#it doesn’t matter how much of a deep dive u do into them or feel for them

[squidsqwag]

fungus humongous but it’s their ACTUAL biggest fears: a ramble

first off , leo is the same. his fear of letting the team down ( and by association his brothers ) is very real and i love that they dived into that in this ep. i felt like they could’ve done the same amount of character development for the others too tho. or at least address it. like raph’s greatest fear is COCKROACHES ???? nah. there’s more angst to b had here. so here we go

going by order of who gets infected first, the first one on the chopping board is raph. i get that his fear of cockroaches is BIG, but i don’t think that’s his BIGGEST. that’s an irrational fear, not one that plagues his day-to-day life

taking some inspo from rise raph , i think he has a DEEP anxiety of losing his brothers. Separation anxiety ahoy ! so i think it would’ve been better if his hallucination was based more on that. keeping the cockroaches would work actually ! like he sees everyone as cockroaches and freaks out , but on top of that , he’s all alone. the people he loves r gone and he doesn’t know where they r bc all he sees r giant bugs. so it’s a wombo combo. having him become increasingly more angry towards these “ cockroaches “ is also an idea. he gets so worked up when he doesn’t know how his brothers r doing and if theyr ok, so he takes it out on the only thing in front of him. poor guy

next is donnie. of course it’s april. we all saw it coming. siiigh. i do think it’s interesting how he begins to cover his ears and shout “ i don’t wana hear any more ! “ so i think we could expand on that

his biggest fear isn’t APRIL hating him, it’s ppl that he ADMIRES hating him. having this fear expressed verbally is especially a nightmare for him. there’s no leeway when someone straight up says they hate u yknow ? so boom , he freaks out. he’d begin pleading to everyone , hoping that they’d forgive him for being himself. he doesn’t want the ppl he respects to look down on him. very much “ PLEASE like me , i’ll change my whole personality JUST so u can like me “ type beat. maybe even “ just lie to me and say that u like me so it doesn’t hurt “ type rhythm

it’s mikey time ( b prepared hes my fav ). this is the one i’m real disappointed in. like i get his whole thing is being scared of smth “ stupid “ but … cmon. im the president of the take mikey seriously club and i will NOT stand 4 this !!!!!

he’s constantly being looked down upon and treated like a little kid , never being taken seriously bc he’s “ the dumb one ,” being made fun of 24/7 , etc. i don’t think mikey is immune to this , i think he’s just good at hiding his true feelings. without a doubt , it bothers him , but he doesn’t ever bring it up bc he doesn’t think his feelings matter as much as anyone else’s. so having that b the focus would b neat instead of funni comic book monster he scare mikey haha teehee. how would this b achieved ? well , he’s used to everyone putting him down , so having a donnie hallucination situation ( i’m a lyrical genius ) wouldn’t work. i think the only way this could b represented is by honing in on mikey’s self esteem. have smth that rlly digs the nail in that he’s not that important in his eyes. honestly i don’t think he needs to hallucinate for this , bc him trying to help out his brothers and failing no matter what he does would b enough. maybe those thoughts just get worse as he fails to snap everyone out of the trance theyr in. i think taking that approach would b rlly cool !

in conclusion i have many thoughts and none of them r normal ( btw didnt add casey n april bc tbh i do not think abt them SRRY GUYS )

[1lvaites]

ppl will write villains and then be like mmmm i don’t like that villainous thing they did <3 and change it / erase it

[moonlightdreamzz]

Konoha boys and their ✨quirks✨ when making love to you — Naruto, Shikamaru, Rock Lee, and Neji. ♡

↳ warning! 18+. pure smut. hehehehehe

Naruto

A lot of times, he blacks out during sex. It’s like the second he sees your bare body screaming his name, begging for him to please you, he loses control and often dives straight into your cl~t with his tounge. It’s like being at your favorite restaurant when you haven’t eaten all day; when the food arrives, you damn near forget to pray. You start stuffing your face without even thinking.

Not much of a moaner until he’s about to cum, even though you always feel so warm, wet, and tight around him. When he’s really enjoying himself, you will hear some whimpers every now and then, but overall he grunts and takes deep breaths because the mission is always to please you. If you’re not screaming his name by the end of it, he didn’t do his job.

Will of course take it slow with you, but lives for ramming his d!ck inside of you. Everything about it is so aesthetically pleasing—the sound of his balls slapping your ass as he thrusts into you, the sound of your wetness coating his length, how loud you moan; all encouraging him to keep up the pace. He daydreams about these moments at the most inconvenient times. It’s 100% the only way he can relieve his stress.

Loves to be in control. He of course doesn’t mind when you want to please him, for example you wanting to ride him or in general be dominant—he lives for it, but he lives more for making sure you’re happy.

“Does it feel good, baby?” “With the way you’re scratching my back, it has to right?” “You don’t have to wait for me, baby. Let it out.”

Pls pls pls tell him that you love him when he makes love to you. And praise him. The more you praise him, the more confident he feels in what he’s doing, which in turns pushes him to make you c u m good and hard.

Never forgets to tell you how much he loves you even though he’s not his usual self when the two of you are intimate like this. “I love you so much, Y/N.” He breathes out as he strokes in and out of you with precision, his eyes shut tight because he’s trying not to explode inside of you before you get yours. “You’re literally everything to me, fuck.”

Shikamaru

No matter how many times the two of you have done this, it feels like the first time everytime for Shikamaru, and he isn’t capable of rushing into it like others. He always takes his time licking up and down your body—teasing you, and he likes it when you do the same. Even when he puts his length inside you, he can’t help but to stroke slow, wanting to feel every inch of your insides welcoming him back home.

Loves getting head from you, and you better make it nasty and theatrical. The sight of you working so hard just to make him feel good? Trust and believe he never takes it for granted. Yes, he’s that guy that grabs a fistful of your hair when the pleasure is getting intense and he feels himself getting close. He also asks a lot of questions during sexy time that make you LIVID! in a good way.

“Why are you so damn good at that baby?” He asks while you go up and down on his length. “You’re so fucking wet…is it because of me? Hm?” He asks as he strokes inside of you at a steady pace. “You think I can find your spot baby? Do you have faith in me? Do you?” He knows exactly what he’s doing.

As lazy as he can be, he’s actually very good at giving head himself. It took him a little to perfect it, but now? He doesn’t even need to come up for air. It’s giving head shaking left to right on your cl!t. It’s giving your legs squeezing his head and him forcing them open. He would finally lift his head up just to say “I’m good, right?” And laugh before making you cry again.

Truthfully, he’s good at everything. And even through his cocky nature is he ironically good at making you feel like his princess. He always makes you feel so safe. That’s why you’ve let him experiment on your body like this.

His favorite position is obviously you on top. One, because it’s “less of a drag” than any other position where he’s doing the most work, but more importantly, the sight of you bouncing up and down on his dick is better than any high he’s ever felt. Maybe his love language is acts of service? He doesn’t know. He always has his hands behind his head as if he’s on the finest vacation, and he never breaks eye contact with you, even when you start talking your shit.

Speaking of, he lives for your back and forth when you make love. He has a comeback for everything you say and it’s so sexy. “This pussy feels good doesn’t it?” “You know it’s fucking good, baby. So fucking good.” — “You want me to cum in you, don’t you sweetie? Do you deserve it though?” And then he pulls out right when you were almost there, knowing that you have no choice but to beg.

Will leave you knocked out in the end everytime. You ain’t never leaving babes you’re stuck. <3

Rock Lee

Rock Lee is a perfectionist, and there is nothing that he would ever allow himself to knowingly lack in. The same applies to making love to you. He knows that in the beginning he wasn’t that good at it, but he was never too embarrassed because he knew his beautiful lady had no problem teaching him what felt good and what didn’t. Now? He’s a damn pro.

Like Naruto, Rock Lee is all about pleasing you. He never allows you to do anything to him before he makes you cum at least once, and even when you try he always says the same thing. “Y/N, while I do appreciate your willingness to make me feel pleasured, you are my only focus right now. You come first, always.”

That’s not to say he doesn’t enjoy it when you take control of him. Even though he had received oral from you many times, he couldn’t help but moan and cry out your name every time you were in between his legs. “Y/N, that feels so amazing!” He whimpers, squeezing his legs around your head. He made sure to never be rough with you even when you were driving him crazy. He always cups your face in his palms, trying to maintain eye contact but feeling too overwhelmed as your tounge works wonders on his tip.

Very, very vocal in bed, and you love it so much. You never have to question whether you are doing something right—Rock Lee will let you know before you even have a chance to be insecure about it. You could cum just off his reactions to your touches alone if it was possible.

Does everything with concentration written on his face, but it’s still hot.

Will confess his love for you as he makes love to you every single time. He makes love to you like it’s the last time every time. You are his first, and although he didn’t know the concept of soul ties existed, he definitely has an unbreakable one with you. He doesn’t understand why he legitimately feels addicted to you and your body. All he wants to do is feel you clenching around him. He knows it’s naughty, but it’s the truth.

Truthfully, Rock Lee is a vanilla guy, but if you request that he get a little ✨spicy✨, he will always try his best. He doesn’t understand why you want him to spank you, but he’ll do it. You want him to tie you up? He’ll do it? What he will never agree to is degrading you in anyway. You are his precious flower and he will never treat you any less.

Didn’t even know what a g spot was when he hit it for the first time, but like I said, he’s a perfectionist. He memorized exactly where it was and doesn’t hesitate to hit it every time he makes love to you. You still don’t understand how he finds it with so much ease every time.

Neji

Neji may be more on the quiet side, but don’t get it confused — he’s gonna lay the pipe down EVERYTIME! Similar to Rock Lee, every time the two of you make love, he takes mental notes. “Oh, she likes it when I do that.” “Her Chakra shakes when I kiss her there.” “She pulls my hair tighter when I move my tounge in this direction.”

Kinkier than you think. He especially is into restraining you whether it be tying you up, or having his hands around your neck as he fucks you. It’s something about seeing you so helpless that can make him c u m so hard.

“You’re so wonderful, baby.” “You taste delicious.” “I’m so close, all due to you my love.” “Cum for me, my love. You deserve it. You deserve everything.” “You’re so precious…and beautiful.”

Yes, he activates the byakugan during sex sometimes. He wants to be able to hear, and see every single sense of pleasure running through your body. He may not be a big moaner, but trust and believe he is very satisfied and wouldn’t trade you for the world.

Specializes in putting your legs behind your head and fucking the shit out of you. Neji is very versatile when he makes love to you. And he can always sense what you need. If you need sweet love making, he can give that to you. If you need him to fuck all your problems away? He definitely can do that.

He really does enjoy making love to you. He has trouble communicating his romantic feelings towards you outside of the sheets, and it troubles him often. He has a million things he wants to say to you, but you just make him so nervous. During sexy time though, it’s like it’s the complete opposite. He gains a sense of confidence, as he knows he can please you better than anyone else can. It’s rarely ever about him truth be told, and even though you try so hard to give him nights where he is the only one being touched, he didn’t want that. He just loves the fact that he has a way to prove his love to you in his own little way.

author’s note! i hope you guys enjoyed this! 😭🕺🏽 let me know what other Naruto characters you want me to do this headcannon with, and other requests you have!

[silverdelirium]

So it's like this Fluffy fic where we lose our virginity to Draco

GODDESS | D.M

summary: soft!draco taking your virginity

warnings: corruption kink?, loss of v card, soft sex.

———

you didn’t know if it was the way he was running his hands down your hair all the way to your back or just the thought of being so close to him that had gotten you like this.

and it seemed like a scratch you couldn’t seem to reach no matter how much you squirmed in an attempt to get rid of it. draco, your boyfriend of 2 months now, took notice of it, growing concerned that you might be hurt.

“baby, you alright?” he piped in a soft yet concerned tone.

“i don’t know- my stomach is feeling weird.”

draco shot up at that, cursing himself internally for not doing anything sooner. you squealed at the sudden movement, since you were laying on his chest, he brought you up with him.

he turned you by your waist so you were straddling him. his eyes searching your face and body for any type of bigger pain. “what does it feel like, love? tell me. i’ll get someone to bring you something” he soothed, trying his best to keep you happy.

“i-” you cut yourself off with a sigh, looking down at his hands that were settled innocently on your thighs, your breath hitching. “it feels all fluttery and tingly right here.” you mumbled, rubbing your lower belly.

oh, thought draco. his dick perked up at this in his trousers. he gave a mere chuckle and said, “darling... i can relieve that. but i have a question to ask first.”

you beamed and nodded at him to continue.

“has somebody ever touched you here before?” he asked before cupping your clothed cunt. the material soaked. you gasped at this, the feeling unfamiliar, you weren’t even aware that you were... wet. you obviously knew what happened when someone gets aroused, but it had never crossed your mind fully. too caught up in schoolwork and the people around you, you never got some time to give yourself some time. draco knew this and made it his mission to help you relax in your own thoughts when you started dating.

“i- no.” you admitted shyly. face heating up by the second. “baby, look at me.” he demanded, tone still soft, he let go of your sex and brought his hands to your cheeks instead, making you look at him. “is this okay with you? will you let me help you feel good?”

you wanted this. of course you did, but... what if you didn’t meet his expectations? you never did this before and according to what you’ve heard it could’ve made you bleed, people say it hurt! you didn’t want that for draco or yourself for that matter.

“i just- what if i’m not exactly what you expect me to be draco? what if it doesn’t feel good?”

“are you asking if it won’t feel good for me or for you? because i assure you that the sight of you alone could bring me more pleasure than anything in the world” he replied, tone now a bit harsher, almost offended that you thought of yourself that way. yes, draco had done things before but they didn’t mean shit to him. he could go his entire life without any sexual relief if it meant you were pleased.

“both” you muttered, head dropping down in embarrassment.

“sweetheart, if you really want to do this, let’s do it. i’ll be with you every second of it and if you’re not ready then i could wait a lifetime for you.” said draco, once again grabbing your face and bringing it up to his eyes. heart swelling at the mere sight of you.

you looked into his eyes and saw nothing but sincerity in them. so you gave it no more thought and nodded with a small smile. making him smile back at you and delivering a sweet kiss on your forehead before traveling down to your lips.

and as you continuously made out, he flipped you both over and laid you down on the soft pillows of his bed. disconnecting his lips from yours to kiss down your heck, sucking gently enough to leave hues of a light purple on your neck.

he tugged at your sweatshirt and broke contact with your neck. “y/n, are you completely sure?” he asked, needing to hear you say that you were okay with this.

you nodded, desperate to get on with it. “i want words my love” he demanded, yet the soft tone not breaking and gave your waist a reassuring squeeze. “yes draco” you whispered in a breathy tone. draco gave you a small smile and kissed your forehead as he lifted your shirt up, chucking it behind him once it was completely off, he sat down on his knees and took off his shirt too, as to give you some type of calm.

he swallowed hard and tried not to immediately dive in between your breasts but instead leaned down and kissed you passionately while he took of your skirt. you finished kicking it off your feet and broke the kiss for a moment to take a breath. and at the same time you saw draco look down at his girl in only your underwear. you gave herself a pat in the back for choosing a nice set for today. his eyes were blacked out with lust, pupils dilated more than ever. you was shaped like a greek goddess in draco’s eyes and he was willing to fight anyone who thought otherwise.

“sweet merlin” he breathed out. his trousers straining now more than ever. but he knew how to control himself, for you.

he lifted his gaze up to his girlfriend’s gaze and saw how her expression was more flushed than usual around him. he leaned back down to pepper kisses on her chest, reaching behind her back which she slightly arched, giving him the consent to unclasp her bra. and he did with a few fumblings here and there.

draco pulled back a little to get a good view of her bare breasts and jesus-

she truly was a goddess.

“baby you are so damn gorgeous, i’m the luckiest man alive” he mumbled, massaging gently her tits and giving the nipples experimental kisses, which were rewarded by sweet whimpers and heavy breaths of y/n.

“can- can i take them off pretty girl?” he asked, hands at the waistband of her panties. “yes, take them off please”

he got them down slowly, throwing the soaked material at the sight. and draco was sure he could’ve easily just came right then and there, but this was about y/n, not him.

“my god, baby” he grunted as she spread her legs lightly, craving those praises. he could now fully see her naked body, pretty tits, gorgeous figure and dripping pussy, all for himself.

he caught her lips with his as his hands went from playing with her soft breasts to travel down to her heat. her breath hitched as he got closer, yet managed to continue to make out with him, his tongue lovingly exploring her mouth.

and as he finally reached the place she needed him the most, he pulled away from the kiss and leaned down to suck on her nipples, making her release a soft moan as she ran his hair in her hands. his hands found her clit easily and drew gentle figure eights on it, her legs spreading wider and a firm moan passed her lips, making him almost pop out of the coffins of his pants.

“shit dray- just like that” she moaned out as his pointer finger continued playing a bit faster with her clit and his middle went lower to tease at her entrance, his fingers now covered in her juices. he slowly inserted his middle finger inside her, grunting lowly at the tightness.

“ah! yes draco fuck!” she cried out when he started to move it inside and out repeatedly, increasing the speed by the second, his pointer finger now joining the middle one slowly as his thumb took over the stimulation on her clit. “i- dray my stomach-”

he detached his mouth from her tits and looked up at her. she looked absolutely flawless, mouth agape and pretty sounds escaping it, eyes slightly hazed and brows furrowed.

“cum sweetheart, let it go for me” he rasped out. and she came without hesitation, all over his fingers, drenching them on her arousal.

y/n was brought back to reality from the state of bliss to the feeling of her boyfriend peppering kisses on her cheek, trailing down to her collarbone. “how was that my love?” he asked, voice laced with adoration. “i-it was good”

“you did a great job baby”

“dray i- i want to go all the way please” she admitted, tone slightly laced with nervousness. “are you sure princess, you know i can wait.” he said, moving to press a kiss on her forehead while massaging her side with his other hand.

“i’m- i’m sure draco please” she pleaded, moving to grip the hem of his pants, doe eyes staring up at him.

“your wish is my command” he smirked, tossing his pants off.

he positioned himself on top of her again, his hands on either side of her face, her legs were tightly closed, the anxiousness of not being enough for him slowly coming back.

“can you spread this pretty legs for me baby?” he questioned, one of his hands coming down to massage her thighs. “i- draco.” she said, voice slightly shaky.

draco took notice of this and removed his arms from beside her, instead sitting up on his knees, grabbing hers and placing a kiss on them. “what’s wrong baby, do you want me to stop?” his tone full of concern.

“what do i do if it hurts?” she asked, fumbling with the bed sheets under her with a cute frown on her face, not meeting his eyes. “baby i’ll be gentle. i’ll never hurt you you know that.” he stated.

she took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her thoughts together. “you know what. yes, let’s do it, just be gentle please”.

“of course my love” he said before reaching for her hands and interlacing them together and once again bringing them to the side of her head.

y/n spread her legs wide enough for him to fit in, his painfully erect cock now in line with her opening, twitching slightly.

draco reached in between them and took his cock, pushing it inside her tight cunt slightly, she gasped at the stretch. he looked up and she gave a reassuring nod, draco pushed in more and watched as her back slightly arched. once he was further inside she released a small whimper, the first tear falling, yet she brought him down by his neck, smashing their lips together.

“move” she mumbled out between kisses, but he heard her clearly, moving in and out slowly, she gasped at this and bucked her hips up. the pleasure increasing every time he moved. subsiding the pain.

he then found a rythm and started to thrust into her gently, yet enough to pleasure them both immensely.

“dray-” she moaned out. “that’s right baby, say my name.” he grunted, eyes greadily watching her face contorting into pleasure. she moaned louder when he reached for her clit, amplifying the pleasure, her legs slightly shaking. “fuck yes, just like that!” she whimpered, back arching when she felt that bubbling sensation close again.

he gave a moan of his when her walls clenched around him. with the sight of before imprinted in his mind and the feeling of now, he wasn’t gonna hold much longer. “shit- are you close my pretty girl? gonna cum on my cock?” he asked seductively. she gave a weak mhm, not trusting her mouth to give a coherent answer. “then cum baby, wanna see you fall apart for me” he rasped out.

she came for the second time that night with a loud cry of his name. him following behind as he quickly pulled out. still stimulating her clit to ride out her high. he quickly came on her stomach at the mere sight of y/n cumming.

once they both climbed down from their high, he landed beside her, breathing heavily. but quickly recollecting himself and reaching for y/n, carrying her to the bathroom as he peppered kisses on her head.

he sat her down on the toilet so he could fill up the bath.

he sat her down on the tub, him behind her.

“you did amazing baby” he murmured in her ear as she collected the bubbles. her face heated up as she mumbled a thanks.

“once we clean you up we can go eat whatever you want and then cuddle for the whole day, hm?”

“yeah” she chuckled, face still heated up as he massaged her scalp with some shampoo, pressing kisses in her shoulder every now and then.

“my goddess” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his cheek against her head.

———

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[a-kaash-me-outside]

Hiya! I am definitely on the writing block train with ya, I’m sending all the positive writer vibes your way tori!

You’re writing is always something I look forward to reading- I just- *chef’s kiss*

In the event of overcoming this writing slump I would love to req. some nsfw bokuto x reader with the lovely smut prompt of either #55 or #99?

Thank you and I truly believe that you can ko this writing block’s ass😉.

but I’m hungry

// nsfw (minors dni!!), f!reader, oral f!receiving, no seriously some good good pussy eating thanks, domestic smut mmm

ty for the posi vibes, but more so, thank u for req bokuto because i have been on a bokuto brainrot for like,,, mmm ~~ weeks thanks ,, srsly one of the best things I’ve written I think so this is a part of my 3k event ! ~ go request smthn or send me hcs

“You know, there wasn’t a single thing to eat in the kitchen until you walked in.” His head is still in the refrigerator when you enter the kitchen. Either he is disgustingly aware of your morning routine or your footsteps aren't as light as you thought.

"It is 7 in the morning, don't you think it's a little early for stupid pickup lines?" Your eyes are half-lidded, still contemplating going back to sleep instead of starting your day as a blurry Bokuto takes 3 strides to meet you where you stand.

He wastes no time wrapping his arms tightly around you. "Who said it was a stupid pickup line? Maybe I'm just hungry for something in particular this morning."

"Don't you have practice in like an hour?" you ask, rubbing your eyes with one hand so you can actually focus on your boyfriend.

"But I'm hungry," he whines, pressing his forehead to yours, pleading eyes waiting for any bit of approval that you'll give him. You lock your arms together around his neck as you nod. What were you supposed to do? Turn him down?

The pleas in his eyes are replaced with excitement and a more unapologetic hunger as he lifts you, quickly making his way to the counter. You can't help your laugh, "What? No bedroom?"

His fingers are already hooked into the waistband of your shorts and underwear when he looks up at you, joking confusion all over his face that almost immediately turns into a grin. "I'm eating in the kitchen where I'm supposed to."

He pulls them off in one motion, nudging your legs apart with his own before lowering himself and hooking his arms under your knees, locking his fingers together on your lower back.

It's always a gamble when Bo gets in between your legs. Some days he takes his time, teases you for hours using only the tip of his tongue until you're so sensitive that his breath could make you come if he asked you to. Some days he savors it, letting you come whenever you feel it approaching, but staying buried between your legs for as long as he can hold his breath so he doesn't have to be away from you.

Some days he wants to make you come as many times as you can handle just to prove to himself and you how much power he has. Some days he goes as hard as he can, using whatever he can to hear those unbelievable noises you make, making a huge mess of you and wherever you are.

Today... Today your boyfriend is hungry, starving actually from the looks of it as he stares between your legs, mouth watering as he just takes in how fucking pretty you are.

He looks up at you, not for permission, but so that you can see the gratitude that's taking over every single one of his features. His eyes are locked on yours, focus resting on the golden color as he inches closer to you, mouth open and tongue out.

Your jaw relaxes, mouth opening slightly as your tongue rests against your bottom lip, waiting with bated breath as you feel yourself growing wetter.

He licks a long strip between your lips, dipping into your hole before running the flat of his tongue against your clit. It's the most control that he exhibits all morning. Tasting you on his tongue, feeling your juices coat his tongue, all of his restraint is gone.

He buries himself as deep between your legs as is physically possible, his nose pressed up against your clit as he slurps whatever wetness he can, using his bottom lip to make sure that he doesn't miss any of it.

"mmm taste so fucking good," he mumbles against your pussy, the vibrations making your thighs clench. "fuck, baby, baby, you taste so fucking good." You're already coming, lacing your fingers into his hair as he moans into you, tongue diving so deep into your cunt, scooping out all of the cum that he can.

But he wants more. He needs more. It's not enough. He pulls you closer to him and you're convinced that he can't breathe. Your thighs are engulfing him and your pussy is suffocating him and he has never looked happier. You've lost his eye contact from how submerged he is between your legs. You know that they're probably shut in concentration and appreciation, but your fingers are digging into his shoulders and you're whimpering and you just want to see how much he's enjoying it. "Bo, mm, please look at me."

He pulls back only enough for you to watch his eyelid flutter open and see the drunk-like look in his eyes, but it doesn't last for long because you're coming on his tongue again and he needs every drop.

Time doesn't exist in this moment. You've lost track of how many times you've came and how many breathes he's taken. Your legs are tired from tensing so hard and you're sure that Bo's back is raw at this point and you have absolutely no thoughts in your head other than how in love with him you are and he shows zero signs of stopping.

Despite his best efforts, between his spit and how many times he's made you come, you're dripping onto the counter beneath you so much so that you are so grateful for the hold that Bo has on you because otherwise you would be sliding all over the counter. Your fingers are gripped onto the edge of the counter now, no longer clawing down Bo's back.

You're coming down from what you're quite positive is your 15th orgasm when you hear a vibration against the counter. You're out of breath and your mind is foggy, but you can see Bo's phone buzzing, the screen lighting up with Atsumu's face and a time that is most definitely later than you thought.

"Baby," you murmur, but it's like he doesn't even hear you. "Bokuto," you say, louder his time, reaching to grab his phone, sitting upright as you unclench your thighs from around him.

At the absence of you completely surrounding him, he looks up at you. The entire lower half of his face is sheened with you and no matter how many times he swallows, it's not enough. It's catching up to him now being buried between your legs, taking deep breaths to compose himself.

"'s Atsumu," you say, offering his phone to him. "You are very late for practice."

By the time Bokuto finally composes himself, the phone stops ringing, but he doesn't make any moves to get up. He licks his lips, savoring the lingering taste of you and you swear to God if his phone didn't start ringing as soon as it stopped, he would've kept going.

You can barely hear Atsumu from the other side of the line, angrily asking where he's at and if he slept passed his alarm. Your eyes are trained on Bo as he looks up at you and then between your legs once again. "Yeah, I'm actually not feeling good this morning. I thought I texted Meian, but the text must not have sent. I'll be there Thursday though."

You can't focus on whatever response Atsumu gives, but it sounds apologetic enough, all you can focus on is the way that the corner's of Bo's lips upturn into a smile as he nods with fake concern. "Yeah, right, I will. Thanks, 'Tsumu."

And then he hangs up the phone.

"Sorry, where were we?" he asks, wasting no time before closing the gap and picking up right where he left off.

♡ leave a tip ! ♡ ♡ reblogs & likes appreciated ♡

[studiojeon]

bitterness in goodbye | jjk

this is part of my troubled outsiders series. sadly, you can't read this as a stand alone (meaning: feel free to check the previous parts ♡)

| summary | - You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.

warnings: none (?) i mean chaeryeong insults jungkook which is an atrocity in itself but-

contents: we diving into the angst my friends. jungkook is an innocent, kind hearted soul, i promise. oc's got the feels (out oct. 1) for jk. idol!jungkook × student!reader.

author's note: I EDITTED THIS FROM MY PHONE DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW FUCKING ANNOYING THAT IS? also, thank u for the amount of support i've been receiving lately, i appreciate everyone lots. feel free to ask away or suggest anything btw, i would love to write for any prompts you guys come up with. 💞💗💖💘💓💕

words: 1.57k

playlist: honey by halsey

Four weeks later, the receptionist of your apartment complex hands you over a cardboard box with the hoodie Jungkook and you had talked about that day on the Han River. Jungkook kept pestering you to please please please send him your address for confidential purposes, which you knew had to do with his determination to literally provide anything that catches your eye right away. You assumed it was a sensitive topic for the boy whether people had purposefully taken advantage of his money before, so you didn’t dare to say anything when the man asked you for your size literally two hours after he dropped you off, scared to either reject his solidare intentions or piss him off for bringing unwanted memories back. In  your defense, your personality type keeps oscillating between INFP and INFJ so it’s only natural that you take extra care to make sure those around you have as much peace of mind as possible in your presence. 

As pretty and comfortable the piece of soft clothing is, an important factor is missing, something that you can’t recreate buying two of the same size and color, and that is Jungkook's escence and how good it looks on him in comparison to anyone else in the world. Meaning, you didn’t like it as much as you thought initially would. And it absolutely did not have to do with the fact that your short stature made you look like a toddler who stole their dad’s jacket.

Still, in order to show Jungkook how much you appreciate his gift, you bring it to work the next day, and the rest of the days after that, with the excuse that with winter rolling around you needed something to keep you warm in the office. Jungkook doesn’t miss the opportunity to confirm your assumptions regarding your appearance whenever he barges into your office randomly throughout the week, arguing that ”you look so adorable” and doesn’t stop for two weeks more, until he gets used to seeing you wearing something you shared with him. Which doesn’t help ease your growing romantic feelings for him whatsoever.

Because yeah, you liked Jeon Jungkook, just like every human being with eyes and sexual desires, except, you didn’t just like him in a superficial way, and that’s where the problem with him resides. Though you are sure everyone has fallen in love with the endearing boy at some point - especially the excluded and invalidated women of society - you can’t help but place some blame on you for allowing yourself to be swooned so goddamn easily. Your mom had said to you at some point to be wary of the way some men would talk to you when you grew up, their intention usually being getting inside your pants, which has happened to you more times than you'd like to admit. And with the argument that she knew you better than anyone, she claimed you would comply right the second someone talked sweet to you; you despised the fact that was the case with Jungkook (and Jungkook only), although he had never shown any sexual innuendos. What your feelings could do to your relationship with Jungkook and your rather chill lifestyle scared you to death, shiver me timbers and all that shit, having romantic feelings for someone else is embarrassing, especially when your chance with them has been scratched out the second you laid eyes on them.

Jungkook sits on your couch, legs spread on your thighs as you two pretend to watch some series on netflix. “I don’t buy for a second the act you’re putting on right now.” he speaks randomly after staring at your deep-in-thought state for a few minutes and laughs when you snap at him for not letting you overthink in peace. “What’s going on?”

Truth is, you don’t fucking know. A few hours before he arrived at your place (you had to pick him up at the dorm and sneak the both of you through the subterranean parking lot, because god forbid someone saw Jungkook arriving at some chick’s dorm on a saturday afternoon) you swore you would be able to conceal whatever emotional turmoil you had going inside of you without compromising your regular behaviour around the man, but when push comes to shove, it’s impossible to keep yourself from wondering how far you could go before that special someone found out what was going on inside of your head.

Jungkook’s phone rings in his pocket with some annoying tone he had downloaded illegally from youtube the same day the company had handed over the device as a gift for him (you still were a little bitter over how they neglected the rest of the staff but you also knew it was kind of impossible for the human kind to just gift a-thousand-dollar-phones to almost five hundred people out of solidarity). “Hyung?” he picks up, still wary of your unusual behaviour, concerned eyes looking at you. “No, uh- i’m with Yugyeom right now.” and your heart shatters into a million pieces.

You have been suspecting for a while that Jungkook is being hesitant to introduce you to his social circle. Although, you’ve tried your best not to take it personal, it is getting harder to resist the urge to ask him what the fuck is up with that. The fact that Jungkook had to lie about the person he was hanging out with broke your ego; he could’ve just said he was with a friend, right? You suddenly feel like you’re fifteen again, when the guy you liked would love you in the dark but pretend he didn’t know you in the light. 

Holding your tears back, you gently push him off and make your way towards the bathroom in the most nonchalant way you could. This is your fault for falling for the nice popular guy in the first place, you remind the reflection staring back at you. Still, as bad as it hurt, there was no way you were going to cry over a stupid boy, let alone when he was literally sat on the next room. He can go fuck himself if he thinks he can just toss this behind as if nothing ever happened.

You text Chaeryeong instead.

“chaery bom bom: i swear to god i gonna throw hands the next time i see the bitch.

chaery bom bom: like who the hell does he think he is? fucking squidward looking asshole.

chaery bom bom: he ain’t even that cute bub, you’ll get over him. i know jinyoung wouldn’t treat you like this”

You sigh. Chaeryeong has been enamored with the idea of you and his former company colleague from GOT7 since the day she met the guy (which was somewhere around ten years ago), and although he was all that, you didn’t like his quiet and cold aura, it intimidated the fuck out of you (Jungkook was the entire opposite of that).

You spray on some perfume just to have an excuse as to why you randomly ran to the bathroom when Jungkook’s inquiring eyes stare as you sit back on the couch, which is exactly what he does. “You done with your call?” you ask, bitter.

Jungkook frowns, a bit taken aback by the sudden question but still unaware of the way his words had made you feel, not even sensing the hostile change in your mood. “Yes, it was one of our managers. He was wondering if I could come back to reshoot some...-thing.”

Okay, now you kind of understand as to why he lied in the first place and to say you feel guilty is an understatement. “I supposed he backed down once you mentioned you were hanging out with Yugyeom.” playfulness makes its appearance on your tone and Jungkook rolls his eyes at you, tongue poking on the inside of his slightly red cheeks.

“Sorry for that” he moves closer and cuddles your arm, like a sad guilty puppy. “It’s just- I don’t want them asking questions''.

You understand. He is a very reserved and private person after all. It took you a bit to crack him open yourself. Plus, you kind of share that trait with him, you’d hate it too if people were constantly on your nerves for the people you decide to hang out with. 

And that’s all it takes to forgive him. Not very cash money of you.

“You better not pull that shit again, though” you shift in his hold and he looks up at you. One look into your eyes and he knows what you mean. “I’ll kick you out.”

After nodding, Jungkook resumes his concentration on the series you picked out for him. Due to your short attention span, you are very picky about what you invest your time in, especifically with audiovisual pieces of media, so Jungkook trusts you whenever you recommend something on very rare occasions. As a matter of fact, Jungkook was busy attacking your kitchen counters for snacks (which you didn’t have) when you mentioned Money Heist. “Munch on some grapes instead” you suggested to soothe his disappointment.

You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.

[havin-a-wee]

could u ever do a smutty one where h and y/n had a fling in the best or are just each others occasional hook ups but when h has a date y/n gets like really upset and he finds out so he makes it up to her and confesses his feelings saying stuff like „y're my best girl, y'know that petal?“🥺👉🏻👈🏻 love ur writing beyond words, have an amazing day :))))

Date Night

warnings: unprotected sex

word count: 1.6k

to whoever sent in this ask im so so so sorry it literally took me like two months to answer it i feel so bad but i like how it turned out so i hope this makes up for it!

You shouldn’t be crying. You really shouldn’t. Yet tears are spilling down your face as you break down in choppy sobs, your chest heaving and your cheeks hot.

You have no right to be jealous, and you know that. You and Harry are only friends with benefits, and nothing else. He is allowed to be on a date right now, and it’s not his fault that you’ve managed to fall in love with him throughout the course of your relationship. You met through a mutual friend, began hanging out and then later started hooking up. And while he sees you as his best friend who he just happens to fuck sometimes, you see him as so much more. And you wish that maybe it could be different between you. That maybe he does reciprocate your feelings and if you just told him how you feel he’d tell you he feels the same way.

But as far as you know, there is no chance of that happening. Especially considering the fact that he’s currently at a restaurant with some hot blonde girl he met last week.

Your thoughts are put to a halt when your phone rings, and you pick it up to see none other than Harry himself calling. And as much as you want to decline the call, Harry would never decline yours no matter what, so with a hefty sigh you bring the phone to your ear.

“Hi”

“Hey petal, the date was a bust, all she wanted t’talk about was m’money.” Harry laughs weakly over the phone, and you smile at the news that it didn’t work out. You shouldn’t be happy about it, and it does make you feel guilty because Harry deserves happiness. You just wish he could find that happiness with you.

Lost in your own train of thought, you forget that you’re supposed to be suppressing your tears. Another salty droplet rolls down your cheek and your sniffle.

Suddenly, Harry begins talking again, and that’s when you realize your mistake. “Petal? Y’okay? Sounds like y’crying.” His voice immediately switches from joking to sympathetic and worried, and you can imagine how he looks right now, creased forehead and wide eyes.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” You wipe the tear off your cheek with the sleeve of your hoodie, clearing your throat to try and hide the sound of your throat that's sore from crying.

“No y’not y/n, I know what y’crying sounds like. M’already going in the direction of y’house so m’coming over and staying till’ y’tell me what's wrong.”

The tone of his voice tells you there’s no changing his mind, so you sigh and murmur an “okay” before hanging up the phone.

It took about five minutes for Harry to knock on the door. During that time, you went into your bathroom and attempted to hide the red, puffy skin that had overtaken your cheeks. It didn’t really work, and you were still trying to hide it when you heard him knock. So with a disappointed sigh, you slump over to the door and open it.

Harry steps in quickly, placing his coat on a hanger and then turning back to you.

“What’s wrong pet, hmm?” He places his ringed hand on your cheek, thumb running over the skin that's been reddened from your tears.

And despite the years you’ve spent hiding your feelings, despite the hours you’ve had to listen to Harry retell stories about his hookups, despite the yearning you’ve felt for your best friend since you met him, this was your breaking point. Tear after tear after tear. They flow uncontrollably down your face and all you can manage to do is look up at Harry. He pulls you into him, placing one hand behind your head and one around your waist.

And you just cry into Harry’s shoulder.

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there, but Harry eventually brings you couch, and as soon as he sits you both down you curl up into his warm chest.

“Y’gonna tell me what’s wrong? Y’don’t ‘ave to, just hate seeing yeh cry.”

Finally, you pick up your head from where it’s tucked into his torso.

It might be the daze you’re in from the emotions swirling through your head. It might be the glass of wine you downed earlier to help drown out the feeling of jealousy. It might be all the pent up frustration from years of pining for someone you could never have. Or it might have been none of those things. Whatever it was, there was something inside of you that snapped. Like a damn collapsing and letting the water topple over and flood everything. The barrier you spent so long building broke in two, allowing all of those emotions to spill out.

“I love you Harry.” His eyes snapped open, and his mouth moved to speak, but you cut him off. “And not just as a friend. I’ve always loved you, and I know that if you don’t feel the same way, things will be awkward, but I don’t care anymore. Seeing you excited to go out with another girl hurt, because all I’ve wanted for so long was for that girl to be me.”

He stares at you. There was a second where you debated getting up and running out of the house, afraid of what his response would be. But just before you could put that plan into action, his lips collided with yours.

Your mouth meld perfectly, soft lips biting and nipping at each other. His tongue slips past your parted lips and twirls around your own. You’re breathless by the time he disconnects, the feeling that you had been longing for sent your mind spinning.

“Y’don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear that,” he pants, green irises staring deeply into yours. Without another word, you lean in and kiss him again, this time with more vigor than before. Much to your dismay, he separates the two of you again, however he keeps his arms tangled around your body and holds you close.

“Y're my best girl, y'know that petal? None of those silly girls could ever replace you.”

As your lips touch for the third time, it’s clear that both of you have been waiting for this moment for a long time. You savor the feeling, taking short moments to pause and soak in the feeling of his lips on yours.

Slowly, his hand creeps down the small of your back, but you can tell he’s hesitant to move it down further. But you want this, so you remove the hand that’s stroking his hair and place it on his, moving his hand down to your ass manually. He pulls his lips away, looking into your eyes for a sign of confirmation. You realize what he’s looking for, so you nod vigorously in response.

Quickly, he lifts himself off the couch, placing you on your back and positioning himself on top of you.

“H- please, I want you to make love to me,” you whine. His expression fills with hunger and he reaches to unbutton his jeans, shimmying them off quickly and tossing them to the ground. You can see the bulge pressed up against his boxers, and you reach out to palm him through the thin material.

“Fuck petal, y’gonna be the death o’me, y’know that?”

Harry dives into kiss you, using one of his hands to pull down your soft pajama shorts along with your panties. “Harry-”

“I gotchu petal, I gotchu, don’t worry.”

You assist him in pulling off his boxers, his large erection springing out. He’s huge, but you can’t say you didn’t expect it. The precome on his tip is calling for you to lick it, but you just want him to be inside of you, so you make a mental note to do that sometime soon. He grips the base of his cock, lining it up with your entrance. “M’gonna go slow alright?”

You hum your approval, and he responds by pushing the head inside your tight, soaking hole. Even with just an inch inside, you know it’s going to be a stretch, so you take a deep breath and hold onto his shoulders.

Inch by inch, he pushes himself inside of you. Harry stills for a minute, sensing the discomfort in your demeanor. Luckily, it doesn’t take long for the pain to subside and the pleasure to kick in, and soon enough you are moaning out for him to move.

He takes your instructions swiftly, pulling almost all the way out of you until quickly thrusting himself fully back in. “Fuck!”

Your cries are muffled when he leans down to kiss you, his hips continuing to rock as he pushes his length into you.

The air is hot, filled with moans and the smell of sex. You haven’t ever felt this good in your life, especially when he thrusts in extra deep and hits that special spot inside of you. “Harry- god,”

“Sweet girl, am I makin’ yeh feel good?”

“Mhm..”

“Tell me petal, who makes y’feel like this?”

“Harry! Only Harry,”

“Good girl.”

He slams into you, speeding up his thrusts and colliding his hips with yours. Both of you are groaning messes, caught up in the moment and unable to form any coherent sentences. You feel his cock twitch inside of you, and you know you’re close too by the way your stomach and pussy are clenching. He can feel it too, hitting deeper inside of you to bring you to your climax.

“God Y/N, I love you so fuckin much.”

That was all it took for your orgasm to come crashing down, coursing through your body with strength and fervor. The feeling of you squeezing as you came sent Harry over the edge, his milky cum shooting into your pussy and covering the soft walls.

You don’t know if this means you’re dating or not, or where his head is at. All you know is that you love him, and he loves you. And that’s enough for you.

[deluluass]

Attention

Since requests are open again, can i request a yan!bokuto developing a crush with one of the other teams' managers during their training camp? 👀             

for: @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa​. hi bestie 😔 this is late (again), but i hope u like it 😍

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; underage drinking; (slight) sub!Bokuto👀; mild footplay

Three minutes. 

Three minutes and forty-five seconds, to be exact, before the truth came for you like a ball careening towards your blindside: 

  You’re not supposed to be here .

  Granted, the thought had already slinked its way into your brain ever since you’d overheard the coach crying on his phone, his wife on the other side of the line, that if he hadn't groveled and appealed to his college friend’s sense of honor, as he’d sniffled, they wouldn’t have even considered the team ( your team) to be worthy of receiving an invitation to this training camp. 

  Ignoring the worries that came after that was supposed to be easy. It shouldn’t have come at all . It’s irrational and it doesn’t help anyone. What was the point in fretting? Your boys are more than deserving— more than capable in fact —of going toe to toe with some of Tokyo’s best. 

  It’s also a given that those people don’t know anything about your team. You do live in a town half a day’s ride away from the capital. And how could you expect city folk to recognize a team that hails from a place where the cows outnumber the people three to one?

  They’re bound to not know.

  But the needless unease stayed and soon took a life of its own, the weight of it becoming heavier and heavier over the course of the weeks that you waited for that dreaded day, like a hungry beast that you diligently fed with your little what-if’s. 

  What if that place eats us alive?

  What if they make fun of us? 

  What if, despite trying our hardest, all we do is lose? 

  What if these people take a single look at us and think that we’re not good enough?

  What if they’re right?

  The deep chasm on the scoreboard tells you exactly that, plain and without a hint of artifice.

  Shinzen High has already scored five points. 

  Your team is still stuck at zero.

  And the clock continues to tick.

  “Chance ball!” 

  Your captain's voice was feeble against the noise of the ball being passed from one hand to another. 

  Odd, that. 

  Itsuki's not the type to pull his punches. Especially in the middle of a game; always one to use his entire chest when launching back at his enemies with a guttural roar.

  You looked at the players standing on your side of the court— really looked at them, in a way that you should have instead of wasting your time entertaining those doubts— and found nary a trace of your teammates among those too-stiff, too-quiet boys that bore an uncanny resemblance to a bunch of rabbits caught in the headlights.  

  A chuckle erupted from your chest, surprising even you.

  "Something funny?" the coach asked, his glance turning wary when you convulsed in a fit of shrill giggles. 

  "Yeah," you told him, shaking your head. “There is, Coach.”

  From the bored expressions on your opponents’ faces to Shigeru’s (failed) attempt to set for Koyama, all the way to an audience that wasn’t even looking, who were, frankly, much more interested in what's on their phones than what’s in front of them. 

  How can you not find this funny?

  You were worried about... this ? 

  You sighed, your head the clearest that it’s ever been in a long while, and stood from your seat on the bench. 

  The coach called out your name in a harsh whisper. You ignored him, not even bothering to explain yourself. After all, you’ve already spent too much of your energy on the wrong things. 

  And so, in the most polite way that you could, you shouted:

  “Hey! What the fuck is this!”

  Everyone might've gawked; the coach may have pulled you back to the bench with a strength that you didn’t know he possessed. There’s something much more important than being respectable, though. 

  “None of us ever cared about what these assholes think!” you pressed on, staring down at Takami, whose dad never fails to remind him that he’ll waste away his life fooling around with that useless club . “So, why,” you ask with a clear voice, “Why are we starting now?!”

  Of course, just like any of your spur of the moment ideas, that hadn’t ended the way you hoped it would.

  They still lost (they also did in the following game). All of the coaches (including yours and excluding the one from Nekoma High; that one just patted your back) had expressed their disapproval over what you did. You couldn’t regret it, however, no matter how humiliating their rebukes made you feel.

  Because you don’t think you’ve seen any of your teammates look the least bit happy since you set foot into this place. But, now— even with the fact that all they've achieved so far is keep the floors clean with their diving laps— now, they do.

  With that, it seems to you then that this place isn’t so bad, after all.

A day.

  A day and ten hours, approximately, had already passed when Bokuto felt your presence acutely like the stinging red imprint a hurtled ball leaves on his skin. And just like the circumstances that lead to that bloodied, angry marking, you made your existence known with just as much force as a player spiking for the kill. 

  Some of them guffawed, out of disbelief and sheer delight both, because in all the years that they’ve trained together in preparation for the interhigh, they don’t think anyone has ever called them a bunch of “assholes” before.

  They didn’t think much about that new team that arrived too late. So, yeah, Bokuto wanted to laugh, too, just like others. ‘ What a way to make an impression, huh?’ he wanted to say.

  That wasn’t what he said, though. 

  Bokuto wasn’t even able to say anything. 

  He was too busy staring at your mouth, the resoluteness in your lips as if you knew exactly what to say; the way you looked at your teammates, like there was nobody else more astounding, more unbeatable at this game than the boys before you (though, surely, even you can see that they’re far from being any of those things). 

  And yet, there you were, your eyes incandescent; they might as well have been on fire, blazing with so much awe and unshakable faith and it was so clear for everyone to witness and— and Bokuto did not know what to do with it. 

  It was so embarrassing, truth be told. Bokuto may not be the most secretive guy around, but when the others eventually pointed out that he looked scared at the thought of facing them ( you ), he just couldn’t help but sulk.

  “We’re not half the cheerleader she is, Bokuto-san,” Yukie teased him, patting his shoulder as she did, “but rest easy, we’ll try our best to boost morale.”

  He just groaned, immediately locking his legs at a stand still when the others hooted, ‘Look at him! He looks like he’s about to piss himself bouncing his legs like that . ’ Really, what was he supposed to say?

  Because, when he finally faced your team with that net in between and as he felt the ball against his palms when he aimed for a clean hit towards the floor, it’s not even fear that rushes through him. 

  Not even close.

  Beyond the defeated faces, of the exhaustion slathered all over your team’s barks after each point he snatched under their noses, Bokuto saw you looking at him. 

  Just a flicker; a passing peek before that determined gaze settled back on the others. But it was there all the same: the pause in your breath as the ball detonated against your teammate’s frail arms, clutching the edge of the bench with your fingers as if it took everything in you to keep yourself from running towards the court.

  To rush towards him. 

  To— to what ? Exactly? To scream at his face the same way you did earlier? That he's going too rough and hurting your precious friends?

  There’s a part of him that wishes to stop. A strange, alien feeling that he supposes comes from the discomfort at the sight of you so troubled and wound up.

  Oh, but you're just starting to understand! 

  That if there's someone who's truly astounding, unbeatable, and staggeringly brilliant at this game, it's him . And Bokuto wanted to drive that point home like he's never wanted anything else in his entire life. 

  His body stopped feeling like his own by the second set. 

  His legs were too light to be his, like there were coil springs underneath his feet that carried him higher and higher he swore he could brush the roof with his fingertips. 

  There’s a thrumming in his flesh that propelled Bokuto to move faster, to push that ache over the edge until there’s nothing left but the breathless exhilaration of seeing his opponents kiss the ground.

  The air is getting thinner, like he’s scaling towards a mountain top as he sprints towards the other side of the court, long strides eating up the floor, uncaring for the sweat pouring down his cheeks.

  Bokuto was willing to let this thing go on forever and ever and ever , for as long as he feels the searing heat of your eyes on him.

  Until he turned his head in your direction. 

  You were smiling at something a spectator said. 

  He couldn’t hear it, but whatever it was it had pushed you to make a teasing remark to your team.

  A banter ensued.

  The referee blew his whistle as a warning.

  You giggled.

  Why?

  “The ball, Bokuto!”

  Why aren’t you looking? 

  His hands were two weights keeping him down, made heavier by that sinking sensation in his chest.

  When did you stop looking? 

  It was too much, too unbearable that he could cry. The indifferent way you'd removed him from your line of sight was a sucker punch that's not as painful as the shame it leaves him with.

  Were you even looking at all? 

  And he wonders with a shuddering exhale as he finally gathered the strength to raise an arm, Bokuto wonders what would happen if, just this once, he shot the ball towards y— 

  “Bokuto-san.”

  Akaashi was calling out to him.

  “Bokuto-san, we already won."

  The ball within his grasp dropped. 

  Bokuto watched it bounce on the floor until it rolled over to somebody else's waiting palm.

  He took a deep breath— in and then out, repeated it until everything came into sharp focus —and raised his head to squint at the scoreboard.

  22-3

  So they did.

  The other side of the court was already empty, your team assembled to one corner; you were out of sight.

  Everyone started to gather around him.

  They took Bokuto along with their cheers and reprimands and accusations, like a strong current that carried him from the bench to the shower room, laughing as they handed him a towel, having noticed that he’d been too out of it to do anything else but stay half-naked in front of the sink. 

  “Are you alright, Bokuto-san?” he heard Akaashi ask over the teeming excitement surrounding them. 

  Blinking, Bokuto paused from wiping his bare torso as he replied, “Me?”

  Their setter only nodded.

  “Yeah!” Bokuto exclaimed, a tad louder than he ought to. “Yeah, dude! Of course! Never been better!”

  “You were a man possessed," Masaki, still fresh from the shower, suddenly drawled from behind him. 

  “You were... quiet,” Ubugawa’s captain continued, reaching for the toothpaste laid next to Akaashi. “It was unlike you.”

  Bokuto was about to say something, somewhere along the lines of “Really? I didn’t notice” when Daiki made his decision to wring the wet shirt in his hand, brandish it like a belt, and strike Bokuto’s back with it, the impact cutting across the room. 

  “You little..!” Bokuto turned with a snarl, poised and ready to throw the boy over his shoulder.

  “Let it go, let it go,” Daiki chortled, grabbing Bokuto by his damp hair. “That’s for not giving us a warning, alright? Crazy bastard.”

  Daiki shook his head as he walked away. “Never seen the idiot go hard like that,” he mumbled.

  “That’s our ace for ‘ya!” Haruki echoed from his cubicle, to which the others responded with wolfish howls and sharp whistles, completely transforming the shower room into a tiled rainforest. 

  And Bokuto wanted to join along, because although the game still felt like an abrupt, fever dream, he’s well aware that he did something that he’s going to be proud of in the days to come. But somehow— for some unknown, beguiling reason, all he could do was stand there and make himself vulnerable to Kuroo’s antics.

  The Nekoma captain looked at Bokuto through the mirror, clicking his tongue before lamenting about “ those poor country boys ” and their “ ill luck ”.

  “Go easy on us small fries sometimes,” he added. “You were pretty scary back there.”

  Kuroo gave his nape a quick pat before he went for the lockers, leaving Bokuto to stare at his reflection, features obscured by the fog.

  Scary , he said.

  Scary, huh.

  A man possessed.

  Bokuto wonders about its meaning, what coach had meant earlier when he’d jokingly called him a beast. He contemplated what about him had led them to think that way, tried his best to be perceptible of any changes.

  His eyes were the same, although the pupils in the middle were large pools of tar, widened and leaving only the slightest space for the honeyed rim. 

  His hair was the same platinum color and still streaked with the same black lines, although untamed and in a disarray this time, with the strands sticking to his forehead. 

  Although flushed, his face was the same, over all.

  Everything seems to be right where they’re supposed to be.

  Although he’s huffing and puffing, creating more mist to cloud the mirror with. And when he tried to reach for the glass, he realized that his fingers were still trembling. His blood still surging as if his body had never left the court. 

  Then, it struck him.

  Bokuto holds his breath in anticipation, the truth of it right in front of him.

  There’s no monster here. 

  No man possessed either.

  Only a guy who’s helplessly, foolishly in love.

Announcing to an entire room of strangers that one is of the opinion that they're assholes, as it happened, was an effective way of making new friends.

  Of course, there was that awkward day-long explanation that you had to do for Yuki and Kaori and the others. An affair that wasn’t too different from a one-woman press conference that involved you expressing your regrets, revealing that, sometimes, when backed against a wall, you can be an impulsive clown with a glaring lack of filter (like: "No, no..! I didn't think you guys were actually- you know- ass- it just spilled-" and "Ah, geez, this is embarrassing.The heat was getting to me. I didn't mean it, really!" )

  But the girls had been kind enough to let bygones be bygones, assuring you that all they ever felt was a joyous combination of relief and wonder. Ubugawa's manager, Eri, (who'd shook your hand while holding back tears) even told you that seeing another girl in a veritable sausage fest that is the training camp was a miracle in itself. 

  "It was fun, actually," Mako once said when the two of you were assigned to carrot chopping duty. "You gave us something to talk about for a while."

  And even when the novelty of being a bumpkin with the mouth of a sailor soon faded, the bond that quickly bloomed between you and the other managers hadn't.

  It was unexpected, although not unwelcome.

  You couldn't help but laugh at yourself. How silly you'd been: coming into the city expecting a den of wolves and hunters armed to the teeth.

  In the span of two days thoughts of survival were replaced by the confidence that your boys would pull through; by a sense of ease that you didn't need to win all the time and that this place is not a battlefield, but a fertile ground for growth and learning. You didn't need to constantly be on your guard— knuckles up and gearing for a fight, you realized.

  Well — 

  For the most part, at least.

  Serving spoon in one hand and potholder in another, you reluctantly paused from preparing your team’s meal to whisper under your breath. "He's doing it again," you hissed.

  Kaori only gave you a preoccupied “hm?” as she plucked the ladle to fill the plain white ceramic bowls before her. “Who is?” she continued. 

  “Your captain,” you replied, taking care not to let him know that you're on the verge of melting under his not so subtle scrutiny.

  The lovely Fukurodani manager didn’t even miss a beat; without lifting her eyes away from the food, she raised her voice, just loud enough, to address the creature (spying) standing idly by the door. 

  “Say, Bo-kun,” Kaori called out and you watched, amazed, as he coughed out the water that he’s been making a great show of drinking. “Your mama must not have taught you that it's bad to ogle.”

  Bokuto Kotaro, Fukurodani’s ace and captain— a volleyball player that sits atop everybody else in this training camp, whose name is almost always followed by “one of the very best in the country”— quailed as his manager, the Great Kaori Suzumeda, blessed him with a smile veering on beatific. 

  “Oh-who-me?” he prattled, hands pointing at everything and nothing as he choked on his own words. “Didn’t see you there! What’s up! I was just passing by!”

  “In the middle of practice?” Kaori snickered. “ You ?” 

  The boy released a laughter that resonated in the empty cafeteria. 

  She sighed, dropping the ladle, and told him to “Just go, Bokuto.” He obediently complied, thank the gods, but not without an overzealous goodbye to Kaori, as if he’d never see her again when lunch was just half an hour away.

  He didn’t say anything to you. He didn’t need to, anyway. The lingering gaze that he directed towards you was enough.

  “Thank you,” you exhaled once you made sure you’re no longer within his earshot, plopping your head against Kaori’s soft arm.

  Her chuckle fluttered towards you, causing you to smile as she asked, “Is it that bad?”

  You could only nod, both as an affirmation and an effort to shake those golden, hawk-eyes out of your system.

  “I’ll talk to him,” she said after a few seconds of comfortable silence, the firmness in her voice making you stand upright and level with her.

  Common decency tells you that you should say no, to stop her and tell her that she didn’t really have to; that you shouldn’t make a big deal out of this. But, you’d never really been one to listen to what that part of your brain dictates.

  Taking her hand in yours, you gave it a light squeeze, incapable of doing anything else to convey your gratitude with a sob lodged in your throat.

  “He’s not a bad guy, our Bokuto,” Kaori soothed. “And for what it’s worth, he’s never been like this with someone he likes.”

  A grin lit up her face as you snorted, remembering the time someone had finally caught on to Bokuto’s newfound fixation. The uproar that it’d cause in the field when everyone was out enjoying slices of ripe watermelon. The unnecessary and, frankly, embarrassing anger that it’d pulled out of your boys after it's been revealed to the whole world. The infamous blush on Bokuto Kotaro’s face as he desperately tried to deny the accusation. 

  And the cold, spent feeling it left you.

  “Normally, he’d be all over them,” she continued, mimicking his owl-like way of moving, bobbing her head to and fro as she circled around you.

  “Kaori!” you squealed, pushing her playfully by the shoulder. 

  “Bokuto would be like—” Kaori pumped her fists in the air, “ Hey, hey, hey! Talk to me! Talk to me! Compliment me! Love me! ”

  You simply hummed, folding your arms against your chest as you commended her spot-on performance. 

  She didn’t need to tell you all that, though. The guy had a personality so big it’s a miracle how this city contains him. And you’d known from the very beginning that Bokuto Kotaro doesn’t seem like the type to do the whole “pining from a distance” thing. 

  But, they even said that he’s half in love with you already, with the way he follows you with his eyes and flails and stutters and acts like he’s never had a mouth and a pair of hands before whenever he’s around you. And that, somehow, he plays even better than he already does when you’re in the audience ( especially when it’s against your team). 

  You don’t bother to correct them and say that no, this might not be a silly little crush.

  Because you don’t think that anyone but you would understand that there can never be any love nor infatuation in a stare that traps you with its expectations. Even if you did tell them that, you’re the only one who knows what Bokuto’s gaze really makes you feel like: A plaything that he’s been gifted to and was told would sing and dance for him just so he’d stop crying. 

  And you know what temperamental children do with toys that don’t work the way they want it to, don’t you?

  “Trust me.”

  Kaori’s gentle voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

  “He’s just an idiot,” she told you. “You’ve seen him— especially last week!” Kaori’s eyes bulged out, leaning closer to you, both of you gasping at the memory.

  Tears sprung out of your eyes as you laughed harder, your stomach aching when Kaori began to recount the events that had turned the entire training camp on its head, forever planting itself in its history as the worst ordeal it’s ever faced:

  A piece of the wall in the girls’ sleeping room broke off, revealing a large, Lovecraftian nest of cockroaches. 

  “If you’d only seen his face!” Kaori cackled, struggling to finish as she clutched onto you for support. “He burs- bursted into the room only for him to- to-”

  “Pass out when a roach flew to his nose! I know !” you screeched and slapped the table with her, ignoring that you’re almost knocking over the food and chortling until you were close to having a heart attack.

  “Oh- oh , I can’t breathe,” she groaned. Your laughter tapered off into heaving as you fixed her mussed bangs. 

  You smiled. 

  “See,” Kaori finally said, pinching your chin a little. “Bokuto’s a meathead. Just a meathead. Guy can’t get a clue. But he’ll come around once he realizes that he’s being weird.”

  “Yeah,” you murmured, giving her a weak nod. "I'm sure he will."

  You didn't know if you meant to say that with a hint of irony; if that scared farm girl is rearing her ugly head again and pointing a pitchfork at a monster of her own making.

  A monster that, you're convinced, would do something more than just look once you're within its reach.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

  Bokuto even had it all figured out in his head. C’mon, he's got the looks, doesn't he? And he's not lacking in charm. In fact, he's oozing with it! That's why Bokuto had expected that he had this one in the bag. His game plan was foolproof: 

  Talk to the girl. Get the girl.

  After that, you’d be together for the rest of your lives and your fiery, unrelenting support for that lousy team of yours would never go in vain ever again. Because it’d all be directed to him. All that “ Good job! ” and “ You were amazing back there! ” and “ Don’t be scared! I’ll be right here rooting for you! ” would finally be given to someone who actually deserves it.

  All you had to do was see what he had to offer and baby— oh baby , how you'd love him. No force on Earth could have prevented Bokuto from making you his.

  So it's all the more sobering now that Bokuto’s witnessed that the said force turned out to be him of all people. And what he could actually give you was a few stumbling lines and compliments that didn't even make any sense (“ Y-your face smells nice ” for example)— all (preferably) uttered a few feet away from you. 

  The others teased him for looking like a jilted witch casting a spell on an indifferent lover. “What are you? Speaking in tongues or something? Is the Great Horned Owl that desperate?” they poked at him. He didn’t mind them before, but now he’s not so sure.

  " Tone it down, okay? " Kaori had reminded him again earlier this afternoon. That stern talking-to from their manager was an ice-cold bucket of water that doused what’s left of his optimism. 

  But, tone what down? What , exactly, is left to tone down?

  He couldn’t even talk to you without losing his ability to string coherent words together, let alone get close to you. Eye contact, too, he’d deliberately restrained himself from doing (if only you knew how much this is hurting him!) and not just because he’d been deemed a complete and utter creep. 

  Bokuto couldn’t look you in the eye ever since that incident.

  “ She’s helping the other girls carry their stuff to the other room, I saw them just now ,” Yamamoto had discreetly passed on as soon as he woke up from a terrible concussion. “And if you want to redeem yourself, my friend, after that humiliating performance, you’d better go out there and lend a hand. ”

  Because Yamamoto, being the love expert that he proclaimed he was, told him, “ Look, I feel for you. But it’s simple. You just gotta show her what you’re made of. That you’re a man she can depend upon, ” Bokuto then persevered to follow through.

  Only for him to be met by an empty room with bits of crumbled plaster scattered across the floor. And your bag in the furthest corner just...lying there.

  Maybe you’d forgotten about it. Maybe you were too busy catering to your friends' needs that you'd forgotten about yourself.

  Either way, Bokuto promises that it wasn’t on purpose. 

  Bokuto had good intentions, really! He just wanted to take the bag with him so he could give it to you, is all! It wasn’t his fault that some of your stuff was peeking through the half-opened zipper. It’d already been in that state when he saw it. 

  And- and it’s not his fault that he adores you too much. 

  Bokuto reminds himself as much as he propped his forehead against the bathroom wall, water from the shower pouring against the taut muscles on his back as he wrapped your underwear around his cock. 

  The baby pink fabric, every inch of it soiled now over the days that he's used it, rubbed  against his balls when he began fondling them, his other hand caressing his nipples, rubbing and pinching at the peaks until they stiffened between his calloused fingers.

  His cock grew hard and heavy in his hand as he started pumping into his fist, fucking your soaked panties until precum dripped from slit.

  And with nobody else in the shower room, Bokuto allowed himself to grunt and curse and call out your name, digging his nails into his skin until it stung and made him want to cry.

  "Make me cum, princess," he whined, shutting his eyes to watch you on your knees, fingers between your legs as you looked up at him, never taking your eyes off of him even as you took his cock down your throat.

  "Please, please ," Bokuto groaned,"Please let me cum."

  Here, you don't turn away nor brush him off without even saying anything. Here, you call him your baby and you chuckle as you ask him, " Good boys deserve to cum, don't they? "

  He bit his lip, pressing his cheek against the freezing tile. "Mmhmm, I-I've been-" Bokuto moaned, feeling himself creep closer and closer, the pleasure at the pit of his stomach building, "I've been so fucking good for you."

  The contrast of your pretty little underwear around the thick veins of his cock made his head spin. And as he squeezed his shaft tighter, Bokuto knew that he did, in fact, deserve so much more.

  Because he's endured so much just for you. Now, it's time to get what he's due. 

Scouring high and low for a pair of cotton panties that have seen better days wasn’t how you wished you’d celebrate the last night with your newfound friends. 

  Yuki had advised that you abandon the ratty, old thing (though you did say it wasn't; ratty, that is) and leave it here as a parting gift— a mark of your impact on their lives, if you will— but you’d quickly laughed her off and set out to find it. She was drunk, anyway.

  Although, so were you. If not, then just a tiny, itsy, bitsy, bit tipsy.

  You hiccuped, giggling as the sound echoed through the poorly-lit hallway. The world was spinning beneath you and you prayed that it wasn’t worse for poor Yuki, having chugged half of that horrid concoction. 

  Kaori almost threw her out of the window after that stunt. Mako scoffed at her for being an arrogant ass. The girls who weren’t drinking sat back and chose to enjoy the unfolding chaos (while also being kind enough to be on the lookout).

  And you...well...right now you’re on the verge of breaking down as you make your way to the shower room. 

  Mostly because you’re just realizing that you might never see them again if your team doesn’t survive the Inter High. Partly because you’ve been dumb enough to not notice that you’ve been missing an underwear for a couple of days now. 

  God, it's so ridiculous. You're ridiculous. You're glad that you went on your own and rejected their offer to accompany you. Imagine if they saw you like this:

  Oscillating between sobs and strained laughter while swaying on your feeble legs; the very picture of a lunatic out in the streets in the middle of the night.

  You only hoped that you're not scaring the living daylights out of that guy who probably just went out of the boys' room to pee. Maybe you have already spooked him, with how still he's gotten.

  Cupping your palms around your mouth, you saw fit to save his sanity and cried, "Heyyyy! I'm not- hic - a ghost!" 

  "Oh!" you gasped, raising a pointing finger to shush yourself, "Oh, yeah, sorry, shhh-" 

  He didn't run the other way screaming and crying, which was good, instead he approached you hurriedly, making you squint to get a better look at him.

  "Koyama?" you whispered, struggling to recognize the tall boy with a sturdy build, his navy blue hoodie casting a shadow on his face. It didn't help that your eyes were doing something funny, as if they were busted camera lenses that went uncontrollably in and out of focus.

  "Good evening, my dear! I daresay you're looking quite bur- burl- blurry tonight."

  You cackled, immediately following your greeting with a slurred apology.

  "Why- Why are you still- um- up?" he asked. And before you could volley him with a question pointing to his weirdly different voice, he brought his head down to sniff at you. "Wait- have you b- are you drunk ?"

  "What! No! Of course not!" You pouted and airily slapped his cheek, drawing a lopsided grin out of you when his skin glowed pink, bright enough to light up the entire place. It was so remarkably adorable that it made you squeal and pinch both cheeks, rocking his face as you did.

  "Look at our big boy!" A sheepish, almost disbelieving chuckle shook his large chest as you resumed your baby talk, your grabby hands bringing his face towards you.  "Who would've thought that our stwong, wowdy ace could bwush wike so? And what's with this siwwy hoodie, huh? Where did you get this, bunnycakes? I've never seen you wear this before!"

  You wondered, also, why and how his jet black hair turned pallidly gray over the few hours you hadn't seen him. You even brushed the mildly damp locks out of his forehead, unsure if they're even real as you tried to right your smudged vision.

  And you wanted to blame it all on the alcohol.

  It's the reason for that dramatic change in his tone and manner of speaking and hair color and...those eyes .

  The very same pair that followed you everywhere, sometimes even in your sleep.

  "You love me, after all," he breathed, the statement a thin sheet of glass that could blow into smithereens at just the wrong response.

  That had been enough to drain the inebriation out of your body. Like being branded, you pulled away from Bokuto with a harsh curse.

  "I- I have to go," you said. "Sorry, I thought you were Ko- my teammate."

  But Bokuto had already laid hold of your arm with no intent of letting go.

  "Stay!" Bokuto called out, repeating it with please and listen despite your outcries, shouting for Kaori and Yuki and Mako and Shigeru and Takami and Coach and Koyoma and anyone, help me, anyone.

  Until he tugged you to his chest, wrapping himself around you and turning his entire body into a concrete prison as he fervently told you, "I love you. I love you so much ever since the first time I saw you and I know, I know you feel the same so if it's the distance that's keeping you from me I can come to you I'll follo-"

  "Nothing's keeping me from jackshit!" you gritted out. "I don't love you! I don't even care about you!"

  He didn't say anything to that. 

  Bokuto had gone quiet. It wasn't only until he nuzzled your neck, pressing his face snugly down the crook, that you decided to kick him with all your strength, breaking yourself free as your heart thundered out of your chest.

  You didn't look back.

  You dashed through the long, endless hallway with the air in your lungs dangerously running low and keeping you from screaming.

  But the remnants of the alcohol were lead that weighed your feet to the ground, betraying you further by morphing your surroundings into a hazy, dizzying scape. You teetered and wobbled, desperate to reach that staircase that will lead you out of this floor, but each step that you took was not fast enough, not nimble enough, as if you’re wading through knee-deep water. 

  And before you know it the monster has caught up and is ready to pounce from right behind you.

  “Get your hands off me!” you wailed as Bokuto heaved you by the waist and carried you over his shoulder. 

  The sudden upending of your world was so nauseating, you didn’t even notice that he’d already taken you to an almost pitch black classroom, its heavy curtains drawn together and the empty chairs and tables pushed to the side. 

  His large, sprawling hand was gripping your ass, your stomach lurching when you felt him caress it. Yet that didn’t deter you from hitting whichever part of him that your knuckles and feet could touch, ignoring the trail of your own spit that dripped on your face as you howled and thrashed and fought to keep yourself together because no one was hearing you.

  What’s left for you, now? Your captor was so strong, much stronger than you, that even when he tripped on his toes, Bokuto was able to catch himself and drop you on the nearest table in just a single breath. 

  “Stop fighting me..!” he panted, holding you down as he knelt before you. “I’m not gonna hurt you! I- ow! Don’t-”

  Bokuto’s grip on your wrists was unbudgeable. So, you didn’t miss the chance to bite him when he covered your mouth with his palm. Teeth chattering, you broke the tough flesh, sunk them sharply until the taste of salt and iron flooded your tongue.

  You expected that it would push him away. Give you the leverage to escape.

  That turned out to be a mistake.

  His honey-gold eyes glinted as he stared deep into yours. Every hair on your body stood on end when the corners of his lips slowly lifted, eyes still fixed on you as he released a bubbly, childlike laughter.

  “I've always wanted to do this to you," he sighed giddily. 

  The helplessness chipped at your insides bit by torturous bit when all you could do was rock the table with your flailing, while Bokuto had already crouched lower— low enough to pull the hem of your thin shorts with his teeth.   

  He watched you weep with a sickening display of dejection, like he's some dog that's been shoved around by his master.

  "Please don't cry," Bokuto whined, peppering soft kisses all over the insides of your thighs then licking off the beads of sweat that covered the goosebumps. 

  You’re not giving up. 

  You couldn’t give up.

  You pushed and gnawed and tore skin that you’re sure every inch of his palm is littered with fresh bruises, but this only seemed to encourage Bokuto, drawing out his drugged out moans as he spat on your clothed cunt, drool leaking down to your folds before he lapped at the wet spot. The moistened fabric scratched and rubbed against your clit to the point of quivering and writhing in his clutch. 

  “Oh, I know , baby,” Bokuto murmured, using the tip of his tongue to flick at the swollen nub. “I’ll make you feel real good soon.”

  Shaking your head, the unwiped tears gathering around your eyelids dropped to his long, calloused fingers. And you wanted to screech, to tell him to go to hell as he swirled his tongue all over your embarrassingly slick hole.

  No, you wanted more than that. 

  You wanted to drive your bare hands into his chest.

  But that’s not what you did, is it?

  When Bokuto finally removed his hand from your mouth, what slipped past your lips wasn’t the sound of a woman ready to kill. Instead, you sounded like a little girl begging to be carried home. And that hadn’t been the part that scared you, really.

  It was the fact that no matter how much you tried to scream, nothing was coming out.

  “L-let me go,” you wheezed, your voice cracking. “Or- or else.”

  “Or else?” Bokuto replied, eliciting a gasp from you as he sniffed your throbbing, wet cunt. “Look at me, princess.”

  “ Look at me ,” he repeated pleadingly, frustration giving his tone a rough edge, as he brought the hand that once suppressed your attempts to call for help to skim past your thigh and stroke the sole of your feet. “Just this once. See me.”

  You kept your eyes closed, even as he kissed your toes and brought it down to his crotch, forcing you to dig your heel into the bulge jutting out. He rocked his hips, gyrating slowly, his cock hardening under your feet, as he whimpered into your leg.

  “Please, please fuck me, please ,” Bokuto mewled. “I’ll do any- anything for you.”

  Profanities rushed out of you, but no one could hear them. Not even you. Perhaps that's why he didn’t flinch when he lugged you down to straddle on his lap.

  “Use me, baby,” he whispered, grinning wide as he snaked his other hand to your back and dug his nails around your nape, laying on his back and taking you with him as he did, your tits crushed to his chest. 

  With your arms dying in his grip, Bokuto easily stripped his pants along with his boxers. Violent trembles wracked your body as he dragged your pussy along his thick shaft, back and forth, your damp panties riding up every time he thrusted upwards.

  His hot breath against your ear sent shivers down your spine as he giggled lowly, “Wanna cum inside you so fucking bad . Will you let me, hm? Please let me.”

  Of course you didn’t want to. It’s not like you’d stop struggling, either. It’s just that Bokuto would never listen to you. Even when he whimpered and babbled, “You don’t want to- fuck, your pussy’s all nice and wet - oh, you don’t want to? That's okay, that’s okay, baby,” Bokuto still slipped his cock inside your underwear.

  It slid past your lips up to your clit. And you’d never hated yourself more in your entire life when all you could do was stay limp and cry as the fat tip finally nudged your twitching hole.

  “No, no, don’t worry, sweetheart,” he whispered, scattering kisses on your neck, “It’s just the head- just the head.”

  As Bokuto groaned and rutted against you, all you wished for, in that moment, was for dawn to peek through the curtains and signal the end of this torment. But, still it went on with Bokuto stretching you open.

  And as he split you in half, you detachedly realized that you were right.

  This place did eat you alive.

[schweidens]

Mammon NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Mammon’s a softie - he definitely wants his partner to feel comfortable after sex and he’ll cater to their needs

Honestly, he hasn’t had much experience with a long term partner, so he isn’t super familiar with the concept of aftercare. But worry not, he’s quick to learn. He’ll prioritise cleaning you off and offer to run you a hot bath and remove the sheets, and tend to any wounds you might’ve sustained if the two of you were extra freaky that night

Once all that is done, he’ll dive right back in bed with you, peppering you with kisses and cuddling you till the next morning

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Mammon loves his abs - he’s worked hard for it and he knows that they look good. He’ll get particularly blushy if you comment on how muscular and toned they are

You hands are his favourite body part of yours. Not only does he love them when they’re wrapped around his hard cock or when they’re pulling his hair and marking his back, he also just cherishes how your hands touch him so delicately; how your fingers lightly brushes upon his at any given chance, and how your hands just fit in his so perfectly

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He has a really big load and his cum is extremely thick and creamy. It’s slightly bitter but you still swallow every timr

Mammon loves cumming all over your face. As the avatar of pride, it’s no surprise that he receives pleasure in marking you. Seeing you with his load all over your face allows Mammon to relish in the face that you’re his and only his

He’s also a big fan of cumming inside. Mammon loves how you trust him enough to let him fill you up, and just the thought of you filled up to the brim with his cum gets him going for another round

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

The two of you attempted to fuck in Lucifer’s room once while he was off meeting Diavolo. Unfortunately, Lucifer returned sooner than expected, and almost caught you in the middle of the act. Mammon got a beating and a lecture, and you were given a disappointed sigh

He’s also too scared to admit that he’s very much into sensory deprivation. Mammon loves the thought of being tied up, blindfolded, and a gag in his mouth, with a plug up his ass and a vibe on his cock

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s a demon, and having lived for thousands of years before, he knows what’s he’s doing

Mammon has had his fair share of sexual encounters with witches and succubi and his body count is definitely high

That being said, he knows how things work and he knows how to please. You cum every single time you have sex with him

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mammon’s a big fan of cowgirl, he finds it so unbelievably hot to see you bouncing on his cock on top of him, with full view of your face and your tits. He also loves it when you’re in control, and this position grants you that

He also loves missionary because again, he loves seeing your face when you have sex. He could cum just from looking at your lewd expressions. Missionary also allows him to me a tad more romantic and intimate, so when you’re having a more vanilla session, Mammon can hold your hand while the two of you are chest to chest as he thrusts into you

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s occasionally goofy. Cracks a joke here and there so the two of you can laugh while you hold a lighthearted conversation as you fuck

However, if the two of you are having jealous, rough sex or passionate, intimate sex, Mammon prefers to remain more serious in the moment and focus on pleasuring the two of you

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He does take care of his pubes but it isn’t like he’s completely shaved clean down there. Trims it occasionally so there isn’t a bush, and is overall pretty well groomed. He doesn’t really have much of an opinion on it, so if you want him to grow it out or shave it all off, he’ll do it

The carpet most definitely matches the drapes. Yup, white pubic hair

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

We all know that Mammon’s a touchstarved baby — years and years of taunts and insults from his brother really does damage, so it would only make sense that he would crave loving, intimate sex

Lots of sensual kissing, murmurs of i-love-yous, handholding, and praises thrown here and there. Passionate fucking and slow thrusts till the two of your both cum together

He’s a romantic boy deep down. If you were to ever surprise him with candles and roses and lingerie he’d break down in tears

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Mammon jerked off a lot more before the two of you got together. He feels extremely guilty for doing so. But he can’t help thinking about your pretty face when he’s stroking his cock. Almost always ends up pulling out his DDD to look at a picture of you while he’s masturbating

He doesn’t really masturbate that much anymore after getting together, with an exception of mutual masturbation, which he thoroughly enjoys. He finds it so hot to jerk off while watching you touch yourself right in front of him

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise. Be sure to tell him how well he’s fucking you, how good his cock feels, how much you love him.

Mammon also loves overstimulation — jerk him off while pegging him and he’ll become a sobbing mess. He’s also a fan of over stimulating you, and will aim to make you cum multiple times during foreplay

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The two of you have had sex in virtually every spot in his room. Across the pool table, in the car, on his bed, you name it. Mammon’s a bit more traditional, he loves doing it on the bed the most. No risks of banging his head on the car window or whacking your shin on the side of the pool table

Outside of his room, he’s also done it in numerous locations in the House of Lamentation. His personal favourite is the planetarium, since the two of you almost got caught by Satan while doing it in the library

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

A simple touch on certain sensitive spots can easily turn Mammon into a flustered, blushing mess. Run your hand up his thighs or give his butt a firm grab and he’s already semi hard

Dirty talk can easily get him going. Whisper a few lewd sentences into his ear and he’s instantly turned on. He’s also easily motivated by sexts and nudes, and will reciprocate the favour by sending back a nude of his own

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Mammon is not into being degraded. He’s already experienced enough with his brothers’ constant insults so insulting him bed would be an instant turn off.

He’s also not a fan of anything that involves pain. He doesn’t want to see you hurting because of him, no matter if you ask him to

Mammon’s also not into the idea of threesomes. He doesn’t want to share his partner, plain and simple.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a huge fan of both. Loves to feel his cock in your mouth, with your tongue swirling around his tip, and always comes extra quickly when receiving a blowjob

Mammon loves how you taste and indulges himself in eating you out. He won’t hesitate to ask you to ride his face, and his tongue is skilful enough to make you cum a couple times during foreplay

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It really depends on the situation. If he’s feeling particularly emotional or romantic that day, he prefers to do it slow and sensual with maximum intimacy between the two of you

On special occasions — such as your first time, your anniversary, your birthday — Mammon will usually opt to keep the pace slow and sensual

If he’s jealous or angry, he will not hesitate to be rough. Expect him to be thrusting into you at a rapid speed with occasional spanks here and there. He’ll also go rough if you ask him to

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Mammon’s not the biggest fan of quickies since he wants to be able to enjoy being intimate with you without a time constraint

However, if he’s particularly frustrated or horny, he won’t hesitate to pull you in a spare closet for a couple of minutes to have a quickie

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Mammon’s always up to experiment with different kinks, as long as they’re not outrageously weird. He’ll try almost anything once, especially if it’s something you’re into

He’s not one for risks, usually, with an exception of public sex. The idea of being caught excites him, so he’s more than willing to fuck you in a semi public area

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He’s a demon, so it’s obvious that his stamina exceeds those of humans. Mammon can go for a good five rounds, given that there are small breaks in between to let him get down from his high first

Since his stamina is considerably better than yours, he’ll usually let you decide how many rounds you’ll be having

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Mammon himself doesn’t own any toys. Poor boy is too embarrassed to walk into a sex shop himself, and doesn’t dare ordering them via Akuzon in case Levi accidentally finds them.

However, he’s more than open to experiment with sex toys with you. Mammon loves using a vibrator on you, and also loves when you use it on him. He’s also open to you using a strap-on on him. Once he gets over the initial embarrassment, he’ll be more than willing for you to peg him

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If you’re having jealous sex or angry sex, Mammon does not hold back on the teasing. He’ll fuck you senseless till you’re approaching your climax, and then stop completely. Mammon will edge you multiple times until you’re on your knees begging for his cock

However, he’s usually weak to you and he’ll easily give in to you pleas for him to fuck you

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Mammon’s shy and ultimately always tries to hide his moans but it never turns out that way. He’ll try to bury his face in your neck to mask out his lewd sounds to no avail

Over time, he becomes extremely vocal during sex, unafraid of voicing out how good it feels to have his cock ramming through your sopping heat

He mostly lets out low, breathy moans and groans, but when you’re dimming him, he’ll release the prettiest, high-pitches whines you’ll ever hear

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Mammon once decided to use ‘Lucifer’ as his safeword. It obviously worked and instantly turned the both of you off, but it was difficult to even look at Lucifer in the eye in the passing week

He’s a huge fan of lingerie and will not hesitate to use his precious Goldie in order to buy you more expensive pieces. They turn him on to no end, especially black, lacy lingerie

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Mammon’s quite big, at 8.5 inches erect. His cock is nice and girthy, particularly thick around the middle. There’s a bulgy vein down the side that rubs your walls oh so perfectly every time he thrusts into you. All in all, he has the perfect dick

Mammon also has a bubble butt, and he loves it when you smack the globes of his ass. Instant turn on.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Mammon doesn’t like admitting it, but he has an extremely high libido. He’ll be more than willing to fuck you multiple times a day, and he cannot go three days without having sex with you

Sex with Mammon is pretty routinely and occurs several times a week, or even more if you’ve been purposely teasing him throughout the day

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He gets pretty sleeping after cumming, but he makes sure to never fall asleep before you. Mammon will make sure that he’s done aftercare properly before sliding into bed beside you and holding you close till he falls asleep

It brings him joy to be able to fall asleep with you in his arms after sex, and he loves the sheer intimacy of it all

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Emotion (Kakashi x Reader)

A/N: Kakashi again...can't get enough of this mans tbh. U r an empath due to your kekkei genkai and Kakashi has always been difficult to read. Friend to lovers. Sharing one bed folks, we got some steamyyy shit here. Angst warning as well.

Word count: 6000

He was always alone. Ever since his childhood, he walked the world completely alone with only a few people there to support him. No mother, no father, no mentor, no teammates. He was at the mercy of fate his entire life, things being stolen from him time and time again. 

He just prayed that he could keep her. Y/N L/N, the only woman to have wormed her way into his heart and made a home there.

When they first met, Kakashi and Y/N, she cursed him for being such a weirdo. Apparently his mind was empty and his heart was seemingly full of sand. He was conditioned that way, and that is how he lived for the longest time. It wasn't a surprise for him to hear that.

But she thought it was stranger than anything she'd ever seen, and so she followed him. She would figure him out, bring him back down to Earth from his supposed high horse. That woman was determined, and frankly he didn't mind her being around. She was quiet enough that it didn't matter. Not to mention on the missions they had together, she was quite the partner.

Over time, she'd learned to read him like a book. It was part of her clan's kekkei genkai. The ultimate empath, I suppose. The ability to read a persons every single emotion and then turn that, if they so choose, into power. 

She was never the greatest fighter, but her negotiation skills were the best they could possibly be. She would dive into the emotions of another and manipulate them backwards and forwards to get what she wanted. 

It was overwhelming, walking into a room of people and immediately being bombarded with so many feelings coming at her all at once. Occasionally, if the situation was bad enough she'd have to take a seat and clear her mind, organizing each person in her mind like a filing cabinet of empathy.

But damn, did she try to weasel out every bit of feeling she could. It was just something that came so naturally, she couldn’t help but instigate whatever was brewing up inside him.

"Kakashi, if you're happy, you know you're allowed to express it. You don't have to hide it away," she told him, staring at the masked man sitting across from her at the table. He was watching as she sharpened her kunai, and she could feel the content running off his body in small bursts. He was feeling better. Better than he had in a little while. Of course she picked up on it.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. She was always reading him, he knew that. He just preferred when she refrained from mentioning it. It did, most times, feel like a bit of an invasion of privacy, how she could deep dive into the corners of his mind. There were things no one else could ever possibly know that she did. It was strange, but he was used to it.

"What? Want me to smile or something?"

"No, but you should let yourself go. Just drop the facade."

"Stop doing that. Getting into my head."

Quietly, she set down her blade and picked up the next one, taking a cloth and softly wiping away any dirt. Her eyes slide up to his for a moment, her all knowing gaze filling his vision. "It's basically impossible. Especially if you're the only one around. There's nothing else to focus on except you." He knew that. It wasn't like she had an on or off switch. That was the downside of this dojutsu. Unlike sharingan and byakugan users, hers was always pulling the strings of her brain.

"You've got that mission next week. With Naruto and a few of the other kids, right?"

"Yes."

"It's A rank, isn't it?"

She hummed in agreement. He had a habit of knowing about all her missions, more importantly being the dangerous ones. He wasn't necessarily scared for her, probably not. He was more cautious than anything. There was this nagging feeling in his head that he shouldn't let her go on these missions alone. That it was too dangerous for her to handle. 

But he was wrong. She was stronger than he thought, and could hold her own in battle. He was just a worrier. He'd just lost too many, seen too many bodies in front of his eyes to trust. God, he wanted to trust her, but he couldn't. She was too vulnerable. His friend, one of the only ones who hadn't died yet. For all he knew, her days numbered, that's how paranoid he was about everything.

"You'll be careful?"

"That's a silly question." He gave her a look that said he was more serious than anything, and she sighed. "Of course I'll be careful. I have people that would miss me if I wasn't." He was one of them. She could sense his fear whenever she said goodbye and his relief when she returned. He really tried to remain objective, but his heart said otherwise. 

And she would be a liar to say that she did not experience the same relief seeing him come home from missions, even if he was beaten and bruised to the bone, she was just happy he made it back. So many never got to come home. It was a sick world, they lived in, but she could relish in the little comforts.

"Don't worry about me. I'll always turn out fine. It's you and your dumb students we have to worry about."

"I hear you. Those kids are enough to drive a person mad." He rested his chin in his palm, the mere thought of those kids causing his blood pressure to rise.

"Thankfully my students never gave me any trouble. Sweet little things."

"Well, aren't you just lucky, Y/N?"

"What can I say? Kurenai and I got the luck of the draw with our students. You men had it rough, I have to admit," she laughed. It was funny that he was so unfortunate to have gotten assigned the Uchiha and the Uzumaki, two completely opposite but persistent forces. "Despite your perverted tendencies and your perpetual lateness, you still did a great job teaching them."

"Thanks. But do you really have to call me a pervert? I'm really not."

"Yeah? That explains why you read porn in public. Admit you're a pervert, you dumb old man."

"We're the same age-" he began to argue, but she just cut him off with her harsh words.

"Creep," she muttered, running the sharpening stone along her blade. He narrowed his eyes. She was being awfully annoying, and he knew she could sense his irritation building up. Yet she continued just to be a pain in the ass.

 He warned, "Hey. Watch it, L/N."

"Okay, okay, I'll stop...Pervert." She ducked her head when his hand reached out to wring her around the neck for being so frustrating, and she continued to laugh. It was nice, having a friend she could joke with and be around without having to worry about what she said. He might pretend to be mad, but she could feel the happiness still rolling off his body thickly under all that fake neutrality. 

He was happier than he'd been in a long while, and she found herself swelling with pride knowing that she might have helped make that happen. Her lips curled into the gentlest of smiles as she peered back up at him, and he found himself smiling back even if it was just through the mask. 

He swore in that moment, he'd make sure Y/N didn't end up like all the others. She would live. He'd break this wretched curse just for her. He was sure of it.

______

"How could you be so reckless?! Do you want to die?" Kakashi shouted at his friend who could only stand there angrily, arms crossed over her chest and one foot in the other direction. She didn't need to be lectured by someone who took just as many risks every single mission as she did.

"Kakashi, I really don't want to hear it. You have no idea how it went."

"Yeah but Naruto does, and we were just talking."

She placed her free hand over her chest and exclaimed even angrier than before, "You're going to trust a kid over me? Naruto even?" It was just low to trust Naruto when she was right there to explain herself. Just let her speak for once, she wanted to say but he of course, had something else to say.

He waved his arm toward the ramen shop, eyes glaring. "Don’t be rude. He's right there. What is wrong with you?"

Indeed, Naruto was sitting inside Ichiraku with Jiraiya at his side, munching on pork ramen while the pair fought outside. Kakashi was eating with them, taking a break from his work to just relax with his master and student when out of the corner of his eye he noticed Y/N stumbling down the street on her crutch. 

He heard when she got back home that she was in the infirmary for a couple days. He had no idea for what reason until Naruto explained to him what happened. She was being needlessly reckless on the battlefield, relying too much on her kekkei genkai and not enough on her brain. She threw herself right in the way of an enemy, for what reason, he didn't know. All he knew was that she could have died and she didn't seem to care one bit.

Rightfully so, he was mad. Normally he preferred not to make a scene in the open like this, but there wasn't anyone else around and he was red-hot.

She huffed. "He knows I don't mean anything bad by that. How could he not? I'm also his sensei, you know."

"Doesn't matter," Kakashi brushed off her words. "What you did was dangerous and you don't seem to care. Next time what are you gonna do? Run right into the arms of the enemy?"

"No, I would never. Kakashi, you're just being a jerk right now. I'm literally injured from the hip down and you have to yell at me? Jeez, just be grateful I'm alive, okay? Things happen," she tried to reason with him, but he didn't acknowledge it. He wasn't exactly feeling all that rational.

"Things don't just happen like that."

She groaned, "Well apparently they do, because it happened to me."

His eye narrowed and she noticed the way he clenched and unclenched his fists a couple times by his sides. Clearly he was just trying to channel his anger, but he really had no reason to be so upset. She hadn't done anything to him. He really needed to relax. "This is so like you L/N's. Always so emotional. Always thinking you're stronger than you actually are."

"Excuse you-"

"Get a grip, you aren't going to live forever."

"First off, don't interrupt me. Second, don't talk about my clan ever again, you hear me, Hatake? We don't live to please your dumbass," she cursed, how dare he say shit about her clan. That asshole. He was just being so...so unlike himself. She had no idea what had gotten into him, but she hated it and just wanted to continue on her way before he said something else stupid. 

Normally, she didn't expect to be bombarded in the street nearly the second she leaves the hospital, but Kakashi never fails to surprise her.

"I've got to go. Don't bother following me." With that, she took off past him, rushing as fast as she could on her crutch, which was pathetically slow. Silently, she cringed at how ridiculous she must look waddling around like this in a fit of rage. Nevermind that. She had better things to do.

He huffed out the breath he had been holding to walk back into the ramen shop, taking his seat beside Naruto and slouching down into the stool. Immediately, Master Jiraiya met his eyes, wisdom about to drip from his tongue once again. "You need to go apologize."

"Why? She clearly doesn't want that right now."

"Well, to start, you insulted her clan which is a big no-no. Imagine saying that to an Uchiha. You're lucky she let you off so easily."

"Yeah, Kakashi. You kinda just attacked her out there in the street," Naruto added.

Jiraiya continued, "Mainly though, the longer you let her stay angry, the worse it'll be for you in the end. Trust me."

"She said don't follow her."

"And you're actually going to listen?" The older man laughed. "You and her fighting reminded me a lot of young Tsunade and I. And let me tell you, you don't just let a woman like that go. I sure did. It’s not a fun time."

"Yeah, Kakashi sensei, go find Y/N."

The jounin stood from his stool and slapped a ramen voucher onto the counter top to pay for his meal. This really didn't seem like a good idea, he had to admit. But he would trust the process. This was the author of his favorite romance series, after all. How could he get something like this wrong? To put blind faith into Jiraiya on realistic romantic matters was probably the not the wisest thing to do, but it was the only thing he had to go on. "I'll go, but this doesn't sound like good advice."

"If you let this go, she's might run into the arms of another man for comfort. Do you want that?"

Tch, there was no way she was gonna do that. She barely had any friends. If anything she would go see Kurenai. Still, he pulled back the cloth at the entrance and muttered, "I gotta catch up to her."

"'Atta boy," Jiraiya cheered, waving off the copy nin. "Another bowl, Naruto?"

"Yes, please!"

Kakashi walked down the streets, looking for the woman he was sent on a mission to find and apologize to. He searched through the shops and the stands for her, walked by her apartment no sign of her. It wasn't until he stumbled by the bookstore that he found her eyeing down the display out front, leaning comfortably on her crutch.

"Y/N," he called to her, and he watched as she tensed up without a second. He caught up to her, walking to stand beside her in front of the store windows. "I need to talk to you."

"What do you want?" She questioned, peering over at him with a quirked brow. He seemed calmed down by now. Thankfully. "Also, didn't I tell you not to follow me?"

"You did, but Jiraiya told me to apologize."

"So this isn't even on your own accord, you're doing it because Jiraiya told you so." He groaned. Of course she would twist his words and find some way to make things bad on his end. She was angry with him, what did he expect to happen? Her to accept him with open arms?

"Listen, I'm sorry for yelling at you. I was just overwhelmed."

"With what? I wasn't paying attention to anything but the anger." She picked at her finger nails in an attempt to remain casual, but really she was just itching to hear what he had to say. She was willing to give him a second chance, only because he was normally so sweet. This was just out of character for him.

He replied, "I was scared for you. Naruto told me about how you nearly died, and I was upset that you did that. I was upset because I could only think about what if you had been overpowered and the enemy killed you." His explanation was weak, but he hoped she would accept it as truth. He really wasn't lying. When he heard she was in the hospital indefinitely, he nearly had a heart attack himself. He worried for her every time she left on a mission without him. It just meant that if she failed, he wasn't there to protect her himself. He couldn't handle that thought.

"So you were worried?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's sweet of you, isn't it?"

"I'd miss you, you know. If you died."

She froze. That wasn't what she expected him to say. When she looked over at him, he was just staring into the storefront window, but she could feel the sadness in waves running off his body. She wobbled around on her crutch to face him, a hand getting coming up to rest on his shoulder. "It's okay."

"I don't want you going on missions without me because every time it scares the shit out of me thinking they'll bring you back dead. Every time. I don't know why."

"It's normal to worry for your teammates."

"It's not the same, and you know it."

"Ah." And she felt it. Even if it was just a little hint of something, she felt his infatuation roll off his body and she took it in like a drink of cold water. So refreshing. Was he attracted to her? She had no idea before this that he cared so much but from the sound of it, he had some strong feelings attached. She wanted to reach out and hug him, tell him it was going to be okay, but that felt too personal. Instead, she leant back and muttered, "You know, Kakashi, I worry about you too."

"It's good we both have someone who cares, right?"

"Right."

"Well, I should be on my way, but, uh, if you need some help getting up to your apartment-"

"I should be fine."

"Okay, good."

"Yeah, so uh, see you," she turned on her heel and started heading in the other direction toward her home when suddenly, his hand reached out to stop her. 

"Wait, Y/N. I think..."

"What is it?"

"It's just that I need you. Please be careful from now on."

She stopped, turning around just enough to get a good look at his face. He only watched her, a glimmer of something she didn't recognize in his eye. 

"As long as you take care of yourself too, Mister."

"Y/N, I…"

All she could feel was a rough fabric rubbing against her face for a second before the full picture came into view. 

Mask to lips. I repeat, mask to lips.

She stared at him, as he kissed her right there in front of their favorite bookstore. When he pulled away after a second, he seemed just as shocked as she was. She pressed a hand to her forehead and struggled to find the right words to say. 

Kakashi Hatake just kissed her. 

And she definitely liked it. More than any other kiss she’d ever had before. She loved it. Mask or not, that was one of the best surprises of her entire life, and she honestly had no idea how to react. She settled for the easiest possible thing, running in the opposite direction, give herself time to think over what that meant for the two of them if anything at all. Kakashi wasn’t the type to have a girlfriend, he was always single. There just wasn’t room in his life for her.

There was plenty room in her life to fit him in comfortably. And there was more than enough room in her bed as well. 

Flustered, with heat coming to sit in her cheeks and run up her neck, she turned and motioned in the direction of her home. She just had too many thoughts to sit here and pretend she wasn’t dying inside from the tension.

"I've got to run home now," she managed to say. "Well, not run, with these crutches and all, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I should be going too. I'll see you around,” he mumbled, running his hand through his hair and down the back of his neck. 

"See you."

And into separate directions they went, just as confused as ever.

______

"Kakashi, I swear to God, if you don't stay on your side of the bed, I'm gonna-

"You'll what? Hit me? Go ahead. You're the one that keeps snoring."

"Shut up!" she exclaimed, rolling over in the bed and planting her fist directly in the middle of his chest. He didn't even flinch, she hadn't meant to hurt him anyway. She was just so annoyed. You would think that the stoic Hatake would be easy to sleep beside but no, he was a pain in the ass. He was rude. He was way too hot under the sheets. He still smelled like dog even after taking a bath. Just overall a bad experience, definitely 0 out of 10.

"What? It's the truth."

She groaned, throwing one of her arms over her eyes, burying her nose in the crook of her elbow. "Whatever. Don't ever mention my snoring again. It’s embarrassing me." She was self-conscious. She was usually so good at maintaining a cool and calm presence and now Kakashi was seeing that all crumble. Great. 

"Fine."

"Can't you just stay on your side so we can both sleep comfortably?"

"Can't you just stop snoring so I can sleep comfortably?" 

What a bastard. She could practically feel him snickering beneath his mask, and she felt frustration bubbling up in her chest. He was annoying. The audacity of this man, laughing and causing trouble in the night when they clearly had a mission to continue tomorrow. She could actually feel the delight radiating off his form.

She jumped up from her spot and threw herself onto the man beside her, attempting to make a vicious grab for the throat so she could maybe shut him up for just a few seconds. He dodged easily, taking her wrists in his calloused hand and lowering them to rest on his chest. Still, he continued to laugh at her. She felt like an utter joke sitting there on his stomach, looking at him through loose strands of her hair. 

She grumbled under her breath, her cheeks puffing out full of embarrassment, "Stupid."

"Me? Stupid? Look at you."

She replied swiftly, "What about me? You're the one with that ugly grin on your face." Quickly, she snatched her hands out from under his to cross her arms over her chest. She rocked back a bit on her knees to get a better look at his indeed ugly face. 

Except he definitely wasn't ugly, and that grin was more devilishly handsome than anything else. And honestly, she felt herself starting to get flustered in the position she'd put herself in. Of course she didn't hate Kakashi. He was one of her friends and coworkers. It was just that sometimes he could be casually attractive and she found herself falling under his spell. 

He just looked so fucking good lying there, staring up at her with a glimmer in his dark eyes. She could see the smile outlined under his mask. His hands had felt warm and firm around her own fingers. She missed his touch, there she said it, any touch on her body from Kakashi Hatake felt like heaven. He was far too cute, and the soft contact between them drove her crazy.

She wanted to punch herself for thinking such silly things. This was Kakashi, one of her frenemies. Not boyfriend material. Stupid. Silly. 

If only he didn't look so good, Jesus christ. Get your brain out of the gutter, Y/N.

Little did she know, his mind was already waist deep in those damn gutters and he was loving it.

"You really think that?"

"What? That you're ugly?" She asked, tilting her head to the side just a bit as if to think about it. Only a second later, another mischievous smile crossed her lips. "Of course."

He lifted his fingers to slid along her waist and down to her hips, fingers curling ever so slightly around her curves. She shuddered as his hands slid down to hold the sides of her bare thighs in his hands, his warm, strong hands with the softest fingertips. She wanted to die.

Had they kissed before? Yes. We're they somewhat romantically involved? Maybe. Did that give him any good reason to rest his rough hands on her thighs like that? Probably, and her thoughts were running a mile a minute at this point. 

"Kakashi...stop that," she said softly, her voice lowering from how it was before. She suddenly felt a lot smaller, scared even. Hooking up with Kakashi wasn't something she planned on doing anytime in the near future, if at all. He was her friend, and she felt strange sitting in his lap with his hands all over her. It felt so right but wrong at the same time, like she was breaking the law. Well, laws of friendship that is.

She cared about Kakashi, more than she wanted to admit. He wasn't just a friend, he was something weirdly in between and she couldn't exactly put her finger on how she felt about him. All she knew was that if she was going to have sex with this man, it would be the right way. They would have to date first. She wasn't just gonna sleep around this time. He was different. 

She wanted to impress him, to make him smile and laugh, to take him out to dinner and hold hands on their way home, to kiss at her doorstep. She wanted all of that before any of this.

His hands dropped from her sides and she crawled away from him, grabbing her blanket and cradling herself in it. "Listen, Y/N, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I know, it's not your fault. Don't worry about it."

It was quiet. Just the sounds of both their breaths filling the air and the crickets chirping in the darkness outside. She shifted in her blanket to rest her head on the wall, leaning against it with her shoulder. He remained on his back, staring up at the empty ceiling tiles. 

It was now so terribly awkward. Thanks, Y/N.

Finally, he broke the silence. "You, uh, don't snore all that much. I was just teasing you."

"Thanks," she exhaled. "You're not as ugly as I said."

"I know."

Wow, Kakashi. So modest.

Her words fell right into place as she spoke, emotions slipping out with each breath. She looked at his profile in the dark, the way his bedhead stood on end, his nose pointed upward and his lips sat calmly, the curve of his chin under the edge of his mask, the way his eyes just sat there unmoving and gentle, brows soft above the eye. She took in all of him as she confessed, "I just don't want it to be like this. I don't want to fall for you this way."

"I get it."

"I just think that you and I could be something different. You're not like the other guys to me, at least, I don't think of you that way," she took a deep breath. He still stared deep in the ceiling, and somehow it made her comfortable enough to confess everything she'd been feeling. It was as if he could just lay there and listen without words forever. "I don't want you to just fuck me before we really...well I don't know, we've never even been on a date. I...I think I'm ready to fall in love with you."

"Then let's do it."

She peered over at him, lips agape with surprise. She hadn't expected much at all, but certainly not that. "What?"

"When we get back to the village, I'll take you on a date, more if things go well. We can take it as slow as you want," he told her, turning to lay on his side, facing her. He watched as she cuddled further into the comforter, only a peek of her face in his view. She was actually kinda cute through all those worn and torn layers. "I don't think I can let you go this time."

"Really?"

"Anything for you."

She ducked her head down to stare at the hardwood beneath her feet. She was overwhelmed by how nice he was being. Normally, it didn't go like this. Things normally got sexual so quick there wasn't even a chance for these sorts of conversations. It was just different with Kakashi. She could say no to him and expect better, because she knew he could deliver. "No one has ever treated me like this before."

He smiled. "Well, it's about time someone did."

"Can you hold me?"

"Come on." He lifted his arm up with the covers attached so she could crawl over and burrow herself next him, tucked right against his side. He rested his arm around her shoulders and held her close to his chest. Things were looking good for the both of them. Better than they had in a long time.

He wished this kind of thing could last forever. The beating of her heart, the laughter in her voice, the shine in her eyes. He just wished he could have bottled it all up and held it close to him for the rest of his life. 

But he waited too long, and the opportunity slipped from his grasp.

______

The pair fought hard. Kakashi was better than her, everyone knew that. The enemy targeted her for that reason. It was clear as day that she was important to Kakashi, and the enemy quickly caught onto that. He was quick to bring the knife to her neck, pressing the woman’s back tightly to his chest. The blade stung her skin, already piercing the flesh from the bit of pressure he applied.

She cried out, feeling a trail of blood begin running down her neck. Her nails clawed at his arm, desperate to get him to release her from his clutches, but he persisted. One hand held onto her chin tightly, keeping her face from thrashing, and the other continued to apply more and more pressure into the blade. 

For the first time in a long time, she found herself feeling unrestricted fear. She was scared. Scared for her life. She’d never been in this situation before, feeling so completely and utterly helpless like a deer caught in the headlights. Kakashi was right there, she should have known everything was going to be okay. After all, she had the village’s strongest veteran on her side.

It wasn’t the pain that caused the tears to bubble up in the corners of her eyes, no, it was Kakashi. The way his eyes darted over to the them, and she could feel his heart beginning to race, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, and the fear creeping up into his heart. He never wore his heart on his sleeve. He was so closed off, sometimes she could only get a wisp of emotion from him, especially the ones that showed such vulnerability. 

Now it all seemed to come tumbling out like a landslide. She was drowning in fear, his and her own. 

“Let her go,” he called out, practically pleading with the man across from him, but it was in vain. 

“Like I’d listen to some filthy leaf shinobi,” the spy replied angrily. He felt so hot, burning up with so much anger she wanted to throw up. What had they done to upset him this badly? Her jaw was starting to ache from being held so tightly, and she swore she could taste blood running down her throat. This was bad. This was so terribly, miserably bad. 

Kakashi stood there, his hands hovering at his sides, unknowing of what to do. She was already bleeding out all over the collar of her shirt. If he made a single move, the man could easily finish the job with one fatal swipe. The copy nin felt cornered. Hopeless. What was there left to do? He’d let the love of his life fall in the hands of some petty criminal. 

Come on, think of something. Anything. Just think of something.

“What? You upset I’ve got your little girlfriend here?”

God, he was so desperate. The man taunting him didn’t help at all. He just felt himself spiralling deeper into hopelessness. He bargained, “Please, just let her go. I’ll give you whatever you want.” 

It wouldn’t work though. This man was set in his ways, and there was no changing that. He came into this fight knowing exactly what he wanted to do. And he was going to finish the job. 

“This is for what you shinobi have done to my people,” he sneered before she felt the knife dip further into her neck, sliding painfully across her throat. He dropped her head from his grasp, and as soon as he had, her body crumbled down to the ground. She collapsed in a bleeding heap on the dirt. 

The criminal quickly ran into the forest behind them, getting lost among the trees and the bushes within seconds. None of that mattered though. Kakashi could only run over to her limp body lying there on the ground, sputtering and coughing on thick blood filling her throat and lungs. Her cheeks and lips painted red now from spitting so much up. He fell to his knees beside her body, and for the first time in a long time, he felt a tear drip down his face.

She cried, hot tears running down her cheeks into the dirt on either side of her head. She cried for her pathetic self, having been attacked and injured in this way. She cried for Kakashi, feeling the pain and sadness, the panic, radiating off his form. She took in every emotion he was feeling, wanting to savor being with him for as long as she had, to fully take him in one last time. 

“Y/N, it’s gonna be okay,” he whispered, his hands running over her hair and cheek, smearing blood on her skin and his fingers. “We’ll bring you back to the village. The Hokage can fix you.” His words were so soft into the air, like if he spoke any louder he would hurt her.

They both knew that none of what he was saying was true. She was as good as dead.

She lifted her hand weakly to sit on his other hand. “I…” The woman took a labored breath.. “Love you, Kashi.”

“No, no, no. Don’t say that,” he hushed her, feeling his heart grow heavier in his chest with every second that passed, every look at her bloody neck and face, her laboring chest as she took hopeless breaths. He was falling apart in this moment, desperate for fate to change, for her to magically be better. He choked, “You can’t die, Y/N.”

“It’s okay.” Her words were slurred and hard to hear, liquid bubbling up in her throat to the point she was almost incomprehensible. “I love you,” she confessed once again. She wanted those to be her last ever words to him, the words he would remember for the rest of his life. To know someone out there loved him more than anything else.

He had to know that he was her everything. He was the best thing that ever happened to her, and she was going to miss him so terribly wherever her soul went after this. She just wished there was more time to tell him everything she felt. Yet, time was passing faster than she thought, and all those words felt impossible.

“I love you, too. You have to live for me. Just keep breathing, it's going to be okay.”

“It...hurts.”

More misery erupted his chest, and he found himself wanting to scream. Tears dripped steadily down both his cheeks now as he watched this woman die in front of him, one of the only people he truly needed in his life. “I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry I let this happen to you.”

She nodded faintly, her eyes beginning to close. He was starting to panic. Was this his last moment to say goodbye? Their time together was so short, how was this fair? He’d already lost everyone he ever cared about, and now this? He felt like the gods were laughing down at him and his misfortune. 

“You were the best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t know how I’ll do this without you.”

She didn’t respond, but she was still breathing. 

“Y/N, please.”

And he watched as her chest fell still and her labored breaths were silent on his ears. He found himself gathering her form up against his chest, her head cradled in the crook of his neck, just sobbing into her hair, weeping for a long lasting love gone in an instant. 

 He carried her body home that day himself. Something he never anticipated happening, but should have prepared for. He always thought he was going to watch as someone else carried her home to him, death long gone before he had the chance to see. He never thought it would be right in front of him. He thought he could protect her, save her from the clutches of fate. He was so wrong.

Kakashi was alone once again.

[gheysnakeredacted]

Dadschlatt Tommy AU Thoughts: Nov. 16 War Edition

Lore Context: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

HAHA you thought this AU would die like canon Schlatt?! Nah

Have some of my many thoughts on Dadschlatt Tommy AU with this new context n just general thoughts

So let’s get right into it!

The Deal

So, I think we can all agree that Dream is a chaotic evil bastard n only wants chaos right? At least, I’m making him fully the lil puppet master evil man in his AU

And, after the ban, Dream REALLY hates Schlatt, for he is the cause of all this L’manberg n government type stuff that had happened. Even if he let him back on, it was just suppose to be a short time and honestly he would rather be rid of him than anything else

So what could Schlatt offer to Dream that no one else can?

Perhaps. Schlatt could comply to Dream permakilling him :) (probably by a potion, in which everyone saw him “drinking” you know?

But mostly permadeath only happens when people are ‘too far gone’ or ‘chose not to’ come back (Wilbur) n other means (special potions, etc)

n Schlatt at this point is just so damn tired. He believes that nothing can connect him to his son again, that he knows of Wilbur’s plans to blow up Manberg but he just doesn’t CARE

He put so much pain onto others because of his disconnection to his own emotions, and he can only now see the damage done in the realization that he had found his son

And when he makes the deal, Schlatt feels like he has done too much damage to Tommy. That anything he would be willing to build up could never exist, and he just accepts it

Schlatt makes the deal with Dream to kill him permanently, and in return, to make sure the same fate does not befall onto Tommy 

(OR Dream threatens to permakill Tommy if Schlatt doesn’t take the deal lol)

SO, Schlatt goes into war knowing full well that he will die that day

Tommy’s POV

SO, in this ‘’canon’’ version of Dadschlatt Tommy AU, the meeting between Schlatt n Quackity is “reveal” that Tommy is Schlatt’s son

HOWEVER, it is only revealed to Quackity n Tommy, as Wilbur ran off for the button room and the others are nowhere to be found (but Dream knows ;0)

n Tommy of course is in full denial about it at first, but the way Schlatt is looking at him, with actual raw emotion? He knows it has to be true

n Quackity confirming it, (which results in a lil  argument after the whole ‘traitor meeting’ n how to proceed with all that)

And Tommy just tells him to fuck off, that even if it was true, he had abandoned him and left him with nightmares. n he will never TRULY be his Dad (thus why Schlatt slinks off n makes the deal with Dream, since Dream had been watching)

But after the fact, as Tommy gets betrayed by dream n told there is a traitor among them, he can’t find himself being extremely mad at Schlatt

Schlatt had done terrible, TERRIBLE things, but all of them had been done by others. Even himself. Even the festival, where Tubbo was shot, he would still respawn. To him, it was just a glorified exile (though of course it was still wrong n Schlatt was in the wrong for doing it)

n Tommy can’t miss the fact of how Schlatt’s face faltered when he did such terrible crimes, like he actually felt GUILTY doing them

(Schlatt be doing terrible things because he feels that is what people expect from him. n again, he is slowly diving into ‘i just dont care’ territory)

And Wilbur is losing it more and more everyday, so Tommy is always out of Pogtopia (even building more homes)

n sometimes, he wanders close to Manberg, just to check up on things n how nothing is progressing

Without Quackity n Fundy, its a ghost town, with only Schlatt wandering

n sometimes, Tommy watches him stumble, the way he walks like a dead man singing...something

A familiar Lullaby, that Tommy is becoming more and more aware, of the songs he remembers yet could never place

And one day Schlatt spots Tommy watching him, n just meekly tells him to get out of his country, that Tommy doesn’t listen to

It turns into them just sitting together, in secret, saying nothing

but then it turns into Schlatt actually asking how Tommy has been, small talk n its awkward but comforting at the same time

Then Schlatt going on, slowly, about his childhood, about how he met Wilbur n SMPLive and all the people he has met

and Tommy listens, he slowly gets into the crazy stories he tells n remembers how he had looked up to Schlatt whenever Wilbur brought up his crazy business man friend long lost

Until finally, Tommy asks about his childhood, n Schlatt tells him of what had happened. Of how he found him, how he was raised and...the explosion

It is only a day before the war, after his talk with Sapnap, that Tommy realizes that he DOES want to save his Dad. and of course, Schlatt would never replace Phil, n vise versa, but he does actually want to try.

n Schlatt is just happy he gets to spend these little moments with Tommy, something he never imagined happening, before the war takes his life :)

The Van Scene

Tommy refuses to kill Schlatt in the van, no matter how much everyone is goading him but that’s fine

Schlatt had already drank the potion before everyone got into the hut, n is just laying there, very still

The scene with Fundy/Schlatt doesn’t happen because, Dadschlatt Vibe

n Tommy comes in and he’s screaming, trying to get Schlatt on his feet n refusing to let people closer n try n kill him (even tho Wilbur REALLY wants Schlatt dead)

And in all this, Tommy takes off his helmet n hat to reveal all his features to everyone, everyone on the server gets to see Tommy

Even if respawn is on btw, Tommy knows deep down something is wrong about Schlatt this time

n Schlatt is smiling because there he is! That’s his son! At least, even if he is dying, he could see his son one last time

Of course, then Schlatt starts singing, very quietly so only Tommy could hear over all the chaos, his favorite lullaby

Until the darkness takes over his vision, n the warmth leaves his body.

:)

(Of course there is also the version Schlatt tricks Dream n drinks the wrong potion that kills him, probably regular harming, n goes off into exile w only Connor knowing where he is, n Tommy but u know, angst time)

Also after all this, the plot continues “””as normal””” but with more patronizing from Dream n everyone still being sus @ him especially with the horns but you know. But now Connor being a very important character of helping Tommy remember his past while Schlatt is dead (or is he? lmao)

[sparring-hyena]

um heyy,can u maybe write a becca x mc fic w the angst w happy ending prompt maybe in context w the whole madison fiasco🥺

“i can’t be with someone who thinks it’s okay to treat another person like that,” Alex says, and Becca knows—she knows—she means it.

and she knows Alex has a point. what she did was cruel, but Maddison started this whole thing. so it’s not her fault... right?

“fine,” Becca says, her tone hard. “it’s not like i care anyway.” and that’s a lie.

Becca sees the moment Alex’s walls shoot back up. she looks almost surprised for a moment, but that quickly falls. and what replaces it is a stony impassiveness.

“right. of course not.”

and that’s just sorta it. they don’t fight or shout or say anything else. Alex leaves with her hands buried deep in her pockets. and Becca stands alone on the quad as a gust of wind cuts through.

when Becca arrives home later that night, the house is still. she walks past Alex’s room on the way to her own and sees a thin strip of light beneath the door. she doesn’t stop to knock though.

-

Becca doesn’t see Alex for a while. she thinks that might actually be deliberate. the others seem to notice that something’s wrong though. it’s Chris who points it out when it’s just him and Becca in the kitchen late one morning.

“does Alex seem a little off to you?”

Becca pauses for a moment. carefully considering her next words. “how so?” she asks, hoping it comes off as aloof.

“i dunno, she doesn’t seem like her usual self, y’know?”

and Becca doesn’t know because she hasn’t actually seen Alex in almost a week. but still, she hums a yes and hopes Chris doesn’t ask anything else.

“Zack thinks we should do a movie night on Sunday. just the five of us.”

“that could be good,” Becca says, even though she doubts it. a movie night with her there probably wouldn’t help Alex at all. but she can’t say that. because they don’t know.

“you think?” Chris says, and he looks at Becca, head titled a little to the side, almost like he knows.

“sure.” Becca shrugs. “Alex is into all that cheesy roommate bonding stuff. might be good for her.”

Chris hums and doesn’t say anything more on the matter.

-

Sunday night comes and they all pile into the living room and spread out on the couches and bean bags.

Becca claims an edge seat on the sofa while Zack takes the other end, Kaitlyn and Chris each dive onto a bean bag, and then Becca realises the problem as soon as Alex comes into the living room with a bowl of popcorn. the only spot left is the middle seat on the sofa between Becca and Zack.

shit.

Becca watches Alex stand in the archway for a moment too long. watches as Alex has to psyche herself up and that sorta stings—the fact that Alex has to make herself sit next to Becca.

Chris seems to notice that something’s up. he shoots a curious glance over his shoulder at Becca. but she just looks away and pretends that she doesn’t see it.

Alex drops into the seat and the air between them goes stiff. there’s space between them, almost too much. they’re supposed to be friends—at least to everyone else—and this is almost too much space for two friends sitting next to each other on a couch. Becca’s pressed up against the armrest and Alex is doing everything she can to stay on her cushion.

Alex’s offers Becca some popcorn and Becca reaches her hand out to the bowl. it almost feels like she’s reaching through a forcefield.

it’s halfway through the movie when Becca places her hand in the space between them. it’s a habit at this point. and she wonders—no, hopes—that Alex will meet her halfway. she always used to.

it takes a few minutes but Alex does. she places her hand down on the couch beside Becca’s and then links their pinkies together.

Becca releases a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding and suddenly starts enjoying the movie that’s more than halfway over now.

the credits start to roll and Kaitlyn jumps up to flick the lights on. Alex doesn’t pull her hand away and neither does Becca. Zack mumbles something about needing an early night and Kaitlyn says me too and follows him upstairs.

Chris glances at Alex and Becca’s pinkies linked together and smiles. Alex doesn’t seem to notice but Becca certainly does, and the gesture makes her feel warm and like she’s got someone looking out for her.

Becca and Alex sit on the couch, still with their pinkies linked together, for another few minutes. and Becca really has missed this.

it’s Alex who pulls her hand away first. she offers Becca a smile and says, “goodnight, i’ll see you tomorrow.”

it’s the first thing Alex has said to her in a week and Becca hopes this means she didn’t ruin what they were. they still have to talk, and maybe they’ll end up fighting, but Becca goes to sleep happy that night because maybe they have a chance.

[soukokuwu]

hi there! hope ur doing well esp in times like these. i must say i absolutely adore ur writing. both the chuuya angst fics literally made me cry. i never cried to any other fics before. it was amazing. may i request an angst scenario where Dazai has an s/o & a person from his past (from his port mafia days) wanted revenge on him. now Dazai is incredibly smart & manipulative & they know that (impossible to kill) so they go after s/o & kills them. i hope i'm not bothering u. have a nice day/night.

something left unguarded.

     genre. angst (dazai x reader)      warnings. death, kidnapping/implied assault      synopsis. there are times when dazai wishes he’s dead. this is one of those times.      word count. 1.8k      author notes. hi kitty! sorry this took me ungodly long, and i’m not sure if this is what you were looking for but i hope it’s okay!! <33

there’s some unspoken things that come together with love.

for dazai, that’s the slow crumbling of his walls; the surrendering of firearms. he finds himself unfurling easily at the seams, and regarding what seems impossible for the vast majority, it’s like white on rice for you. best thing is? it comes easy, effortless. you don’t try to be someone you’re not; dazai can tell. you are just unapologetically, undoubtedly you. that’s the beauty of it all, to him.

never has he felt like this, in the crack of dawn, lying next to you on the bed, the distant sounds of the birds and your breathing is all he can hear. it’s weird — he used to hear so many voices in his head, so many conflicting ones telling him to kill himself and yet others telling him to stay because there’s bound to be something that makes him want to live.

the latter is right. because now look at him. he’s not hearing whispers in his mind, the condescending, doubtful voices are gone. it’s peace.

all that fills his thoughts are you. who was he, even, before he met you? he knows, he always knows, he’s mostly self-aware. but then, he doesn’t want to. doesn’t want to remember the person he used to be, because he loves who he is now, with you. do the voices come back sometimes? absolutely. but a minor interaction with you and he feels tranquililty. and he has no doubt that you are the only one capable of such a feat.

he always thought fear was the accompaniment of walls breaking down. why did you make him feel like it was liberating instead? is it just the impossible amount of trust he’s put into you? he doesn’t have to ever ask himself anything, never does he ever feel like he needs to doubt you. ever.

you’re a peculiar little thing, always doing what you think is best for him. you rarely ever do think of yourself, do you? that’s why dazai takes it upon himself to give you what you deserve, a wholesome, warming kind of romance, even if he isn’t so sure about it himself. dazai doesn’t know romance apart from those that’s raved about in books and movies. his whole life is an endless pit of darkness — that’s up ’til the point he met you, of course.

so if the novel, theatric kind of love is the only form of romance he knows, then the least he can do is give you that.

dazai turns and watches as you rest peacefully, weaving his fingers through your hair, appreciating the patterns of your chest rising and falling. how long has it been since he’s first watched you like this before you wake? he doesn’t really recall the exact number of days, but it’s around three years? and he can definitely deal with a lot more than this.

talks about the future has always been taboo for him. not that he hates it, but it’s because he can never feel excited about it. and frankly, it’s much more of a chore than anything. so now, catching himself actually envisioning a future with you? it feels surreal.

the two of you have a routine: wake up, make breakfast, kiss goodbye before work, actually work, come home, have dinner, maybe take a bath together before you go to bed. it’s habitual by now — everything on the list. and while the morning is no different, the afternoon definitely is.

first there is the anonymous letter he finds in his top desk drawer. nothing but a blank paper with a single ominous line of “this is for back then”. nothing else. just a single line written in blood red ink. the weretiger next to him seems a little freaked out by it, so it’s easy to tell that whoever did this made the effort to come in earlier than anyone to place this in his desk. and maybe they expected to elicit some other behaviour from him. distress? fear?

whatever it is though, it doesn’t get to him. he crumples it up and tosses it in the bin. (he misses it, but it’s not like he cares.)

he goes the rest of the afternoon in ignorant bliss. he texts you halfway though, asking if your lunch today was any good.

would be better if you were here, osamu.

dazai forgets for just a moment that you usually only type out osa. because that’s what you do to him sometimes — you make him let his guard down. he wastes no time replying you.

oh yeah, why’s that, darling? ;)

the next message that chimes in has his heart take a deep dive into the ground below him. it’s a picture. of a vile, disgusting man licking the side of your head, with you tied up to a chair, unconscious.

because then maybe she won’t be so boring like this.

not even bothering to explain, all dazai does is grab atsushi by the collar and drag him out of the agency. he’s the only combative one present currently, and frankly, if it comes to a fistfight, having him there is enough. of course, dazai is not planning to spare anyone. they dared touch you?

they’re as good as dead.

dazai never thinks letting his guard down is a crime. but he thinks the ultimate sin he’s committed? that he let himself slack on his guarding of you. because the moment he gets to you at your apartment, he realises it’s never been a race against time. the moment the picture was sent, you were already gone.

and the culprits are long gone, disappeared without a trace. except for the disgusting wet track of where his tongue traced your skin earlier. usually, dazai would go after them immediately, track them down and plan their demise.

it would have been his plan. had you been just another body, another death count. but you’re not. you’re his lady, his angel, his life. yet you’re lifeless now, your chest doesn’t rise up and down like it should. your body is dense, somewhat dry. it’s completely… not you.

atsushi doesn’t know what to do, he stands in the corner with his eyes trained on his superior who’s letting out more emotion than atsushi thinks he has in his entire life. he feels like he should console him somehow, but he knows that’s selfish thinking. dazai won’t appreciate that.

he’s right. dazai won’t. because the only person capable of giving him any sliver of hope in this god-forsaken world is gone. her body but an empty vessel, reminding him of who he once was and how he had longed to be.

and oh, how he longs to join you now.

worst part is? dazai can find no one to blame. no one but himself. not even the man who offed you. dazai recognises him, from way back in his port mafia days. which means there’s no one to blame but the person he once was, the one you made him feel like he and reprieve from.

until now.

losing you is his punishment, isn’t it? for everything he’s done. this is his judgement day and you’re another one of his sad victims. it’s your body, limp in his arms, eyes wide open and the complete stillness of it all.

and he realises maybe this is what people mean when they talk about ‘deathly silence’. he never thought that losing just the sound of your breathing would feel like this and yet here he is, with another casualty in his arms.

yet another soul he can’t save.

and dazai… despite all his attempts, is still alive.

it’s cliche, but it’s true.

the worst day of loving someone is the day you lose them.

except when they’re still around, it’s easy to take every moment for granted. because who, when they think they have everything, will think of the moment they’d lose it? sure, it may come in glimpses, but you never hover over it long enough for it to actually matter.

until it happens.

cups of hot chocolate and cuddling up to each other in the winters. words of affirmation and warmth bubbling inside chests. security of routines and safety of arms.

dazai can’t stop thinking of things that remind him of you. thinking of the good times like you’re still alive is the only thing that keeps him from breaking as they lower you into the ground.

you’re almost in there and all he can think about is the first time he tells you he loves you, the first proper time he lets his guard down. how you were on the couch with your legs tucked against your chest, misty eyes giving away just how much the whole situation means to you. you see, he always knew you had a fear of falling, but he never knew just how much, until that moment.

“you click your tongue whenever something annoys you, you subconsciously like to walk between the lines on tiled floors, you blame yourself for things that are out of your control,” dazai had told you. and he remembered the look in your eyes — that surprise, that gratefulness — because you never thought that anyone would spare you that much attention, did you? especially not him, who you knew would never spend time on anything that’s unimportant.

but he paid attention to you more than anything else.

“i love you, belladonna,” he had assured you, inching close and holding you in his arms. you always needed reassurance, and while dazai would usually think it’s a burden, nothing was when it came to you. “you may think you’re a mess, but i think you’re perfect.”

he lets your giggle be the last thing that fills his mind as they finally lowered you into the ground. and he doesn’t wait for it to be filled before he spins around and walks away. the next memory he remembers being a promise made. of how you told him not to do anything rash should you ever go first, not even in old age. (he thought it was cute how far ahead you thought of for the future — something he finds he needs now; a future with you.)

and that’s the thing about letting your guard down; you let them have a slight control over your decisions. because now, despite every bone in his body aching to throw himself off a cliff, he finds he can’t quite do so. why? he remembers the life in your eyes when he agrees to that promise, the absolute faith you have in him that he loves you that much to abide by your one wish for him. yet in his head a constant question beckons him, chants itself in his mind like a mantra.

i just want to join you, is that so wrong?

tags. @yokelish @gogolparadise @fyowyn-writes @animatedarchives

[i-did]

HELLO 👋 I WAS SENT HERE BY PALMETT-HOES. What are your thoughts on the foxes + tattoos?? Originally it was Neil + tattoos but if you have thoughts of the other foxes too I'd love to hear them if you want to share 🥺

Okay, so I actually might try to become a tattoo artist and love tattoo culture. I also have already about 30 tattoos, some the size of my whole hand and some the size of a quarter, a lot of mixed and matched stuff. I also always try to think of the foxes in their timeline, so 2006-2007 era, and when I think said foxes would get tattoos in their life and why. 

NEIL

First off: I personally HC Neil has keloid scarring and a lot of scarring so tattooing is hard on his skin. I have a friend who has more scars than I've ever seen on anyone else IRL before and we both love tattoos but even with him trying to prep the artist, unless they were a scar micropigmentation expert, they usually underestimated how hard it was going to be to tattoo on his skin. It's uneven and dense and doesn’t hold ink well. His non-scarred skin faired a lot better but his skin was something artists just weren't prepared for. I might get some micropigmentation on some skin grafts I got to even out the coloring and make it look more “natural” but I’m waiting to see if the pigment will settle and heal more first. 

I personally don't see Neil ever getting a tattoo, and this bums a lot of people out lmao. I think his scars are too thick and too raised and it's too cosmetic and aesthetic centric for it to be something on his radar. On his skin that isn't touched by scars I think he would want to leave as be mostly out of neutrality. I don't see Neil as the type of sentimental tattooer, I see him thinking “well if it matters to me I remember it” sort of and him wanting to keep the really deep stuff personal just for himself and even another person putting it on him is someone else there. I think if he were ever to get a tattoo, he would be like… idk it would be the kind that says “yes I got shot, stop asking” over a bullet hole scar or like that one guy whos missing his leg and above it there's a tattoo that says “one foot in the grave” that's the only type of tattoo I can see Neil doing and even still I'm not convinced he would do it. 

ANDREW

I don't ever see Andrew covering up his scars with tattoos either. I think he likes how the armbands can come on and off and be fully covered to not at all. He's not ashamed of them but he's private, and I think the tattoos could seem like he's trying to hide them when he's not-it's just nobody's business. I think if he were to get anything it would be American-traditional, it ages well, its classic, and doesn't really go out of style. Before the…. Let's say 80s, there weren't the different tattoo “styles” like there are today. It was just… tattoos in America. There was Japanese-style tattooing and then American-style tattooing, and since tattooing started curating its underground culture in the ’50s in America… those circles did not blend. They do now, but they sure as hell didn't then. So I could see Andrew with American-traditional because it's classic and I could see it appealing to him, but I could also see Russian prison tattoo style black-work something that appeals to him too. Get him some gulag tats. However if he had those, and since I currently HC him as white and with a buzzed or grown-out messy buzzed head, he would deadass look like a fuckin skinhead so... yeah lmao. Overall I don't see Andrew getting tattoos really, but if he would, American-traditional seems fitting. 

KEVIN

Okay, so Kevin out here looking like a MF SoundCloud rapper with his single face tat and nothing else going on. I know it might be OOC but since his mom is Irish and I HC his dad as Maori (even tho in the canon Wymack likely has 90s new age tribalism, which is a complicated issue but instead I choose culturally significant tattoos over the tattoo trend that was largely popularized by a movie lmao anyways-).

So I think Kevin is the only one who dives into tattoo culture and bonds over it with his dad. If he just has the chess piece, it still feels like a branding, like a mark so distinct against the rest of him, but one full sleeve of Celtic knots and symbols and the other arm full of Maori's distinct tattoos of swirls and symbols could be a cool way for him to reclaim his own skin and have it not be something he did just to cover something up, but make tattooing something connecting him to his cultures and family. 

NICKY

Nicky is the guy who got like, fierce, or pride, or something like that tattooed if he got a tattoo. I see Nicky getting a pride tattoo of some kind maybe and it being calligraphy or like if Nicky/Erik is a bear then he gets a bear paw. I could also see him getting his and Erik’s wedding date tattooed somewhere. I also don't see him as the type who didn't know how much research and shit goes into finding the artist for you, and kinda assumes you can go to just anyone and just walk in and then was like “wait what” when he couldn’t (or couldn't if he wanted to get exactly what he had in mind) so he probably got/gets tattooed by some non-homophobic apprentice, maybe even that apprentices first tattoo, and also since Nicky is Mexican and darker-skinned I doubt he thinks to put on sunscreen and the sun makes his ink lines bleed and so it doesn't age the best (it be like that). 

ALLISON

Got a trendy tramp stamp to like, really stick it to her parents. Right on her lower back I bet it's the classic 2000s swirls and a butterfly and some of those stars, idk what they're called. If she was a young 20-year-old now tho she totally would have gotten a fine line tattoo, like not a tight three, a real 1 needle tattoo. They were seen as really nice back then and “so Cali” and like I could see /maybe/ her getting it done before she's 30 but they were not that common yet and like micro-realism is so new we still kinda don't know how it's going to age at all since tattoos before it have been designed they way they have for aging. Again if she got a micro-realism/single needle tattoo tho it would be something kinda basic like a butterfly or like a lion. I swear I've seen the same google image lion tattooed on a lotta people and like IDC it's your skin. But yeah, she gets the classic 2000s swirl butterfly and stars tattoo above her crack one night, maybe after a really bad phone call with her parents and she got drunk and pissed off. Maybe someone said she couldn't take the pain. (which btw, tattoos don’t hurt as much as they make them out to be in shows and shit, they can hurt tho)

DAN

I HC Dan as very dark-skinned, she's 75% black and 25% Sioux and grew up in a very very white area when outside her home on the res. Tattoo culture is still really sexist and really colorist, and at this point in history I think if she ever did want a tattoo, she maybe asked vaguely about it and they flat out said “I don't know how to tattoo on black skin” or “it doesn't go with my art” which… are shithole excuses and I think she thought, “well fuck u too” and never thought about it much since then. 

RENEE

I HC as Renee as darker-skinned than Dan, and like the only places she could possibly get tattooed are maybe her palms, the bottoms of her feet, or her inner mouth probably. Some people genuinely are so dark that tattooing is hard, because it's based on the concept of black ink on a lighter surface, which is why scarification catches on in cultures where the skin is too dark to pigment with ink effectively. However, the idea of fuckin, 15-year-old Renee who is still Natalie with “PU$$Y” tattooed in her mouth kinda sends me. I think lil kid Renee thought she was gangster, and tbh she was, and I could see her getting some “fuck you/in your face” tattoo, especially if she was a lesbian in such a homophobic world, getting that tattooed is even better. We also know she got her back tatted in the EC with angel wings that look almost closer to dragon wings, so I imagine they show up as almost raised dark lines like scars from the untrained tattoo artist going way too deep, making it a cross between a tattoo and scarification, even if accidental. (also white ink really wasn't a thing yet and even now is still kinda hard to tell how it will heal, so that's why I don't think she gets any white ink tats)

MATT

He's a rich boy from NYC, he could really get like… whatever he wants. Once he's famous he can afford it that's for sure, but even before then he could with his allowance similar to Allison (even if on a completely different level). However, I doubt he gets anything lol. He's not particularly religious in my HC and doesn't have the same sense of being lost like I feel Kevin does with his own parents (I mean Kevin was raised like an orphan, kinda so it makes sense). I need to develop Matt’s background further on what it means to him personally to be a Filipino-American. I have several ideas about how his parents met in the Philippines and then came here but I would need to flesh out locations and then local cultures and then his parents said opinions on tattoos and then how matt would react to said opinions. I could see him possibly getting something for dan or his kids tattooed on. Which really makes me want to have him get his first kid's name tattooed really big or intricate somewhere like on his chest over his heart and then his kid comes out as trans and he's like “...fuck” lmao and gets it removed maybe and then redone or something. I see him viewing tattoos are personal and symbolic, and if he would get something it would probably be family-oriented, possibly Dan's portrait or like his baby's footprint which I've seen before. 

AARON & SETH

Stick and pokes were not nearly as common then as they are now, and I feel like people kinda have to remember how taboo tattooing was then and still is now in a lot of cultures. My family is Not happy lmaoo. But it is what it is. Stick and Pokes were not a thing bored white middle-class teens did like I see them doing now. It was seen as super sketchy and I know someone who was 16 getting tattooed in a garage by someone who was both drunk and just out of prison for the first time, and that was seen as sketchy as stick and pokes at the time. I could imagine either Seth or Aaron having a failed and fucked up stick and poke tattoo, and out of the two of them, Seth seems like the drunk tat guy. Maybe once he got drunk and mad as fuck after Allison and him broke up and she said he didn't seem serious enough so he got her name drunkenly tattooed on his arm or something and then she was even more pissed because it was spelled wrong “YOU FORGOT THE SECOND L OMFG SETH.” (I can also imagine his future girlfriends don't love it lmao). I also love the idea of Seth just having Marvin the Martian or the Tasmanian Devil tattooed on his ass.

Anyways sorry for the lack of pictures but I didn't want to do that... so I didn't. I didn't go into niche tattoo culture and history like I was expecting myself to but this also got fuckin long. Might not be what you were hoping for at all but it is my current opinion on the foxes and tattoos. (This is also surprisingly free of my own personal aesthetic opinions on tattoos and that I'm kinda proud of ngl, since my preference is none of these, but also I grew up in a very different tattoo time than them)

[embidedbythesand]

how nature points out the folly of man (fanfic)

gvk spoilers!!! you have been warned!!!!

AN - After being diappointed by Ren's lack of character development, I decided to take matters into my own hands and at the very least gave one of the most important characters of the Monsterverse's angsty son a redemption ark. (To give sum credit where it's due this is partially inspired by 'Abraxas' (if u havent read that yet read it it's *chefs kiss*)

(Constructive criticism is always appreciated)

fanfic availiable on ffn and ao3 (when ig et an account jgjehgaeg)

Summary: For the first time in five years, Ren Serizawa was almost glad his father was dead.

We knew the world would not be the same. A few people laughed, a few people cried. Most people were silent. I remembered the line from the Hindu scripture, the Bhagavad-Gita; Vishnu is trying to persuade the Prince that he should do his duty, and to impress him, takes on his multi-armed form and says, 'Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.'

-

He never meant for things to end up this way.

He just wanted peace.

All Ren Serizawa could think as he trudged his way up the stairs of Castle Bravo up to the flight deck was how tired he was. Yet, another sleepless night brings him back up to his best hiding spot, away from all the lights and noises and everyone and everything reminding him of what he did, what it led to.

It led to over four thousand dead.

Simmons ignored his pleas to at least test the Mecha with the energy they extracted. The man was blinded by his own fantasy of humanity reigning the earth once again to see the entity they had awoken, and Ren had been too blinded by grief to see that Walter was merely using him for his own gain, and wasn’t afraid to put him or his own daughter in harm’s way to get what he wanted.

The last thing he remembered before waking up confined to a bed in the Argo with a throbbing headache is being paralyzed by a force beyond comprehension in Monster Zero’s skull. The distorted computer’s warning drained out by the ever growing hum. And then the hum began to cackle.

Then nothing.

They said it was a miracle he was able to walk, talk or think, moreso that he was even alive.

Ren disagrees. He sees it as a curse.

The breeze greeted him immediately as he opened the door to the deck. He inhaled, tasting the salty air and exhaled, letting go of all the tension in his muscles as he did so. The night was silent minus the waves crashing below. He tried to focus on the sound as he walked towards the railing, trying to drown out the flashbacks of the god forsaken sinister voice that overflowed his brain in that machine, tormenting him, taunting him. Almost as if saying, “Now look what you’ve done little one. You awoke a force your pathetic little mind cannot even begin to conceive. You never learn. And now you will feel my rage until you can feel no more. I’ll show you. I’ll show all of you.”

As he lights a cigarette with shaky hands, Ren thinks, for the first time in five years, he was almost glad his father had died.

Blowing the smoke into the air and watching it until it diminished into nothing, he wonders what he would say to him, if anything at all. Would he even be able to even look at him? Perhaps his miraculous survival was at the thanks of him, his way of punishing him for his deadly error. He’d rebelled against his upbringing to respect the course of nature, never to fight against it. He let himself be manipulated into playing God only to become the Devil’s advocate, and he was now living in his own personal hell.

Because living with the heavy burden of his mistake was a punishment worse than death.

He’s so lost in his own head that he doesn’t even see the blue glow in the sea below beckoning closer and closer until he spots familiar dorsal fins breaking through the surface. He tumbles back and collapses to the floor, dropping his pack in the meantime, staring up in shock and amazement as the king of the monsters rises before him, staring directly back at him.

The titan his father died for. The titan he nearly killed himself trying to destroy.

Gojira.

The king looks down at him with curiosity, leaning closer with a deep bellowing rumble, close enough that he could have named the colors in his irises had it not been so dark. He huffs, the hot wind so forceful, it nearly pushes him back down again. Gojira lets a rumble escape his throat, as if he was saying, “I know you.”

Ren slowly gets back onto his feet and takes a step back, trying to control his breathing. The titan continued to stare him down inquisitively almost looking like he was trying to pinpoint where he had seen him before. Every alarm in Ren’s head rang at him to run, to say something, to do something, but he’s frozen. Whether it was from fear or awe, he’s not quite sure.

He wonders if this was how his father felt when he entered his chamber.

A growl brings him back to his majesty’s full attention, and his blood went cold.

This is it. Gojira recognizes him. He knows what he’s done and how he tried to destroy him and now he’s here to get his revenge. He braces himself and cowers down, waiting for the king to finish him and put him out of his misery. He continues to wait for the end to come, but it never came.

He just stood there, now with a mischievous look in his eyes. Ren’s blood begins to boil.

<“You BASTARD!”> he shouts in Japanese, so forceful that even Gojira looks taken aback.

<“How dare you torment me after everything! Who do you think you are?! You think you can just show yourself whenever you like, come and go as you please?! Take whatever and do whatever your heart desires and expect us to rejoice in your grace and sing kumbaya?!”> Ren stops to regain his breath, his vision beginning to blur, tears beginning to fall. He squeezes his eye shut as tight as he could, refusing to let the king see him begin to finally break after years of keeping his composure. <”My father gave you his life to you and what do you do? NOTHING! You don’t even blink! You have no remorse! He saw you as a God and valued you more than anything and you go on as if nothing happened! You took everything from me!”>

<”Then you come and taunt me! To show me how much of a coward my father’s pathetic excuse of a son is! You don’t think I know this already?! IknowIknowIknow!>”

He’s screaming through sobs now. He doesn’t care.

Looking up to the sky he shouts angrily at his father, <“Look what you’ve DONE! Look what your choice led to! Here I am breaking down to a giant ancient radioactive lizard,”> he dramatically motions his hands towards the beast while shouting to the stars, <”because you left me here! You left me behind! And now I’ve ruined everything! Is this your way of punishing me?! Is this what you want?!?!”> He hoped he could hear him.

Ren chokes and gasps for air and screams with all of his might before collapsing down onto his knees, pounding his fists onto the hard pavement like a child not getting his way, not even noticing that Gojira had moved closer to him until he falls and lands on his snout. He continues to slam his fists with his body onto him, before residing and burying his eyes into the heels of his palms, crying, <”Why did it have to be you?”> into them.

“<Why did you have to go?>”

He sobs for several more minutes, now shouting, <”I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.”> into his hands over and over until he has no more tears left to cry. Once he finally regains his breath, he shakily stands up and pats his pockets for his cigarettes again. When he doesn’t feel them in there, he looks around and doesn’t see them. Assuming they fell into the ocean during his tantrum, he sighs defeated.

Gojira rumbles to remind him he’s still there. Ren looks up at him in his eyes again. This time however, he sees the strangest thing. Recognition. Compassion, even.

After a moment, He slowly takes a step forward, and reaches his hand out to rest on his face. (Ren doesn’t have to wonder if his father did the same, he knows.)

“Sorry for hitting you.” he says. (It roughly translated to, "I'm sorry I tried to replace you. For betraying him, betraying you. I'm sorry for all of it, for evrything." and everything his throat was too sore to speak outloud)

Gojira huffs in reply.

(That roughly translated to, “I Forgive You.” he wasn't referring to the poke on snout)

Ren pulls his hand away and Gojira pulls back as well, they share one final look before the titan turns and dives back into the ocean, splashing Ren in the process and disappears below the waves.

Ren sleeps that night, a lifetime’s worth of wounds finally beginning to heal.

-

[starlightsearches]

Hux Fluff Alphabet

As promised, here is the fluff alphabet for General Hux! I said I would work on this when things were less crazy for me, but that was a huge lie, lol. I had a great time finishing up the rest of these prompts, and I hope you guys have a great time reading them. Enjoy!

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Hux is a sucker for a nice smile. It’s one of the things he first noticed about you—he wasn’t used to seeing anyone smile around him. He catches himself staring at you from across the bridge, your lips quirking up at the corners whenever you notice, and it still makes his heart stop. Every. Single. Time.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Not actively. Neither of your lifestyles are very conducive to a child. He doesn’t mind children though, and sometimes—on the rare occasion that he lets his mind wander—he wonders what it would be like to raise a child of his own.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Hux rarely initiates physical contact with you—it’s just not something he’s really comfortable with. However, he will give non-verbal queues, little changes in his position or demeanor to let you know that he wants attention.

If you’re sitting together on the couch or laying next to each other in bed, he’ll shift slightly, open up space so that you can move in closer. His favorite position for cuddling is when you lay your head on his chest and he’ll wrap an arm around your waist. He likes to feel you so solidly against him—it helps remind him that you’re real, that you’re there, that you love him.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Hux doesn’t have much time for dates, so they’re few and far between. When he gets the chance, he likes to take you planet-side—for fine dining, shows, whatever you’d like. He just wants to spoil you, because you deserve it 🥰

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

For Hux, you are his serenity. Whenever you’re with him, all the worry, all the panic, it stops. Being with you is like the first breath of air after diving in deep and turbulent waters.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Any relationship with Hux moves slowly. He wouldn’t want to be too forward, and this is the first time he’s been with someone this way. It’s the little things that clue him in to how he really feels about you—like how, no matter how many times it’s happened, his heart still stutters every time you kiss him, how happy you are to see his rare smiles, how understanding you are of his needs.

The first time you tell him you love him, he’s gripped with anxiety. He’s only heard those words one, maybe two times in his life, and he’s never said them himself.

You seem to understand what he’s feeling, even in his silence, nuzzling your head closer to his chest and whispering the words, “it’s okay if you can’t say it yet—I don’t mind waiting,” and he wants to cry, can’t process how it feels to be known by you. He tells you he loves you, then and there. He thinks he always has.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

YES! Yes, yes, yes a million times yes, especially at the beginning of your relationship. Hux treats you like you’re made of glass, or smoke, like if he’s not careful you might disappear. His kisses are slow and sensual, his touches are feather-light. Later on, he’s a little less nervous about it. He just can’t stand the idea of hurting you, on accident or not. 

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Hux holds your hands with purpose. He’s almost always working, so when he takes time to appreciate that little bit of intimacy, it’s all he lets himself focus on. He’ll hold both of your hands in his, pulling them close to his chest to shrink the space between you so he can stare into your eyes, occasionally brushing gentle kisses along your knuckles.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

Hux appreciates hard work. The first time he truly noticed you, it was because he recognized your drive and determination, your hunger for success. Later he comes to appreciate all your other wonderful qualities, but it’s your loyalty that stays with him whenever he’s gripped with fear—the unwelcome thoughts that some times intrude, thoughts that you might leave him.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Short answer: yes. Longer answer: All. The. Time. He just has such a hard time believing that you like him. And he has to believe that everyone wants you—after all, why wouldn’t they?

He gets a little mopey when he thinks you might have feelings for someone else, a little standoffish, and he needs a lot of reassurance. Luckily, you’re more than happy to show him that he’s the only one for you 😘

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

Hux’s kisses always start slow. He’ll cup his hand around your neck, hold you close, admiring you for a moment before he presses his lips to yours softly.

He always begins gently, but once he’s started, it’s hard for him to stop. Sometimes you’ll find yourself pulling away from him with no way to tell how much time has passed, his hair ruffed up and falling into his face and your uniform in disarray from his wandering hands.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

You, probably. Hux isn’t very good at expressing how he feels, and more likely than not, he thinks the risk is too great unless he’s absolutely certain that you feel the same.

Your palms are sweating when it happens, your hands clammy from being in such close proximity with him again. Just the two of you.

He’s babbling on about some plans or to-do list and your heart hurts, a physical, blinding pain because you’ve wanted him for so long and now you’re so close.

He stops mid-sentence when you place your hand over his, and the look you give him speaks volumes, speaks oceans but he still can’t help but feel surprised when you lean over and press a tentative kiss to the side of his mouth.

He’s silent in the moments after, a hard set to his brow and you’re on fire with embarrassment. You turn to go, ready to run as far as you can, knowing that there’s no place far enough away to escape your shame. You’re out of your chair before he takes you by the hand, pulls you gently to your seat and then whispers, “please, do that again.”

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

The first time you shared a bed together. He can’t remember ever sleeping so well as he did that first night.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Hux absolutely spoils, but he can be shy about it. You’ll find little gifts and trinkets waiting for you when you go to visit him in his quarters, and he’ll look away as you open them, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye to catch your soft smile. He’ll blush and stammer—talking about how he saw it and thought of you, how he can pick out something else if you don’t like it. He only goes silent once you press a soft kiss to his unsuspecting lips, whispering about how much you love your gift.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

I would say calming colors, like blues or greens or maybe even yellow on certain days. Anything that reminds him of living things, and life beyond the Finalizer.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

I think if he were really close to someone, he would use some pretty classic terms of endearment, like love, or darling. He prefers it when his SO calls him by name—he’s heard it so rarely in his life, and you say it with so much love that he can scarcely believe it, but I do think calling him general or sir in a playful tone is an easy way to get him going 😬

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

Hux loves to steam and press his own uniforms. It’s calming for him, and allows him to start his day with a little bit of order. He’ll put them on while they’re still warm, enjoying the smell of soap and the lingering heat.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

He doesn’t spend that much time planet-side, but rainy days are very contemplative for Hux. They remind him a lot of his childhood, and he’ll find himself staring out the window, lost in thought. He appreciates it when you’re there for him, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him away from those reminders of his past and back into the present with a soft hug and a cup of tea.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Hux doesn’t have a lot of time to feel sad, and he’s gotten really good at burying his emotions after everything that he’s been through.

Sometimes, though, those feelings bubble to the surface without warning. When he needs comfort, he’ll go and find Millie for a quick, soothing snuggle. If he can’t go all the way back to his quarters, he’ll replay memories of her as a kitten over in his mind.

If you’re feeling down, Hux will make sure that he’s there for you. He’s a problem-solver, he likes to fix things, but if you ask him to just listen, he’ll do it. He’ll let you rest your head on his shoulder as he sits silently and your tears will drip down into the fabric of his uniform and it just feels good to be with him. You feel lighter when you’re together.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Hux tends to think out loud—especially when he’s in a place where he feels safe. You first notice him mumbling under his breath early on in your relationship, when you’re working together late at night, whispers about tasks he has to finish or reminders for himself. As time goes on, he’ll speak of more personal things—his wants for the future, little things that happened to him during the day that he thinks you might find funny.

He’s a very good listener, though. If you need to vent on a bad day or if there’s something you’re really excited about, he’ll be with you, all of his attention focused on whatever it is you have to say. He doesn’t speak much during these conversations, but you cherish them. It’s one of the ways he shows you that he cares.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Anything that takes his mind off work. Hux likes tasks that he can do without much thought, like laundry or washing dishes. If he’s feeling really stressed, sometimes he’ll draw a bath and ask you to join him, the heat of the water seeping into his aching muscles, the gentle trace of your fingers reminding him that, even with all the opposition in his life, there’s someone on his side.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

Hux likes to let his actions speak for himself. He’s spent so much time surrounded by people who have never believed in his abilities, and showing off feels pathetic in that frame of mind. That being said, he is proud of his intellect and his achievements. He’s worked very hard to earn the title he possesses, and he knows that he’s smarter than most of the people he’s surrounded by.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

This man loves to plan. He’s not about to ask such an important question just anywhere, and he’s certainly not going to do it on the Finalizer. He does his research—looks for a planet that’s beautiful, safe, and private.

He writes out the perfect words, recites them to himself over and over again in the weeks before (whether or not he remembers them in the moment is an entirely different story).

You say yes, of course. He could have asked you anywhere, at anytime, without any planning. You just want to be with him.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

I don’t think Hux listens to a lot of music—he finds it distracting when he’s trying to work, and he’s almost always trying to work. That being said, here are some songs that remind me of him:

Work Song by Hozier

Gun Song by The Lumineers

Shrike by Hozier

False God by Taylor Swift

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Before he met you, Hux was sure that he’d never get married. He’d tell Phasma that he didn’t have time for an SO, that a relationship would be a liability, that he was married to the Order, and a million other reasons he didn’t want it.

Once your together, though, he thinks about it all the time. You’ll be sitting at your station, or in his quarters sipping caff in the mornings, or you’ll reach for his hand late at night while you’re both working, and suddenly he’s overcome with the feeling that he wants to be like this forever. He needs you to be his in every way imaginable. And once he starts thinking about it, he doesn’t stop.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

I think Millicent is the only pet he needs!