! i’m going to turn this into a little something if that’s ok! :)

spencer reid, to everyone who knows him, is complicated. he doesn’t disagree, but he’s sometimes confused as to why the people closest to him don’t see right through him. they may not think about it often, but the side glances and the subtle comments are telling. he loves his friends, he values them but he’s been through a lot. years worth of trauma manifesting in anger and anxiety and his friends chalk it up to complicated.

he doesn’t think anyone truly understands him.

he doesn’t think anyone has ever tried to.

but while he sits and wonders about just how alone he might be, you’re sitting and wondering what you did to deserve him in your life.

because to you, spencer reid is the most beautifully complicated man you have ever known.

you never knew watching someone stir their coffee (with an insane amount of sugar) in a mug with a label reading their name could be so intriguing.

or that the squeaky sound of converse on the sixth level floor could make you feel so safe.

it’s like every little thing that doesn’t mean anything means everything because it’s him.

you’re fairly certain he doesn’t know this, but when his voice picks up from his information bursts, when he starts speaking faster and his eyes light up with something you can only describe as passion you can’t help but feel like it’s your favorite thing in the world. like you’d sit there and listen to him intently for the rest of your life if that’s what would make him happy.

you can’t deny the inevitable crush for him that snuck up on you until it slammed into you full force. now you’re not sure if anyone else could ever make you feel the way he does.

the smiles for no reason, the soft and comforting touches somehow exactly when you need them, the thoughtfulness and the all around pleasantness of his company is something you wouldn’t trade for the world, and something you don’t think you’ll ever be able to give enough of back.

that might be the reason why you’re huddled in the corner of the jet, pen and notebook in hand with “things spencer told me that i want to remember” written at the top of the open page. and it might be the reason why “and things i can learn about to impress him” is written underneath it. it might be why you’re staring at him with a look of pure adoration in your eyes as he talks to your friends and tells them all about something new.

but the week full of nonstop work with no sleep could also be the reason for the last one, as well as your near delirious state as you feel yourself drifting off.

your eyes close just as spencer glances at you, a smile appearing on his face with how peaceful you look. he stands and walks towards you with the blanket that was in his lap to give to you. as he’s covering you with his blanket he can’t help but think about how right it would feel to do this every day. to have you with him every day.

he’s looking at you and he remembers how lucky he is to have you in his life. he doesn’t think you’ll ever know just how much a smile from you means on a bad day. or how much he appreciates you asking if he wants to talk, even though he never does. he knows you’re probably just being nice, but something in him really hopes you feel something a little more. his heart stars to swell at the thought but he remembers why he doesn’t let himself think like this, because it would be damning himself to hope that you would ever look twice at him.

a voice in the background tells him they’re landing soon, so he takes his seat and wonders what you’re dreaming about, selfishly wishing it’s him.

by the time you open your eyes you’re back in virginia, having slept through the rest of the flight. you rub your eyes and yawn, ready to go home and get a real night’s sleep for the first time in a week. you stand and grab your go bag to leave the jet, forgetting your notebook and pen in the seat.

from not paying attention and your sight still a little blurry from sleep you bump into someone, big hands grabbing your shoulders so you don’t fall.

you look up and it’s spencer, still trying to gracefully regain his balance and not succeeding.

when he gets control of his feet he pushes his hair back and smiles. that smile. the one that makes everything better and felt so real in a distant dream.

“did you get some good sleep?”

he asks you, putting the book he was reading away and his satchel over his shoulder.

“not good enough.” you say with a rough voice as you’re still half asleep.

he giggles a bit in the way that he does, the way that you’ve committed to memory to replay when you’re missing him.

you wish you could stay here with him forever, but you know you need to rest and you’ll see him soon.

“night, spence.” you smile softly at him as you head out the door.

“goodnight, y/n.” he responds with his little wave and something bright in his eyes you probably won’t remember tomorrow.

he moves to follow you out the jet when he notices something you left behind. he turns to see if you’re still there, but when he knows he’s the only one left on the jet he goes to retrieve it for you.

he picks up the notebook and begins to put it away, but your handwriting on the top of the open page catches his eye.

“things spencer told me that i want to remember”

he’s not sure if he’s reading it right, if he actually sees his name on the page. if the one he would move the moon and stars for really cares enough about him to not only listen to him but care about what he’s saying. he wasn’t sure anyone did.

“and things i can learn about to impress him”

oh, that does him in. he feels tears behind his eyes but they’re pushed back at thoughts of you thinking you would ever have to do anything but be yourself for him to love you. to want you. to need you.

he knows he wants to ask you about it, but he doesn’t think he should.

he figures some things are better left unsaid.

still, he begins to think of all the things he’s ever wanted to say to you.

he walks off and smiles to himself.

thanks for reading! feel free to send me asks!!

[sugarskies]

[NWH SPOILERS] - worth the risk (fanfic)

“Can I ask you a question?”

[spoilers below the cut or click here to read on ao3]

Peter Three nodded when MJ approached him, patting the seat beside him, and offering his bag of chips. The fact that Mango Salsa had lost Do Us a Flavor in his universe was absolutely criminal. He briefly wondered if he might be able to smuggle some back with him, only for MJ to refuse the chips and offer her inquiry.

“Have you met your universe’s MJ?” Her tone was overwhelmingly curious but also gentle, like she knew it was a sensitive point and she didn’t want to push too far too fast. He appreciated that. “You don’t have to tell me, I know Gwen was the love of your life. It’s just the way you look at me, and even Pastor Spider over there when he—”

“Yeah.” Peter smiled, intrigued by her level observation. He tossed the bag of chips on the table, wiping his hands off before turning to meet her eyes. “Yeah, I’ve met my MJ.”

“Are you—?”

“No.”

“Have you thought about—?”

“No. I mean, yes, so many times, but…” Gwen died because of Spider-Man. Because of him. He took a deep breath. “I don’t want to put anyone else in danger.”

“Right. And have you considered therapy? Because if you hadn’t noticed, you are deeply, deeply traumatized, my friend.”

He snorted, pushing one hand back through his hair. “Thanks. Thanks so much. But seriously, yes, I’ve considered therapy. I’m— I’m in therapy. That’s where I realized how much anger I’ve been holding onto. And it’s where I met MJ, actually.”

“In therapy?” The look on her face said she should probably take a trip there herself. Peter decided to put a pin in that for later.

“Technically outside therapy, but yeah. We bumped into each other—my fault, I was stressed and I wasn’t paying attention—and somehow, we ended up getting coffee. I tried to cut it off before it went too far but then it turned out we went to the same university, so…”

“You really like her, don’t you?” Peter’s face twisted immediately. He opened his mouth to respond, but she continued before he could. “You started staring off into space and got that ridiculous Peter Parker smile on your face when you mentioned her.”

Peter went to reply again, but snapped his mouth shut. It was weird to have to correct her, but it didn’t scare him. MJ had to have figured out how many little differences there were in their universes. Different Peters, different flavors of chips…

Different chromosomes.

“Yeah, okay, you got me.” She was right. That stupid smile was already on his face again. “I really like him.”

MJ’s brow furrowed for the briefest second before realization crossed her eyes and her entire expression softened. “When this is over, tell him.”

“I can’t put him in danger. I can’t—” Lose him the way I lost Gwen.

“Just take it slow. Show him who Peter Parker is before you start worrying about Spider-Man.”

“Really, I appreciate it, but I’m not going to—”

“Tell him.”

“No, I just said that I—”

“Tell. Him.”

“I’m not going to take advice from—”

“Tell him.”

“Okay.” Technically, he didn’t have to follow through with it. This MJ would never know if he did or not. But somehow, the agreement felt like a promise he couldn’t break. “I’ll tell him.”

“Good.” MJ’s hand slid on top of Peter’s suddenly, giving it a reassuring squeeze. This universe’s Peter had really lucked out with her. “You deserve good things in your life.”

“I know. I— I’m learning how to let myself have them.”

“Well, this is the first step. When you get home, you tell him how you feel, and then that MJ can pressure you into taking care of yourself.”

With that, MJ gave him a smile and stood up, crossing the room to reunite with her own Peter Parker. He watched them for a moment, the way they giggled together and squeezed each other’s fingers. He hadn’t done that with anyone since Gwen. He hadn’t let himself do that with anyone since Gwen.

But maybe this MJ was right. Maybe he did deserve a second chance, and on the off chance that he didn’t, maybe he didn’t care anymore. If he repeated it to himself enough times, maybe, just maybe, he’d start to believe he was worth the risk.

[kpop-zone]

Dating High School Blackpink

Jisoo

The valedictorian

She’s by far the most ambitious girl in school

All the high school drama couldn’t be more unimportant to her

She’s only focused on her studies

And on making her report card look better by joining strategically clever extracurriculars

She only keeps a small number of friends really close

Although she still treats the other students politely and helps them out wherever she can (resulting in her being the class president every year)

But she never really lets any of them close

That’s why you were really surprised when you learned that you had caught her attention

You had been in love with her ever since you started high school

But you had never dared to talk to her because she’s not so lowkey scary

There had been countless others who had tried to woo her

Because despite being a huge nerd, her beauty and unapproachability intrigued everyone

No one ever had a chance with her though

She simply ignored their advances or politely turned them down

So you didn’t even bother to talk with her

But one day in class, she came to talk with you

Your teacher had told you to find a partner for your final project

And suddenly Jisoo popped up in front of you

“Do you want to be my partner?”

Her question had totally caught you off guard and you stared at her with an open mouth

After embarrassing yourself for another painful minute, you eventually managed to shake off your trance and accepted her offer by simply nodding your head

“Ok, great. Meet me in the library after your classes end.”

Without awaiting your answer, she walked away but you wouldn’t have dared to disagree with her anyways

Therefore, you nervously made your way to the library after your classes had ended

Jisoo was already sitting at one of the tables, waiting for you with her school supplies neatly placed in front of her

She didn’t waste any time before starting with your project

Although she seemed to be trailing off several times while you were working

“He was involved with the Medici. They are from Italy. Do you like Italian food?”

You hadn’t expected her to ask you such personal questions, but you didn’t question her method and answered everything without hesitation

It wasn’t until two weeks later that you just weren’t able to ignore Jisoo’s weird behavior any longer

You had wondered right from the start why she had asked you for daily meetings although she seemed to know everything about the project already

Your confusion reached its peak on your last meeting one day before the deadline

Jisoo was completely out of it, fidgeting about on her chair and rambling about random things

“Are you ok? Are you nervous because of the project?”

You asked concerned but Jisoo immediately shook her head

“No, we’ll get an A. Do you want to go on a date with me?”

She blurted out, managing to catch you completely off guard

But you couldn’t say that you didn’t find her straightforwardness extremely attractive

Therefore, you -of course- said yes

The two of you agreed that she would pick you up at seven the same day

She ended up arriving five minutes early at your house and introduced herself to your parents (because she’s a classy girl), managing to woo them in a matter of seconds

After you had left your house, she managed to surprise you another time

You had thought that she would go with a safe choice -having dinner or watching a movie- but instead, she took you stargazing and prepared a fancy picknick with homemade food

And you fell for her even harder, so you didn’t hesitate when she asked you for a second date...and then a third and then a fourth...

On your fourth date she finally confessed to you that she had been in love with you forever

But just like you, she had been too shy to tell you

When the teacher had asked you to pick a partner though, she had decided to grab the chance

So she had used the two weeks that you had to work together to find out more about you and to plan the perfect dates (which she had clearly nailed)

You were completely enraptured by her confession

Therefore, you didn’t even need to think when she asked you to make your relationship official

And ever since, you are a dream team

You are a well-balanced couple

Although Jisoo is still very focused on her studies, she never neglects you

She always makes sure to have enough time for you and never stops being the most charming person on earth

Even though you are already hers, she still takes you on fancy dates and flirts with you as if she still needed to woo you

“Excuse me? Have we met before? I feel like I’ve seen your face before... Oh yeah, I remember now. It was in the dictionary next to the word ‘gorgeous’!”

She will hit you with pick up lines like that out of the blue

You always roll your eyes because of her cheesiness but secretly, you enjoy it

Jisoo also helps you to study

You had never been a terrible student, but sometimes you lack motivation

Your girlfriend has plenty of ways to motivate you though

“I will give you a kiss for every exercise that you solve correctly.”

So, since you started dating Jisoo, your grades had gotten exponentially better

In return for your girlfriend’s assistance, you help her to ease up a bit

You force her to accompany you to parties and to go out with her friends more often

She always whines, but in the end, she’s grateful that you managed to lure her out of her room

Everyone else is jealous of your perfect relationship

Never had the two of you ever been caught fighting

You even got voted first in the category ‘Couple who’s most likely to get married first’ in the yearbook

Because you just look right together

Although Jisoo isn’t a big fan of PDA and at most, allows you to hold her hand in public, the two of you still manage to cause some agitated whispers every time you walk through the hallways together

Everyone simply wants to know how you managed to woo her

But just like Jisoo doesn’t care about the rumors about others, she doesn’t care about the rumors about herself either

She’s perfectly content with everything that she has

And you are perfectly content with everything that you have too

Jennie

The rich girl

She’s by far the most popular girl in school

Everyone who’s befriended with her is considered a cool kid

Her clique frequently makes the hallways its catwalk

Because all her friends manage to significantly upgrade their school uniforms with expensive accessories

Especially Jennie looks like she stepped right out of Gossip Girl

Her look is usually completed by a headband, a shiny brooch, and the newest Chanel bag

The moment she steps out of her family’s Porsche in the morning, the head of every single person in the school turns around

There are only two kinds of people on the planet: people who want to be like her and people who want to be with her

You belong to the second kind

Ever since you had first spotted her, you were head over heels in love with her

But of course, you had never dared to talk with her, because you weren’t considered a cool kid

You just stole secret glances at her like all the other lovesick fools at school

Until the goddess of destiny decided to let you find a grain of corn one day

You had agreed with your friends that you would meet in the stadium to watch the soccer match of your school team together

As usual, however, they texted you shortly beforehand that they would be late

So you ended up sitting all by yourself in the stands, grumpily waiting for your friends to keep you company

Just when you thought that you had to be the unluckiest person on earth though, everything turned to the better

“Are you all by yourself?”

You instantly recognized her voice and whipped your head to the side in lightning speed

Jennie was standing next to you with her friends lining up behind her

You were so shocked that she had noticed you that you weren’t able to utter a single word

But Jennie didn’t seem to mind

“I wanna sit here, guys.”

She said to her friends over her shoulder who sat down obediently

“Hi, I’m Jennie. What’s your name?”

She flashed you the most beautiful smile that you had ever seen, making you blush profusely, but this time you were quick to respond to her question to stop making a fool of yourself

“Y/N!”

You blurted out breathlessly and Jennie’s smile grew even bigger

“Nice to meet you, Y/N! Here, cheer with us!”

She pressed a banner and some pom poms that her friends had brought into your hands before starting to cheer for your school team

You were still completely dumbfounded by the fact that the Jennie Kim was sitting next to you right now, but didn’t dare to disobey her wish

So you started cheering for your team too, causing her to grin at you happily

Till your friends finally decided to appear, you were almost feeling like a part of Jennie’s friend group

She had made sure to introduce you to the others and to incorporate you into their conversations

And to your surprise they were actually a lot more approachable than you had thought

If you were honest, they seemed to be fairly normal teenagers

(except when they asked you if you would also attend fashion week next month)

The evening flew by and when it was time to go home, sadness overcame you because you were sure that you would never talk to them again

But everything came differently the next day at school

“Y/N! Come here! Sit with us!”

As soon as Jennie had seen you entering the cafeteria, she waved you and your friends over

Perplexed, you stared at her, but your friends pushed you into her direction

Everyone in the cafeteria stared at you as you made your way over to the cool kids and started to whisper behind your back

But Jennie didn’t pay attention to anyone but you

She patted the seat right beside her and continued to eat as if it were just a normal lunch break

From that day on, your friends and you had fixed seats at the table of the cool kids

They always waved you over during lunch break

And also started chatting with you when you ran into each other in the hallways like you had always belonged to them

Especially Jennie always seemed to make an effort to see you as often as possible

You didn’t really think much of it at first

Until your friends couldn’t take your obliviousness anymore and told you that Jennie was having a crush on you

You laughed at their ridiculousness, but in the following weeks you noticed that Jennie truly always acted a bit shy around you

You began to doubt your certainty that the Jennie Kim could never be in love with you, and you became a nervous mess around her too

(It was pure torture to watch the two of you for everyone else)

So your friends hyped you up until you finally had enough courage and asked her out for homecoming

You had never seen a happier person in your life before

Jennie smiled with her whole face and instantly agreed

The two of you became the talk of the night

But once again, Jennie only had eyes for you

She even fled the coronation of the homecoming queen

Because she didn’t want to dance with anyone else

So the two of you stole away and talked on the stairs in front of the school instead

You talked all night until more and more students left the dance and you figured that it was time to bring Jennie home

But before you could stand up, she stopped you

“Wait, there’s actually something I wanted to do before we leave.”

Expectantly, you looked at her and to your surprise Jennie suddenly leaned in

Your lips met and you completely froze until she pulled away when someone bolted out of the door behind you

You stared at her in complete shock, but Jennie just smiled at you

“Ok, we can go now.”

She held out her hand to you and you took it speechlessly

Together you made your way back home with your fingers intertwined

When you looked to the side, you could see that Jennie was still grinning from ear to ear and you started to ease up

Like two Cheshire cats you walked through the city, giggling sheepishly every now and then when your eyes met

And you were sure that you had to be the happiest person on the planet

Ever since that night Jennie and you are a couple

And you are allowed to see more and more of her world, realizing that people just had way too much fantasy

Not even half of the rumors that circulate about her and her friends are true

Jennie is not at all that scary, arrogant rich girl that everyone always makes her out to be

She’s just a normal teenager who tries to survive high school

Everyone had just put her in a box, because of her family’s money

She doesn’t think that she’s superior to others because of her family’s money at all though

Although you do have to stop her sometimes from spoiling you too much

Because whenever she sees something that she thinks you could like, she simply buys it

And when you’re getting food together, she always wants to pay

But you convinced her at one point to alternate because you want to spoil her too from time to time

Although she doesn’t really want you to spend a lot of money on her

“If you want to spoil me, then give me endless cuddles.”

She usually says and who were you to disagree?

Generally, Jennie is someone who isn’t too shy to show her love for you publicly

She always makes sure to keep you close by her side

As soon as you are together, your bodies are attached to each other in some way

Either your girlfriend will hold your hand, interlink your arms, place her hand on your leg or sit in your lap

Your friends always tease you about it when you go out together

But Jennie couldn’t care less

She loves you with all her heart and she wants everyone to know that you’re hers

Chaeyoung

The choir girl

She’s a sweetheart

Everyone knows her

And everyone loves her

Because she’s in a billion different clubs at school (she can’t say no...)

Cheerleading, prom committee, glee club, choir, creative writing club...

But her only real passion is music

In 99% of the cases when she’s not in class, she can be found in the choir room

Usually, she just strums away on a guitar or plays piano

Often she leaves the window open and her beautiful voice mesmerizes everyone on the schoolyard

The 1% of the time that she isn’t in the choir room, she can be found in the cafeteria

All the cafeteria ladies know her by name

And they are all whipped for her

She always gets an extra scoop or sometimes she even gets some special menu

And as her best friend, you enjoy the same benefits as well

You can’t remember a time that you weren’t with her

She’s your best friend ever since you can think

The two of you live in the same street

And grew up playing together

Ever since elementary school you also attend the same schools

So at one point in your live it literally seemed like you were seeing each other 24/7

That’s why you don’t really know when your relationship had changed

It was more of a creeping process

Even as children you liked to pretend that you were a married couple when you were playing

It was also normal for the two of you to hold hands wherever you were going

Therefore, you can’t really tell when you turned from friends to lovers

Neither of you were simply ever interested in anyone else

And when you moved on to middle school together, everyone assumed that you were a couple

And you didn’t bother to correct them

It wasn’t until the end of middle school though that you actually kissed for the first time

You were having one of your many sleepovers

And all the pent-up uncertainty and emotions that both of you had been feeling finally reached their limit

So when you were facing each other on your bed and Chaeyoung’s gaze flickered to your lips, you just leaned in

It was just a short and sweet peck on the lips

But when Chaeyoung giggled happily afterwards, it didn’t fail to make a million butterflies erupt in your stomach

And you knew that this definitely would not be the last time

Since then you are officially a couple

Although you actually spend less time together ever since you transferred to high school

Because both of you have quite busy schedules

That did not change the importance that you have in each other’s lives though

Chaeyoung is still the first person that you tell every important and not so important thing in your life and vice versa

And both of you are still completely uninterested in anyone else

Although there are of course a lot of jocks who want to woo Chaeyoung because she’s the captain of the cheerleading squad

But she is always quick to turn everyone down

Managing to break a lot of hearts in the process

Because she’s very bad at hiding the disgust in her face whenever someone flirts with her

So you usually laugh away all the advances of her admirers

Plus, most students know that the two of you are dating anyways

After all, you are one of those annoyingly cute couples

You have lunch together every day and wait for each other after school to walk home together

Chaeyoung also holds your hand at all times or interlinks your arms

So sometimes it seems like the two of you are magnets

And someone who doesn’t know you would probably think that you had just fallen in love

Because everyone can see that you’re completely crazy about each other

Especially when your girlfriend surprises you with small, sweet gestures

When you have a test, for example, she always makes sure to slip your favorite snack into your backpack

Or she leaves random cute notes in your locker when you have different classes all day long

In return, you always visit her at the choir room to bring her snacks when she forgets time once again

Often, you also study there instead of in the library, because you can never get enough of your girlfriend’s voice

That’s also why you would never miss one of her performances

No matter whether it’s a singing, dancing or reciting performance

You are her biggest fan

Although Chaeyoung always gets really shy when you praise her afterwards

But of course, you end up praising her even more, just to see her blush

When the two of you are not at school, you usually like to hang out at one of your houses

Often you have “study dates” which are not really used for studying though

You always plan to study, but end up doing other things instead

The longest time you had ever managed to stay focused was 15 minutes

It’s just too distractive for the two of you to be in one room

Usually you end up talking or making out all day long

So sometimes you don’t even bother to bring your books when you go to Chaeyoung’s house

Why should you study if you could have a picnic with your girlfriend and her cute puppy instead or watch some stupid variety show together?

Most of the time your procrastination isn’t too harmful for your report cards either

So neither of you feels too bad for not doing what you were supposed to

After all, time that you spent together is never wasted

Because even after all these years, you could never get bored of each other

Every moment that you spend together is special

Lalisa

The troublemaker

The moment that you had met Lisa for the first time, you knew that she would turn your life upside down

She is not your average high school student

She is just there to have a good time

Theoretically, she is smart and talented enough to join countless clubs (like the Foreign Language Club)

But practically, that’s too much work for her

The same applies to sports clubs

It takes no genius to see that she’s athletic as hell

But she doesn’t like the pack behavior that comes with those clubs

The only activity that she had ever tried was cheerleading because dancing is her passion

But it was way too restrictive for her

She hated following the lame choreographies of her coach

Plus, there had been too much drama for her with the other girls

Many of them had been jealous because they couldn’t keep up with her

So, Lisa simply left the squad again

She just wants to get through school without any stress or drama

Although she unfortunately has the talent to frequently get herself in quite a lot of trouble

Her favorite offense is to fall asleep during her classes

And one of her gravest ones is accidentally blowing up the chemistry lab

She never means to cause trouble

But the frequency of her accidents has earned her a reputation as troublemaker

Therefore, it is no surprise that the two of you had met in detention for the first time

Your teacher had guided you to the gym where Lisa was already waiting

She had instantly caught your eye although she seemed to be a be a bit shy

“Lisa! Nice to see you here...again. You know the drill. Everything needs to be squeaky clean.”

Those were the words that the teacher had said before leaving Lisa and you alone

For a few awkward seconds, the two of you just stole sheepish glances at each other

But then Lisa eventually piped up

“What are you here for?”

She asked while grabbing a mop and starting to clean the old, smelly gym

“I punched a guy for stealing a kid’s lunch money.”

You replied casually, causing her to stare at you in surprise for a second

Eventually she managed to recover herself though and nodded impressed

“Dope.”

From that moment, the ice between the two of you was broken

And you started to chat while mopping the floors

The time flew by as you learned more and more about each other

You found that you had more in common than just your inclination to get yourself in trouble

Your taste in music was pretty similar and you could also not argue with Lisa’s choice of absolute must-watch movies

After a while, your punishment didn’t even seem so bad anymore

If you were honest, you were glad to be stuck in your school’s smelly gym right now

Subconsciously, you had even started to clean slower just so that you could spend more time with Lisa

But eventually, your teacher came back to set you free and it was time to part ways

Both of you hesitated to leave though so you figured that you should not forgo this chance

“Maybe we could meet up some day and watch some movies together?”

You asked Lisa as you stepped out of the gym and she looked at you with a wide smile playing on her lips

“I would love that!”

She responded happily and you could feel your heart fluttering in your chest

Quickly, you exchanged phone numbers before saying goodbye

The following days, you didn’t see Lisa at school though to your dismay

She also never texted

And suddenly you started wondering whether she had just given you her number because she didn’t want to be rude

You were already pretty sure of your theory when Lisa finally sent you a message after four days

That’s Lego

Attached to her short message was a picture of a kitten and you laughed because of Lisa’s randomness

But you couldn’t say that her strategy hadn’t worked

The ice was broken again and the two of you texted every day

You also met up at school and hung out between your classes

It seemed like Lisa had just been a bit shy in the beginning

Because now that you knew each other better, you could barely stop her from talking (not that you would have wanted her to anyways)

You also followed through with your plan to have a movie night

Although you didn’t really watch a lot of movies

At first, you got distracted by Lisa’s cats

Then you stumbled upon her impressive collection of photos that she had taken over the years

And finally, she tried to make fresh popcorn, but forgot to put a lid on

So, when you started with the first movie, it was already past 10 pm

Nevertheless, you considered the night a success

Rarely anybody on this planet had ever managed to make you laugh as much as Lisa did

And you loved that she had allowed you to see a part of her world that not everyone could see

Therefore, your first movie night was followed by countless others

You grew closer every time, but you still didn’t really know what the two of you were

So you gathered all your courage and asked Lisa one night

“What...are we?”

You were a little nervous because you didn’t know whether you would like her answer

But Lisa just kept slurping the ramen that she was eating as if you had asked a totally mundane question

“I’m your girlfriend, right?”

She replied nonchalantly while glancing over the pot at you, causing you to chuckle

“Yes. Yes, you are.”

Everything about your relationship simply exudes strong ‘chaotic neutral’ energy

When the two of you are together no one knows what to expect

Maybe you use your time efficiently and build a darkroom for Lisa or have a study marathon

But maybe you also drink 20 shots of espresso each to watch all Harry Potter movies in one sitting

Everyone who knows you thinks that you are a safety hazard together

But for some reason you still work perfectly fine

You’re both chaotic, but in different ways

So you balance each other out

And both of you also have the same goals

You don’t take school too seriously

But you still have big plans for your future, so you always make sure to have a decent report card

And help each other out when you are struggling

Because you believe in each other

You know that Lisa will be the most famous dancer one day

And she would drop everything at any time to help you achieve your dreams as well

Together, you are an unstoppable force

And you know it

[klvbxlove]

lunch (yosuke x introverted! gn! reader)

a/n: damn, i’m really out here with ANOTHER yosuke fic, aren’t i? not that i hate it, i have some fun writing for him! but i still can’t get over that one anon calling me a “subconscious yosuke kin” (to whoever sent me that, thanks LMAO). now, a bit off topic, i really wanna try to write for the investigation team girls as well, but i’m having a bit difficulty. so please note that it’s not like i hate the girls (if anything, they’re cool! i especially love naoto. i may or may not have a crush on her). it might take awhile for me to put out another fanfic for one of them that i actually like. 

reader type: gender neutral

reader specification(s): reader is an introvert (**)

genre(s): fluff

trigger warning(s): none

summary: yosuke noticed that you haven’t made the effort to make friends, let alone talk to at least one person, since the day you transferred to his class. he decided he would change that and invite you to lunch.

word count: 1.6k words

(**) i know i could’ve written this in the a/n above, but i felt like i had to point it this right BEFORE the drabble starts. for some people, the reader might not sound like an introvert. i understand. however, being an introvert myself, i did base the reader a little bit off of me and how i act around new people talking to me. 

♡ ♡ ♡ (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*) ♡ ♡ ♡

key:

(l/n) = last name

♡ ♡ ♡ (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*) ♡ ♡ ♡

   Yosuke knew that sometimes it would be considered rude (and creepy) to stare at a person for an extended period. 

   But was that enough to stop him from staring at you, though? No.

   Whenever he got a chance during class, Yosuke would gaze his brown eyes upon you. Ninety-nine percent of the time, you would be sitting alone at your desk and not paying attention to anyone around you. And either you would be reading a book or going on your phone. You were always so focused, as well. Yosuke swore the whole class could be extremely high on drugs, and you would pay no mind to it whatsoever. 

   It had only been a few days since you had transferred to his class, but as far as he knew, you still had not made any friends. Although, it did look like you did not care about it. He had never seen you trying to talk to one person in class before, either. 

   Yosuke knew himself as a bit of an extravert who has no problem making friends most of the time. So if anything, he expected himself to have gone up to you and at least introduced himself. But no, instead, all he has been doing was staring at you. Yosuke was conflicted on whether to talk to you or leave you alone. For all he knew, you probably did not like socializing with anyone. 

   At the moment you looked up to make eye contact, Yosuke immediately turned around in his seat. Oh God, he could only hope he did not look awkward or creepy doing that. The last thing he wanted was for a new classmate to have a negative impression on him. 

   Okay, he thought to himself. Maybe I can talk to the new student during lunch later. Maybe I could even invite them to eat with me! Well, unless they don’t want to. I mean, I hope they accept my offer.

-

   Holy crap, I did it! Yosuke felt like he was going stiff for the billionth time. He was currently sitting next to you on the rooftop after you had (surprisingly) accepted his invitation. Although, there was a bit of awkwardness in the air during this time. Yosuke felt too awkward to start eating as he could not help but steal a few more glances at you. Meanwhile, you were eating your lunch in silence while you looked off in the distance. 

   You gotta say at least one thing to (L/N), you know.

   “So, um, what do you think about Yasogami High so far? Is it alright?” Well, it was a bit of an unusual question, but Yosuke figured that he would start with that. “Or, what about Inaba?” 

   You hummed, thinking of how to answer as you chewed your food. “It’s alright. I mean, I haven’t gotten the chance to explore Inaba yet after moving in, so I can’t say how I feel about it so far.”

   Yosuke nodded in understanding. As much as he enjoyed living in Inaba, it was not comparable to big cities in Japan like Tokyo and Osaka. 

   And now that he thought about it, today was also the first time he got to hear your voice again. The last time Yosuke heard you talk was when you had to introduce yourself in front of your new classmates. Since then, you remained quiet amongst the class. 

   But then again, it already sent strange beatings to his heart for no reason. 

   “Is there a reason why you moved here?”

   “Oh, one of my guardians just got a new job in Inaba, so we had to relocate so they could be closer,” you explained. “Well, actually, they also got another job offer in Kyoto, but they wanted to settle with the one here in Inaba. So I was just like, ‘Alright,’”

   For some reason, this intrigued Yosuke. “Interesting,” he commented as he took a bite of his food. “So I assume your family is the quiet type, right?” 

   “Not exactly,” you shrugged. “I mean, I got some extraverted family members. But for a few months, my family began thinking maybe moving somewhere quieter would be a nice change. Not that they hated the city or anything, you know?” 

   “No worries, I get it,” Yosuke smiled at you. “Inaba might not be a big and interesting place, but you learn to like it over time,” 

   But at this moment, Yosuke felt a weird feeling in him when you chuckled, “Yeah, hopefully, I will,” you noted.

   Yosuke had no idea why he suddenly felt a bold of confidence. Just a moment ago, he was hesitant to invite you up to the rooftop for lunch! But he figured he would go through with it. 

   “If you want, I could show you around Inaba during the weekend! I can even bring along my friends, who are all not at school at the moment.”

   You pondered for a bit before you smiled. “That would be nice. I’ll consider it.” Then you tilted your head “And your friends are absent? Like, all of them?” 

   Yosuke chuckled sheepishly. “Yeah, literally all of them. All I know is that Yukiko is on vacation with her family, Chie got sick yesterday, and Yu lives in Tokyo. Not sure about Rise, Kanji, and Naoto. So I’m pretty much alone for the day.”

   Wait, he just caught himself. “Oh. Well, I guess ‘alone’ would be the wrong word now that I’m hanging out with you. Haha, oops!” he scratched the back of his head sheepishly. 

   The awkwardness was rubbing off on Yosuke, and he hated it. Why can he not ever be awesome? He was almost glad when you spoke up. Although, he was scared of your answer.

    “You’re all good,” you smiled as you closed your bento box and put it aside. “I mean, yeah. It honestly sucks when almost all your friends are absent from school. For me, I just sit in class and at lunch alone like, ‘This sucks. Why did you guys have to leave me?!’  

   “It’s kinda weird. Being an introvert, you would think I love lonely and having little to no friends. But no, I still need my small group of friends with me to make it through the school day, or else it will get boring as hell.” 

   Yosuke smiled. “Same here! My friends are great, even though sometimes they can be a pain in the ass. I can feel lonely when I’m not with them for long periods. It was why I wanted to invite you to eat lunch with me. And I also wanted to get a chance to get to know you after you arrived here a few days ago. 

   “Although, I gotta be honest. I was a bit worried that you would decline me. I dunno. I assumed you were the type of person who hated it when someone tries to talk to you. I-Is that a bit weird?” 

   Why are you asking if it's weird? OF COURSE, IT IS!

   Stop making this more awkward for yourself! For all you know, you’re probably making (L/N) uncomfortable!!

   OR HOW ABOUT YOU STOP OVERREACTING?!

   “Hanamura, it’s fine. Not weird at all!” you let out a light laugh. “Listen, it’s not necessarily a thing where I loathe people talking to me. But only if if they come up to me first. Other than that, I would much rather be quiet. If I’m with my close friends, then I can be a bit more talkative. 

   “But I mean, it’s so funny,” you continued, smiling. “My guardians say I’m such an extravert around my close friends and cousins. I talk so much around them, yet with strangers or people I barely know, I’m dead silent. I guess if I become more comfortable around a person, I won’t be as shy.” 

   God damn it, Yosuke knew this might be weird to ask. But he just had to know. “So…I assume you’re slowly becoming comfortable around me? I mean, you are talking a lot!”

   “I guess I am!” you said.

   Well, that was one hell of a quick answer. Eh, not that he minded! 

   Moments passed, but before Yosuke knew it, the both of you continued to talk more. It was not as if he had been around you for the longest time, but he felt like he knew more about you. He felt proud of himself for getting you to open up to him.

   And at this point, Yosuke looked up. He noticed how many of the students who were also on the rooftop were beginning to head inside.

   “Well, class is starting soon. We should probably get going before we’re late,” Yosuke suggested. You nodded in agreement, and both of you stood up. 

   “Hey, Hanamura,” you spoke up. In turn, Yosuke turned to face you and saw a soft smile on your lips (and a blush on his cheeks! Wait, no—).

    “Thanks for inviting me to lunch today, I enjoyed it a lot,” you thanked him, “And I appreciated you talking to me. You were the first person at school to have done that so far. Even though I like being alone, I still liked hanging out with someone after days of barely knowing anyone here.”

   Yosuke knew this for sure. He was proud of himself for offering you the invitation. If he had not, high chances were that you would have continued being quiet, and he would have no clue about who you were. So smiling back at you, Yosuke said, “It’s no problem at all, (L/N)! I enjoyed it, too. Wait, give me just a sec.”

   You tilted your head in confusion when Yosuke pulled out his phone and gave it to you. In a matter of seconds, you realized what the brown-haired boy wanted, judging by the screen showing. But still, you wanted to hear him say it. 

   “Put your phone number in here. And I can text you after school!” 

   With a soft chuckle, you did as Yosuke did. You especially loved seeing his eyes glisten with excitement after handing his phone back.

   And the both of you eventually went back to your classroom, feeling bliss in the air.