#its so hot i just want 2 take off this stupid mask & breathe

[doodlboy]

I had to call off work again,my fever spiked & I feel like shit

[lovifie]

Hormones Pt.3

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Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

“What?!”

“It's me, can I come in, love?”

“What do you want, Ghost?” You ask with your face buried on the pillow.

The door opens, just long enough for him to enter and then he closes it behind him, locking it. You turn your head, a questioning look on your face, and he raises his hands to prove innocence.

“It's just to keep Johnny away.” He says, sitting down on the bed behind you and pulling your legs over his lap. “I wanted to apologise”

That gets you interested, because the man may be many things, but he is prideful and doesn't apologise too often.

“Why?” You ask, propping yourself up on your elbows and looking back at him.

“For being an asshole, and talking to you as badly as I did.” He admits, his warm hand engulfing your calf caressing it with his thumb. “It had never happened to me before, you know? Not being able to say what I meant to say, and just saying something stupid instead.”

You think for a moment, about risking it with a stupid question, but it's not like you have anything to lose and your brain is still too focused on thinking about his crotch before he covered with the pillow.

“It sounds like you have a crush on my, Ghost.” You try softly, looking at his eyes.

“Feels like it, too.” He says without breaking the eye contact. You are a bit surprised by his straightforward approach, not hiding behind words.

His hand travels up your thigh when you turn around, sitting up to face him; legs still over his lap and his hand on the side of your leg. You look up to him, waiting for him to say that he is joking; but he doesn't.

Still, inside of your head, there is this voice that reminds you that this is the same person who has treated you like garbage, that he is your superior and that until mere minutes ago he has never shown any kind of interest in you. 

It is a nice thing your brain tells you these things, but it's not like you are going to take them into account; not when you can feel the heat radiating from Ghost’s boner against your leg, feeling it twitch when he sees you looking at it.

“I saw the way you were looking at me this morning, love.” He says, making you peel your eyes away from his crotch and up to his eyes, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “It is not nice for a soldier to have her mind occupied with thoughts when they are working, you know?”

“Is it not?” You ask, clearly reading his intentions, moving to sit yourself on top of his lap. 

“Yeah… thinking about fucking your CO, sergeant.” He says, griping your hips and starting to grind you against his crotch, slowly and without real strength, letting you get away if you would want. You don’t. “I could get you in trouble, you know?”

“I don't want to get in trouble.” You mutter, unable to speak more loudly, as you feel his hardening dick rub against you, annoyed with the clothes in between. 

“Of course you don't, you are a good girl, right?” He asks lifting his mask, up to his nose so his mouth is exposed. You lean in, suddenly desperate to kiss him, only for his hand to grab your jaw forcing you to look up as his mouth finds its way to your neck. “Speak up, sergeant.”

You struggle to do so when he starts to kiss your neck, feeling like lava dripping down your skin with how hot his breath is. “Yes, sir.” You respond breathlessly, feeling him smile against your skin satisfied with your answer.

“Are you going to be a good girl for your lieutenant and let me have a taste, love?” He whispers against your neck, making you whine as an answer, earning yourself a hard slap on your asscheek. “I don't like to repeat myself, sergeant. Speak up when I ask you something.”

“Yes, sir.” You respond quickly, still whining, too turned on to bother about embarrassment, you’ll care about that tomorrow morning.

Ghost takes the hem of your shirt, pulling it up your head in a smooth motion; he doesn't bother to take off your bra, simply slips your arms out of it and pushes it down which pushes your boobs up and out just for him. He doesn’t waste time before biting the side of your boob, making you groan at the sting before he licks over it. 

You move your hand up to the back of his head, wrong move because he quickly grabs both your arms moving them behind your back holding them in place and causing you to arch your back, pushing your chest more against his face. He hums satisfied with the outcome and starts to suck your nipples into his mouth nibbling on it softly. 

You moan pulling your head back, letting him guide your hips with his other hand; helping you grind against his growing erection. Ghost’s mouth travels from one boob to the other, leaving a wet trail of spit in the process across your chest.

There is hunger in the way he keeps eating you, you can feel him bite down on the skin of your chest; most of them are soft just satisfying the need to feel you, but there are a couple of them that you are sure will leave a mark on your skin. Not that you mind, with the way you can feel your hips stutter each time he does it, clenching around nothing and making you grow desperate for more.

“Ghost… please” You moan, looking down at him and you see his pupils dilate when he makes eye contact with you. Something about the image of you looking down at him, while he feels you in his mouth truly makes him lose the little bit of restraint he had. 

He let go of your arms, moving instead to undo your belt and your trousers. He moves his face up to your neck again, before he whispers urging you to take off your trousers. “I want you to sit on my face, love. I want to feel you suffocate me. Fuck my face, please sweet girl.” He groans, grinding up hard against your cunt making you moan, just for him to lift you up enough to pull your trousers down, getting stuck on your ankles because of your shoes. 

He smirks, an idea crossing his mind and he looks at you with mischievousness that makes you shudder. He notices you try to undo your laces to take off your shoe and he quickly slaps your hand making you look at him with a confused expression. He moves so he can lay down on your bed and pulls you with him; you try to complain that you need to take off your trousers or you will choke him and it is then that you realize his plan. 

With you kneeling over his face, he raises his head and lays it back over your scrunched-up trousers on your ankles. His weight causes your ankles to pull closer together, which makes your knees pull apart and your hips to go lower. You realize then that you are stuck, unable to move your legs apart or your hips up without falling back. 

Ghost smiles when he notices you realize and pulls his hands up to rip apart your panties making you gasp at the sudden movement, feeling lightheaded with the way he rips the fabric as if it was a piece of paper. 

He doesn't let you complain any further, too desperate to launch himself at your glistering cunt. He groans at the same time you moan when he finally gets a taste of your arousal on his tongue, automatically getting addicted to your taste only urging him to eat you harder.

His hand grab your thigh at each side of his head as if you could actually move away from his face. You grab the headboard, needing to grab something for some kind of support. He has barely started to move his tongue and your legs are already shaking with the desperate way he is eating you out. 

You feel his tongue move flat from your leaking hole up to clit, the tip of his tongue catching on your hood and giving it a flick which makes your legs twitch against his head making him groan satisfied with your reaction only for him to repeat the movement again and again. 

Ghost starts to get too pussy drunk to really think about what he is doing, only caring about the taste of your fluids in contrast with the taste of your skin; and it makes you grow frustrated with the lack of attention where you really want it. This makes you need to take matters into your own hands, and you move your hand down to grab his mask hard enough that you know you are grabbing his hair under it as well. 

He looks up to you, offended you would dare to bother him when he is having the feast of his life; but the look on your face quickly shuts him up before he can say anything. “I thought you wanted me to fuck your face, sir. Stick your tongue out.” Your order, his dick twitches behind you at the dictational tone and he immediately follows your order. 

You grin down at him, satisfied with the way his body betrays him; and you grab his mask and hair harder pushing his head slightly back before you grin down on his mouth moaning throwing your head back.

You move back and forward, delighted with the way his nose catches your clit with each thrust and the way his tongue twitches with each grunt and moan that exits his throat. You turn your head to look at his crotch and chuckle when you see the way his boner is being constricted with his trousers. 

You pity him and undo his belt, getting your hand inside his trousers and grabbing his cock with only the fabric of his boxers in between his and your skin, the wet spot of precum doesn't go unnoticed. “Are you going to fuck me nicely with this, Ghostie?”

You feel him nod against your fold which makes you moan softly, but you want to give him a taste of his game and you grab hard his dick. “Speak up, leiutenant.”

He whines against your cunt, and you already know how the rest of the night is about to go. “Yes, fuck, yes, love. I’m going to fuck you so fucking nice you are not going to want to be with anyone else. I promise, love.” 

You chuckle at the desperation of his voice, and go back to grinding his face leaving his dick unnatended and leaking precum, making the wet spot on his underwear only grow wider. You grab his hand from your leg and move it behind you, sticking two fingers up and sinking yourself on them. 

Ghost feels like a human dildo with the way you are fucking his hand and mouth with no remorse for his needs, and he fucking loves it. The only thing keeping him from wishing you would last forever being the feeling of his dick about to burst. 

You keep a hand on his head, your other hand moving to grab his wrist to keep his hand just where you need it. And it doesn't take you long to cum all over his mouth, clenching tight on his fingers. He moans, almost as if he was the one who just finished, and you look down on him; the sight criminal.

You push yourself up, leaning forward, and taking his fingers out of your cunt; your arousal still dripping from them. He slips from under you, sitting on the floor and looking back at you as you finally take off your shoes and the rest of your clothes. Once naked and sitting on the bed you look at him, chuckling softly as you extend your hand to him. “Give me your belt, Ghost.”

He frowns for a second, but obeys, taking it off from the belt loops of his trousers. You take it from his hand and get closer to him putting it around his neck, buckling it at the front. You are not sure of the safety of the make-do collar, and the only reason why you do it is because the man kneeling in front of you could rip it to threads without breaking a sweat; the belt only works as a physical form of the psychological effect you have found to have over Ghost.

You lay your feet over his crotch, making him grunt when you press down; he grabs your leg unconsciously grinding against your feet making you smile. “Tell me, Ghostie. Are you going to fuck me nicely or am I going to do all the work again?” You ask, you know it is not fair, you were the one that chose to do all the work of fucking his face. Still, the way he whines when he feels the ball of your feet press harder makes it worth it. “Yes! Yes, I will. I’ll fuck you nicely, love. I will.” He moans making you groan, going on a little power trip yourself. 

You let the belt rest down his chest, taking notice just now that he is still completely naked; just his belt out of place and it only turns you on more. You turn around, getting on your knees and hands, and raise one of your hands back to him. 

He takes your hand in his, making you frown and slap his hand away. “The belt, Ghost.” He looks down when he sees you pointing at his chest as if he just realised you had collared him. He leans forward, letting the end on the belt on your hand; you twist it around your wrist tugging at it and making him lean more, kneeling behind you on the bed. His hips collide with yours making the two of you moan softly and you look at him only to whisper. “Take your dick out and fuck me until I forgive you for being such an asshole to me, lieutenant.” 

“Yes, my love” He whispers back, pulling down his trousers and underwear, only to take his thick veiny dick out, so heavy it can’t stand up; forcing him to fist it to align it with your cunt. When his tip catches with your hole, his hips pushing it the slightest, you lay your head on the mattress, arching your back and tugging the belt over your head to urge him forward getting deeper.

Ghost grunts on your ear as he does, pushing his hips forward slowly, stretching you slowly; his two fingers that you previously fucked being far from enough to stretch your cunt to the girth of his dick. 

It leaves you with your mouth open, the air of your lungs being pushed out of you as you feel his dick up to your stomach when he finally bottoms out. The two of you stay still for a second, you needing it to get used to the stretch and Ghost needing it to not cum at the feeling of your wet, warm pussy clenching on him like a vice.

He peppers your shoulder and the back of your head between moans, asking for some kind of feedback to know he can keep moving; wanting to let you get used but desperate to keep moving. You give him a slight tug of the belt, already lacking strength and moan through gritted teeth when you feel him pull back slowly and shove it back inside just as slowly.

His arms go around your middle, hugging you from the back, the weight of him on your back pushing your face harder against the mattress but loving the crushing weight of his body against you as he starts to pick up his pace. The way his dick keeps hitting against your cervix should be painful if it wasn't because of the way he keeps rubbing that spot inside of your cunt that makes your eyes roll back.

You feel him plant his feet down on the mattress, pulling his chest back; the belt slipping out of your hand feeling too limp to grab it harder. It gives Ghost the room to stand behind you, grabbing your hips to anchor himself to you, and the moment he starts to actually thrust into you, you know you are done for. He quickly finds your soft spot, hitting it not stop with the tip of his dick making your toes curl and his heavy balls begging for a release hitting your clit with each thrust. 

Your second orgasm of the night feels like hanging from a rope and it suddenly snapping, you moan his name like a whore, your cunt clenching down so hard it pushes him out as you gush over his lap. Your hips convulsing, unable to remain still because of the force of the orgasm.

Simon groans pulling back to see your pussy clench around nothing as you cum, not able to say anything with the way all his blood is on his dick, his brain unable to form a whole thought further away than to get back inside your warm cavern.

He turns you around, leaving you lying on your back as you look at him astonished. He grabs your ankles, pushing them down beside your head bending you in half at the same time he gets his dick back inside of you moaning and making you whine at the new angle he is hitting. 

“Grab the belt, love.” He reminds you, to fuck out to feel cocky about you forgetting it. You quickly grab the belt hanging loosely around his neck, giving it a tug pushing him forward and kissing him messily. Your first kiss with Ghost and you have already come twice and are close to a third time. 

Ghost moans against your mouth, teeth clashing against each other with the force he leans forward. You struggle to keep kissing him with the way he is fucking you, thrusting like an animal, hitting deeper than anybody else ever has, clutching the belt more for your own support than to tug at him. 

You tug it down, making him push his face against your neck and leaving your ankles resting over his broad shoulders. You feel him suck the skin of your neck, knowing perfectly fine that he is going to leave a mark and it only fuels you to scratch at his back, making sure you leave the same marks back. 

His thrust starts to grow sloppier and his moans whinier. You pull your hand down, touching your clit to cum before he finishes it, and he takes it like an insult that gives him a new run of energy, enough to start to thrust hard and deep again, his thumb replacing your hand in playing with your clit. 

You throw your head back when you finish for a third time in the time and Ghost bites down on your leg on his shoulder, moaning against it when he finally spills over inside of you making you shudder. 

The two of you stay still for a minute, getting your breath back from the strain. Your legs start to cramp and you lightly tap his shoulder for him to get up. He does, groaning when he pulls out and after another second he goes to the bathroom. He comes back with a damp towel to clean you up quickly and throws it on the floor, lying down and pulling you against his chest as he does.

“Lovie?”

“Hm?”

“If this is the outcome of being a dickhead to you… I take back the apology.”

You slap his chest chuckling. You'll think about the feelings and emotional part of today's acts tomorrow, right now, you are too exhausted to think. And Ghost agrees, because before you can even fall asleep you hear him softly snore beside you, hugging you tightly as he sleeps.

The next morning, when the whole team is having breakfast, there is this awkward silence around everyone. Everybody knows Ghost and you fucked last night, both because your room is between Price's and Soap's but also because of the love bites on your neck and belt mark on his.

Fraternization is not something the military looks forward to, but the both of you are adults and you are not technically a member of the team. So Price can't say anything about it. Soap, on the other hand, always has something to say.

“So… I didn't know you had condoms on your room, bonnie. I would have stolen some if I knew you did.”

“I don't have condoms in my room, Soap.” You sigh.

“So, the Lt came prepared yesterday to my room. That's positivity, sir.” He jokes.

“Johnny, cut it out.” Ghost simply says.

Soap looks between the two of you before a grin appears on his face. 

“Wait… wait, wait, wait. You didn't hit it raw, right?” Gaz asks, and when neither of you responds he knows; laughing harder.

“So you are telling me, that you did it raw, with you ovulating and with you being pent up for the last month.” Soap asks, laughing as he does.

You look up at Ghost, reality sinking in and blaming your fucking hormonal brain too horny to think about the most basic stuff.

“That's fine, guys. I always wanted a nephew… or a niece.”

[al1v3cvp1d2]

The Man Behind the mask||Ethan Landry

Summary: Once tara leaves you start to settle yourself down for a "soothing" night, before it gets interrupt. 1.4k word <3 also not proofread.

Warnings: p in v unprotected, fingering, praises, please let me know if there's more.

Just as Tara leaves the apartment you feel excitement course through your body. You grab your phone as you walk back to your bedroom. You scroll through your Spotify playlist trying to find the perfect song.

You soon pick out "Heartless" by The Weeknd. After you pick out the song you turn on your tv and put on Stab 1 . It was stupid how hot a guy could be in a mask and a stupid sexy voice.

Something about it just made you go mad. You pull out a box from under your bed. You take the lid off it and grabbed the vibrator. you felt embarrassed as you looked at it knowing where it would be going.

Your heart skipped multiple beats as Ghostface came on screen. You slowly start removing your short shorts along with your shirt. You run you hand along your thighs as you gently rub at your clit.

You let out soft moans as you add more pressure on your clit. You remove your silk panties.

fuck Ethan please you breathe out. You had known him for 2 years already and still haven't confessed.

You slowly start to insert the vibrator, grabbing the remote from the box then gently put it the ground.

You softly moan out his name as you put the vibrator on its lowest mode. You slowly thrust the vibrator in out of you. Letting out higher moans as you put the vibrator a level higher than before.

You feel yourself getting closer as you thrust the vibrator in and out. Just as you almost reach your climax you get a phone call from a random number. You heart drops deep into your stomach. You turn off your vibrator and place it on your bed. Picking up your phone you answer it.

You wince at the cold feeling of your phone against your hot body.

"hello y/n" you feel your inside twist as you hear you name said. You knew how wrong it was to love every moment the man was talking to you.

"What the fuck do you want" you say breathless. Your heart is still running a mile as you speak.

"I think you already know what I want." Its the last word that truly freaks you out. You didn't even have a clue what he could want.

"and what is that mr ghost face." You say standing up from your bed to lock the door, just in case. You slowly bend down to check under the bed to see if he was there.

''You' You hear the voice from the phone and right behind you.

just as he said the word you get yanked up from the floor. You let out a scream just as he covers your mouth. Still even then something about him getting you like this made you feel so hot inside.

"Isn't this what you want ghost face to be here and fuck you." he saids it right next to your ear as he removes the hand from your mouth down to your chest groping it.

You let out a low moan as he massages your boobs.

"please" you whine out.

"Please what y/n" he turned off the voice changer so you could hear his voice. God something about it you knew you heard the voice before but you couldn't tell who.

'please fuck me mr ghost face.' Your face was beat red as you said this. Everything inside of you was telling you to run and scream but somewhere deep inside of you wanted this to happen.

You hear him mutter fuck as you start grinding yourself on him. One of his hands pull away from your chest and down to your ass. You moan out as he slaps it leaving a red mark.

You can feel your silk cum soaking onto his robes as you grind harder onto them. He lets out louder groans as you do so.

"Fuck y/n why are you.. so beautiful" He breathe out, muttering praises falling right into your neck as he left dark red hickeys along with them.

You let out a low moan just as he saids that. Listening ever so carefully to other praises that come out of his mouth.

He drops his hand from your chest down to your cunt. He gently rubs at your clit as you continue to grind on his clothe cock. You turn your head around to see him. You put one of your hands on his mask and gently pull it off.

You gasp as you see who it is. Ethan Landry the man you had been crushing on since forever. You place the mask on the bed as you turn your body so you were facing him. You grab the back of his neck and pull him into a sloppily kiss.

You break away from the kiss, as you let out a loud moan as he thrust one of his fingers into you. Slowly in and out of your body, teasing you in a way you couldn't handle.

Ethan.. fuck.. please. His slow pace was killing you.

"Beg for it y/n I wanna hear you say it." his voice deep and demanding turning you on even more.

"Ethan please..ahg.. fuck me.. with your...cock." you say feeling your cheeks bright red filled with embarrassment.

He lets out a deep chuckle as he looks at your flushed face.

"Since you ask so nicely y/n of course I will" something about this dominating side if Ethan made you core do flip flops. He picks you up and gentle places you down on the edge of the bed leaving him between your thighs.

you wrap your legs around his waist as he attacks you collar bone with his stupidly sharp canines. You take in a sharp breath just as he unclips your bra and gently sucks one of your nipples, while his other hand gropes harshly at your other boob.

Your hands find purchase on his soft curly hair.

"Ethan please stop teasing me...and fuck me already." You say as you pussy aches for some form of release. His eyes lock onto yours just as he takes off the robes to reveal his toned muscles hiding under them.

"Good girl." he saids as he unbuckles his belt and throws it aside. You grab at his waist band as you pull them down to his knees.

You slowly start palming his dick through the boxers. He lets out whimpers as you start palming him faster.

You can feel his hips thrust into your hand as play with his tip.

"so needy aren't you" You say as he whines into your ear, acting like you just weren't the one begging for him.

"please y/n.. I need you" he whispers the last part next to you. You gently pull down his boxers and start to gently start to stroke rubbing your thumb against his tip. Ethan lets out low moans into you ear as you do so.

Your eyes lock with his as he slowly removes your hand and guides his cock gently right next to your entrance. Teasing you gently by rubbing his tip along your clit, making you let out low moans as he does so.

Your breath hitches as he finally thrusts inside of you. You let out a loud moan as he thrust in and out of you brutally. You wrap your legs around his waist as he rubs at your clit with his ring finger.

You can only moan out 'fuck' and groans of his name as he terrorizes your body.

Your arms wrap around his back scratching at it with you long nails. He hid his low moans and groans into your neck as he leaves marks all over your collar bone.

You tug at his hair as you reach closer to your climax. You let out higher moans as he adds more pressure down to your clit.

"Ethan im so.. close please.. holy shitt" You felt yourself clench around his cock as your heart raced faster as your core fluttered.

"cum y/n.. cum for me" he saids looking deeply into your eyes. Letting out a loud moan, you feel yourself clench around him one more time as you cum on his cock.

You feel something sticky run down your thighs as he moans out your name. you hear him mutter out I love you y/n, as he falls down onto your chest arms wrapped around you.

Your hands play with his hair as you whisper

"I love you too."

[youryanderedaddy]

Hello, do you accept order? If yes, you could make a single one shot of Yandere! Brat Spoiled, please...

What would it be like if Yandere were the son of wealthy parents who always have everything they want, when they don't always get what they like, always act like a spoiled brat (and also his parents are afraid of their son, as they have already seen what he is capable of when he gets angry)... that's where the reader comes in. She is a new student at school, a nice and kind person, so the yandere knows her and falls in love so strongly that she never felt that way in life, but the reader is always rejecting her advances for being a spoiled brat and the way he treats the people around you.

What happens next?

Title: Eat the poor

Tw: non - consensual touching, obsessive/possessive behavior, violence, low-key bullying, blackmail / coercion, reader is in university

Part 2

It had started during your very first year of college, back when you still felt motivated to go to school and meet new people. You had heard the rumors about him before ever meeting his gaze and oh, did they disappoint.

You met Gabrielle for the first time when the snowdrops bloomed and the birds returned home – in the early autumn, at night, in a small crowded room reeking of alcohol, sweat and cheap cologne which you quickly realized wasn’t his. The man smelt like the cigarettes he never got bored of and sweet caramel. He was wearing a big leather jacket and a pair of dark jeans, yet the simplicity of the outfit seemed to suit the expensive brands displayed on the clothing. In a way the student represented the typical youthful boyish beauty with his golden locks, eyes the color of the sky and frame tall and well – built. Yet his face remained motionless the whole night and his body stayed still despite the mass of bodies dancing around in rhythm. But then some poor unfortunate fool managed to bump into the male, spilling his drink all over him, and his pretty face quickly twisted into a mask of disgust and anger.

“You stupid piece of shit!” The male yelled shortly after as his fist connected with the stuttering boy’s stomach. His clear eyes were now two wild thunderstorms pouring rain and lightning over the tipsy guy who was nervously apologizing and promising to pay for the damages done. “Do you know how much this costs?” Gabrielle spat with venom and pushed the other onto the floor, bringing his black sneakers to that white shirt until there was a mark of dirt formed on the otherwise clean fabric. Everyone else in the room had stopped drinking now and all the eyes were pinned onto the two men yet no one had the courage to do anything. Your own heart was beating hard in your chest at the sudden display of unnecessary violence but you had always been a calm kid, a kind soul too scared of its own shadow to learn how to fight properly. So you had no idea what to do.

“My father can have you expelled, you know.” The blond man suddenly spoke out in a quiet eerie voice as he pressed his foot harder into the shorter boy’s stomach causing him to whimper and squirm. “Unless you are willing to beg for my forgiveness, that is.” The bully proposed with a sly smirk on his pink lips as he glared at the victim underneath. The student on the ground was clenching his eyes tight so no one could see the tears in them when he shook his head no. You finally decided you couldn’t let this inhumane scene go any further.

“Stop this madness right now!” You shouted manically, drawing all the attention to yourself as you made your way between the two men. Gabrielle immediately pinned his burning gaze on you in unhidden intrigue. “This is too cruel. He didn’t mean to bump into you. Please, leave him alone.” As much as you had wanted to curse at the spoiled rich boy there was this suffocating feeling in your lungs telling you to be careful and play the mediator. The others quickly started gasping and some were already gossiping at your reaction proving your point that the guy was indeed dangerous.

Then he looked you straight in the eyes with his deep blue ones. He chuckled softly before smacking his lips in an unpleasant way, his “tsk” sending shivers down your spine. You had fucked up. “Well, well, well… Looks like the new girl wants to play hero. How cliché.” The bully grinned as he let his gaze roam up and down your body, your cheeks turning red in return when having realized he was handsome even while doing something so vulgar. “But if you do want to help him so badly…” The golden – haired man paused for a moment pretending to be deep in thought. “Maybe we could have a little deal, bunny.” He moved his leg away from the sobbing boy and stepped in front of you. From this close you could feel the warmth of his skin and the sweet aroma of burnt sugar it radiated. Gabrielle tilted your chin up almost gently and whispered in your ear “Kiss me.”

You tried to break free from the uncomfortable pose but the student simply squeezed your jaw line harder, his eyes cold and calculating, following your every move. You mind went blank and foggy at the forced intimacy and you couldn’t think straight with his breath on your neck. It felt like the time had slowed down just so the sadistic snob could mess with you a little longer. You opened your mouth to voice your protests but fortunately you didn’t have to say anything because at the very same time the host of the party appeared, ready to stop the fight.

“Gabrielle, I’d have to ask you to leave.” The dark – haired junior growled enraged as he pushed the taller male away from you. You couldn’t help but smile at him in appreciation. He was the only one brave enough to help you after all. “You are ruining the party for everyone. ” The stranger continued. The blonde seemed irritated at the sudden interruptance yet it was obvious he was powerless against the owner of the house. Still he grit his teeth and signed in annoyance as he turned to face the host. “Fuck you, Jackson!” The man cursed but eventually moved towards the door, red with anger. “My father will hear about this.” He looked at you as he reached for the golden doorknob, his features softened. “See you around, bunny.”

This was the first time you met Gabrielle. You already wished it was the last.

-------------------------------------------------------

After the incident the snob seemed interested in you, blatantly so. He would eye you up in the halls like you were a shiny new toy in a claw machine and try to strike a conversation no matter how much you ignored him. The man never once apologized for what happened at the party but at least he didn’t bring it up so you counted it as a small victory. You gradually understood just how much power and money the heir had. His father owned casinos, hotels, banks and apparently even the university you two were studying in received major monthly donations by the big businessman. This explained why everyone was so scared of the blonde, especially when he did nothing but flaunt his status at the slightest inconvenience. And now he wanted you.

In your eyes the boy was just an annoying brat who lived off daddy’s hard work, there really wasn’t much to him that intrigued you. The male was handsome, pretty even, but his grades were terrible and his interests were bland and shallow, mostly involving expensive brands and grand parties. But the worst thing about him was his personality. The snob treated his friends like servants and his enemies like dirt, but you he rather saw as a challenge. Gabrielle would ask you out every time you were unlucky enough to run into him. The first time the man gave you so many roses you couldn’t even count them, the second he demanded your affection with a silver necklace in hand ready to cover your neck in his mark of ownerships. You couldn’t recall all the other gifts the blonde used to try and court you with but you remembered refusing each and every one.

“Why can’t you just give me a chance?” He exclaimed one day after you had just returned the expensive bracelet you had found in your locker. It was a dark winter night and the heir seemed irritated with you for the first time, his eyes a deep electric blue just like the sky. The man had you cornered against the wall but you were used to his pathetic attempts at intimidation. Yet today there was something different in the air around him, some small voice at the back of your head wondered whether this time he wasn’t just joking around. “Are you still angry about that little wimp I expelled, bunny?” Gabrielle asked contemptuously yet his pupils remained cold and distant. Once again he was too close for your liking, too close for you to function properly, but that was probably exactly what he wanted. You to be compliant and obedient like all the others who crawled and kneeled at the very sight of him. “Or are you sulking because I beat up Jones after he asked you out, hmm?” What? The blonde man was the one who gave Tony the black eye? But he had told you it was just a street fight… Why had your friend covered for the bully you both hated?

“Why would you do that to him?” You whispered, staring at the twisted boy in front of you. Your heart was beating fast and your blood was boiling hot in your veins but you couldn’t let him win by showing him how much his actions affected you. Gabrielle reached out and cupped your cheek gently before smirking mischievously. “He was trying to take something that belonged to me.” The heir said casually as if he was talking about the weather. His fingers were cold against your warm skin and you fought the urge to vomit right then and there. “I am not yours.” You spat out with poison and pushed his hand away from your face. Next thing you know his knee was separating your thighs, lifting your short black skirt up, his breath lingering on your neck. “S-stop.” You stuttered and tried to squirm out of his hold but the man easily caught your wrists and brought them above your head, pinning you further into the wall. He was stronger than he looked and you felt so small and helpless in that moment you could have cried if your stubbornness hadn’t prevailed.

“What don’t you like about me?” The blonde suddenly spoke out, his voice unnaturally broken and needy, bordering on a whine, crying out in desperation. You weren’t sure whether he was trying to manipulate you now or if he actually wanted you to answer so you decided to be honest anyways. “I hate the way you treat other people. I could never love someone as cruel as you.” You inhaled deeply, ready to voice all the painful thoughts you had kept inside since the beginning of the semester. “You are spoilt rotten. Metaphorically and literally.” The man was breathing sharply like a wounded animal after hearing your words and as much as you wanted to sympathize with him, you couldn’t bring yourself to after everything he had done to you and your friends. He was irredeemable. “Let me go.” You finally demanded, hoping to use him weakened emotional state to your advantage.

Instead Gabrielle clenched his teeth and squeezed down harder on your already bruised wrists causing you to whimper in dull pain. His eyes were wet but the tears had finally stopped just like his willingness to show you his vulnerable side. The man had tried being nice and sweet to you, patient, then mean and patronizing, and neither worked. So obviously it was time to become the terrifying bratty monster everyone was so keen on believed he was.

“Have you noticed how many people seem to go missing after talking to you just once?” The heir whispered in your ear as his free hand traveled down to your waist, drawing you into his hard chest. You groaned at the sudden realization that the snob was actually right, less and less guys seemed to show up to your shared lectures in the last few months, but you had always assumed they just needed a break from school. University was stressful after all. “Did you…” You started off but couldn’t find the right words. Did you force your father to expel them? Did you harm them? Maybe a part of you didn’t want to know the answer. “I did.” Gabrielle responded before you could even finish the sentence. The sly smirk you knew way too well adorned his lips and it wasn’t hard to see he had already won. “And I will keep doing it until you agree to be mine and mine alone.” The man stated confidently as he sucked the sensitive skin of your neck until you arched your back in shock, your eyes rolling up to the ceiling. “N-nhgg.” You whimpered as you felt his teeth dig into your warm flesh leaving a scarlet mark for all to see. “Come on, baby, we both know you are too good to let them suffer because of your own selfishness.” He taunted you as he left a line of small wet kisses along your exposed collarbone. You wanted to argue, to yell at him how you weren’t the crazy, selfish one, but deep down you knew it was pointless. Gabrielle had power and you had nothing to bargain with. He could have anyone yet he wanted to torment you. “Give into me. I promise I can make you happy if you let me.” The blonde uttered softly as his lips brushed against yours, almost touching them, following your reaction with his clear eyes. Your own were puffy and red from the tears but he didn’t seem to care much about your misery and discomfort. The man wished to own, not to please, but you couldn’t do anything. And of course you wouldn’t let him ruin the lives of the innocent. Of course your stupid heart was too good and human for your own good. So you closed your eyes and slowly connected your lips with him even though they tasted almost metallic, like blood and defeat.

“I knew you would come around, bunny.”

[chaotic-noceur]

with a thousand stars in the sky, why did you choose me?

pairing: Sukuna x asexual!Reader (sex-repulsed leaning)

summary: because sometimes, you just need someone else to tell you that asexuals deserve love too

warnings: hurt/comfort, discussions of sex and asexuality, mentions of sex, soft sukuna, insecurity, reader cries at some point, sex-repulsed ace centric cuz that’s the way I lean.. sorry 😓

a/n: I’m really hesitant to post this cuz I don't wanna exclude sex-positive aces cuz they’re valid too but also, there’s a maybe 2% chance that someone needs this so I guess I’m hurling this into the tumblr void and seeing what happens?

Asexuality is a subtle thing. There’s nothing in the way you hold yourself that gives away your identity. There’s nothing in the way you dress that boxes you into a stereotype. There’s nothing in your actions that immediately earns you a label — regardless of its legitimacy.

Asexuality is a subtle thing. And you experience its weight in subtle ways.

You feel it in the way media sells the appeal of sex. A subtle mockery of your unimportance. You see it in the way society instils the necessity of sex. A subtle affirmation of your inadequacy. You read it in the way that strangers declare their desires. A subtle reminder that you will never fulfil them.

Sukuna is many things — grumpy, hot tempered, even arrogant at times; but he's also observant, especially when it comes to you. He notices the tightness of your grip when you hold onto him, as if begging him to stay. He notices the sorrow in your eyes, as if conveying a silent apology. He notices all the little changes, but he says nothing. He says nothing because he doesn’t know what to do, and it’s easier to claim ignorance than admit ineptitude. He says nothing because he doesn't know where the conversation will lead, and he doesn't know what he'll do if he loses you.

So Sukuna sits, and he watches. He watches and he waits. He waits for the dam to break, for the hurricane of emotions to make landfall, and for the mask to shatter.

Thunder rumbles in the distance when the needle finally drops, piercing his heart in it's landing.

"Why did you choose me?" Your voice is muffled against his chest, but it doesn't hide the uncertainty in your tone, nor the tenseness of your shoulders. Sukuna draws patterns against your spine in an effort to calm your nerves, or his — he isn’t sure.

His brows furrow and he lifts his head slightly to look down at you, letting out a "hmm?" as he does.

You push off his chest then, gaze falling to your lap as his hand slips from your back. "It's just that... I can't give you what you wan-" you swallow the lump in your throat before repeating, "I can never give you what you need. I -" Sukuna moves to protest but you cut him off. “No, don’t try and tell me that you don’t want sex. I’m not stupid Sukuna, I know you’re not...” broken, is what you don’t say as you gesture to yourself. “But there are so many people out there who wouldn’t even think twice before agreeing to sleep with you and yet..."

As the pieces fall into place, Sukuna resists the urge to growl at your logic. He had known what being in a relationship with you meant when he had agreed to be with you — asexuality and all. He never expected anything from you that you weren't comfortable with offering and he was prepared to take care of himself whenever the need arose. He had told you as much too. But it would seem that you need a reminder that his love for you stemmed beyond a physical desire.

How should he tell you that his world gets a little brighter every time you smile at him? That his heart a little lighter every time he hears you laugh, especially when it's because of him? That the hole you'd carved into his defences get a little bigger every time you tell him you love him; and every time that you don't but your actions say it for you? How should he tell you that he doesn't think he truly knew what love meant until he fell in love with you?

Instinctively, Sukuna wants to smother the firestorm of emotions that had engulfed him. But with a look at your expression, he knows that you need something concrete right now — something you can remember, something you can replay in your mind when you need it, something you don't need to decipher.

Sukuna sighs before sitting himself upright. He takes your hand in his, holding on lightly enough that you can pull away if you wish. You do not. "Because," he begins as his other hand comes to rest under your chin, tugging your gaze up to meet his, "despite what everyone else says, love isn't always about sex. Because you love me for me, and not because of my muscles."

You huff out chuckle and Sukuna tugs on your interlocked hands to pull you a little closer, dreading the space that had formed between the pair of you. "Because," he breathes as he runs this thumb over your knuckles, "I didn't know what it felt like to be chosen until I met you. Because..." Sukuna wishes now that he was better at words, but Yuuji was always the talker. "Because you wake up everyday and love all the parts of me that I had grown to hate and remind me why they’re worth loving." Your lips pull into a shy smile then and Sukuna swipes at the tear that rolls down your cheek.

"Well, someone has to." Sukuna rolls his eyes before pulling you into his chest. He gives you a minute to settle into a comfortable position before securing his arm around your waist.

“I love you, stupid,” he mumbles as he presses a kiss to your temple, "and I'm not leaving any time soon."

pls lemme know if i made mistakes!

[district2001]

Boyfriend & Bestfriend

Seventeen AU: 14th member

Jangmi x Vernon, Jangmi x NCT Dream

Recap: Jangmi wakes up at an ungodly hour to see a boy she loves, plus her best friend.

Words: 1.2k

AN: Requests are OPEN:

This was meant to be released during Hot Sauce era, but girlie was a bit unorganised and only finished it this week. Also I’ve got my life together so expect weekly oneshots :)

Also also appreciate the numerous NCT song references, and BOYFRIEND REVEAL

Jangmi’s Masterlist

Jangmi slowly closed her shared bedroom door before quietly tip-toeing down the corridor. Her phones torch being used as a guide to not trip over the random jumble of shoes, Lego kits and packages cluttering the hallway.

She turned on the living room light, trying to make as little noise as possible.

“Kim Jangmi”

Her phone dropped from her grasp, and she winced as it hit the hard marble floor.

“What the fuck Vernon” Jangmi whisper shouted, as she bent down to pick up her phone and check for scratches.

Vernon leaned over the kitchen counter, to blow out the candle. He raised his eyebrows as he checked out her outfit. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but that jumper looks familiar?”

Jangmi smirked, as she grabbed a stray black bucket hat which was placed on the tv stand. “Leave it in the bathroom- and it’s mine.” She paused. “Should I be concerned that you’re eating in the dark?”

“Should I be concerned that you’re leaving the dorm at 4:32 in the morning, looking like you’re gonna rob a bank.” Vernon asked, munching on his corn flakes. “Also, I have the candle light. Better for the planet and our wallets”

She laughed sarcastically as she strutted to the kitchen and filled her water bottle with hot water. “What gave it away? The black-on-black outfit or the massive sunnies which cover half my face.”

“I’d rather you sneak out to see your boyfriend, and not that. I don’t think I make enough to bail you out.”

Jangmi reached over and grabbed a spoonful of cereal. “Guess you need to produce more songs then.”

Vernon grabbed his spoon back before handing over one of the reusable masks which were on the counter. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Yeah I know. I know.” Jangmi sighed, putting her mask on. “Go to bed soon. Unless you’re planning on seeing sunrise.”

Vernon muttered something under his breath as she closed the door behind her.

She hopped into Seungcheols’ brother’s old car (which he had gifted for her birthday this year) and popped a piece of chewing gum in her mouth as she drove down the streets of Seoul.

Once she arrived 2 blocks from her destination, she parked her car before whipping out her phone and began typing out a message saying that she’d arrived.

That was until she was rudely interrupted by knocking on the window.

Jangmi scoffed and unlocked the car, letting the two masked figures in the car.

“We have about 5 minutes till the others get here.”

“Could’ve had more but someone arrived a bit late.”

Jangmi turned around so she was facing the back seat. “Oh Fuck off Mark. There was a line at Maccas”

Mark lowered his mask before leaning over to the front and stealing a sip from her chocolate frappe.

She swatted his arm, before offering some of her drink to the boy in the passenger seat who was putting on his seatbelt despite the car being parked.

“Want some?”

“I’d rather kiss you.” And with that comment, Jangmi’s mask was quickly pulled down as her boyfriend gave her a quick peck.

“Listen guys, I know we’re all best friends here but like I’d prefer not sitting at the back when y’all are both sucking face.”

“One kiss Mark. One kiss.” Jangmi laughed, before grabbing her boyfriends’ hand, and placing it on her lap. “I know you’re jealous you’re not getting some but stop ruining the moment.”

“You would be getting some if you went on the blind date I set you up with.”

“Listen, I love you honey. But she was such a horrible pair for Mark. They’re both so busy, they would never find time for each other.”

“Yet he still has time to third wheel our dates…” Her boyfriend mumbled as he began adjusting the review mirror so he could fix up his hair.

“He’s my best friend, what do you expect.” Mark held out his hand for a fist bump, and Jangmi happily obliged. Ignoring the whine from her boyfriend for letting go of his hand. “Canada line for life!”

“You’re not even Canadian!”

“I basically made that groupchat what it is today.”

“Still not as elite as the 2000-line group chat.”

“Do I also need to remind you, I am also apart of that.”

“What’s up with you and joining groupchats you’re not apart of. Honestly.”

Mark reached over to grab another sip of the drink. “Do you both act coupley in that aswell? Cos Jaemin says you both are completely normal.”

Her boyfriend laughed before placing his hoodie over his hair again. “Only you get to see our romance in action.”

“I’d rather not.” Mark grumbled before clapping his hands. “We need to decide what we’re gonna do this weekend.”

“Should we do a movie night?” Jangmi suggested, squeezing her boyfriend’s thigh. “You wanted to watch the ‘To all the boy I loved series’.”

He nodded in confirmation. “Our dorm or yours?”

“Jeno said he wanted to watch it as well” Mark added. “So I think we can do ours?”

“Perfect! I’ll bring the snacks. And definitely some hot sauce.” Jangmi chuckled at her wordplay.

Her boyfriend smiled fondly at her, before pushing some strands of hair out of her face. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“And you’re lucky I love Chenle. That boy is so talented. Do one of you think he would go on a date with me?” She gushed, holding both her hands to her chest.

Her boyfriend grabbed her hands, before peppering them with kisses. “Still love him?” Jangmi couldn’t hold back her smile, her heart overflowing with warmness.

She looked into her lovers eyes, and subconsciously leaned over, with him mirroring her actions. Just when their lips grazed each other, Mark interrupted them by clearing his throat.

“I’m not sorry for interrupting this shit, but the rest of the guys have arrived.” He leaned forward, pushing his groupmate back, and gave Jangmi a very awkward car hug.

“Later loser.” Mark exited the car, giving her a casual salute.

Jangmi watched as he got into the NCT Dream van. Switching the drink to his right hand, as he opened the car door.

“Wait. My Chocolate frappe!” She shrieked, just realising that her drink had gotten stolen.

Her boyfriend laughed, before pecking her lip. “Vote for us today?”

Jangmi went in for another kiss. “When don’t I?”

“Can we call tonight?” He asked, rubbing his thumb up and down her hand.

She nodded, “I think we’re filming a dance practise video. I’ll try my best.”

He pouted before leaning in for another kiss. This one softer and longer than the rest.

Jangmi pulls away, taking a moment to appreciate her boyfriend. She parted his hair to have a clearer view of his sparkling eyes. Her favourite feature.

“Go before they horn us again.” She chuckled. “Also tell Mark he’s an asshole.”

“I don’t understand how you both are best friends” He muttered under his breath, as he unbuckled his seatbelt and readjusted the review mirror back into its original position.

He gave her one last kiss, pulled his hood down over his face and got out of the car.

Jangmi rolled down the passenger window, so he could rest his elbows the window frame.

“I love you Kim Rydel.” He whispered.

Jangmi smiled, before leaning over as far as she could towards the window.

“I love you too. Lee Donghyuck.”

[sergeantsporks]

Day After Day

Rating: Teen and Up, Gen

Life in the coven seems glamorous on the surface, but there's a lot of work in being a coven leader. Hunter can handle it. He CAN.

Ao3

Alarm. Shut it off.

Hunter blinked blearily at the tiny demon determinedly chomping his arm. He flicked its eye to get it to stop and peeled it off, tossing it to his counter. He rubbed his eyes, lying in bed for just a second—just one more minute.

Okay. That was enough. It was time to get up.

He needed to get up.

Up, or you’re late, and Kikimora will notice, and Belos will notice, and the whole coven will notice.

Technically, he was up an hour earlier than he had to be. Technically, he wasn’t even close to being late, because the rest of the coven wouldn’t even begin to get up for another hour.

Get up.

Hunter rolled off of his bed, flipping on the lights, because the sun hadn’t risen yet. His alarm demon had gone back to sleep.

Wish that were me.

Tunic, on, armor, on, cloak, on, pinned with the symbol of the emperor’s coven. Shoulder pad, on. Hunter picked up his mask, and a sick feeling swept over him.

I don’t want to put it on. I’m so sick of it. I just want to leave it off and breathe without it tasting like metal.

No. It kept him safe. It was protection from the outside world. He needed it.

Mask on. Hood up.

Down to the mess hall. No one else was up, and that included the chef demons—they’d wake up in about half an hour to start cooking breakfast for the coven scouts and guards. Hunter turned on the lights. Half an hour to cook something up, eat, clean, put everything back.

He set on a kettle, grabbing a mug and a tea ball. Too tired to make breakfast. He usually was. So, tea it was, and he’d get lunch with the rest of the coven—no avoiding that.

The kettle whistled, and Hunter poured the water. Wait awkwardly for the tea to steep. Pour the rest of the water out of the kettle, return it to its place, wipe off the counter where the mug had been to avoid spillage, take tea to cafeteria.

Just like every other day.

Titan.

Sit alone at the table, his mask pulled up just enough that he could fit the mug under, sipping tea that was just a little too hot and a little too bitter.

Good, it would wake him up.

Just like every other morning.

Finish the tea. Ten minutes until the kitchen staff showed up. Wipe off table, clean mug, return it to cabinet. Turn off lights. It was like he’d never been there.

Go to the center office and check for the night patrol reports. There were 2, one for each shift. Both were a quick read and a quick file. Nothing eventful.

The coven was starting to stir, a few early risers up and about. They gave respectful nods to him as he passed them in the hallway, and he gave them acknowledgement nods back.

Wish I had time for a nap.

But it was just about time for him to designate the day’s patrols, and after that he had guard duty in the Emperor’s throne room for matters of state, and then it would be time for lunch, and then the first round of reports would be in, and he’d have to read those, and then he’d have his own patrol, and then it would be time for his daily exercise routine and then it would be dinner time, and then finally he’d have just a little bit of time to himself, but at that point it would be too late to take a nap, because that would mean he wouldn’t fall asleep later, and anyway, he’d need to be awake to read and file the last set of reports before the night shift, and then it would be time to do a sweep of the castle before everything settled down and then it would be time to go to sleep so that he could get an adequate amount of rest for tomorrow.

Obviously he didn’t have any time to take a nap right now.

And the day progressed exactly as he knew it would. Organize the scouts, guard the emperor, lunch, reports, patrol (nothing eventful), training, dinner. And then he was in his room, and he could finally take off the mask completely and breathe freely.

Hunter flipped the cover of a book back and forth. Opened it up to the page he’d left out on. Sighed. Set it aside. Picked up a different book. Set it down. Picked up his staff, starting to polish it, then setting that aside, too. Picked up the first book again, and stared at the page he’d been on for a few minutes without reading it. Closed it again.

He really just wanted to go to sleep. But he couldn’t, or he wouldn’t sleep tonight.

You like reading. Just read a book. It’ll make you happy.

He picked up the book, flipping the cover back and forth again, staring at the page.

He just couldn’t summon the willpower to actually read it.

You’ve been looking forward to it all day, what’s wrong with you? You like to read, just read the book!

I just don’t have the energy.

And then it was time to look at the patrol reports. Mask back on, trudge back to the office.

See, you didn’t really have the time to read anyway.

Hunter flipped through reports without reading them, putting his head down on the desk.

I’m too tired for this.

I should have taken that nap.

He flicked himself in the head. “Focus, you need to get this done. You said you’d get it done, you came down here to do it, no getting distracted, just do it.”

One of the reports contained a demon sighting, a real nasty large one.

Huh. He’d have to make sure the patrols to that area were briefed on the possible danger, maybe assign larger patrols. He felt sick just thinking about rearranging the size, changing the routine of the coven—it was a lot of work.

Sounds like a tomorrow problem.

Yes. It was too late to worry about it now—there was nothing he could do at the moment, he’d just have to figure out the change tomorrow, when he assigned patrols.

Nightly inspection.

Nothing wrong. Everything in order. No problems.

Hunter unpinned his cape, hanging it up neatly. Tunic left for laundry, armor and belt hung up with cape. Helmet on the bedside table.

Teeth brushed, face washed, all in order.

Hunter was asleep when his head hit the pillow.

Alarm. Shut it off.

Hunter didn’t for a minute, until the biting of the alarm demon got too painful to ignore. He flicked it away.

Titan. Just. Let me lie here for a second.

No. You put off redesigning those patrols, so you have to get an extra early start, now get up.

Uniform.

Tea.

Night shift reports—a little faster than usual, mostly skimming. No sighting of that demon.

Figure out those patrols.

Hunter thumped his head against the desk repeatedly.

Figure out the patrols.

Come on, stupid brain, focus.

Okay. He could make the patrols not going through the area with the sighting a bit smaller—there hadn’t been any incidents in those sectors, so they didn’t need a full patrol. And then he could just add those extra people to the patrols going through the hot spot, warn all patrols to be on the lookout, and… the new patrols needed to be particularly well-balanced, with a mix of defense and offense. So he couldn’t just shift patrol members from one side to another, he had to redesign the entire schedule to make the best teams.

Should have looked at this last night.

Well, you didn’t, because you never learn this lesson, now redesign the patrols.

He was late out of the office to see the early risers, hurrying to the briefing room where he explained the situation, handed out the new assignments, warned the scouts to be on their guard and to call for backup if necessary, then hurried off to the throne room.

This was the closest thing he got to a break until after dinner. Sure, he had to stand ramrod straight and hold still unless it was necessary to move, but at least he didn’t have to think, at least not the way he had to when he was designing patrols. He just had to be alert.

Lunch.

Reports.

Patrol was nice. He finally got to be alone, no one looking for direction or asking him to do something.

Lilith had never done patrols when she was coven head—but then, she’d had her special assignment of capturing the owl lady.

Oh. Oh, right, Lilith had also had to organize Covention, which would… now be his job. He should probably get on that—except he didn’t really have the time to organize Covention, because he only barely had enough time to get the DAILY things done, he didn’t have time for a major project like Covention!

Whatever. Whatever, he’d just have to get ahead on some patrol schedules, and then he’d have the time. It would be fine, he just had to work a little harder now, and start planning early. He could use some of his free time, it wasn’t like he was managing to do anything he actually wanted to do anyway.

Hunter finished the patrol—nothing to report, nothing of note.

Training.

Dinner—he just grabbed some food from the mess hall and headed up to his room, scarfing down a piece of bread while he planned the next week’s worth of patrols.

He could skip the nightly check tonight—it technically wasn’t one of his official duties, it just made him feel safer. But tonight he was too busy, he lost track of time looking at old covention shows and speeches.

Hunter rubbed his eyes with a yawn, clearing away his plate. Time… time to go to sleep.

Titan.

Alarm. Shut it off.

I don’t want to.

Get up. Get up, get up, get up.

Hunter ripped the alarm demon off of his arm with a groan, sitting up and scattering old covention records. Titan.

He stacked the papers neatly.

Mask on.

Tea.

Reports.

The patrol reports he’d missed from yesterday marked another demon sighting—and there were a few citizen reports, too, the creature was destroying local shops. Not just a watch anymore, then—he needed to put a price on its head, which meant he needed to take a look at the coven budget.

Later problem.

Shift assignments.

Emperor’s guard.

Titan. Was this it? Doing this for the rest of his life? Was that what he wanted?

Of course it was. Of course it was, of course it was. This was a bright future—looked up to, in command of the most powerful coven, right hand man to his uncle. So what if it got a little monotonous, a little stressful? There were plenty of people who would kill to be in his position.

Public time over. The throne room doors closed. “Golden Guard. It has come to my attention that we have a bit of a demon problem.”

Hunter inclined his head. “Yes, sir. I’ve increased patrol size, and was planning to put out a reward for its capture or destruction.”

“I would prefer if you oversaw this one personally.”

“Personally?” Whoops—he hadn’t meant for that to come out questioning.

“Personally. I know you have a lot on your plate, managing the coven. But I’m certain you can handle this as well, yes?”

Yes, he could handle it. Of course he could handle it, it just meant shifting priorities, and taking up the time he’d set aside for planning covention, and maybe getting behind on the reports for a couple of days while he solved this problem. He could handle it, but that didn’t mean he wanted to. You don’t have to. You could outsource the job to scouts, or put that reward up.

But Emperor Belos wanted him to do it, and Emperor Belos believed he could do it—which he could, no problem—so of course he would, because he couldn’t disappoint the emperor, no matter how much he wished he could just have one focus.

“Of course, Emperor Belos. You can rely on me.”

Okay, okay, okay, he just had to find and kill this thing quick. He skipped lunch, re-reading the reports of the demon. It always appeared in the same spot at around the same time—luckily during his report-reading time, not in the time he would be in the throne room. Simple, easy, go to spot, kill monster, get on with life.

Hunter took a deep breath. Okay. He’d just go with the patrol tomorrow. No big deal.

Patrol, reading a few more reports as roamed his set area.

You wished for something new to break up the monotony, he scolded himself, tucking reports away on his way back.

Training—nope, he was too tired. Not today. He was hungry, too, but mostly he was just. Exhausted. He kept himself together long enough to get to his room, then passed out on his bed.

What time is it?

Hunter blinked blearily at the setting sun outside—past dinner, then. That was fine, he was fine. He’d gotten sleep, and that was what really mattered.

Alarm. Shut it off.

Hunter peeled himself off of his bed with a groan. He didn’t remember falling asleep again.

Maybe I should leave the demon hunt for tomorrow.

No. Nope. He’d put it off long enough, waiting for its normal appearance time instead of tracking it down. He just needed to grit his teeth and get it done.

So after his time guarding the emperor, he went out with the next patrol. And then, there it was, a giant cat-like creature with bat wings and the tail of a scorpion. The rest of the patrol assumed defensive positions, and Hunter zipped forward, shooting bolts of magic at the creature. It yowled, swiping a paw at him. Hunter just barely dodged it—his mind was fuzzy, slow. Maybe he should have made an effort to eat something this morning. Another blast of magic—but that just seemed to be irritating it. Hunter zipped to the side, hitting a tree with his magic instead. It crashed down on top of the demon, pinning it, and he came in for a closer look. Where was its weak—

Hunter rolled to the side as its tail stabbed down towards him. It grazed his leg, and hot pain flooded from the wound.

Too slow, too slow, too slow.

Wait—

Hunter dodged the next tail strike, then slammed his staff against the creature’s tail, using a burst of magic to send the tip of the tail into the creature’s eye. It howled, thrashing.

The scouts jogged up, binding the demon. Some help they’d been—no wonder this thing had been terrorizing people. “Sir! Are you alright?”

Hunter waved them away. “Fine. Just a scratch. Can you handle this?”

“Sir!”

“Good.”

Hunter climbed onto his staff, warping away. Ow—that stung. It was just a scratch, but the creature’s venom made the whole thing throb and itch. He didn’t think it was deadly—none of its attacks on citizens had been fatal, and even stabbing itself in the eye hadn’t killed it. But it sure did hurt.

It’s fine, it’s fine.

Back to the coven. Wrap up the leg, sew up the rip in his pant leg, slap a healing patch on to stop the pain so he could carry through the rest of the day.

Finally eat a meal—but not scarf it down like he wanted to, because other coven members were there, so slow and dignified it was.

Those reports were piling up—I’ll do them later.

Pass out, barely managing to hang up his uniform.

Alarm. Shut it off.

Hunter didn’t move, just staring up at the ceiling, his leg throbbing and pulsing.

Come on. You can do it. Just like every other day. Just… get up.

Just five more minutes. Five more minutes, and then we’ll get up.

No. You have to catch up on all of those reports—because if you can’t get the reports done, you won’t even be caught up to today, and it will just pile up, and you won’t be able to do Covention plans.

Hunter pulled the alarm demon off.

You can do it.

No one will notice if you’re struggling as long as you continue to succeed.

One day at a time.

[maplecornia]

chapter 10

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 3.24K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: I think the banner is super cute for this one, fitting to the super FLUFFY moments in this chapter ehehehe

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags: @kookaine |@fangirl125reader |@kookiebbyxx |@taradevonne

He takes you to a studio.

Though the hallway is simple, another slather of pure white paint, stone, and plaster, the floor a gorgeous light charcoal tile. The door to the studio is beautiful hardwood, a large window of tinted glass embedded within so that you can see a bit inside.

You stare at it with awestruck eyes.

Namjoon doesn't notice your expression at first, turning the knob to the door, and entering.

As he does, you don't move. You don't know if you can.

The studio isn't much, it's very simple when you think about it.

It's spacious, with dark walls and an almost metallic look to it. There are two comfortable chairs located at the soundboard which has a black undertone to them. The table is dark hardwood, even the floor is plated with dark mosaic tile. The recording area on the other side of the massive one-way glass in front of the soundboard has the same black theme, the walls soundproofed with patches of black material.

Though it may seem simple to some, to you, it could not be more beautiful.

This room holds every dream you ever had, everything you had once wanted to be. On the other side of that glass, you would have sung and made the very same music that helped you feel loved and wanted.

As you stand there, awestruck, RM notices that you're not beside him. He pauses, turning around to you, his computer powering on. He looks at you, a bit confused.

“Yen?” at his voice, you break out of your trance and snap your eyes to him. He chuckles a bit before setting down his coffee. “Are you going to come in? It's rude to stand in open doorways.”

Shaking yourself out of your reverie, you nod, hurrying in and closing the door shut behind you.

“Yes. I’m sorry I was just…” you trail off, searching for the words to explain, but coming up empty, you fall silent.

Namjoon gives you a look as you stop in the middle of the room, getting that dreamy, glazed-over look in your eyes once more. You seem as though you're afraid to touch anything. Maybe it will ruin the dream, somehow wake you up, when you don't want to be bothered.

“Are you okay?” he inquires, peering deeper into your eyes and tilting his head in a questioning gesture. Once more, the expression on your face disappears and you chuckle nervously.

“Yes, it's just, this doesn't quite feel real.”

“What do you mean?”

“It's always been my dream to come to a place like this.” You murmur, taking a steadying breath as you tentatively run your fingers over the top of the desk. The cool glossed-over granite sends a small shiver down your spine before you pull your hand back to your heart.

Namjoon’s eyes scan your face, searching it, as though it is the most interesting thing in the room right now. If you were to notice, the sight of his intense gaze would cause your heart to beat faster.

“What? A studio?” he inquires. You turn to him and nod, your mouth breaking into a wide grin, as you can’t ignore the pounding of adrenaline in your veins at your excitement.

“Yes. I've dreamed of being in one ever since I was a little girl.” Wistfully, your eyes turn to the one-way glass separating the soundproof from the recording studio.

“I would have sung right there, in front of that microphone. My producers and composers would be behind this glass, giving me pointers and helping me to make the best version of my song possible.” You explain, pointing to the lone microphone in the middle of the room. “But, I never got to live it.”

“What do you mean?” he asks intently, his eyes snapping back to you. You smile sadly and turn away from the glass, raising your tea to your lips. “Why couldn't you pursue your dream?”

“I didn't want to debut as a solo artist.” You answer him, chucking a bit bitterly afterward.

“It's a stupid reason, I know, but in America, there aren't necessarily companies constantly holding new auditions for boy and girl groups, like in Seoul. Normally it was you, on your own. If you wanted to debut as a group, you had to have people you knew willing to do that with you. I didn't have people who would want to do that with me. They all had their dreams, and I had mine. I saw those solo artists perform, and all I could see was how lonely they were up there. I wouldn't be able to do that. I don't think I'd be able to survive, to feel as though I were the only one in the world. As though everything I did or didn't do would define who I was. I wouldn't be strong enough to deal with that on my own.”

He looks at you, silent but understanding. As you raise your eyes to him, almost hesitant, you don't expect to see the sweet, kind smile on his face.

“It's not stupid.” He says, turning to the computer and opening up a few files. “Besides, now you're living it...sort of. How does it feel?”

He pulls back one of the chairs and beckons for you to sit down. You take it, easing yourself into the chair and thankfully finding that nothing disappears.

“Unreal.” You whisper, almost giddy at the sight of the soundboard in front of you. If you were in the recording area, things would get out of hand. He chuckles at your answer and sits down as well, pulling up a demo that he has no doubt been working on.

“You're lucky Yoongi isn't here, he would fuss at you for taking his seat.” He teases, but your eyes go wide and you almost stand up. RM grabs you by the wrist almost as soon as you do and sits you back down in your seat.

“Don't worry, I’m just joking.” You smile, laughing nervously, but continue to sit on the edge of the chair.

“Is he here?” you ask, trying to make sure you aren't overstepping any boundaries. Namjoon shakes his head in response, adjusting things on the soundboard.

“He was supposed to be but got called away for another project. He’s still a producer after all, and was only helping me a bit with this demo.” He explains. Relaxing, you sit back, nodding.

He proceeds to play with the soundboard as though it were some secret language only he knew, and you watch him, trying to study how it works. He pushes up a button there, twists a knob here, all the while clicking continuously on his computer.

“Is this what you got from your studio?” you inquire, and he turns toward you. As you glance up at him, your eyes meet before he turns back to the computer, and nods.

“Yep. I've been working on this for quite some time now, but can't seem to get the sound right. It's strange because I already have the lyrics for it, but one part just doesn't seem to flow.” You watch as his cursor highlights one part of his track and he pulls a pair of headphones off from the console. Drawing away from his computer, he turns to you. He offers them to you in a questioning gesture.

“Do you want to hear?” he asks and you nod, reaching for them.

Instead, he places them securely on your head, and your hands go up quickly to readjust it to your liking. As they do, your hands touch his as they pull away, for a small moment. It sends a shock through your body, and you can hardly look him in the eye as your face grows hot.

He, however, can't take his eyes off you. As you glance up at him with that innocent, confused gaze, he has to quickly turn away. His hand raises to his mouth, as though that would hide it from your curious orbs.

“Are you ready?” he asks softly, hoping that would cover up his slight embarrassment.

“Yes.”

Complying, he clicks the play button and after a small sound of silence, the music begins, soft and steady. It has a peaceful beat to it, one that calms you and makes you smile. Closing your eyes, you tap your hands over the headphones, almost as if to press the music deeper into your mind. As it progresses, the music grows faster and you can hear a woman's voice in the background vocalizing.

Opening your eyes, remembering that this should be where RM is having trouble, you can hear the music begin to transition, as though a record were stopping at the end of its song.

You can see where RM is having trouble.

The music that comes next is too fast, too different from the beginning of the track, it holds no consistency. Once it fades out, back to the calm and quiet track, you pull off the headphones, pondering what to tell him.

You know that he wants your opinion, but you don't want to be disrespectful.

“Well? Any suggestions?” he asks, holding your gaze with persistent eyes.

“May I?” you request, gesturing to the computer, and he nods, switching places with you. You have enough experience with software such as this that you know what you're doing.

“You see this area right here? I feel as though that's where the sound starts to sound a bit off. It's not necessarily that the beat is bad, it's perfect. However, in this area, it doesn't flow like the rest of the song.” As you play the area you're talking about, you hardly notice how close Namjoon moves to you, peering at the screen.

Your bodies are mere inches apart, his heat making your back warm. It's comforting, as though there is someone behind you whom you can trust.

“You see?” you say once it stops playing, turning and finding your face inches away from him. As he peers at the screen with narrowed, focused eyes he doesn’t notice you staring.

He's so close that you can see the deep brown of his eyes, the product in his soft hair, and the smoothness of his cheeks. The comforting warmth immediately changes into something else. Swallowing hard, you tear your gaze away. Pressing your hands to your cheeks, you try to cool them down, and silently wonder if he can hear how fast your heart is beating.

Honestly...how could Korea ever call this man ugly?

“What would you suggest we can do to change it?” he asks, glancing down at you just as you raise your eyes to the screen, trying to ignore your pounding heart.

“I think that maybe if you used the same piano accompaniment in the beginning after the transition, then that would satisfy the need for consistency while keeping the original sound of the track.” You suggest, looking at him for approval.

He doesn't answer at first, instead, he reaches across you, carrying out your task. Swallowing hard, you freeze, afraid to make the tiniest movement and accidentally touch him.

He doesn't notice, his turn to be entranced in his work, and you're thankful for it. You try to inconspicuously hide your face from him, missing your baggy clothes. Normally the giant sleeves would be enough to mask your blush, but now you only have the comfort of your small hands against your cheeks. Once he's done, he pulls back, gesturing for you to play it.

“Let's see if this works.” He murmurs, almost hopeful. You nod, pressing the mouse and intentionally avoiding eye contact with him until your heart has calmed down. The beginning of the song starts once again, helping to calm your nerves and you feel at ease once more.

You weren't aware there would be so little personal space when you first walked into the BigHit building.

When it comes to the particular area in the song, you're surprised to find that your idea worked. The small part no longer sounds out of place and it flows with the rest of the song. It still needs some tuning, but you solved his problem.

“Woah…” Kim Namjoon mutters, and you turn to him, finding surprise and a sort of pride in his expression.

“That’s incredible.” His eyes turn from the screen to rest on you laughing softly.

“Did you know that you're incredible? It's such a simple fix, such a simple error. Something we couldn’t pick up, and you…” he runs his hand over his face, staring at the computer screen with an unbelievable expression before turning his eyes to you once more. “I guess what they say about fresh ears is true.”

You blush at the pride, trying to ignore it, act like you did nothing at all, which you didn't. With him looking at you that way, however, it's hard not to feel vital, somehow important to this song.

“So!” you say, sitting straight in your chair and turning to him. “What do we do next?”

“What to do next….” he ponders on the thought before his eyes widen as though remembering something.

He curses under his breath, checking his watch. Immediately, he pulls back from the soundboard, and heads to the door, beckoning for you to follow him. You hurry to your feet, taking his coffee and your tea before scuttling after him.

“Where are we going?” you call out, having to jog to reach his side. He doesn't answer you, just mutters incomprehensible things under his breath.

You keep quiet behind him, understanding that he's stressed out. Sometimes it's just better to keep silent to show that you understand. You do that for him now, just follow him as he leads you back to Mon Studio, retrieving a few things and pocketing them in a backpack.

You wait for him near the entrance by your satchel, where you left it safe before.

As he finishes and begins to search for something, his phone rings and he curses once more. He rolls his eyes in annoyance as he pulls it out from his pocket.

“Yes?” he snaps.

As he presumes to continue packing, he beckons you for help. You comply, setting down the drinks before packing away the papers, pens, and flash drives into his pack.

“Han, I know I’m late, okay? I was in the middle of something.” Turning from you, he snags a mask off from a small hook on his wall. He shoves that into his jacket, before rummaging through his desk drawers, searching for something.

Han?

“Yes, I understand that it's an important meeting, I am trying my best to get there.” As you finish packing, he turns to you, whispering glasses, and you nod, beginning to search for them as well. He continues talking incomprehensibly on the phone, just as you spy the glasses. You snatch them, presenting them miraculously to him. He smiles at your ecstatic expression, taking them and placing them on his hat securely.

“Okay. Yes, I understand. Alright, I’ll see you soon.” With that, he ends the call, sighing as he places his phone back in his pocket and turns to you.

“I'm sorry about all that, I forgot I had to go to a meeting out of Yongsan-dong today and lost track of time.” He explains. You nod, understanding as he begins to position his mask on his face. “I was hoping to teach you the ropes a bit more, but I guess that will have to wait till tomorrow. Speaking of which, do you know what time to get here?”

“Yes. I'm supposed to get here around 7:30 am so that I’m ready.”

“Ready with what?” you smirk at his little question game before answering.

“Your schedule and coffee. You'll text me if you want me to get coffee for the other members. You'll also text me if I’m supposed to meet you in another place besides your studio. For now, I’ll be able to find any place in the building on the map you gave me.” He nods mutely as you recite your duties like a soldier. Once you're finished, he zips up his backpack and hikes it on his shoulder.

“Good. you'll be able to get the schedule from the receptionist at the front desk every morning. You'll also be accompanying me to every meeting, practice, or recording I have unless otherwise specified.” You nod in agreement, watching as he turns around in a circle seeming to search for something.

“Where did I…” reading his mind, you turn to the place where you put the drinks and hand him his coffee.

“Here you go.” You say, and he smiles, laughing at himself for his absentmindedness. He takes it from you, your hands making slight contact, but this time it isn't shocking. It's familiar, almost brotherly, makes you feel secure and comforted.

“Is there anything else I need to do?”

“Yes, actually if you could clean up my studio and the one we were working in, that would be a great help. You remember where it is right?” you nod, and he nods in return, turning to the door.

“After that, you'll be able to go home, I hope tomorrow I’ll be able to teach you more.” As he opens the door and steps outside, you bow to him, respectfully.

“Thank you, Mr. Kim. Once more, I apologize for being so late.” After a moment, you raise your head and find him staring at you with an unreadable expression. His soft brown eyes remind you of a wistful puppy. You tilt your head in confusion at the look, wondering what he could be thinking in that vast brain of his.

“Mr. Kim?”

“You don't need to do that.” He murmurs, as though he's talking half to himself.

“What?” you inquire, trying to make sure you heard him right. He turns fully to you, repeating himself once more, this time a bit louder for you to hear.

“You don't have to be so formal. I know everyone else does it, but you don't have to.”

You blink at him blankly.

“Jaejin never used them either. I guess it's easier to drop the formalities and work with someone who feels as though they’re a friend.” He explains, flashing a small smile your way. “I hope that won't be too hard.”

“Oh! Oh no! Not at all!” you say quickly, shaking your head vigorously.

“It makes it a bit easier on me, actually. Using honorifics can be a bit confusing.” You chuckle a bit and his smile grows wider, softening at the tips.

“Goodbye, Yen.” He says, turning away once more, before pausing and peeking over his shoulder at you as though he forgot something. “By the way, Jaejin was right."

"About what?" you ask, a bit confused, but all he does is smile.

"I'm glad he chose you as his replacement.”

The sweet phrase leaves you standing there frozen, unable to mutter a goodbye.

He chuckles to himself at the expression, placing his sunglasses on his nose before walking out of the room and down the hallway.

It takes you a moment, but once he’s gone, you shake out of your trance, your heart pounding deep in your chest.

“Thank you, Namjoon.” You whisper to yourself, holding your hand to your heart as you drop the honorific.

Crossing that barrier that turns you from a co-worker into his friend.

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: so...ship or skip?

chapter 11 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

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[clearsuitcasecookienerd]

See You in the Stars (part 1)

hey y’all... so I did a thing... I wrote out one of my brain’s fic babies and here we are. a huge thanks to @lumosinlove for bringing these wonderful characters to life. and a huge thank you to everyone that encouraged me and helped me write this. y’all are truly the best <3 and yes, this is a multipart fic so be on the look out for more :)

Kasey loved to just stare at the moon and stars. He always had, for as long as he could remember. It was grounding. As grounding as having a mini existential crisis about how small and insignificant you really are can be. Staring at the moon and thinking about how a small hunk of rock that is gravitationally connected to the giant hunk of rock you’re living on can influence things like the ocean, it’s wild. It makes all your problems feel just a little bit more insignificant. The way space just expands and expands for literal light years and is full of stars and burning balls of gas and massive hunks of rock and the way there has to be life out there somewhere, because we really can’t be all that special. Space made his problems feel just insignificant enough where he could manage them. And space was always just outside the window. Except for where its day time, but the phenomenon that is clouds and the sun, that is another topic in and of itself. 

As a kid, Kasey would get in trouble for staying up past his bed to look through his telescope up at the stars and moon. He didn’t understand why he was getting in trouble, he was still lying in his bed after all. When just lying in bed wasn’t helping him fall asleep, Kasey had begun to look out the window. Through his window he could see the stars and sometimes the moon. Over time he began to bring home books on the stars and the moon in addition to his hockey books from the library. At night, when everything got too quiet except for his thoughts, Kasey would stare at the stars and the moon and think about how maybe the thoughts running through his head that wouldn’t shut up maybe weren’t that important. Because they sure didn’t affect the moon, or the stars or any of the other thousands of galaxies in the sky. So if a burning ball of gas could have giant rocks circle around it hundreds of light years away then maybe he could pass the upcoming math test, or get his reaction time faster. And maybe it didn’t matter if he let in the goal that lost his team their last game against their rival. Because if it didn’t change the universe was it really that big of an issue?

So a couple months in to playing for the Rangers when Kasey found out Alex O’Hara had a similar fascination with space, grabbing take out and driving to a spot where they could lie on the ground and just stare into the sky after a long practice, or something equally as draining, became second nature. When Kasey had a rough game in goal or Alex was frustrated, all it took was one small jerk of the head to the side to let the other know that time with the sky was needed. 

It was when they were lying in their spot, staring at the stars, when Kasey knew he had to tell Alex. They had called him this afternoon, “Hey Winter, we’ve got some news for you.” Calls during trade season weren’t rare, but Kasey had hoped that maybe he would escape this season without one. But sure enough, here he was, lying in the grass, staring at the sky and trying to figure out how he was supposed to tell the teammate that had quickly become his best friend, that this was probably one of the last times they’d be able to do this. 

After he had hung up the phone, Kasey had slid down the wall he had been leaning against for support. He was leaving. He was packing his bags and headed for Gryffindor. Sure the Lions were a decent team, they had that rookie Black that was really promising, but they didn’t have everything. They didn’t have the family he had created with the Rangers and they didn’t have Alex. Alex who he had quickly grown close with and who knew there was someone under the goalie face that everyone said he was so good at. Alex, he’d have to let him know. Maybe under the stars, where everything just feels so insignificant. Where maybe moving away from everything he knew will feel just a little bit less meaningful.

A simple “stare at the stars tonight?” text and a couple hours later, Kasey still didn’t know how to explain the call he had received.

Alex had been talking about something for a while. Kasey hadn’t meant to stop listening but honestly all he could think about was Gryffindor and what the move would mean. Would he and Alex stay friends, stay in contact? Growing up, most kids didn’t understand what it was like to be so devoted to something the way Kasey was to hockey. But Alex, Alex understood and he understood the pressure to do well and perform.

Alex remembered those nights with Kasey under the stars. When Kasey Winter, the Rangers goalie, would take off his mask and become Kasey, someone Alex had fallen in love with. Lying under the stars and staring at the twinkling lights and the glowing moon, Alex met the man under the mask. But the first time he had stared at the sky with Kasey, Alex had lied. Well not completely. 

Alex’s car had overheated on the way to practice that night and as he had pulled off the road and called the mechanic, Alex realized he would have to catch a ride home with one of the guys that night. After practice, he had gotten lucky and the team decided to grab dinner together at the local sub shop. When Kasey offered up a spot in his car for carpooling to dinner, Alex tried his best to nonchalantly take him up on it. 

Alex loved the sub shop, he truly did, and so when he had realized he’d eaten too much it was already too late. Standing up, with what felt like a stomach the size of Texas, he had never been more glad he had chosen to wear sweats home from practice. As the hockey players began to move the tables they had shoved together back to their original locations, Alex had taken a deep breath and asked the question that would solve the problem he had been trying to figure out all night.

“Hey Winter,” Kasey turned around and gave him a half smile.

“What’s up, Hazard”

Scratching the back of his neck, Alex had completely stumbled over his words “So my car broke down on the way to practice and I called the mechanic and he towed it back to his place but he said he didn’t have a rental on him-” when he had looked up, Alex saw a subdued yet amused expression on Kasey’s face.

“Do you need a ride O’Hara?” Kasey had asked, trying to help the man out of his misery.

“Honestly that would be great if you don't mind,” Alex had said, “my apartments on your way home.”

Kasey had cracked a half smile and turned, swinging his keys on his finger and throwing a, let's go then, over his shoulder.

It wasn’t that Kasey was a bad driver, he was actually half decent. He stopped at stop signs for a full 3 seconds and he had stopped to let a squirrel cross the road. But after countless subs, Alex’s stomach wasn’t feeling too hot. As the shoulder of the road widened, Alex had seen his chance.

“Hey Winter, can you pull over for a second up there? I think I need a breather.”

As soon as Kasey had stopped the car, Alex hopped out, gulping down mouthfuls of the fresh air and staring at the still horizon while bent over with his hands on his knees. He hadn’t even noticed Kasey get out of the car and lean up against the passenger side until his nausea had subsided and he stood up. Kasey had been staring up at the sky. Glancing up, Alex noticed the stars were out and the moon was bright. Alex had simply said he thought the sky was pretty cool and it made him feel like a small little guy on a floating rock in the middle of an expansive stretch of space. And while he wasn’t completely lying, and he did feel pretty small, it wasn’t until he saw Kasey’s eyes light up out of the corner of his eye that he truly found the sky to be pretty cool. That night a bond had formed between the two hockey players. What Alex had thought was just a random comment he made after hoping he wasn’t going to lose his supper, was something that Kasey had been thinking about for years. It was something that grounded Kasey. And to have someone else think that… well Kasey felt slightly less alone on the big rock that exists in a wide expanse of space surrounded by balls of burning gas and other chunks of rock. And maybe feeling a little less alone could be a good thing.

It had started slowly, when the team would get together for dinner Alex would make a point of asking Kasey for a ride. And if they drove by a nice area, if Alex asked Kasey to pull over, Kasey wouldn’t question it. It took a couple nudges but once Alex heard Kasey talk about how staring at the stars caused everything in his life to seem just a bit smaller, Alex knew he was going to have to schedule star staring into his calendar more often. 

Telling Alex had been hard. How do you say, I got traded and I leave for Gryffindor in 2 days. Well maybe just like that but that seemed too big. Staring off into the stars hundreds of millions of miles away it seemed easier.

“-and so then he shakes his head and tries to tell me-”

“That star over there is Sirius. It’s the brightest star in the sky.” Kasey interrupted Alex seemingly out of nowhere.

“Oh that's cool, isn’t it a part of that dog constellation?” Alex had known what was happening. 

Kasey did this when he had something important to say that he wanted to seem a bit less meaningful when you are staring at the stars and realizing how insignificant your existence was. Or at least that's how he put it the one time Alex asked. Kasey would bring up a random star fact Alex knew he had memorized as a kid and Alex would play stupid and ask about it until Kasey was ready to talk about what was really on his mind.

“Sirius Black… that rookie, he’s going to be my new captain” Kasey had trailed off.

Alex had stared at the stars in shock, letting this settle in, “Oh?” he questioned.

“I got traded to Gryffindor.” Kasey had said in what Alex had coined his goalie voice. A stoney voice to match the stoney goalie face. “I leave in two days.”

“Well then,” Alex replied, “I’m glad we got to do this tonight.”

After they had stared into the vast night sky that Alex had begun to appreciate as much as Kasey did, Alex had finally broken the silence. 

“You know, they have stars and a moon in Gryffindor too.” He had said matter of factly.

Kasey scoffed and raised his eyebrows as he had glanced over to look at his best friend, “No really? I wasn’t aware of that.”

Alex sighed and had looked over, “I just meant that even if you’re there… maybe we can still do this when you’re not busy. We can just lay down and stare at the stars and remember how meaningless we are together.”

That had made Kasey smile. It hadn’t taken him long to realize that while Alex hadn’t originally shared his fascination with the sky, they did share an interest in spending time together and clearing their heads.

“And how do you propose we do that?” Kasey chuckled following the first smile Alex had seen of the night.

“I don’t know Winter, why don’t you use that smart head of yours and think us up a plan,” Alex replied with a roll of his eyes. 

“What if…” Alex had responded, with his voice progressively getting softer, “whenever you look at the stars, you remember that you and I, two tiny specks of nothingness, are looking at the same sky and if we can see those flaming balls of gas so many miles away then we must not actually be that far apart.”

“Yeah, that’s nice.” Kasey responded just as quietly. “I’m going to miss you Posie.”

Alex had smiled lightly, “I’m going to miss you too, but you’ll be up there.” He said as he had gestured up to the sky. “I’ll see you in the stars Bear, always.”

And as they lay there in the silence that followed, maybe, just maybe, Alex had meant what he said a little bit more than how he would to any other friend. But also maybe Kasey needed to hear it, to hear that he wasn’t as alone as he thought, after years of feeling insignificant on a floating rock. On a rock where nothing you did really mattered in the scheme of things, where nothing really mattered because you were so small. Where it didn’t matter that Alex was slowly falling deeper and deeper in love with his best friend. Or where it didn’t matter that Kasey was leaving the one person that made him feel grounded in a world that constantly made him question his relevance His relevance on a giant rock that spun around a ball of flaming gas that existed in an endless galaxy of other balls of burning gas and giant rocks where there were likely other people whose lives weren’t relevant in retrospect either.

[2996-sana]

Not the Jealous Type - Rosé

Rosé prided herself in being levelheaded and not of the jealous kind when it came to you. I mean, not really. You did. It started with your coworker, Tzuyu, who had taken quite a liking towards you in the beginning of last year which coincidentally was around the time you and Rosé started seeing each other. You weren’t tooting your own horn. Tzuyu really did fancy you. She said so herself, albeit drunkenly, during a late-night drinking session with your officemates, coincidentally again two nights after you made it official with Rosé. Rosé wasn’t stupid nor was she blind. She knew the first time she saw Tzuyu that the girl was practically head over heels for you, but it was two weeks in into a blossoming potential relationship when she realized and the last thing she wanted was to scare you off by being a possessive not-yet-girlfriend. So, she tucked that little piece of observation for next time and focused on you instead.

When she came over two nights after you finally asked her to be her girlfriend, you broke the news. The first thing on Rosé’s mind was, I knew it! which immediately turned to, I swear if she tries anything, I will not hesitate to break her bones and rui-

“Rosie?” you questioned, breaking her out of her jealousy induced trance. You were tilting your head in that cute little way that you always do when you were feeling uncertain and she felt the fires of jealousy and annoyance in her body simmering down. “Your forehead is all scrunched up and you’re pouting. Are you bothered by it? I’ll stay away from her if you feel uncomfortable.”

For the past few months, Rosé realized that she has never acted out on her jealousy, choosing to bottle it up. It worked out just fine and she avoided fights and confrontations that would’ve came with it. So obviously, it worked out just fine. At least thats what she was trying to convince herself. Why should she start acting on it now? She trusted you and that was what matters.

Rosé quickly composed herself and mustered up the most genuine smile she could in the moment, “Me? Bothered by her? Baby, not in a million years!” she scoffed, puffing out her chest. “You see, I’m really not the jealous type and I trust you.”

For a moment, she thought you saw right through her façade. With the way that you stared up at her all confused, she thought the words ‘I am actually seething with anger and jealousy right now’ magically made its way to her forehead. Instead, you broke out into that cute smile of yours and leaned forward to press a lingering kiss on her temple.

“If you say so, angel.”

In the next few months that followed, Rosé wasn’t sure her resolve was as strong as she thought it was. After that night, you and Tzuyu called a truce. You informed Tzuyu that you were happily in a relationship but you would like for things not to get awkward and for you and her to stay friends. Tzuyu obviously loved the idea, thinking that if she couldn’t have you as a girlfriend, she could at least keep you in her life as a friend.

So, if friendship was the agreement, why was it that Tzuyu jumped at every opportunity to make a move on you? All the while, Rosé had to act like the model girlfriend who never got jealous and stayed calm and collected. Why did she have to brag about not being the jealous type?

“Wow, you’re so chill about this,” you would always say. Rosé wanted to laugh. She deserved at least an Oscar nomination.

“Y/N, your phone has been buzzing nonstop!” Rosé groaned, pulling away from your lips, annoyed that she had to stop making out with you. “Who the fuck would text at 2 fucking am. Unbelie-” she narrowed her eyes at the contact name of the culprit and removed herself from your lap.

“What’s up, Rosie posie? Who is it?” you mused.

You saw Rosé battle with about a hundred emotions: confusion, anger, annoyance – before you could make out a lame attempt at a smile. She pushed your phone towards you.

“It’s Tzuyu,” she said through clenched teeth, trying to control her frustration, “she wants you to know that she found a super adorable picture of a fucking cat on Twitter.”

You raised your eyebrows at the hostile tone in your girlfriend’s voice before turning to her smugly, “Does that bother you, babe?”

“No!” Rosé didn’t miss a beat, her pride and ego taking a hit. “Why would I be? I don’t get jealous.”

“Hmm, alright then.” you giggled. You took your phone from her grasp and unlocked it, clicking the Messages app and reading Tzuyu’s texts.

Her last one read,

Tzuyu: oh n btw my friends have a small gig at the café this saturday. u up for it? hehe we never hang out anymore with just the two of us:(

You could feel Rosé looking over your shoulder, breathing down on your neck.

Rosé felt her blood rise once she processed what Tzuyu was implying. As far as she knew, Tzuyu has never invited you out before. The girl was getting too brave and it took all of Rosé’s self-control not to scream and make her way to Tzuyu’s house and set it on fire.

You turned to face her, feigning confusion and pretending to think about it. You had a small smile on your face as you stared at your girlfriend’s increasingly red face, and you really didn’t think it was a blush Rosé was sporting.

Rose scoffed, “You clearly want to go so just do it. Have fun or whatever.” she started picking at her nails and refused to look your way and you could tell you finally got her where you wanted her.

For the almost two years that you’ve been together, you grew amused at your girlfriend’s attempt to mask her jealousy. She would always act like Tzuyu’s (failed) advances didn’t faze her but you’ve caught her numerous times mumbling curses and words that were far from friendly under her breath when she thought you weren’t paying attention. Props to Rosé and her stubbornness to admit defeat but she really wasn’t as good an actress as she thought she was. It also didn’t help Rosé to have best friends like Jennie, Jisoo, and Lisa who snitched on her anytime they could but you decided to let your girlfriend live in her fantasy world and kept quiet about it. Plus, it was fun to see Rosé silently squirm. At this point, you were just waiting for her to break and it seemed like the time has finally come for Rosé to draw the line.

“Someone is a bit jealous,” you teased, pinching her cheeks.

Rosé slapped your hand away and gave you her most menacing glare, “Shut up!”

“You’re not denying it then?”

“Well, maybe if she wasn’t so set on stealing you away from me, I wouldn’t need to be jealous,” Rosé grumbled, crossing her arms. Bingo.

At her admission, you try to hide the smile forcing its way into your face.

“Stop! Stop looking at me like that,” your girlfriend whined. The smile on your face drops as you notice tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

You immediately sprung into action and cradled her, “Shit, baby, what’s wrong?”

Tears started to soak your hoodie as you hear your girlfriend’s sniffles.

“Rosie, talk to me,” you pleaded. Seeing your girlfriend cry was not on the agenda of Operation Make Rosie Admit She’s Actually Jealous and it just made you upset that it had come to this. “I’m so sorry, babe.”

“Don’t be fooled,” she silently growled. “These are tears of anger.”

“What?”

“I hate her!” she snarled, wrapping her arms around your waist. “She better fucking stop or on god I’m gonna start swinging!”

You laughed at your girlfriend who was clinging onto you for dear life. You decide to let her have her moment because you knew she had a lot of pent up anger towards the situation, so you spent half an hour listening to her curse and threaten anyone who would dare try to make a move.

By the end of her rant, she was out of breath.

“How does it feel to finally let it out?” you snickered.

She only tightened her hold around you, “Pretty rude of you not to tell me you knew, by the way. But I feel so much better now that I get to tell you that if you even try to entertain other girls, I will end you and her.” she sighed in relief, “God, it feels so good to finally bitch about it.”

You roughly grab her jaw and started kissing her neck, “That was hot.”

She tilted her neck to give you more access and started playing with the hair on the nape of your neck, “If I knew coming clean would end like this, I would’ve done it a long time ago.”

“Wait,” she pulled back, looking you straight in the eyes. “You know its all because I love you right? I don’t want to lose you.”

You pressed your foreheads together and smiled, “It’s me and you against the world forever, Rosie.”

[tigerkirby215]

5e Aphelios, the Weapon of the Faithful build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Pan Chengwei. Made for Riot Games.)

(Shit meme by yours truly.)

Yes I hate Irelia so much I’m genuinely making an Aphelios build before her.

But I really don’t get the “Aphelios too confusing 200 years” memes. Don’t get me wrong his kit’s weird and certainly overtuned but it doesn’t take that long to figure out what his guns do. Calibrum has long range and fires a skill shot, Severum has lifesteal and attacks fast, Gravitum slows and roots, Infernum attacks in a cone for AoE damage, and Crescendum attacks very fast and creates a turret.

Just because I understand this does it mean I can play Aphelios? Fuck no. Did I learn all this from Legends of Runeterra by playing Labs with Aphelios? Yeah kinda. But all I’m saying is that if my stupid support-main ass can do midway decently as Aphelios on free-to-play rotation I really think the hype around him is overblown.

That’s enough hot takes from me. He’s the point where I list 5 goals for this build instead of 3 and make 200 years jokes.

GOALS

Calibrum - We’ll need a long-ranged weapon to harass our foes and pick them off when they try to run.

Severum - If enemies get too close or we get too low we’ll need a way to keep ourselves alive in a 1v1.

Gravitum - We’ll need to control our foes to always stay in an advantageous position.

Infernum - AoE damage is always useful to deal with crowds.

Crescendum - To take down the toughest of foes we’ll need to unleash all our firepower and even get our weapons to fir themselves.

Basically we need literally everything, all packed within 20 levels of D&D and 200 years of game design.

RACE

Aphelios is a human... but ellipsis means that another race makes more sense. Aphelios has his sister advising him wherever he goes in life, so to play two spirits in one a Kalashtar is a good choice! Your Wisdom score increases by 2 and your Charisma increases by 1. Alune’s Dual Mind grants you Advantage on Wisdom saving throws, and her Mental Discipline lets you resist Psychic damage. Alune also keeps you Severed from Dreams, meaning that you’re immune to spells that require you to dream (like the Dream spell) but not spells that require you to sleep (like Sleep.)

Aphelios doesn’t talk (unless you want him to) but Alune can make a Mind Link to speak telepathically with others! You can speak telepathically to any creature you can see that’s within a number of feet of you equal to 10 times your level. You don’t need to share a language with them, but they must be able to understand at least one language. You can also use your action to give that creature the ability to speak telepathically with you for 1 hour or until you end this effect as an action. To use this ability, the creature must be able to see you and must be within this trait’s range. You can only give this ability to only one person at a time however, as it ends when you give it to someone else. Oh and speaking of languages you know Common, Quori (which no one is going to have outside of Eberron lol), and one other language of your choice: Celestial probably makes the most sense but you can pick whatever you fancy.

ABILITY SCORES

15; CHARISMA - You’re a kpop pretty boy, because Aphelios has more guns than body types in League of Legends.

14; WISDOM - I mean you get advantage in Wisdom saves anyways: may as well make the skill good too?

13; DEXTERITY - You are a marksman but we aren’t really using DEX for combat. So in other words: something something Medium Armor.

12; CONSTITUTION - You are one of the squishiest ADCs in the game but you do have enough sustain to keep yourself alive.

10; INTELLIGENCE - You were trained spiritually, as opposed to academically. That being said Religion is an Intelligence skill for some reason.

8; STRENGTH - I mean look at Aphelios’ arms; kid’s a freaking twink.

BACKGROUND

Aphelios fights for him and his sister’s faith in the Lunari... bit unorthodox, but you’re certainly quite the devoted Acolyte. As an acolyte you get proficiency in Religion but I’d replace your proficiency in Insight with Medicine, which you’re probably used to after drinking so much poison. You also learn two languages that you won’t use because Aphelios is mute. (But yeah pick whatever you think will be useful and if you want to feel free to swap your languages for tools or something. A Herbalism Kit or Poisoner’s Kit actually works rather well given your favorite drink to keep close to your sister.)

Alune may be in the Shelter of the Faithful but you can return to the temple from time to time for solace. You and your adventuring companions can expect free healing and care at a temple, shrine, or other established location of Lunari faith (you have to provide any material components for spells though.) The Lunari will support you (but only you) at a modest lifestyle in the temples.

If you’re near your sister’s shrine you can ask the chosen Lunari priests for assistance, provided the assistance you ask for is not hazardous and you remain in good standing with your temple and your sister.

(Artwork by SixMoreVodka Studios. Made for Legends of Runeterra by Riot Games.)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - SORCERER 1

Starting off as a Sorcerer for proficiency in CON saving throws lol, but also for proficiency in Arcana and the Insight skill we skipped from our background. But Sorcerers get to choose their subclass at level 1 and to get closer to the Aspects grab a touch of the Divine Soul. As a Weapon of the Faithful you are Favored by the Gods, letting you add 2d4 to a missed attack roll or saving throw once per Short or Long Rest for a touch of Alune’s guidance. I’m going to mention now that a death saving throw is technically a saving throw, and I mention it because your AC is 11 and your health is 7. Level 1 ADCs, am I right?

Anyways: Divine Souls get Divine Magic for one extra spell from the Cleric spell list: technically you’re supposed to take one of the ones they suggest to you but I’d recommend Guiding Bolt for Calibrum’s Q: a long ranged shot that lets you shoot the target more easily afterwards.

And of course being able to cast spells implies that you have Spellcasting! You can learn four cantrips from the Sorcerer or Cleric list which means you can grab Guidance for a bit more of your sister’s help. You can also grab Word of Radiance to attack everyone near you with Severum’s Q, Acid Splash for some AoE damage from Infernum (should it be doing fire damage? Yeah probably), and Light to see with your dumb Kalashtar eyes. You can also learn two leveled spells like Sanctuary to protect yourself or your allies as long as they act peacefully, and Ice Knife for a more ranged AoE blast from Infernum.

If you want you can grab Mage Armor or something because your AC and HP are kinda uhhhhhhhhhh... trash?

LEVEL 2 - WARLOCK 1

Hopefully you didn’t die as a level 1 Aphelios with 7 HP and 11 AC; we didn’t even get 200 years of damage yet! Warlocks get to choose their subclass at level 1 as well which means you can shape yourself as the Fiend the Solari see you as. Dark One’s Blessing grants you temporary hitpoints equal to your Charisma modifier plus your Warlock level whenever you slay a foe for Severum’s lifesteal and passive shield.

You also get Pact Magic, which is like regular Spellcasting but your spell slots are funny! You can learn two cantrips from the Warlock list like Eldritch Blast to blast while you eldritch, and Chill Touch for some Grievous Wounds. You can also learn two Warlock spells like Burning Hands from the Fiendlock list to blast your foes with Infernum, and Hex to mark your foe for death under the moon.

LEVEL 3 - WARLOCK 2

Second level Warlocks get access to Eldritch Invocations like Agonizing Blast to agonize your blasts, and Lance of Lethargy to slow your foes with Gravitum. You can also learn another Warlock spell like Unseen Servant for some extra sisterly help. I mean, you’re probably going to replace these all next level anyways.

LEVEL 4 - WARLOCK 3

Third level Warlocks can choose their Pact Boon and truthfully? Just about any of them work. Pact of the Blade would be the most “in-character” but your Strength and Dexterity are both kind of bad and you don’t need to use weapons. Pact of the Chain will let you personify Alune on your person and get a shitty version of Crescendum’s turret but Aphelios doesn’t have a pet. Pact of the Tome lets you get Aspect of the Moon which is funny in its own right and more cantrips are universally useful. And hell: even Pact of the Talisman is useful for your sister to lend her aid to someone else in the party. Basically this is an elaborate way for me to say that your Pact Boon doesn’t matter much for this build, as we won’t be using any of the abilities or invocations from your Pact Boon much. So pick what you think will be useful and fun and make your own Aphelios!

With that being said: you can also learn second level Warlock spells now! Shadow Blade will serve as Crescendum’s blade that you can throw at the enemy, but it is based on your DEX which is kind of... bad? Well at least you can replace Unseen Servant with Misty Step, because a summoner’s Flash is more useful than your sister’s unseen help.

LEVEL 5 - WARLOCK 4

Man isn’t it fun to wait until level 5 to not die when the enemy support breathes on you? That uneven Dexterity score was done so you could grab the Moderately Armored feat for +1 to your Dexterity and proficiency in Medium Armor and Shields. Grab both to get hit less, basically!

You can also learn another spell like Hold Person for Gravitum’s root. And another cantrip like Minor Illusion for your sister to summon some props that you can hide behind.

(Artwork by Jennifer Wuestling. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 6 - WARLOCK 5

Hey that Medium Armor doesn’t really fit your outfit: how about the Mask of Many Faces invocation to put on some skins?

Third level spells are also useful! Vampiric Touch will let you heal in close range by damaging your foes with Severum.

LEVEL 7 - WARLOCK 6

6th level Fiend Warlocks get more guidance from Alune. The Solari may call it the Dark One’s Own Luck but all it lets you do is add a d10 to an ability check or saving throw once per Short or Long Rest. I mean hey: if you want a load of saving throw insurance this plus Favored by the Gods basically means you’re adding +10 to a saving throw!

You can also learn another spell but the only ones I’d want have very expensive components. Basically I want a Tasha’s summoning spell for Crescendum’s turret, but you’re going to be replacing it with...

LEVEL 8 - WARLOCK 7

4th level Warlocks can learn Summon Aberration which is a little more than just a turret! You can choose between a Beholderkin turret, Slaad tank, or Star Spawned Aspect! I’m not going to go too deep into this spell as you can read up on it for yourself but the point is you’ve got some backup now!

Alternatively if you want I think your sis could use some friends: Banishment will send them up to the temple where they’ll have to sit around and chat peacefully with Alune. Or if they’re not from the plane you’re in they’ll just be sent home.

Oh and you can also get another Eldritch Invocation like Eldritch Spear to keep your range with Calibrum.

LEVEL 9 - WARLOCK 8

8th level Warlocks get another Ability Score Improvement: you should probably increase your Charisma for more damage and accuracy with your weapons.

Speaking of weapons Dimension Door will let you head back to fountain to buy more weapons, or get out of danger and in range to use your weapons.

(Artwork by SixMoreVodka Studios. Made for Legends of Runeterra by Riot Games.)

LEVEL 10 - SORCERER 2

We’ve gotten all of out basic auto attacks: now I want some of Aphelios’ finer abilities. Second level Sorcerers get a Font of Magic for Sorcery Points which currently do nothing other than let you get more spell slots. You can melt down your Warlock slots however to get more Sorcery points, which will be useful later.

And of course you can learn more spells, but we’re going to wait for...

LEVEL 11 - SORCERER 3

Third level Sorcerers can finally learn Metamagic to empower their spells! You can take Quickened Spell for some Attack Speed, or Seeking Spell for some armor penetration to deal with higher AC enemies.

You can also learn second level spells like Icingdeath’s Frost (UA soon to be in Fizban’s hopefully) to blast foes with Infernum then Gravitum, or Dragon’s Breath to blast Infernum all throughout the fight.

LEVEL 12 - SORCERER 4

Would be good to cap off that Charisma, so go ahead and do so with your ASI.

You can also learn another spell like Spiritual Weapon for a turret you can move around a bit, and a new cantrip like Mage Hand for your sister’s help reaching the top shelf.

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 13 - SORCERER 5

5th level Sorcerers can get some Magical Guidance from their sister to reroll ability checks, because she’s been reading up on Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything.

You can also learn a new spell like Fireball... I mean I really shouldn’t need to justify this. It’s Fireball. Blast them with Moonlight Vigil for a burst of Infernum’s fire!

LEVEL 14 - SORCERER 6

6th level Divine Soul Sorcerers can use their Sorcery Points for Empowered Healing... wait you have healing? Well whenever you or an ally within 5 feet of you rolls dice to heal from a spell, you can spend 1 sorcery point to reroll any number of those dice once, as long as you’re not incapacitated. This technically doesn’t work with Vampiric Touch (since that spell does damage and then heals you based on how much damage it deals) but if your support heals you or a nearby ally there’s no reason not to give them an extra pick-me-up!

You can also learn another spell but I’m going to hop back to second level real quick for Mirror Image. It perhaps doesn’t fit as well (which is why I didn’t take it until now) but it’s very good to keep yourself alive, and as a squishy Lunari boy it’ll be very helpful to make it harder for the enemy to hit you.

LEVEL 15 - SORCERER 7

7th level Sorcerers can learn 4th level spells like Guardian of Faith for a turret that actually stands still! It shoots at anyone who comes close, and when it runs out of ammo it disappears. But what’s cool about this spell is that it lasts for 8 hours, which is plenty of time to rest through the night while your sister watches over you.

LEVEL 16 - SORCERER 8

8th level Sorcerers get another Ability Score Improvement or Feat: seeing as you’re mostly casting War Caster would be a good pickup to keep your Concentration with your bad Constitution and also hit those who come too close with magic. Or you could just get better Constitution maybe since it’s a bit late for War Caster tbh...

You can also learn another spell like Death Ward, for a Guardian Angel that you’re probably going to need seeing as you still have less than a hundred health.

(Artwork by Francis Tneh and West Studios. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 17 - SORCERER 9

9th level Sorcerers can learn 5th level spells like Teleportation Circle to recall back to base or to your sister’s temple. If you know the sequence of sigils to go back to a teleportation circle you can use this spell to link yourself back to it. You can also create a new circle over the course of a year. (And by spending a lot of gold.)

Basically this is my way of saying that we got all we wanted after level 16 tbh and I’m kinda just going through the motions of grabbing your last few levels.

LEVEL 18 - SORCERER 10

10th level Sorcerers get their third Metamagic option! Hurrah! By this point you have enough spells that force saving throws that Heightened Spell is a good option to make it a lot harder for your opponents to resist 200 years of magic!

You can also learn another 5th level spell like Hold Monster for Gravitum’s root against a ganking Fiddlesticks. And another cantrip: I somehow didn’t take Prestidigitation until now, so grab it for all sorts of basic Lunari magic.

LEVEL 19 - SORCERER 11

11th level Sorcerers can learn a 6th level spell! This is going to be your final, highest level spell; your ultimate ability! And I’d consider an ultimate from a fed Aphelios to be a Circle of Death. It’s a huge AoE that does a lot of damage: a simple nuke for a simple ADC that isn’t remotely confusing.

LEVEL 20 - SORCERER 12

12th level Sorcerers get one last Ability Score Improvement or Feat... I’m going to be honest: this doesn’t fit Aphelios but you likely have around 100 HP. Do yourself a favor and grab the Tough feat for 40 extra health.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

For every phase, a weapon - Wow who would’ve guessed building for versatility makes you versatile? You have a huge variety of spells for just about any occasion: AoEs to deal with crowds, single-target spells to take down big foes, crowd control to keep enemies in place, summons to keep enemies targeting them instead of your allies, and of course more than enough damage to shake a stick at.

In your hand; from my heart - Sorcery points also give you plenty of flexibility, notably in your ability to greatly increase damage output thanks to Quickened Spell on Eldritch Blasts and Seeking Spell to reroll missed Eldritch Blasts. But being able to turn your Warlock slots into ammo for your more useful guns is extremely useful and allows you to better adapt to various situations.

I am with you... shining above - Medium armor goes quite a long way! A Breastplate and Shield gives you a solid 18 AC, and if you’re willing to have Stealth Disadvantage upgrading to Half Plate gives you a respectable 19 AC!

CONS

You make yourself a weapon, so you do not have to feel - Skill proficiencies are reserved for those who don’t spend 200 years on damage. You have two skills from your background and two from your class and none of them are particularly great. Sure your Insight and Medicine skills are fine enough but you’re going to be beaten in Arcana by a Wizard and Religion by a Cleric also a Wizard, because Religion is an Intelligence skill for some reason.

Your life upon the altar, brother... - Even with the Tough feat your health is extremely poor. d6 hit die hurt and anyone with Power Word Kill can easily execute you. While I did give you good Wisdom for roleplay’s sake you could (and probably should) opt for Constitution instead.

An omen in your grasp - Your low health is kind of a problem when a lot of your spells force you into close range. There are ways to use spells like Burning Hands, Dragon’s Breath, Shadow Blade, and Vampiric Touch without getting too close (those methods being the Distant Spell Metamagic which we didn’t take; you could totally replace Seeking Spell if you wanted though) but Severum and Infernum are balanced around their low range. There’s no reason you can’t throw balance out the window to take spells that will likely be more useful.

But you are a weapon, sworn to carry your faith and show the world the light in the darkness. Your task is to slay those that deny the right of your people before they even know you are there... Sure confusing them as to what you are even doing is also effective, and I guess it doesn’t matter if your abilities make sense if they’re all dead. They’ll have 200 years to figure out how you killed them: I’m sure that’s plenty of time to read your ability descriptions.

(Artwork by @NAOMM29 on Twitter.)

[pepperpills]

The Harvest - RE8 Fanfic

The Harvest

A Resident Evil 8 fan fiction by Joana

Karl Heisenberg x Female Reader

Notes: heey, so here is another juicy chapter, not much to add to it, though, just hope you enjoy >.<

Warning: NSFW content

Part I - Destiny (1) Part I - Destiny (2) Part II - The Lord Part III - The Hunt Part IV - Soft Torture

Part V - Cry baby

You didn’t remember how you got in that situation in the first place. Of course, Lycans were a normal treat for the Village people, but somehow, they respected the villagers, at least, most of the time. You, on the other hand, wasn’t born among those people. No, your essence was different, you were, in some ways, an outsider and because of that, the cabin people had their shares of nightmares with Lycans attacking their loved ones.

This time, it was about yourself. You heard the roars and your blood went cold. Actually, this sound was a more bestial than the usual, drier than the throaty ones Lycans usually make when calling the others. You were afraid it was a Vârcolac. You didn’t see it, but ran from the source anyway. Maybe you did a mistake, because instead of running to the Village, you took the path to the forest, to the abandoned cabins where you thought you could be safe.

You were hidden in the wreck of your old home. As suddenly as you got there, you knew you were doomed. The Vârcolac was nearby, you could hear its steps breaking through dead branches with a strength you tried not to imagine. You were cold sweating now, it arrived at the cabins and was sniffing around, searching for your smell. You were certain you smelled like fear.

For a moment there, it all went dead silent. Nothing moved, no noise was heard. But you knew it couldn’t have simply disappeared, the Vârcolac was more cunning than you expected. Then, out of nowhere, its huge, dark haired beast head was framed by the remnants of a window above you. The chimera opened its wide mouth, showing its sharp teeth and a terrible, profound roar resonated in your mind, your eyes hypnotised by the view of death coming.

You woke up panting, still feeling the hot breeze of its breath on your cheekbones. You didn’t notice where you were at first, too scared to even understand it was all a bad dream. Heisenberg, who had been sleepy by your side, watching you sleep, promptly sat up with your reaction, wrapping a protective arm around your belly.

“You okay there, sweety?” He asked, making you calmer as soon as you perceived his husky morning voice.

“I had a nightmare.” You confided, burying your face on his collarbone, using his scent to help your nerves.

“Wanna talk about it?” Karl wrapped you in his strong arms, pulling you to his lap as you instinctively hugged him.

“It was stupid, nothing special.” You tried to mask the real terror that consumed you minutes ago.

“Nah.” He clicked his tongue. “Nothing you say is stupid, buttercup.” For that, you smiled, resting on his intense grip.

“I was being hunted by a Vârcolac.” You finally confessed, feeling a bit ashamed of it, imagining that that man wouldn’t understand such human fear.

“Oh, Y/N, no need to be afraid, buttercup.” He smiled back at you; his adorable expression framed by messy grizzled hair locks. “Those damn things are far, you are safe. And I will never let them get any close to you, anyway.” He shrugged as if it was nothing for him to deal with.

Being held and told these words made you significantly less worried. Every obstacle for you seemed easier to Karl and he promised to take care of you. Of course, you wanted to be able to defend yourself and you could do that reasonably well, but with that sort of thing was a lot different. They were mutated beings and you were… Well, only human. In that manner, you felt safe with him, like that, resting in his arms, almost forgetting what had just upset you.

“Thank you, Karl.” You told his neck, pressing gentle kisses on his sweet spots surrounding his Adam’s apple, making him bit the interior of his cheek.

“No problem, kitten.” Heisenberg said, holding your chin with his free hand, making you rise your eyes and gaze at his bicoloured irises.

He leaned towards your lips, taking them in his, kissing you ever so passionately, you could melt in his warmth. You couldn’t get enough of his kisses. Feeling the scar on his bottom lip usually made you shiver, a sweet sensation flooding your entire form. He held you tighter, as if you would slip away at any moment. The man still incapable of believing you choose to stay there, with him, not once finding it a bad experience, as most people would by living in that factory.

You two have spent a lot of time together ever since the incident with the Soldat. At first, he was worried for you walking alone in the downer part of the building. He would check on you frequently when you were reading, listening to his records or even improving your bow, which he found fascinating. You would fetch him at his new office every now and then, maybe teasing him a bit to relax when he was working restlessly – not that you gave him enough time to rest with your recently discovered appetite for him.

He wasn’t too vocal with his feelings, but he made his best on complimenting you every chance he had. You were sure that spending most of his time alone made him a little awkward for that sort of intimate contact, but oh, he has been craving it so much since you set your foot on his factory. He tried to hide it, tell himself it would pass, however as the days went by, it only grew, making his chest rumble with his accelerated heartbeat every glimpse he had of your form.

Now he wouldn’t resist the temptation of falling asleep by your side as you cuddled him, tracing the lines of his scars so softly he would forget about the situations in which he gained them. You made everything cosier, even the daily choirs, the stressful works, if you were by his side, he would feel at ease.

He broke the kiss with a low groan. His eyes now had a starving sparkle enlivening them. Every since your first time with him, you were getting better and better on noticing the signs on his face when he wanted to have you, actually, when he neededto have you. And this time, the man was hungry, his heart desperately claiming your touch, his skin growing more sensitive the more time you spent on his lap.

“Damn, Y/N.” He whispered, bared teeth. “I swear you have some sort of power over me.” Karl proceeded to roughly kiss your jaw line, not certain if he wanted to press his lips on your skin or nip it. He did both.

“Oh, meine Hexe.” He chanted as he laid your back on the bed, you took the opportunity to envelop his hips with your legs, pressing his hardness against your pubic bone. “Meine frech Hexe.” Karl corrected himself, maliciously smirking at your action.

“Karl…” You moaned to his hoarse tone, aroused by his accent.

“What is it, Y/N?” He asked in a teasing way.

“I-I want you.” You cried for him.

“Already, sweetheart?” Karl giggled at your eager countenance, to that you could only nod, biting your bottom lip as he pressed his clothed hard cock against your bud through the thin fabric of your pantie. “What a thirsty whore you are.” He tormented you some more.

As Heisenberg pressed himself against you, doing nothing but rubbing both of your needy arousals for a moment, your hands found his forearms, digging your nails in his skin. He groaned, pinning your arms on the sheets, encaging you underneath him.

“Nah, nah, doll.” He denied you, clicking his tongue. “I like seeing you so desperate for my cock.” Karl leaned only to bite your bottom lip, almost until it bled.

“K-Karl, please.” You begged, moving your hips on his rod on, causing him to moan a bit.

“Argh, kitten, I need to taste you.” He stated, nothing else going on in his head but your flavours.

Karl made you take off his green shirt you’ve been wearing and left a trail of kisses down your abdomen, groping your breasts, pinching your hard nipples with his teeth and later pressing them in between his thumb and index finger. You whined with the contact, feeling a pleasant pinch of pain.

“Kitten, you are perfect.” He let out between his nips, going down on you.

His hands rested on you belly, securing you laying, helpless. He reached your waist line. Karl didn’t hesitate on tugging off your panties, irritated it was hiding the treasure from him. The man almost salivated at the sight of your juicy thighs, soaked due to his touches. Not being able to stop himself, his tongue ran along your clit, making you cry out.

It was only one lick, though, just enough for him to taste your sweetness, an appetizer. Heisenberg smirked at your sulky face, being denied of his tongue. He was interested on your thighs, squeezing them, licking the length until he got so close to your labia, but never really licking it, so you would moan desperately.

The man was going savage with your reactions. Drinking in every sound you let out, cute, tempting whines. He considered teasing you eternally just so he could keep listening, but your cunt was calling for him. He sucked onto your inner thigh, marking you as his. This was somewhat sore, but the warming sensation compensated it, leaving only pleasure to flood your brain.

“Look at the mess you making, kitten.” He commented, laughing at your state.

“All this teasing is gonna make me drown, Karl.” You managed to say in between moans.

“We will see about that.” Heisenberg defied.

As much as he would love to keep working on your thighs, Heisenberg was convinced a good girl like you deserved more attention on other areas. That was when you finally felt his warm, soft tongue on your clit. He wasn’t much gentle, oh no, Karl was starving, feeling his pre-cum slobbering his pants, but he already knew your sweet spots so well, being an eager student when it came to your body.

He was kissing and sucking onto your bottom, having you performing an opera of groans, his tongue making you spasm under the strength of his hands. He didn’t resist anymore, accompanying you with muffled moans, delighting himself on your slickness as he slipped down, on your entrance, licking all your juice.

“That is my good girl.” He called you, getting away from you pussy as he presented two fingers to you, resting them on your bottom lip, separating it from the upper one. “Suck ‘em, kitten.” Karl demanded and you obeyed with lusty eyes.

The sensation of your mouth around his fingers made his cock painfully throb, letting out a moan from him. He wasn’t done playing with you, though. Heisenberg led his fingers inside your cosiness, holding his breath as your walls clutched them, imagining how your pussy would perfectly accept his cock.

You were so wet, he couldn’t believe you got like that all because of him, but he loved it. Karl moved his fingers inside you, they formed a slight hook, reaching your G spot easily, making you cry out. It was starting to feel too much. Then he added his tongue. The stimulation on your clit plus the penetration was getting you closer. He knew it, feeling you squeeze his digits.

“C’mon, girl, come on my fingers.” He animalistic whispered.

You couldn’t hold on any longer, feeling too sensitive around his fingers, willing to come. Your orgasm had you spasming, your body reacting to what he had done to you, giving him a delightful spectacle. He only released you when he was certain you came all the way.

“Open up.” His slobbery fingers pressing against your lips again. You tasted yourself on him like that.

“I want you inside me, Karl.” You said as soon as you could.

“And you will have it, kitten.” He promised, his hands now working on getting rid of his pants.

It was an entrancing sensation to be free at last, his neglected cock feeling the chilly air, in despair to be inside your wet comfort warmness. He rubbed his tip on your clit, enjoying himself on your sounds and humidity. Feeling you like that was testing his limits.

Anytime away from your tightness was too much. Karl grunted with the friction, stopping abruptly. He looked you deep in the eye, the sweetest and hungriest of the looks, his needs for you almost overflowing there. Then he buried himself inside you, all his length easily accepted by you lubricated cunt, making the man groan. He never got tired of your insides, his now favourite place to be.

You took his dick so well, no matter how much it seemed to you, it fit perfectly. He just stayed there for a minute, enjoying the sensation of your walls clutching his cock, which was throbbing with any small friction provoked by minor movements of your hips. Heisenberg was driving you insane, filling you with every inch, so deep inside you.

Karl couldn’t help himself anymore. His teeth met your shoulder, biting hard, at the same time as he started rocking his hips, hitting your pleasure spots like he knew them by heart – and at that point he indeed knew. All you could do was groan with his thrusts, pinching his back with your nails, forcing him to be close, not a centimetre between you too.

His pace was getting feral, his cock coming in and just half out, never willing to let you go at all. You felt just too pleasant, flooding his mind with the sensation of your pussy embracing his length. You were a beautiful mess at that point, helpless with all he had you feeling. One specific angle made you more slick, leading Heisenberg to wail, his beard scrubbing your chest.

“F-fuck, kitten.” He cursed you. “Your pussy takes me so well.” He said, gripping your waist, making you feel him even deeper.

“Karl, you’re too deep.” You cried out.

“Oh, but you can take it, right, kitten? You love it, don’t you?” Karl had you rolling your eyes in delight.

“Y-yes.” You answered, feeling closer to your high.

He felt that, leading his thumb to rub your bud, not as fast as his thrusts, but enough to make you lose your mind, not sure how you could feel so good, but this man had you entirely given on his hands.

“Come to me, kitten, I wanna feel your cunt tightening me.” His wish was an order and so you came with his words, melting in his grip, your belly spasming, to which he smiled with satisfaction.

With you pressing him this much, so juicy, he was feeling himself coming near to his end. Heisenberg let your clit go, both his hands grasping your hips, burying himself in you, shoving his dick in. It hit you multiple times, directly on a special spot, making you shiver. He felt it against his cock as you swung for him.

He had to bit his bottom lip, sounds escaping his mouth anyway. Karl was almost there, you noticed, licking his exposed scarred chest to which he moaned even more.

“Give me it all, Karl.” You begged. “I need your cum inside me, p-please.” You asked, hit by another of his savage thrusts.

It was enough for him, Heisenberg let go, releasing himself inside you, filling you entirely with his delicious cum. You felt the warmth flooding your insides while you ran your nails on his sides. He rested his body on yours, not even thinking of getting out of your embrace.

“That was… Savage, buttercup.” He confided as you started playing with his sweaty hair, his head resting on your chest.

“I could say the same about you.” You giggled, his head moving so your eyes could meet.

“It is your fault you are so delicious.” He played back.

“Well, I can see why your house symbol is a horse.” You shrugged, making him laugh hard.

You two stayed on bed for a while, relaxing after the exercise. Your nightmare’s reactions long gone after the treatment Heisenberg gave you. You almost fell asleep with the man in your arms, only not doing so when he called you to the shower where he proved one more time he really couldn’t get enough of you.

[joonie-beanie]

Masquerade

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader

Word Count: 3,026

Preview: Alcohol leaves the Avatar of Pride a bit less up-tight than usual, which leads to admission of some feelings, and...a bit more.

“I’d be okay with you being selfish. As long as it’s for me—and not just because you’re drunk.”

“I’m far from drunk, I assure you. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

** Please note that this is a cross-posting **

This chapter was originally posted on 2/1/2020 as a part of my “Devil Doms” series on AO3.

Lucifer is…tipsy.

If you asked him, he’d deny it, and act no different than usual. He’s sure that if he had to, he could pull himself together, but…he’s definitely not his regular self.

And it’s all thanks to Mammon.

Sure, Diavolo had been the one to offer him a taste of the coveted, Devildom brewed moonshine—one with a proof so high that it would likely kill a human with a sip—but he knows the original mastermind behind this plan is none other than Mammon.

Lucifer isn’t sure how stupid Mammon thinks he is, but the Avatar of Greed hadn’t exactly been discreet when he’d pulled Diavolo aside upon their arrival and whispered something in his ear.

The future Ruler of the Devildom had decided to throw a masquerade for all of his closest acquaintances, which meant he had invited all occupants of the House of Lamentation. Lucifer had assumed that one of his brothers (more than likely Mammon) would try something during the party, but he hadn’t expected his brother to convince Diavolo to help get him drunk.

Unfortunately for Lucifer, Diavolo is a fan of seeing different sides of him, so he’d agreed to go along with Mammon’s plan. And Lucifer was more than certain that Mammon—that little bastard—had specifically chosen Diavolo to play a role, knowing Lucifer wouldn’t be able to turn down his offering.

So now here he is—feeling a bit warm in his cloak, and suit. Around him, people are dancing—women with their arms wrapped around their partners necks, and men with their hands on their partners waist—

--A familiar figure across the room catches his gaze, and without thinking he struts forward—

But some men’s hands are dipping a bit too low.

“Excuse me,” Lucifer speaks up, a very fake, and obviously malicious smile spreading on his face. “I’ll take it from here.”

The fellow demon—apparently realizing who he is—doesn’t stick around to argue. Satisfied, Lucifer steps in and continues the dance.

You sigh with relief as Lucifer rests his hand appropriately on your waist.

“Your timing is impeccable,” you tell him honestly, a fond smile tugging at your lips as you look up at him. Lucifer wonders if it’s the alcohol that has his heart beating a bit faster, or the radiant glow on your face as he holds you.

“I noticed your partner was getting a bit too…friendly,” he responds, frowning. The tempo of the song picks up, and Lucifer takes the lead—spinning you around and pulling you a bit closer. Unlike with the previous man, you seem comfortable with him—your eyes creasing happily behind your white masquerade mask.

It offsets your black dress—perfectly fitted in all the right places (you’ll have to thank Asmo later)—but Lucifer personally thinks the combination is stunning.

“If any man at this party touches you intimately—come to me. I shall take care of it,” Lucifer tells you seriously. He expects you to roll your eyes, or tell him you can take care of yourself, but instead…he sees your skin flush a bit.

“I mean…aren’t we a bit…intimate right now?” you ask, voice shy. Blinking, Lucifer wonders what you mean by that, until he looks down and realizes that he has unconsciously pulled you even closer during the dance—your chest pressed against his.

…he’s seriously going to kill Mammon later.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, sighing at himself and creating some distance. “I had something to drink earlier, and I’m…”

“Feeling a little touchy?” you respond, a teasing tone to your voice. Lucifer cocks an eyebrow, his lips twitching upward.

“I was going to say that I’m not myself at the moment, but sure.”

Just then, the song ends, and the two of you slow to a stop. For a few seconds, the two of you simply stare at each other—your hand on Lucifer’s shoulder, and his hand on your waist. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. You look like you may want to say something—but you don’t.

So, Lucifer reaches down and takes your other hand, bringing it to his lips.

“Thank you for the dance,” he says.

Your fingers begin to slip from his grasp as he turns to walk away, but you don’t let him get far. Reaching out, you grip his hand tightly.

Curious, Lucifer turns back to face you.

“I…,” you start, your cheeks pink with embarrassment. For a moment, you can’t even look him in the eye.

“If…if it was you, I’d be alright with it.”

Perhaps the alcohol in his body is causing his brain to work a bit slower, or perhaps he simply wants to hear you clearly state what you mean by that, but—

Lucifer steps closer, his hand moving to your waist and guiding you back to him. He’s not sure he’s ever seen you so embarrassed before—gaze looking everywhere but him.

“Are you sure you’d be alright with that?” he questions, his other hand lifting between you. He gently crooks a finger beneath your chin, and your eyes finally meet.

“If so, then say it.”

“I’d be okay with you touching me,” you tell him, and for Lucifer that’s all he needs to hear. He grabs your wrist and leads you out of the ballroom. The music and chatter are left behind as he guides you through the halls of Diavolo’s castle.

You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so hot and flustered. Maybe it had been the atmosphere of the party, or simply the way Lucifer had treated you while dancing that had elicited such a response from you. After all, this wasn’t a revelation or anything—you’d figured out a long while ago that the Avatar of Pride…made you feel a certain type of way.

Offering to hold your hand in scary moments…slight touches here or there when he was proud, or even a bit playful. Eventually, any sort of affection from him had caused your heart to skip a beat. You hadn’t exactly planned on telling him about your feelings, but…obviously tonight you were both being a bit more honest with yourselves than usual.

“How--,” he begins, his deep voice smooth, and enticing as always. Lucifer has led you into one of the many rooms in the castle—your back pressed flush against the door, with him towering over you. “—would you like me to touch you, Y/N?”

“I…want you to touch me however you like,” you respond after figuring out the right words to say. Lucifer hums thoughtfully, his gloved hand moving to grip your thigh where your dress is slit. Immediately goosebumps raise on your skin, and Lucifer takes note—a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Are you sure of that?” His fingers skim against your skin—dragging higher up your leg. “I may be a bit more selfish than you were expecting in this regard.”

“I’d be okay with you being selfish,” you respond with a breathless laugh. “As long as it’s for me—and not just because you’re drunk.”

At that Lucifer can’t help but laugh as well. “I’m far from drunk, I assure you. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Before you can think of a comeback, Lucifer’s lips are on yours. Instinctively, your eyes flutter shut, and your arms lift to wrap around his neck. Lucifer watches your actions through half lidded eyes, his hand subtly moving to caress the inside of your thigh. Instinctively, you part your legs for him—granting him more access, and the demon debates scolding you.

However…as long as it’s for him, he supposes he doesn’t mind.

Lucifer steps forward, his knee moving between your legs in place of his hand—and when he purposefully presses it up against your womanhood—

“Mm--!” you gasp, the sound muffled by Lucifer’s lips. Perhaps thoughtlessly, your body moves downward—trying to grind against his thigh, and the Avatar of Pride realizes his slacks are starting to feel quite tight.

Reaching up, he cups your cheek with one hand and grasps your covered breast with the other. Any moan, whine, or otherwise is swallowed by his tongue. And when Lucifer finally breaks the kiss and leans back to look at you, the sight before him has heat spreading through his limbs like a wildfire.

You’re panting, lips shiny and pink, and eyes blown out with lust. Experimentally, he squeezes your breast and grinds his knee upward at the same time. Immediately your eyelashes flutter, lips parting and head angling back against the door in pleasure.

Lucifer’s Adam’s apple bobs against his throat.

Whatever control he’d been holding onto is now gone.

“Let me have you,” he breathes against your lips. There is a hint of desperation in his tone—one that you’ve never heard from the Avatar of Pride before—and it makes you feel quite hot.

You lock eyes with him, and nod without a hint of hesitation.

In a flash, you’re on the bed across the room. Lucifer is at the end of the mattress, looking very much like a predator stalking its prey. He pulls his leather gloves off with his teeth, and discards them at the foot of the bed along with his cloak. Your eyes never leave him—watching his every movement, and he’s very aware of that.

A devious sparkle in his eye, he reaches forward and runs his hands up your legs. His touch sends a shiver up your spine—his fingers oh-so-gently making their way up your calves, and to your knees. Once there, he hooks one hand beneath your knee and presses it up towards your chest. You flush red at the compromising position—knowing your panties must be wet.

However, if they are, Lucifer doesn’t stop to tease you. Instead, he leans down, his lips meeting the skin on your inner thigh. Languidly, he kisses his way up towards your womanhood—each touch of lips causing your pussy to throb.

And just when he reaches your panty-line, his mouth barely an inch from where you want it to be—he stops. You can’t help the small whine that escapes your lips, and Lucifer chuckles.

“Did you think I’d let you get what you want so easily?” he chides, moving forward. You’re face to face again—the demon nestled between your parted legs, and you can feel his clothed erection on your lower stomach.

“I didn’t think you’d be a tease, since you obviously want it too,” you respond, breath hitching in shock as Lucifer suddenly slides the straps of your dress from your shoulders—your breasts spilling out into the hot air between your bodies.

“As much as I’d love to give into instinct and fuck you until the bedframe breaks--,” a wanton sound bubbles into your throat at the idea, “—I still want to play with you a bit more.”

Immediately, Lucifer’s mouth latches onto your breast—his free hand moving to fondle the other. His tongue flicks over your nipple, and with every lick, you flinch beneath him—your hips rolling against his own.

“Hng--!” you gasp when he suddenly squeezes your breast harshly. Immediately your hips cease their grinding, and Lucifer’s grip lightens. You pant beneath him—his point made.

You’re not allowed to rush this.

And so, Lucifer fondles your chest for what feels like forever—his tongue, teeth, and hands working at the soft flesh. If you could cum from your breasts being stimulated, you’re sure you would’ve gotten off at least twice by now.

“Lucifer,” you whine, one of your hands lifting to card through his hair. He doesn’t stop, but his dark eyes open and peer up at you. His gaze is heavy—lust-filled.

“Please,” you say, and his mouth lifts off of you.

“Please what?”

You feel your face heat up once more, but the arousal pooling between your legs outweighs the embarrassment of telling him what you want.

“Please fuck me. Please, I need it.”

Lucifer pushes himself forward, his lips finding yours in a tease of a kiss.

“Are you sure?”

“I want you to have me, Lucifer,” you respond without pause, your hands lifting to cup his face. You drag him back in for another kiss—and he can sense the desperation on your lips. Despite himself, he moans against you.

The sound urges you on, your hips grinding up against him once more. He bites your lip in retaliation, but doesn’t stop you. Instead, he breaks the kiss, leaning back. Quickly, undoes his belt and works to shed himself of his slacks. It doesn’t take long before he’s bare from the waist down—his black hair disheveled, and the first few buttons of his shirt undone.

You’ve never seen anything so sexy before.

“Oh, fuck. Stop teasing,” you tell him when he leans forward and rubs his cock against your clothed pussy. You bite your lip—seriously too on edge to handle waiting any longer—and Lucifer chuckles.

He supposes he’ll give into you just this once.

Reaching down, he moves your panties to the side. Your folds are glistening for him, and his cock jumps at the sight.

One of Lucifer’s hands moves to brace your thigh—the other grabbing his length as he rubs it against your pussy. When the head of his cock moves against your clit—the bud far too sensitive thanks to his previous teasing—you gasp. Your hands fist in the sheets beneath you, and Lucifer repeats the motion several times—reveling in the way jolt with each touch.

However, just when you’re about to scold him for teasing you more, you feel his cock press between your walls. Your eyes go wide—because god, he’s not exactly small—but the feeling of him stretching you open is second to none.

After a few seconds, your hips are flush together—your pussy throbbing around Lucifer’s cock. He watches the rise and fall of your chest—your back arching off the sheets. He pauses for a second, giving you a short period to adjust, before he rocks back and then in again.

The pace Lucifer sets is slow to start—the drag of his cock between your walls heavenly. He rests his free hand on your lower stomach, his thumb reaching down to rub at your clit.

“Mm,” you moan, your walls tightening around him as he continues to rub circles against the aching bundle of nerves.

“Lucifer, more, please,” you whine, one of your hands lifting to grab his shirt. He allows you to drag him in for a kiss, and the second your lips meet, he fulfills your request.

Your cry is muffled against him—lewd, wet sounds filling the room as he nearly doubles his pace.

Lucifer is the first to break the kiss, and you fall back against the mattress. You keen, one hand returning to fist in the sheets while the other takes hold of his dark hair. He watches you with passion burning in his eyes—soaking in the sight of you.

The swell of your breasts—your prettily parted lips. Your flushed cheeks, and the way your legs twitch at every thrust.

Fuck.

A moan threatens to escape you as Lucifer pounds into you particularly hard—his thumb still working at your clit. With every passing second, you feel pleasure pooling in your gut—like a wire gaining tension and threatening to snap.

“L-Lucifer,” you manage to speak, and his eyes flit to your face. “I’m—I’m getting close.”

“I am as well,” he responds, and briefly pauses in his rhythm. You blink, wondering what he’s doing as he grabs your hips and adjusts your position ever so slightly. However, the second he thrusts into you a moan leaves your lips; you don’t mind that he had stopped.

“There it is,” he chuckles, and you hate him in that moment. Grinning above you—his cock dragging you into the depths of pleasure with every stroke. How dare he.

“Fuck, Lucifer--!,” You gasp, your skull thrown back against the mattress. Every movement has the bed frame creaking, but at the moment neither of you care about how much sound you’re making. You’re both too close to climaxing to think of anything else.

“Come for me, Y/N,” he tells you, and you’re helpless to obey. The tension in your gut spills over, and you lose it. With a cry, you come undone around him.

The feeling of your pussy pulsing around cock, and the fucked-out look on your face as you cum is enough to get Lucifer there as well. With a grunt, he thrusts into you one last time—a bit breathless as he empties his load inside of you.

For a minute, the only sound in the room is that of your and Lucifer’s panting. You lock gazes once your highs have subsided.

Without any exchange of words, he leans down and kisses you between your eyebrows—his softening cock slipping out of you at the same time.

“Do you think the others have noticed that we’re gone?” you giggle after a beat of silence, and Lucifer breathes a laugh.

“With all the people at the party, I would think not. But…then again…,” he pauses, sitting back. His eyes rake your disheveled form, and he quietly stores the sight in the back of his mind. “Considering he tried to get me drunk, Mammon may have.”

“Well…if he did notice, it will be kind of like revenge, right?”

Lucifer cocks an eyebrow at you. “Explain.”

“Despite saying he hates me, he’s obviously a bit…protective.”

Lucifer rolls his eyes at your wording.

“So, if he realizes both you and I were gone together…he’ll think that something happened—which it did, but he doesn’t need to know that—and get jealous.”

Lucifer stares at you, considering the idea. Then, with a chuckle, he leans in to kiss you once more.

“What a devious girl.”

“You like it,” you retort, whispering against his lips. “And me.”

“True,” he responds, and cups your cheeks between his palms. His eyes sparkle playfully. “And that’s why I won’t be sharing you with anyone else.”

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 3)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2686 Warnings: none unless you count awkward/cringeworthy moments

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: This is a slow burn people so sit tight! A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira​ Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 2 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

You paced in your apartment for a few minutes, debating what you should do. The gift card was a lovely gesture but you can’t accept it, Bucky is a stranger even if he’s your neighbor, and even though he inconvenienced you it would be wrong to take this.

But then again, maybe he really meant no harm at all and it would be rude not to accept this. It certainly would be put to good use.

All of these thoughts raced through your mind as you walked the length of your apartment. The walls truly were thin and you knew Bucky was home, meaning if he heard you come home then he knew you had the gift card. Was he expecting you to thank him?

Fuck it, you’re going over there. You went to the bathroom to make sure you looked alright. You aren’t sure why you cared so much but you quickly brushed your teeth and dabbed a bit of perfume on your pulse points. With a final look at yourself in the mirror you put your phone in your back pocket, grabbed your keys and the gift card and shut your door.

Your teeth were clenched as you made a fist and knocked at Bucky’s door, holding your breath as you heard him shuffle towards the door to answer it.

“Y/N, hey!” Bucky seemed surprised to see you.

His hair was loose, falling on his shoulders. The blue of his t-shirt brought out his eyes, even in the dimmed hallway lighting.

“Hey Bucky,” you replied easily, as if the words fell naturally from your lips. Holding up the gift card you smiled and Bucky mirrored the gesture.

“I see you got it.”

“Yes, thank you. This was really sweet but honestly you didn’t have to do this.”

Bucky lifted his arm to rub the back of his neck, exposing part of his waist as his shirt ran up. Your eyes couldn’t help but catch the deep V line sculpted on his body, making you unconsciously lick your lips. As Bucky spoke you lifted your eyes to meet his again.

“I felt really bad. I didn’t mean to be a shitty neighbor. I’m not really used to this.”

“Having neighbors?” you asked with a giggle.

Bucky smiled. “Not ones so close.”

“That’s the city for ya,” you said awkwardly, looking everywhere else except Bucky.

“So listen,” Bucky began, clearing his throat. “You just got back from class right? If you wanted, how about I make you a cup of coffee? I definitely owe you a lot, even more than the gift card.”

The thought of having coffee with the embodiment of sex on legs made your knees wobble. You politely said you couldn’t impose.

“You wouldn’t be. I was about to make a pot myself, I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

There probably should have been more insisting on your end, saying that you couldn’t come in because you also have a lot of work to do but somehow your mouth had a mind of its own as you agreed to coffee.

You wanted to keep things light, and so as you followed him inside you joked, “How do you get any work done with all that music?” but the moment you stepped into his apartment you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

Bucky’s apartment was a mirror of yours with his bed and couch placed in the same spot against the wall, though it felt smaller with the dark taupe covering the walls, but what really made things feel cramped were the instruments scattered all over the apartment.

Several guitars were hung along the brick wall with a variety of amps on the floor. A large keyboard was laid out on the trunk that served as his coffee table in front of a black leather couch. An electronic drum kit sat beside a large desk, with wires attaching to a device beside his computer.

“Music is my work.”

You were stunned into silence, feeling completely stupid for asking him to not play music when you were home. You wanted to turn around and go back to your apartment where you could shake away the cringey feeling that rooted itself into your bones.

“Ohh,” you managed to squeak out.

“Yeah…” he trailed off, baring his teeth for an awkward smile at your revelation. “But don’t worry about the sound, I went out earlier and got headphones.”

Bucky turned to hold up a bag from the floor and you recognized the name of the professional audio shop.

“I never needed them before. My old landlord had lost most of her hearing so my music never bothered her.”

Bucky turned to the small kitchen counter to start preparing the coffee. He hadn’t offered you to sit, not that you saw a chair, so you stood watching his shirt cling to his muscles as he reached up to open the cabinets. They were different from yours, their honeyed tone showing a little age but not old by any means.

He pulled down a small coffee maker that was clearly made for a single person. You’ve already had more cups of coffee today than that tiny thing can produce in a sitting. Bucky was an obvious bachelor, even if you didn’t know about the revolving door of women you could see it in the way he kept his place.

He had been here just over a month but the apartment looked as if he had been settled in for years. Beside the bag he previously held up were others filled with things that hadn’t been put away. His bed wasn’t made, but the dark blue comforter was mostly strewn over the mattress with just the corner pulled a little too low.

His TV was opposite the bed on a dresser whose bottoms drawers hung open, with a bunched up shirt preventing the middle one from fully closing. Things weren’t dirty, it just needed a good tidying. Behind you was a large bookcase, with each shelf overstuffed with books and graphic novels, loose music sheets spilling out from the top, a few Funko Pops and some other knick-knacks.

“Milk and sugar?” he asked, turning around as one hand gripped the handle of the refrigerator.

You nodded with a smile as you continued to observe his apartment. Above the couch was a large framed poster of the movie Psycho and briefly recalling the conversation you heard this morning you really hoped he was actually talking to his mother.

“Shit.”

You turned around to find Bucky watching you stare at the poster, though his eyes moved to the couch.

“I’m sorry, I should have asked you to sit down,” he said, apologizing for his manners as he moved the keyboard off the trunk and on to his desk. “I don’t usually have people over.”

You both know his statement was a lie; he has people, women specifically, over every night but what he meant was he doesn’t usually entertain.

The couch scrunched under his weight as he sat beside you, handing over a mug of steaming coffee. He warned you it was hot and so you held it as the ceramic heated your skin before placing it on the trunk. Bucky had done the same and so you felt comfortable enough to do so as well, even though asking about a coaster would have been just as simple.

“So you mentioned you’re in school. What are you studying?”

You were aware of how close his knee was to yours as he turned to face you. Nerves made you grab the cup of coffee first, sipping on the still too hot liquid before answering.

“I’m going for my MSW. I’m nearly finished too, I just have this last class before I somehow have to fit a ton of hours for an internship into my schedule which is a little difficult to figure out.”

“You work full time too, right? It must be hard doing both.”

Bucky’s blue eyes were focused on you, deeply staring into your own. All you could do was nod your head in response. He was enchanting, clearly a great listener; it’s no wonder he can charm the world into his bed.

You fell into a conversation about Stark Industries and how you came to work there, going to school part time as you worked to pay the rent.

“It feels like I’ve wasted so much time because of the road I had to take. I keep picturing myself at the end, finally graduating, knowing all the stress and sleepless nights were worth it.”

Bucky watched as the passion you had for social work poured off your lips. There was something deeper than wanting to be handed a diploma, he could see the fire burning in your eyes that you had for this field, something you left unsaid.

“I’m sorry, again, if my music kept you up and distracted you.”

“No, I’m sorry Bucky. I was rushing to class this morning and I probably could have said things in a better way.”

You shared a quick smile with him, bringing the mug up to your lips to mask the way your cheeks wanted to stay pulled tight to cement the smile on your face. Staring at Bucky made you feel giddy and warm all over.

You suddenly realized how long it’s been since you’ve hung out with a man that isn’t Steve. With all your school work keeping you busy you hardly had any time to notice what was missing in your life, not until now where you felt butterflies fluttering away in your stomach. Wow, you definitely needed to get out again.

“So you said music is your work, what do you do?”

Bucky tipped the mug back to finish the last drop of coffee, before smoothing his fingers over his lips.

“I’m a composer actually.”

Well that was unexpected. You definitely judged Bucky too quickly, with the loud music and louder women. Without seeing him you figured he was some punk in a band, who stayed up all night and didn’t give a shit about his neighbors because he wanted to live out the party lifestyle of a wannabe rock star. But as Bucky explained you found out he was so much more than that.

From a young age he was musically gifted, picking up melody and sounding it out by ear as he sat in front of the piano. His mother Winifred had also played and taught him what she could until Bucky’s enthusiasm for playing outgrew the time and knowledge she had to teach him. She and his father George hired a piano tutor who noted how talented Bucky was, especially for a young child.

Bucky’s ambitions grew as he wanted to learn more instruments, guitar, violin, percussion.

“I can’t do horns,” he joked, not having the patience to practice proper breathing for the brass instruments.

Bucky has been composing music since the days you were pining over boy bands, selling his first work to a commercial for an international airline.

“Wow, I feel like the biggest asshole for telling you to stop.”

Bucky chucked at your admission, “It’s okay Y/N, really. I should have realized I’m not in Long Island anymore. I promise to use the headphones for every instrument that I can.”

“Thanks Bucky,” you smiled, sighing a breath of relief although you still felt embarrassed. While trying to lift the weight of guilt you somehow made it worse. “I’m sure our other neighbors would appreciate that too.”

Bucky’s face twisted with concern. “Shit. Have they complained too?”

Your palms covered your face as you shook off your stupidity. Why was this man making you say all the wrong things?

“No, not in a bad way,” you tried to convince him. “Have you met Clint? A bit shorter than you, dirty blond hair.” Bucky shook his head back and forth. “You must have seen his fiancée then, beautiful redhead, Natasha?”

Again, Bucky shook his head. “Well they live above you.”

Bucky cringed at the thought. If you heard all the noise they certainly have as well.

“So it’s actually kinda funny…” you began, telling Bucky that Clint takes his hearing aids out when he was playing. “They’re both really nice, you should say hello if you see them. Plus now I can tell Clint I won our unofficial bet.”

Bucky’s head quirked with curiosity. “Well, he called you the Guitar Hero,” you admitted, watching a smile form on Bucky’s face.

“I don’t just play guitar,” he said proudly.

You smirked, “I know. That’s why I was calling you the Music Man.”

Bucky’s hair blanketed his face as he tipped his head forward to laugh at your nickname. When he sat up again you noticed the crinkles around his sparkling eyes, and the way he smiled from ear to ear showed off perfect teeth, beautifully bright against the beginnings of dark stubble that started to fill in along his jaw.

Butterflies swirled around your stomach like a tornado as your heart rattled against your chest. This sensation was bubbling up the longer you stared at Bucky. Why were you feeling this way? You couldn’t distract yourself, not with a man, especially not this one.

“I get it now, the walls are thin,” he stated, still shining that beaming smile.

Your brain jolts to life again, as common sense starts to combat the small army forming to defend your developing crush. Your brain wins this round however, as you remind yourself the noise wasn’t just about the music.

“Oh yes they are. Our beds are on the same spot on the wall,” you said, raising your eyebrows and widening your eyes to infer what you were talking about.

Bucky’s cheeks blush a deep shade of pink with embarrassment. “Oh… I’m….” He’s too nervous to apologize for what you both know you’re referring to.

“I wear headphones to sleep to drown out the noise.” Great, just keep making it worse Y/N. “But on the bright side, the banshees all sound like they’re enjoying themselves.” Nope, that didn’t help at all.

Fear of saying something even worse had you quickly fumble up an excuse to leave, telling Bucky you had a paper to work on so you thanked him for the coffee and practically ran back to your apartment, dreading every future interaction you would have with him.

Later that night Bucky opened the door for a woman who swayed inside with determination. He offered her a beer and with lust in her eyes Dot licked the neck of the bottle before bringing the top to her lips. Bucky turned away, shuddering with embarrassment at how hard this girl was trying.

He knows what she wants, what they all want but Bucky hasn’t believed in relationships for a very long time. It’s something that works for other people whereas he enjoys the physical connection; release your needs and move on.

Bucky wished he cancelled tonight. He felt… awkward after you left. It made him shift his bed forward a few inches away from the wall. He didn’t realize just how much his entire presence has affected you.  

With his arms caged beside Dot’s head he moved above her, thrusting his hips and checking to see that the bed didn’t touch the wall as his motions rocked it. Her nails dug crescents into his back as she began to cry out in pleasure. Bucky forced his lips against hers, an action she felt in her heart but Bucky just wanted to shut her up, hoping you hadn’t heard her.

Shutting the door behind Dot who begged to stay Bucky went to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his heated skin. His reflection stares back at him but he doesn’t want to look, wondering why his mind has been wandering to places he doesn’t want it going. He dries his face, letting the towel hang over the sink as he shuffles back to bed, staring at the wall for a few lingering moments before he turns over and hopes sleep will come quickly.

PART 4

[samingtonwilson]

Sweet Creature

Summary: sam is in love with the girl at the front desk of the VA, but he has the ability to help-- so he will. (named after the harry styles song but not ENTIRELY based off it. takes place pre-TWS, through AOU, until right before CW) 

Pairing: sam wilson x reader

Warnings: language. NSFW, sexual content, 18+. very slightly angsty.

A/N: i don’t usually write smut and here i am, writing 2 sex scenes in one one-shot. anyway sam wilson is an angel who has been through a lot and is still full of love.

gif below isn’t mine.

She’s hired in autumn and it’s like color bursts with every step she takes. 

Dull grayscale fades into red and yellow leaves, orange and pink sunsets. The burning sun finally cools, grains of desert sand stuck to his every memory slowly trickle away with the chilly breeze. Jack-o-lantern grins hurt his cheeks less, words exchanged over lukewarm coffee now spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg come easier. 

He hears the whistling of birds at dawn without the thought of malfunctioning wings, sleeps in a bed of softness without an ironic longing for dirt and rock mattresses under attacking stars. 

He falls in love in autumn. And smiles.

A smile that’s gap-toothed and silly by winter. A smile that brings warmth and sweetness to bitterly frozen December mornings. One which he offers her as he slides a cardboard cup across her desk, a white napkin tucked underneath it. 

She sees him listen in winter. Sees him as he lets others bleed on him while he bandages himself in silence. 

She hears him give heavy advice with a lightness that makes the others chuckle, like glittering rays of sunlight tearing through the blanket of clouds which is spread by mid-afternoon nowadays. 

He demystifies plastic bags that resemble harbingers of death, dispels blame and shamefully missed opportunities in favor of forgiveness and acceptance. He offers ribbon to tie a broken heart together, balm to ease the tightness of guilt. 

And it’s all done real easy. Pain isn’t discounted. It’s merely no longer thought of as the sublime mountain range of Romanticism. It’s real and surmountable, it has a slow-acting— but acting, nonetheless— antidote. There is liberty to be attained. Enlightenment.

There’s hope. A word which had lost its meaning until it’s said with those hot cocoa eyes and that woolen smile. A word that hurts less each time it’s used. 

She watches him radiate heat in the form of realistic optimism in winter. And falls in love. 

They’re setting up chairs one morning in spring. Half-past eight, the smell of percolating coffee and a greasy pink box of donuts in cool air. Sam’s phone is connected to the AUX cord, it plays something bluesy. A little sleepy sounding, but infinitely smooth. 

It reminds her of his voice as he greets her each weekday morning, his smile a saxophone solo and laughter a symphony. 

“I’ve been thinking.” 

Setting a chair beside the one Sam has just unfolded, she smiles. “That’s never a good sign.”

Deep brown eyes narrow in playful annoyance. “Cute.” 

“I’m aware.”

“I want to take you out.” 

She stills, rubber caps fastened to the end of the chair legs like boots are suspended just above the floor. Her eyes meet Sam’s as he stands a few feet away. He wears an effortless, confident smile and she stifles one back. Albeit miserably. “That’s what you’ve been thinking about? Asking me on a date?” 

“Among other things.” 

Something about the way he says it, that soft glimmer in his eyes and slyness in his smile, makes heat rise to her cheeks. She doesn’t look away, though. Simply narrows her eyes and sets the chair down. “Yeah? Like what?” 

He leans in her direction to take a folded chair from the rack behind her. She can smell his cologne, feel the warmth which rolls off him in waves, and something in her seems to catch on fire. Softly, he replies, “Say yes and we’ll talk about it on the date.” 

“Bribes don’t work on me,” she says, nose wrinkled as it almost bumps against his. She smooths his collar with nimble fingertips, gently brushing the cotton of his button-up. 

He watches as she looks up at him through her eyelashes and he nearly loses his balance— clumsy at the sight even as he stands still. 

“Give me until the end of the day to think about it?”

“Take as long as you want,” he breathes before he can help it, practically putty. 

Her nod comes with a smile. Something gentle and sweet. Steps slow and casual as she walks to the door. 

“Sam,” she calls, fingers wrapped around the wooden doorframe. Everything about her posture speaks to a reluctance to leave, a reluctance to follow that stupid advice from her old college roommate to mask eagerness. She grins when he looks up from the coffee he’s pouring. “I want you to take me out, too.” 

He grins as well. The coffee pot is set back down and he slips his hand into his pocket. Casual. 

Right? 

He hopes so. “You free tomorrow night?” 

“Tomorrow night?” she repeats with a laugh. Colorful against the beige walls, scuffed tile floors. “A little eager?” 

A shrug. Casual. 

But the look he gives her? Far from. “Maybe.” 

She looks away with a frown of consideration. Sends a smile to one of the regulars of Sam's sessions as he slides past her to enter the room with a short wave in greeting, sun-creased fingers and anemia-paled nails a brief flourish. “How about tonight then?” 

The gushing red of the first date seems to bleed into the second. 

The days between pass with sly looks, smiles hidden behind coffee cups and wrapped around smoothie straws. It’s as if his eyes have remained in hers since that night over a dinner she can’t remember the taste of. That same glimmer, that same miserably hidden desire and elation she knows are in her eyes, too. 

He touches her more in those days when the sun lingers a bit longer and the petals of flowering dogwood blossoms stick to the bottom of her shoes. Deep amber toned skin meets hers when a thumb sweeps over her knuckles, when a hand is placed at the small of her back, when fingers tangled together are hidden between them as they walk to the Hall C vending machine together— whispers about no other vending machine having the ginger ale she likes. 

There’s longing in those touches and whispers. In the looks exchanged across the lobby of the VA. In his posture as he stands in her doorway, a single long stem white rose in his hand. And especially in his gaze as he scans the length of her, done up all pretty for a movie he doubts he’ll be able to pay attention to. 

It’s just as well, though, as they don’t make it to the movie.

She invites him in, mumbling something about needing to fasten an earring, and forgets about it as soon as he takes a step to invade the space she’s kept open for him all along. 

A gentle breath when she thinks her eyelashes might caress his skin before she can and her laugh is a little nervous when she plucks the rose from his gentle grip. “I should put this in water.” 

He nods, but neither of them move. It’s only a second that his eyes slip a glance to her lips. But in that second he’s conveyed the shakiness in both their chests and the rose is forgotten at her feet as his lips claim hers. 

Warm fingers curve around the nape of her neck, holding her steady as he pours every bit of longing and withheld desperation into the kiss. She grasps the softness of his thin sweater in her fists and pulls him closer, smiling against his lips when a groan is ripped from his chest. 

A blind kick— one which has Sam worried that he’ll put a hole through her wall— shuts the door and a graceful spin has her back pushed into the splintering wood she’d painted turquoise a week after moving in. 

The brass knob digs into her side but it’s entirely ignored. All she can perceive is every solid, stone-like inch of his body— hot like fire beneath burgundy cotton— pressed against her, his soft but urgent lips moving with hers. 

It’s another minute, hour, decade perhaps of firecracker heat before he breaks the kiss. He smiles at the weight keeping her eyes closed, forehead lazily set against hers. He visually traces the slight swelling of her lips, the smudged gloss he’s sure is smeared over his own mouth in a thin, shiny layer on her cupid’s bow and the skin below her bottom lip. 

She sweeps her tongue over it, as if it’ll help bring her back to Earth. Her eyelashes flutter up toward her brows. Irises a mere ring around pupils blown wide, she gazes at deep brown eyes just barely honeyed by overhead bulbs. 

He watches his thumb glide over her cheek, feather-light over her lips. Commits the image and feel to memory. 

There’s amazement in his eyes. Perhaps at the confirmation that she is just as soft as he’d imagined. Perhaps at the feeling of finally. And, through harsh breath, his voice is hoarse as he says, “The movie’s in twenty minutes.” 

Before she can reply, he presses a kiss to her left temple, her left cheek then her right. Another kiss at the corner of lips now pitched upward and smooth lips glide over her jaw, then just below. She cranes her neck for him. “I have movies here.” 

His smile is felt rather than seen and it inspires one of her own. A strong arm winds around her waist, tight and answer enough. But, once he’s kissed his way to her lips again, he voices one anyway, “Even better.” 

She closes whatever centimeters of distance separate their lips and sighs when his hands slide behind her thighs, lifting her so that she can hook her legs around his waist. Her arms wrap around his neck and, somehow, she feels as if they aren’t close enough. Not with the layers of fabric separating them, not as he stands only feet from her door. 

His step backwards is hesitant, slow. 

“Down the hall,” she tells him, lips brushing his, “first door to the left.” 

His eyes open, but struggle to remain so when she presses kisses everywhere he had. Barely a foot past the hall entryway, she nips the skin beneath the hard line of his jaw a bit harshly. A soft hiss through his teeth and her tongue soothes the sting. It has his steps faltering until he presses her against the wall to join their lips in a deep but quick kiss. 

Her bedroom door is ajar and requires only the gentle push of her fingers to allow them through. The setting sunlight streaming through her drapes paints patches of her white comforter a deep gold, shining over her mirror and closet door. 

Everything about the space is warm and inviting. From the rumpled grey faux fur throw blanket and the floral rug placed before her bed, to the melted candles in glass jars and sloppily made porcelain vases he thinks she must have thrown and glazed herself. 

He lowers her onto the bed, surrounded by fluffy pillows haphazardly thrown near the headboard, and firmly kisses her lips— but only for a moment. “Baby, are you—” coffee brown eyes pop open to meet hers. “Are you sure? We don’t have to—” 

“I know we don’t have to.” Her nose wrinkles before she smiles up at him, sun outlining her features. “It might be a little soon, but I’ve wanted this for a while.” 

He grins in return. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“So have I.” 

She narrows her eyes. A jesting glare, a contradictory smile. “And you waited this long to tell me? Disgraceful, Wilson.” 

“I’ll make it up to you.” The pitch of his voice is lowered, he ducks his head so his lips skim the skin behind her ear. He hears the hitch in her breath when his teeth scrape a particularly sensitive spot and shifts his weight so his hips rock into hers. “Over, and over, and over.”

The grind is faint. Barely there. But her mind reels, her nerves spark. Voice a mess of sighs, she asks, “How do you plan on doing that?”

“Guess you’ll have to be patient and see,” he says, but only once he’s nudged his nose against hers. Spared a long look into her eyes. Watched as her tender bottom lip is bitten.

His hands— such, such good hands, all warm and strong and safe— are everywhere. One grips the tip of her chin to mould their lips together, one skims bare skin just below the hem of her shirt. Fingers soft and the press of them gentle, blunt nails run up her side to follow the curve of her waist, tracing the band of her bra and just barely along the underside of a lace cup. 

He tips her chin upward to trail his lips to her throat. She gasps at the feel of a bite, the lap of a tongue just as his fingers pop the button on her jeans, and the muscles in her abdomen contract as he moves lower. 

His hands now push the knit fabric further and further up— slowly, inch by inch— until, in impatience, she lifts her shoulders and strips it away. Chin set just above her waistband, Sam grins at her. His low laughter is more felt than heard. “A little eager?” 

He’s met with a glower as she reaches back to unclasp her bra and toss it aside— and it only makes him laugh harder. However her frustration is merely a thin veil. A veil which has gone sheer the moment she struggles against a smile. 

Though there hasn’t been a loss of the heat in either of their eyes, their movements are now decidedly unhurried. The drag of his knuckles as he pulls black denim and lace the color of marigolds over her ass and down her legs once he’s tucked his shoulder under her thighs. The slow lift of his gaze as he seems to study every inch of her. The path of his lips and tongue from her belly button to her breasts to her lips. And the languid kiss that follows. 

Her leg hooks over his hip and, though she breaks the kiss, she speaks against his lips, “You’re a little overdressed.” 

Feeling him smile, she pushes against him and manages to roll him onto his back so her knees dig into the mattress. A playfully smug waggle of her eyebrows and she giggles— and, oh, he thinks his heart might burst at that. At the sight of her disheveled and a little scuffed from his ministrations. At the sight of her so bare and vulnerable, but so trusting and strong and happy.

He stares up at her, not hiding any bit of wonder or love, as she imitates the way he’d pushed the fabric of her shirt up her torso until he pulls it off the rest of the way. When she leans over him to kiss him once more, his hands cup her face to hold her there, barely registering in his mind how she unbuckles his belt and undoes his jeans. 

Thoroughly kissed silly, she presses swollen lips to his jaw, his neck, shimmying lower until she’s knelt between his legs. A lift of his hips helps her remove the bothersome fabric and she gives him a slow study of her own. That deep shade of his skin— interrupted only by a few lifted scars littered over his chest— seems to glow and reflect the golden shade of sunlight. Early evening sunlight which brightens already sparkling eyes, an already shining smile. 

Just as she makes to lean down a bit, intending to teach him the feel of his hard length down her throat, he sits up, fingers comb through her hair to guide her lips back to his. 

His arm then wraps around her waist and he pulls her into his lap, those soft, deliberate fingers slipping between her legs. The kiss gains further urgency when she moans into his mouth. When she rolls her hips to grind against his fingers. When he slips in a finger, then two, as his thumb moves against her clit and she arches into him. 

A slight lift of her hips only to bring them back down, Sam’s lips are at her neck now. A stroke of his thumb, a curl to his fingers as they’re thrust deep inside her. Her whimper is broken, a little choked as her walls tighten around his fingers. “Fuck. God, Sam.” 

He looks up at her. Stares at the shadow her eyelashes cast over her cheekbones, the plumpness of her parted lips, that wrinkle of tension between her brows. His hand moves faster, impatient as if he can feel the tight coiling in her stomach, the heat slowly creeping through her limbs. 

A whine escapes his throat as she practically shivers at a particularly slow, purposeful stroke of his thumb. “There we go, baby. Come on, I’ve got you.”

She says something. Something she herself doesn’t grasp. Stutters it, stammers it, slurs it.

Arm resting on his shoulders, her nails dig into his back harshly as the coil snaps. All at once. Walls fluttering, pulsing around thick fingers. Heat impossibly higher in trembling legs and tense arms. 

But it’s not enough. 

Not until, a slight burn and quiver in her thighs, she rises to her knees and grasps him at the base. She swallows over the thickness in her throat as she twists her wrist in a slow stroke of her own. Over his answering shudder, she says, “Condom.” 

A steadying breath. “I’ve got one in my wallet.”

He looks over her shoulder to the floor where the dark denim has been carelessly tossed and nearly whimpers.

Then she giggles. Presses herself closer and tilts a little to the left to reach into a drawer in the bedside table. She tears the package and seems to go purposefully slow as she rolls the latex down the length of him, smiling as her hand, loosely gripping him, sweeps back up and he softly groans. “Did you come here with expectations, Sam?” 

“Just precautionary.” 

Another laugh and a skeptical, “Uh-huh.”

So stiff she feels empathetic pain, she sinks down on him with little resistance. A bit of a lift, then down further. 

She, resisting the downward pull of her eyelids, watches him. As his eyes close, lips part, chest falls. All as he sighs. A loud rumble of relief from deep in his chest. 

He hits a point so far inside of her, it very nearly hurts. So thick, she feels she might have been split in two had he not taken the edge off so expertly. 

And he finds himself having to regulate his breaths. Not to choke at the silky feel of her stretched around him. Not to embarrass himself so quickly because it’s been so long. Since he’s had sex, yes— but especially since he’s felt anything near what she inspires in him, from wonderment to adoration, from blissful to so much love. 

“You doin’ okay?” through light laughter, she asks. Her voice is not much more than an exhale and there’s a soft squeeze around him. Not nearly at the strength of his fingers on her hips, though, bruising and stilling as she experimentally rolls her hips. 

She can’t help her smile at the hissed grunt he lets loose, at his own reacting laughter— dry, a little embarrassed. “Gotta give me a second, baby.” 

It’s only a few seconds— seconds she spends familiarizing herself with the heavy weight of him inside of her— before those same hands beckon movement. First by adjusting her legs so she crosses her ankles behind his back, then by pulling her impossibly closer.  

She pulls off of him inch by inch, sighs a moan at the slow drag of him, and whimpers at the snap of his hips, his voice gruff as he grinds out, “Fuck. You feel so fucking good.”

He punctuates the statement with a hard thrust, drawing a gasped whimper from her, and effectively takes control as his hands guide her hips forward and back. One hand, however, slides across her skin to her neck, his fingers curving around her nape and tangling through knotted hair to pull her into a messy kiss. 

She pants against his lips, kiss broken when his hips— definitely showing off— take on a somewhat circular motion as he thrusts. Her head tips back as he relearns the taste of her throat. 

His teeth scrape that spot he’d learned about just a few minutes— although it feels like a lifetime— ago just as his fingers slide between her legs, carefully passing over that bundle of nerves before pressing down fully with rapid movements. 

It’s as if that firecracker heat now sparkles up her spine, back arching into him as her vision seems to white out. Her walls tighten, her moans broken. 

“God, fuck.” His voice is harsh. Deeper than usual as he watches himself disappear inside her, each thrust more difficult than the last with the way she clamps down harder. 

He tries to stall the warmth that spreads through him, tries to hold himself back, but as his eyes trace every bit of her before focusing on the way pleasure twists her features, he thinks he might snap. Voice now verging on revelatory, he breathes, “So fuckin’ good, so perfect.” 

“Sam— Sam, I’m—” 

He doesn’t voice how thankful he is. Doesn’t praise the heavens aloud because fuck knows he wasn’t going to last much longer at all. 

He thrusts deep, hard. Sweet words mere babble against her lips, hips and fingers working quicker until—

His name is a mantra. The mingling of kaleidoscopic visions beneath shut eyelids and alight sandalwood incense nerves a kind of meditation. 

“Goddamn.” He slows but doesn’t stop working his hips against hers. The sounds from his throat blending with hers as he feels the quick squeeze and release around him, pulsing waves overtaking him entirely. “Fuck, fuck.” 

One last thrust. As far as he can go. And he spills white hot into the condom, words a mixture of curses and praises, declarations and damnations. She’d forgotten her own name in the throws of it all until he says it. Repeats it. A confirmation of reality to them both.

Silence apart from jagged breaths. Sunlight depleting, but she finds his skin still glows, eyes are still bright as he stares right back at her. 

It starts as a silent chuckle through her nose, one that is more felt as she shakes than heard. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip in an attempt to hold it in— this odd, messy laughter of happiness, and surprise, and so much love. It bubbles out of her anyway, especially as he grins in return. 

She doesn’t care about the goofiness of her laughter. The hiccupy punctuations liberally littered throughout. Doesn’t care about the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, along the bridge of her nose. The smudged makeup it sharpens. She leans forward and presses a soft kiss to his lips, smiling when he follows her after she pulls away. 

“So are we gonna talk about that condom you brought?” 

A groan born of a snicker, he buries his face in the crook of her neck. His hands follow the curve of her waist, the indents of her discarded bra against her back and shoulders. Touches meant to memorize, rather than rouse. His thumbs sweep across her ribcage. “Told you. They’re just precautionary.” 

She gasps. Entirely too dramatic. “‘They’?” Her nails dig into his shoulder a little mean when he refuses to loosen the strong arm around her waist. 

He immediately lifts his head to glare at her and she glares back, far more convincing than he could ever be. “‘They.’ ‘They’!” 

She pokes her fingertip into his side. Once, then twice when his hold on her only tightens. “Did you have a big night planned, Sam? Huh?” 

Twice more and he sighs, pushes off the bed to roll the two of them over, smiles at the surprised squeak falling from her lips. He slips out of her as he holds himself above her. “You never know what might happen.”

“At the movies?” she asks. He’s sure he would’ve been able to hear the grin in her voice even if he hadn’t seen it stretching swollen lips. Another jab to his ribs and he hisses. “Just in case we fucked at the movies?”

In one hand, he grasps both of her wrists and pins them against the mattress. “Try it now.” 

Though his grip is loose enough for her to simply twist out of, she glowers up at him. But the glimmer in her eye, the way her toes trace up his calf stirs something still burning inside him. Tone deadpan, she murmurs, “Oh, no. What a terrible position you’ve got me in. What will I do now?” 

Though night falls quickly, draining the room of light but not desire, she sees her bedroom walls turn pink, her comforter now the hue of strawberry bubblegum. 

It seems to blossom more and more each night they spend tangled together beneath her sheets. On the kitchen counter after an early morning trip to the farmer’s market. In her car when the film is just too boring and she kisses him just too fucking much to stay in that fucking theater any longer. Against the wall beside his front door after he’d vanished with that new super-friend of his to chase down a ghost story on a busy highway. 

A pink balloon which pops before summer. Wilted scraps cast a shadow over cotton candy skies, browning once-green grass now gone unwatered. The sun burns tense skin and she fans herself with an informational brochure from the plastic pockets mounted to the wall. 

A summer like the frosty can of lemon-lime soda she drops after having just purchased it from the Hall A vending machine. Barely contained, set to combust at the first purposeful touch. Bent. Entirely wrong. 

She watches as new counselors take over Sam’s sessions. Watches as regulars fall away. Watches as CNN pundits berate a different Steve Rogers than the Please, just call me Steve who drops by monthly with a fresh donation check signed by Tony Stark— a Steve allegedly semi-responsible for the destruction of Sokovia. Watches as the story shifts to one of hope in the glowing hands— and on the wings— of new recruits. 

He stands outside her door that August evening. Shadows under his eyes, a scar below his hairline. “I can explain,” is his greeting. 

The green of a freshly mowed lawn stains her white canvas sneakers. Humidity leaves a sheen of perspiration over the high points of her cheeks. One of the Mickey Mouse band-aids the VA jokingly stocks in the break room first aid kit pasted over her knee. He stores the sight away, something nice to hold onto. “Can’t you always?”

He follows her inside, she knows she shouldn’t allow it. 

He stands too close, she knows she shouldn’t allow that either. “It’s been two weeks. You’ve called maybe twice. You won’t tell me where you’ve been.”

And she believes him when he says, “I can’t tell you where I’ve been. I told you, some things are classified.” 

“Jake Tapper on CNN says you’re moving to New York,” her voice is as small as she feels under the warm, safe hands he holds her face— and every bit of her heart— in. 

There’s little anger in the eyes she watches him with, almost none in fractured words. And he’s fully aware he’s undeserving of that. Of her neverending kindness, that small smile hidden under the long-suffering frown she’d offered upon seeing him in the hall, the home she provides. 

But not the warm apartment with the gauzy drapes and mismatched dining chairs— it’s the heart she somehow hasn’t taken back. Neither through the Steve needs me to find someone explanation which is meager at best, nor the I’ll be back as soon as I can goodbye each time he gets even the faintest lead on the assassin who owes him a new steering wheel. 

He isn’t sure why she’s stuck around. Or why she’s allowed him to walk in and out this way. He sighs and gives her the most detailed explanation yet, “Things are a mess upstate. Steve, Natasha, Stark… They’re scrambling. Trying to get everyone who can help together to avoid another Sokovia.” 

“You could’ve asked my opinion.” She wishes she could sound more stern to even herself. But her voice is a plea and overhead lights do for her filled eyes what the sun does for the ocean. Blinding glitter. “I wouldn’t have said no.” 

“I wanted to tell you in person. Talk to you about it face to face.” 

Though he’s made his decision. Made it the second Steve asked. And she knows it.

Because this is the same Sam with ribbons, balm, and hope. The same Sam who knows there is no liberty to hold when it isn’t made available to everyone. The same Sam who does what’s right no matter the personal cost— and what’s right is helping, simply because he can. 

She forgets that, beyond the barren walls and slowly emptying shelves of his home, summer still scalds bare shoulders and lemonade made from concentrate is still being sold by five-year olds from plastic lawn tables. Too busy boxing up his life. Too tired from nights— and early mornings— marked by urgency and premature goodbyes. 

It isn’t like the first time. Tears punctuate laughter. He holds onto her tighter and thrusts into her harder. Leaves marks as if reminders of himself he knows will physically fade but hopes remain emotionally. Each kiss an attempt to imprint the shape of his lips on the brightness of the soul she’s already embroidered his every touch onto with sharp needles and gilded thread. 

On the eve of his departure, he’s a sinner in confessional. Tells her everything as he rolls them over, a delicate entangling of their fingers while the movement of his hips is anything but. “I love you,” is said against her lips, repeated when he hears her breath stall. But this time as he looks into her eyes. “I love you. I have for so long.” 

He finds himself unable to stop. Strung out on each moan and gasped breath of hers and how long it might be until he can hear it again. How long it might be until he can feel her tighten around him again. “You’re so good. My sweet, beautiful girl. I love you so much.” 

She can’t speak. Not around the knot which has tightened itself at the base of her throat. The knot which only lets his name through, only lets please’s and profanity wrapped in the voice of an angel through. 

She loses count of how many times he says it. Only remembers the different inflections each time. From revelatory and amazed, urging and pleading, to firm, as if it’s indisputable fact. And that, coupled with the way he angles himself to drag against her clit with every bit of push and pull, causes her to fall over the edge twice— nerves overshot and almost painfully sensitive. 

He wants a third. Needs to give her a third. Something to remember him by. So his fingers shoot down between them, thumb hooked between her legs. Even as she grasps his wrist. Her eyes shut, her back arched and head thrown back. 

“You have one more in you,” his voice is rough. Slurred syllables, dragging consonants. His free hand grabs her chin, an attempt to physically bring her gaze back to his. But her eyelids remain closed. “Look at me.”

Eyelashes with remnants of the day’s mascara flutter up toward her brows. Hazy. Yet through it all— through the sparks shooting up her spine as she comes for the third time and through the tears which seem to have found a home above her lashline throughout the past week— she sees him. She’s always seen him. She always wants to see him. 

So as he paints her pulsing walls in warm white ribbons and tells her he loves her for the nth time, she breathes, “I love you, too. Also have for a long time.” 

A beat of silence. Shallow breath held. And he smiles. Silly and warm, like winter in summer. “And you waited this long to tell me? Disgraceful, baby.” 

She rolls her eyes— well-meaning and fond. A giggle that makes him lose his mind. Thumbs brush feather-light over his cheekbones. “Come back to me in one piece and I’ll make it up to you. Over, and over, and over.” 

He makes her a promise that night. 

One he echoes the next morning and every subsequent night they manage to catch each other on the phone. The promise which becomes a goodbye whenever, after a day or two of personal leave as far as SHIELD and the Avengers are concerned, he’s set to take her heart back to New York with him.

“I’ll always come back to you.” 

---

[that-good-trash]

I’m Not Okay- Chapter Three Midoriya x reader/ Bakugou x reader

Izuku Midoriya x reader/ Katsuki Bakugou x reader

Summary: You have struggled with mental health your whole life so why can’t you seem to get it under control. Will you be able to keep the same mask even though two of your classmates have seen under it?

Warnings: Depression, Mentions of suicide, Self harm, Angst, Anxiety, OOC Uraraka.

Word count: 5,015

Comment: This took so much time and I’m sorry its so long and I apologize in advance if it feels rushed and for any grammar/spelling errors. Thank you for reading and following the story this far. I have one more chapter and then two endings. 

Ps. In case you needed to hear this, You matter!

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A week

A week had passed since you broke down on the shower floor while gripping Bakugou’s hand for dear life. The memory itself would always be burned into the back of your head, his words playing on loop every time you felt a panic attack coming. You weren’t cured or anything, it wasn’t like his words were a vaccine for sadness and now you couldn’t feel it. You still felt like the ground was going to give any second and that your chest was running out of room for your lungs. His words had become a way to anchor yourself to reality. When the world was falling apart and you felt stupid for feeling that way you heard him telling you it was okay that this was happening even though it really wasn’t okay. Even he wished that you hadn’t taken his words as some kind of excuse to say that it was okay that this was happening to you. His words really were meant to let you know you were allowed to be sad and feel miserable without having to fear judgement. You were struggling to use his words properly. Instead finding it easier to break down and say that it was okay that you were broken and that the world never felt stable to you and that you wished if it was going to swallow you up it would do so already.

You found comfort in Bakugou’s words and his company. He had started making extra food for himself in the morning and leaving you a plate. You hadn’t seen much of him in the morning since he was taking his training serious again and going for morning runs. While you ate in the morning usually Mina kept you company, a few days Midoriya silently sat with you. He wasn’t mad at you for snapping at him. He was worried about your mental health and you knew that he wouldn’t pry or push anymore. He just didn’t want you to feel alone even if the only way he could help was to sit with you while you ate. Both boys were there for you in different manners. It felt wrong for you to enjoy anything let alone to enjoy two different peoples attempts at helping you. You felt like you were using them, that somehow you must have gained a quirk that involved manipulation. There just wasn’t a good enough reason you could find on why they were still here for you. Midoriya still gave you the teachers lodge to eat in and even if he wasn’t in the room a single sandwich was always left along with a bottle of water. Bakugou made sure to have extra food for you every morning and during every training session watched you carefully to make sure you weren’t pushing yourself. As much as this was any girls dream it made you feel pathetic and even more like a prisoner to yourself, they were the guards waiting for a breakdown so they could wrap you up in white and toss you into a padded room.

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“L/N I’ve noticed that you haven’t been joining the rest of the class for evening activities. You have missed three movie nights, two dinners with board games, and one group training session. I know these things aren’t mandatory but it is strange to not have you in attendance.” The way Iida spoke was beyond proper. You knew that he didn’t always speak like this but it was weird to hear a teenager speak like a strict parent. If anyone else had pointed out your behavior this week you would have shrunk in on yourself. You would have felt ashamed. You couldn’t feel that way with Iida since he was like this with everyone. For months he had scolded and questioned Bakugou on his antisocial behavior so him acting this way toward you was a normal occurrence.

“Sorry Iida, I’ve just been busy with studying.” Lie number 1, instead of studying you actually took the movie nights as opportunities to cry without anyone hearing you.  “I also have been having a late lunch so I haven’t been hungry for dinner.” Lie number 2. You hadn’t been eating unless it was breakfast from Bakugou or lunch from Midoriya. Beyond those meals you didn’t eat. “I’ve miss you guys as well.” You know that he hadn’t mentioned missing you but you felt like it was implied. You were telling the truth. You did miss your classmates. You all were different yet still shared so much and had a lot in common. You loved all your classmates, maybe not Mineta. If you could go back to how things were, before your mind completely betrayed you, then you would be much happier. Secluding yourself was becoming a way of torturing yourself more than a way to hide from involving other people in your issues.

“You don’t have to miss us. We are here for you; you just have to involve yourself.” Iida didn’t mean anything negative and yet you felt like he was blaming you for not participating. He wouldn’t be wrong. You couldn’t blame anyone else since you were the only thing keeping yourself from a healthy relationship with your fellow classmates. Your expression had changed from vacant to downcast. Hopelessness had contaminated your air supply. You were breathing in negative thoughts and exhaling nurturing ones.

The food that you had almost finished was no longer appetizing. You push it away and when no one is looking you dump it into the trash and toss the napkin atop it so no one would know you hadn’t finished. Well more like so Bakugou wouldn’t know. It was a Saturday morning that had no classes or responsibilities for you all to attend to. Bakugou had left around 6am for his run and it was now 8 with him no where in sight. You weren’t waiting for him to return, though apart of you liked when he would come back and shove your shoulder before going off to shower. He always smelled like caramel and his hands were always hot when he would push them against your shoulder. You shook your head trying not to think about Bakugou. Your eyes roamed over to the couches that held groups of your classmates. You knew you needed some grounding or else you would fall apart and this Saturday would be spent locked away in your room.

“Hey have you guys seen Midoriya.” You awkwardly stood in front of Asui, Uraraka, Todoroki, Yaoyorozu, and Tokoyami. They had been in the middle of some kind of conversation that the girls seemed more vocal during. The boys stared at you blankly while the girls looked amongst each other before turning their attention back to you with varying expressions. You instantly regretted asking and turned to leave when no one answered right away. Before you could flee Todoroki spoke up.

“He left this morning around the same time as Bakugou. I’m sure I heard him mention something about personal training.” Todoroki was always straight to the point. You internally thanked him for answering without questioning your intentions. However, before you could get away Asui spoke.

“Why are you looking for Midoriya?” Now all eyes are on you again. How could you tell them that you just needed someone to be near you that wouldn’t ask questions? Someone who would relax you without having to do anything other then just sit by you. You had grown accustom to his calming presence and none judgmental personality. No matter how many times you had flown off the handle or ignored his wishes for you to open up he was still there offering you his shoulder or a safe space to breathe. A place to breathe sounded really nice at the moment.

“I was gonna ask him a question regarding a homework assignment.” It was a terrible lie, not because you didn’t sound convincing but because anyone could help you with homework. There was no reason you would have needed his specific help. Even with your confidence gone everyone was pleased with your answer. Almost everyone, Uraraka seemed skeptical as did Todoroki but he wouldn’t pry. You waited another uneasy second in case anyone else wanted to question you. Once it felt safe you turned ready to leave.

“Wait Y/n! Us girls are having a sleepover tonight. Were gonna kick the boys out of the common room and watch movies, maybe gossip, do each other’s hair. You should join us. I know you’ve been busy studying but I think it would be a good idea to take a break.” Yaoyorozu beamed with pleasure. She appeared happy to invite you and she seemed to really want you to join your classmates. She wasn’t wrong when she said you needed a break. You needed to get away from yourself, this was your ticket to do that. A free excuse to not lay in bed lifeless while raging wars behind your eyes.

“Actually, I think id like that. Thank you.” The gentle smile the graced your lips caught everyone’s attention. It was very rare to see a smile on your face these days. Had Mina been here she would have tackled you into a hug and showered you in compliments. The black and green haired girls seemed excited but the brunette seemed to show a different emotion. You would have tried to figure out exactly what one but you had to go spend the day mentally preparing yourself for a girl party. You waved bye leaving them back to their conversation you had previously interrupted. A tiny pep in your step, you felt like a tiny child who had been invited to a sleepover at a friend’s house. Maybe you didn’t need Bakugou or Midoriya today. Maybe you could take care of yourself, make the voices cease. Your smile remained as you took the elevator up to your room to get ready for the rest of the day.

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You had been productive. To normal people that wasn’t a feat but with you it was a miracle. You had been so excited about actually hanging out with people that you been overcome with energy. You cleaned your room and lugged all your laundry downstairs to wash. You had even played your not sad music playlist while you did homework. You actually finished assignments that weren’t due yet. This was progress but more importantly you weren’t crying or wishing for death to take you. You had kept the same smile on for the whole day. At one point when you gathered your dry laundry to take upstairs you had partaken in a conversation between yourself, Sato, and Sero. You had even laughed wholeheartedly. You wanted so badly to run off to Bakugou or Midoriya and tell them all about how well you were doing, like how a child runs to their parents to show off a gold star and show how they did a simple task. You wanted Bakugou to pat your head or Midoriya to get excited with you. You didn’t seek them out. Instead you kept this happiness within yourself afraid that if you let it out then it wouldn’t stay.

“Okay you got this. No breaking down, no running away, and NO dissociating.” You stood in the mirror with that ‘other girl’ reading her the rules. You had to tell her because if you didn’t then you’d forget. It was a pep talk with regulations. You looked over yourself as your reflection mimicked you. Your hair was casual and styled in the way you like it. Your outfit wasn’t revealing, instead was comfortable and modest. A pair of sweats and a black camisole made a simple enough pair of pjs. You lifted a small bag of personal items pulling the strap onto your shoulder. Even though you were still going to be in the same building as your room you decided to take some items with you so you wouldn’t have to come back for them. A small blanket you’ve had since you were a child was folded neatly on the bottom. Your favorite stuffed animal sat on top the blanket. You also had a bottle of aspirin in case of a headache form social overstimulation. A few other items like a brush and phone charger sat inside the bag as well. You were dressed, packed, and ready to go have fun; or at least try.

With a smile on your face and chest tightening from the sheer adrenaline of doing something out of the ordinary you left your room and headed to the elevator. You pass Momo’s room and knock. After no reply you assume, she must be downstairs already which makes you even more eager. The elevator takes you down to the third floor where the door opens to let Ojiro in. You give him a small wave which he returns. The doors are about to close but you stop them when you hear multiple girls’ voices. Not just the two girls who dorm on this floor, more than that. Curiosity gets the better of you leading you to step out of the elevator after a small goodbye to Ojiro. You creep up to Jirou’s door trying to convince yourself that there isn’t a reason to be secretive. You push your back against the wall next to her slightly open door. You heard Hagakure’s voice along with Momo’s. Jirou laughs about something and your chest tightens. You wondered if you were all supposed to meet here before going downstairs. You make a move for the door but stop when you are completely sure that your name was mentioned. You move slightly closer to the crack in the door glancing inside without being noticed. You see Uraraka sitting on one of Jirou’s amps. She was the one who had mentioned your name. You could hear what the topic was as she continued.

“I don’t want to sound mean but why did you have to invite Y/n, Momo.” Yes, this could be interpreted as mean but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions just yet. This may just be a misunderstanding.

“I didn’t know Y/n was invited!” Hagakure’s voice sounded excited which brought your smile back.

“Yeah, I invited her. She hasn’t been herself and seemed like she could use some girl time. Also, I know Mina would kill us if we didn’t.” You couldn’t argue with Momo’s logic, Mina was very protective of you.

“You shouldn’t have invited her. She doesn’t even like us. She’s always by herself and when she isn’t, she’s bothering Deku or Bakugou… You guys know how I feel about Deku, I know she must know that I like him. She keeps taking his attention away from us. He used to hang out with Todoroki, Iida, and I during lunch and now he just spends it with her. I bet she isn’t even sad. She’s probably just faking it.”

There was a lot you had to process. For starters you had no idea that Uraraka had a crush on Midoriya and that she felt like you were flaunting his attention. You really tried to avoid talking about it with anyone. You never wanted to hurt anyone or step on any toes and yet here you were having to ease drop to hear how people actually felt. The part that hurt most was her comment about you not liking them. You liked all your classmates, Mineta was still debatable, and you would never want to hurt them. Not once have you thought negative thoughts about any of the girls. If anything, you were jealous of them for having normal lives and functioning social skills. Even then your jealousy wasn’t really jealousy, it was more like resent toward yourself. You willed yourself to be normal or at least try and be nice to everyone when given the chance. You had secluded yourself for so long people took it as a personal jab, an insult. Despite not having done anything wrong you felt remorse. Your brain slowly pulled apart Uraraka’s sentences. Were you really taking Midoriya away from his friends? Iida hadn’t complained when he saw you that morning. Todoroki didn’t mention it when he told you where Midoriya had gone. Were they trying to spare your feelings? You knew you weren’t being selfish because in all honesty you had told him on more than one occasion to leave you alone. Maybe that was a way of manipulation, maybe you said it so he’d run after you. No, you were a lot of things but manipulative wasn’t one of them. The emotions swirling inside halted and moved aside for the worst one to make its appearance. The sour taste came with the emotion. Your fist clenched at your side. How dare she say you weren’t sad. What the hell would she know about sadness. How could she even pretend to know you like that? Your shoulders shook as you gritted your teeth. Anger, seething anger, the kind that you hated feeling. The kind of anger that could destroy lives and friendships if used against people. You begged in the back of your mind for this to stop. For your chest to untighten and fist to unclench. Your begging fell on deaf ears. A war between your reason and anger never ended well.

As you tried to calm down other voices spoke up. You couldn’t make out what they said but you wanted so desperately for someone to defend you. You wanted someone to see that you weren’t a bad person, just broken and miserable. You never meant to make anyone else miserable. A tear slowly drifts down your cheek. You don’t wipe it away because you’d rather be sad then angry. The elevator dings bringing your attention away from your ‘friends’ bedroom and to the opening doors. Ojiro walks out, now holding a drink and he’s with Tokoyami. The two boys’ glance at you and you swear there is the slightest hint of pity beyond their eyes. You walk past them and into the elevator before the door can close. You don’t dare look back but instead at the buttons. The internal battle of what button to press. Do you retreat back to your dorm and do exactly what they expect? Should you let Uraraka have her way. Your finger pushes into the 1. You weren’t going to run away, you promised you wouldn’t.

“Y/n!!!” Mina’s voice cut through any thoughts you were having as the elevator door opened. She had been waiting for you to arrive. Sitting on the arm of the couch was Kaminari, who was chatting with Kirishima. The two boys looked over at you when Mina exclaimed your name. They smiled at you while moving away from the couch. Mina had sprung off the sofa and was across the room in seconds, her arms around you with the biggest grin.

“I’m so happy that you’re joining us tonight.” Her grip loosened when you started laughing at her glee. She pulled away looking you over. You covered your chest with your arms feeling slightly self-conscience. She yanked your arms down squealing about how cute your lazy simple outfit was. You realized you could literally have come down in a trash bag and she’d love it.

“Mina you gotta let go of me, we are literally blocking the elevator.”

“Yeah you are.” The bubbly voice couldn’t hide the slight irritation it came out with. You stumbled out of the way awkwardly with Mina still clinging onto you. Mina raised a brow at the way the words were spoken. You were so thankful that Mina’s reaction verified that the words were rude and it wasn’t you just exaggerating. You both watch as Uraraka leaves the elevator walking toward the couch with three others behind her.

“What was that all about?” Mina isn’t as cheerful when she questions the gravity girls’ attitude. Even Kaminari raises a brow as he and Kirishima approach the elevator. You shrug in response to Mina’s question. You could have told her what you heard but that would just cause drama you didn’t want to deal with.

“Dude what was that about. Talk about cat fight energy. You okay Y/n?” Kaminari was a friend to all woman. He always found a way to be on two sides of a female spat. However right now he seemed actually concerned for you.

“I’m fine. I was in her way. It’s okay.” It wasn’t okay and apart of you wishes that the four of you were hanging out instead. Kaminari nods before getting into the elevator. You reach out and grab his wrist. “Sorry to bother you Denki but what are you guys doing right now?”

“You can’t bother me babe. Kirishima and I are gonna go play some video games with BakuHoe.” You rolled your eyes and the playful smirk on his face and the pet name. His nickname for Bakugou, when said boy wasn’t around, made you sigh. You personally thought it was tasteless but he thought he was hilarious so you let it slide. A part of you really wanted to join them instead especially now that Bakugou was involved. “Why Y/n? You wanna come hang with us instead.”

You knew he was trying to make a joke but he literally asked you what you had just been wanting to ask yourself. You didn’t get a chance to reply since Kirishima was closing the elevator mentioning something about Bakugou getting tired of waiting. You lost your chance to escape. Now you were being pulled to the couches that were covered in pillows and blankets. Everyone was sitting around or on the couches talking about shit you didn’t care about. Your stomach was hurting and you felt isolated even thought you were sitting against Mina. The words and conversations moved around and through you but never were directed at you. No one seemed to care that you were quiet. Even your best friend was talking and animatedly story telling leaving you in the background.

Your savior came in the form of pizza and a movie. You only ate one slice while everyone else ate two or three. The movie was boring to you or at least the pieces you caught were. You watched everyone else more than the screen. Yaoyorozu was playing with Jirou’s hair while watching the movie intensely. Jirou looked bored but you could see that she was watching just as intensely as Momo. You couldn’t tell what Hagakure’s expression was but her clothing made it seem like she was watching. You could hear everyone’s comments and reaction sounds. Somehow this was fun to them and agony to you. At some point you had drifted off only to be woken up by Mina. You wished she had just let you sleep. The girls were suggesting games to play. Truth or dare was chosen and you were now hyper aware of everything going on. Truths and dares were being tossed around and you couldn’t escape. Thankfully it started light hearted and childish. You had to admit an embarrassing childhood memory for a truth and for a dare you had to text a picture of a banana to Kaminari asking his size preference. It was fun and everyone was enjoying it, but things had to change. It wasn’t going to stay fun and playful. Soon things got into crushes and relationships, something you thought you’d be safe from. Mina talked about an ex, Asui had to call Tokoyami and say a pick up line, Momo mentioned Todoroki a few to many times for it to be a coincidence. Jirou texted the group chat that she was Bi, Hagakure snuck into the boy’s bathroom and stole Ojiro’s hair brush. It was Uraraka’s turn, she chose dare trying to escape the awkwardness of having to admit anything embarrassing.

“So Uraraka, I dare you to text your crush and ask if they like anyone and ask who.” It was meant to prove to Uraraka you were no threat. You knew that Yaoyorozu meant well and hell you wanted for it to prove that you weren’t some kind of homewrecker. She was the deepest color red that you’d every seen her. The girls were hyping you up and Mina was squealing from excitement. You waited with bated breath. You didn’t know what she texted but she asked Midoriya if he had a crush on someone. A ding catches everyone’s attention as they move closer to Uraraka waiting for the response.

“HE LIKES SOMEONE!” More cheers and giddy squeals. She asks who it is and waits. Would he really tell her if he liked her? You didn’t need to ask because the dark shadow that passes over her face as she reads the response give it away. She is turning red from a mix of anger and embarrassment. Her eyes finish moving across her screen and look up making contact with your own. Your heart stops and you really wish you hadn’t joined the party. She stands up and throws her phone into your lap. You look down and read it.

[Please don’t tell anyone but I like Y/n.]

So much for not telling anyone, the phone is grabbed from your lap so Jirou can read it. She lets out a low whistle at the drama about to occur. Momo is trying to settle Uraraka down, trying to get her to not explode. Mina looks at you with confusion. She doesn’t understand why everyone is upset since you didn’t do anything wrong. Momo fails to stop Uraraka who stomps up to you. You look up from your lap and stare into her blood shot tear filled eyes. You knew the look well because you had worn it every night. How did today start with Iida wishing you’d participate more to you being scorned.

“You did this. You somehow convinced him that your worthy of him. I don’t know what kind of trash you told him but you aren’t special. You aren’t better than any of us. You are nothing. You don’t talk to anyone like you’re to cool for our class. You don’t eat food with us like some kind of princess not wanting to eat with commoners. I see the way you look at us. Like we don’t matter. You are horrible. You have him convinced your sad or helpless but you aren’t your mean and heartless. If you were sad you wouldn’t be here. You’d go away.” Her tone fluctuated to angry, sad, bitchy, the volume going up and down. The words. Oh god the words ate at the shields you had put up earlier. You felt your skin chip away and you were exposed. Your eyes were quick to fill with tears but you wouldn’t let them fall. Your chest was tight and you hadn’t tried to breathe in fear that you would be yelled at for doing so. You had been in fights or caught the bad end of someone’s shitty day before but this. This was so much more than a bad day. This was something she had been thinking and brewing. Uraraka tore you apart because you had ‘stolen’ from her. The words were bullets ripping into your skin causing wounds that couldn’t easily be fixed. She told you things that you only heard inside your mind. Things that shouldn’t have hurt because you had become so used to yourself saying them. This wasn’t painful because you disagreed. It was painful because you hated yourself more than she could. You thought things that would make therapist cry. The only thing that could come out was an apology as you stood up.

“I’m sorry that you feel hurt. I’m sorry for what you think I’ve done. I fuck everything up. You’re right Uraraka I shouldn’t be here.” It happened so fast but you had left. You ran even though you promised you wouldn’t. You ran outside ignoring the yells of your name. The thing you hadn’t realized was the blood the dripped down your arm. They had witnessed how deep you dug your nails into your arm. They watched you yank your hand downward causing the nails to piece and slit the skin. They all yelled your name and witnessed the life leave your eyes. You were gone into the darkness of the night with only one thought in your mind. You were useless, you were garbage, you ruined everything so why would you stay. You needed the pain to stop. You knew where to go. The school buildings stood off in the distance. The roof calling your name.

Mina and Jirou rushed to Bakugou’s room banging violently. He was furious when he opened the door but stopped his explosion when he saw the tears in Mina’s eyes and the panic in Jirou’s. She didn’t even need to tell him that it involved you but she did. She explained what happened and as much as he watched to kill Uraraka he fled the building into the darkness to stop you. He had tears of frustration and fear in his eyes.

“You better be okay.”

He growled the words into the dark street as he ran to the campus. Asui and Momo told Midoriya what had happened. He stared at the girls blankly. He knew what bullying felt like and he’d never wish that on anyone. He couldn’t believe that Uraraka had done this but he didn’t have time to be mad or confused. He left his dorm yelling for them to call Mr. Aizawa and explain the situation. He didn’t know where he was going to find you but wherever you were headed you had a terrible plan and he couldn’t let you go through with it.

“I’m coming for you Y/n, please don’t do anything reckless.”

Uraraka didn’t do this to you. You had done this to yourself for years. She just gave you the final push you needed. You were so tired and miserable. This was no way to live. Or at least that what you thought as you broke into the school and started up the staircase going to the roof.