#maybe i should put prints on the wall now

[kithtaehyung]

oh my god.. the seven prints are dangerous(,,•﹏•,,)

[theokusgallery]

Ma no pandora 🌟

i am. completely incoherent

[deunmiu-dessie]

(unedited)³ retired simon has nowhere to go, so you offer. { his pov } [ one, two, three]

she’s like a breath of fresh air. bright and cold. a gust so frigid that it sends goosebumps to shroud his skin. like the first fall of snow. was it december now? how long has it been since he’d left? how long has he wandered? adrift like a buoy at sea. but strangely stuck, straying in place. like some sort of ghost. trapped and terrified.

he thinks she’s naive. strange, even. like a child left outside without supervision. prone to being up to no good. she’s insistent in her little fiat car. her hands are covered in a pair of creme wool gloves. and when he looks close enough he notices that they’re fraying at the seam. worn. loved.

she says her name. it’s pretty, her name. it fits. she’s expectant, waiting for him to speak. give her something, anything he’s sure. she seems like a good girl. too good, too much for him, not enough for her. he hardly even knew her. but she wants to know you. she’s being nice. nothing more. simon. that’s what he tells her and it rolls off her tongue faultlessly. “well, we’re not strangers anymore, simon.” is what she says. he finds her amusing.

it’s her eyes. that’s what makes him slide into the passenger seat. they're wide. warm. nervous— despite her being the one to offer him a ride. it’s endearing, if not a bit entertaining. and the cold has already frozen his body. he can hardly feel his feet. but he deserves this. this life that he’s been subjected to.

she’s an anxious thing. her gloved hands drum lightly against the steering wheel. she’s shit at making small talk. and from the reflection of the car window, he can see the way she works her bottom lip into her mouth. he’s tempted to thumb it from within the wet heat. he doesn't.

“could be a killer.” she smiles. her eyes brighten. it’s small but he finds himself forgetting to breathe. in and out. in and out. she smells temptingly like honey and spices, all tangy and sweet. fuck. he holds his breath. “are you?” he doesn't respond. after all the killing. the blood that stains his hands. his skin. won't come off no matter how hard he scrubs. he’s a murderer. yes, i am. she’s too trusting. he wouldn't hurt her. never.

small. is how he would describe the apartment. small but homey. filled with greenery, color, and a tiny christmas tree. it’s tucked away. surrounded by lights at its base. it smells like chocolate, milk to be specific. but her as well. honeyed spices and dried fruits, tangy and sweet. the radio that he hears plays quietly. silent night in instrumental. his heart tightens in his chest.

he’s not sure how he ended up here. surrounded by her four walls. she suggests sweetly. eyes wide and sad at his destination. he declines. she isn't the type to take no for an answer. her brows are knitted. hands tightening. he’s enamored. he shouldn't stay. he should tuck and roll out the car while he has the chance. run. like he’s used to doing. too late the two pull in. she’s pleased with herself. he grins faintly beneath his mask. cute.

the couch is a bed. it pulls out into one anyway. she busies herself. shuffling to get sheets and a comforter. it’s a faded baby blue, printed with delicate flowers. and she looks proud. smiling at the cozy couch. her lips are coated in a sheen. from the lip balm she’d put on a second ago. and he adverts his eyes when she looks toward him. couldn't meet those wide eyes. sweet and nervous. he stares instead at the makeshift bed. she speaks. grins awkwardly.

“thank you.” he means it. it’s stiff. his voice hoarse from the cold but, he means it— no matter how gruff it comes out. her hands. no longer swathed by wool gloves, slide down denim-clad thighs. lips press. and her head nods. she says his name again, but scurries before he can reply, and maybe it’s for the best. he can barely speak.

click.

he shouldn't. but he finds himself amused. good girl. he was still a stranger after all. a strange man she has willingly invited into her home. he wondered briefly if she was right in the head. right to slow for him. to smile at him. she couldn't be. unsure. he can’t get comfortable. just lays there and listens to her faint voice. walls thin. voice muffled. but words clear. “die tonight.”— “…love you.” he ponders.

he doesn't remember a ring. friend? mom? boyfriend? his heart aches. he doesn't know her. he has no right to feel anything. she was nice, too good. he was the opposite, with nowhere to go. nothing to offer. why was he here? he should leave. but sleep weighs heavy on his eyes. bing crosby lulls him to sleep. he’d be gone before she woke.

i've always thought simon to have very choppy thoughts. and always being very in his head. very observant. so yeah. listened to christmas music making this! hehehe

[hamsternella]

maybe headcanons of Bill Cipher being obsessed with us for being Ford's wife, but at first he feels jealous and gradually that changes as he finds we have equal things (e.g. we are blind, and that makes Bill start to want to get more intimate with us as he has with Ford because he finds that we have also been despised/put aside because of that difference), and maybe he wants to make a deal with us but we refuse out of loyalty to Ford and that makes Bill jealous- but now of Ford, not of us lmao sorry if that is confusing or too specific.

Are you going to write any Gravity Falls fanfic on the side? I've seen your poll and I'm very excited

HELLO, and no problem. Here it is, I hope you like it.

As for the fanfic, I do plan to write one. Actually, it's in drafts; I just need to correct what I have written. I don't know if I should make it long or cut it and put it in chapters.

Bill Cipher being obsessed with you [headcanon]

cw: fem!reader, non-con touching, possessed body, jealousy, maybe a bit of ooc(?

The reason Bill begins to feel his plan is threatened is because of you. As much as Ford has him on a pedestal, you are still the main reason for his early accomplishments. The special person who has been with him since his college discovery years.

You're not like McGucket; your judgment carries paramount weight in Ford's most decisive decisions. You're not a mentally dazzling woman, not like him, but your claws keep you firmly entrenched behind Sixer's back. Bill repudiates that—it makes no sense at all!

As if that weren't enough, the affair culminates with you being blind. Can there be anything much more repugnant than a romance fueled by misfortune? Ford is drawn to your sincere heart, and you support him unconditionally because beyond your husband's obsession, your love for him seems to break down the most terrifying walls. And how can you be afraid of something you can no longer see?

Bill feels he has the enemy breathing behind his back. For the first time he thinks he can't solve everything with a kick to the rock in the middle of the road.

The closest thing to a tantrum you get from him —unknowingly— are regular nightmares, a weak body and constant paranoia about unfamiliar sounds and sensations. Your home is suddenly a new world; frightening and strange. Because of this you become clumsy and unpredictable, and even your husband doesn't understand what it is that has you so off track.

Bill can't use his influence on your reality at all, but through Ford and other extensions, as well as fine print manipulations, he manages to reach you without arousing suspicion.

''I've told you many times, Bill,'' sighed Ford with his back turned, both hands placed on his journal. ''I don't think I can go through with this completely until I manage to find a way to help my wife.''

''Isn't this a sign that it's time to get her out of your way?''

"Excuse me?’’ The man turned his attention to the demon; his eyes laden with bitterness and desolation. ''What do you mean by that? I can't abandon my wife, Cipher—she would never do something like that to me.''

''Well,'' Bill chuckled, ''it's not like she's really done anything for you all this time. This project is our thing, Fordsy, and it shouldn't be interrupted by a little stumble that doesn't even belong to us. Or are you going to give up everything you've sacrificed for this?''

''You have understood me like no other, Bill; I admit that there is no person or creature existing on this planet who can do all that you have done for me,'' admitted Ford solemnly. ''But she's my wife—she's been around even before you, when I was nobody. When I had nothing. And even when I came to Gravity Falls and left everything behind she was always there. Bill, I... I can't, I'm sorry.''

Bill held back another complaint, beginning to notice that things were not working out the way he had wanted. Your clumsiness didn't kill Ford's patience or control, but what little sanity —if any— there was in him. It was humiliating; Bill Cipher losing to a human being, a random woman—blind, to make it worse.

The demon was beginning to withdraw in on himself, frustration rising to anger, when Ford's voice from the entrance to the room drew his gaze back. There was a different gleam in his companion's, and Cipher understood with annoyance where the conversation would end up now.

Your husband introduces you to the possible solution to all your problems: Mr. Cipher, a doctor and close friend of Stanford. A mysterious man with a booming voice that makes your hair stand on end, but at the end of the day a man of studies and degrees. Of course you were going to trust your husband's recommendation.

''What a coincidence that you happened to be passing by, sir! Thank you for offering to help me. That's very kind of you.''

Bill starts pretending to be your personal doctor in search of a miracle solution to your problems. It's not hard to avoid contact with you to hide the truth; Ford tries hard to keep the situation straight.

If the demon hated you before, now you better start praying.

Cipher understands that he needs to play along with Ford if he wants the project to stay on track, even if that means starting to help you heal while containing his desire to get rid of you.

Maybe if he possessed Stanford and took advantage of you during your naps.

Maybe.

But he knows better than that—Ford isn't stupid. Not stupid enough, at least.

It was humiliating to have to take care of what he himself had caused, but it's not as if Bill could afford any other way to get back on the project. Ford was all he had. Where was he going to get someone else capable enough? This had been fate; interrupted at the last minute by the appearance of a bad third. This was all your fault. Blind little rat—woman busybody with a sweet smile and giggly voice. Cipher understood why Sixer was where he was with you, on the one hand. On the other it was all the same: a whim that cost dearly. Who needed someone like you? What was the benefit? Sex, maybe? But Bill Cipher was a thousand times better than something so banal! Please…

Bill rolled his eye, snapping his fingers to undo the nightmare you were in. As soon as your dream was undone you let out an exclamation of surprise, jumping on the bed. You brought a hand to your face, feeling the sweat, and almost immediately moved your body to where he lay. Cipher held back surprise, finding himself genuinely intrigued.

''Doctor,'' you whispered hoarsely, ''good afternoon. I... Forgive me, I think I fell asleep—it was sudden, I don't know what came over me...''

''Did you know it was me here with you?''

The smile you gave him threw him off. A ''Well, yes, isn't it very obvious?'' kind of grimace.

''Does your husband know that you have these nightmares during our therapies?''

'Therapies' sounded fancy, but it was shorthand for the tortures Bill forced you to go through; a theater of supposed recovery to cover up his need to hurt you.

“He doesn't know, doctor. I haven't told him, if I'm honest,'' you replied. ''Please don't tell him anything.''

''It would be unethical!''

‘’Pretending to be a doctor is also unethical, sir,’’ you laughed. ''I am blind, not stupid.’’

Killing you was going to be the only solution to all of this—although from that day on nothing else ever happened.

Bill has to accept that you have a lot of tricks up your sleeve. You're not just any woman anymore; being Ford's wife had to have been warning enough for him.

You continue to not remind him of his charade and allow him to continue 'treating' you, while your husband resumes the plans for the portal.

Surprisingly, Bill seems to have found interest in something much more striking.

You.

The nightmares subside, your mood and judgment improve, and Cipher finds a strange pleasure in this new side of you: much more alert, more talkative and wittier. You have your charm.

But it's your husband who pulls the reins. Bill gets it right away.

Evenings with you aren't exactly revelatory like they are with Ford, who always has enough data and information to surprise everyone with. With you it's different; it's something much more intimate and almost forgotten by Bill. He knows so much that it would be impossible to be taken by surprise—but you manage to do it.

He is overcome with a nostalgic and unpleasant feeling, but which ironically keeps him alive as he decides to lie to Ford.

Bill doesn't want to let you go. It's strange. Maybe he got used to another glaring presence besides Sixer? Torturing you a little more in silence to keep you under his care should not be a stupid thing to do at all.

Cipher encounters another particular feeling: curiosity. He needs to know why you know what you know; and what it is, above all else, that keeps you here.

What keeps you with so much power over him, Bill Cipher.

''Are you saying that I have tricks up my sleeve? I don't get it, doctor...''

''Oh! Oh, please,'' Bill interrupted, thunderous laughter bouncing across the room. ''You know I'm no doctor; the title is ridiculous.''

''Should I call you 'Mr. Cipher' instead?''

Bill held back a sigh, rubbing his eye for a moment before orbiting around you. If you had noticed, you didn't say or do anything. Your eyes, white as opaque pearls, remained fixed on a corner of the room.

''Since when did you know I wasn't a doctor? No, better yet, since when did you know I wasn't human?''

''Well, it's not quite like that either,'' you replied under a soft laugh. ''You just revealed to me that you are not human. As for the doctor thing... Well, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think that dream therapies and transverse snoring with citrus scent induction while dipping my feet in spoiled milk is something a professional would recommend.''

Bill pretended not to be offended.

''Besides that,'' you continued, ''I know my husband very well. I know that he hides dangerous things down there, where I cannot reach by myself, just as I know everything that has been happening is not the product of chance.''

''Did you know all this time that your nightmares and fears have been my doing?''

‘’No, not really. You just confessed it to me.''

‘’Oh, come on!’’ Bill shook his fists in the air, abruptly remembering that you couldn't see him. It was strange, you seemed to know the world you inhabited even though your eyes wouldn't let you. The thought made the demon orbit around you again, returning in front of you. Opaque pearls; gaze lost in the open. "I've had a majestic revelation at this very moment! Do you want to hear it, or will your big, bold woman brain let you know in advance what I have to say?”

"I have a slight feeling you don't like me.”

“Yes or no!”

“Of course, tell me.”

"I have to assume you weren't born blind; this must be the product of an accident," Cipher began to say. "That would explain why the hell you do everything you do, and why the fuck you know where I am.”

"That's right, Mr. Cipher," you nodded. "I've had an accident, though I suppose you know that because you've infiltrated me. Either that, or my husband told you.”

"So you did know that I'm a demon?”

“You just—”

“Oh, shut up! Don't fucking say it again.”

Your coexistence with Bill becomes pleasant, despite the early revelation of his nature and his having been the cause of your misfortunes.

Cipher comes to believe that he may have been wrong; maybe you were stupid after all.

But that would be crazy! Unlike with Ford, with you the feelings are extremely nostalgic and warm. There is no trace of some kind of farce or genuine morbid interest behind your words. You believe everything you say.

Bill, who despite not sleeping or dreaming, being haunted by the memory of screams and an old distorted and flat reality, finds in your company a comfort zone that makes him delirious.

Sadly, your heart and your judgment is still tied to Sixer—as if that brainiac cared at all!

Bill begins to drive Ford crazy; he feeds him extensive knowledge, possesses him more often to enjoy the benefits, and then alters his memories, making it difficult for him to know what is truth and what is a lie.

Where he can no longer meet your needs, Bill is always there to dazzle you.

You jumped in your seat, feeling your husband's warm hands wrap around your neck. Fingers, rough from machines and dust, caressed your skin awkwardly, drawing a chuckle from you. His breath came to you from above, as if he had just sighed in delight at your reaction. When you felt him rest his hands on your shoulders, you slowly brought one of yours to caress the back of his. You felt him tremble.

''I thought you were sleeping?'' you asked with genuine interest. ''Is everything all right? All these days you've been doing the same thing.''

''Do you mind, beautiful?''

You stifled a laugh.

''No, Ford, your company would never be a bother to me... Are you smelling my hair?''

‘’I just can’t get enough of you.’’

You felt him circle your body, delineating one of the chairs near you so he could relax his body in it. You didn't last long without his hands—as soon as he resumed his seat, you felt his fingers intertwining with yours. This time it was more consistent and comfortable; not like all those days where it seemed like your husband had forgotten how to use his own body.

''Oh, dear! Seeing you with these two orbs of nerves and membrane is amazing! You look even more dazzling.''

Although the comments without any context or sense were still there.

''I'm not that great,'' you said with a small laugh. A little shy. Ford didn't used to give you so many compliments. “How's your project going?’’

‘’That thing? Good, very good. Excellent, my dear! Maybe you could see for yourself—oh, well, you can't,'' he guffawed. ''Right. Whatever! Hey, uh, can I ask you a question?''

‘’Y-Yeah, sure, honey.’’ You cleared your throat. ‘’What’s the matter?’’

''Hypothetical scenario. You're married, but you're not quite fulfilled. Suppose someone comes along who is much better than your husband,'' he explained. ''He's smart, funny, multifunctional, powerful, extra-dimensional, or very soon will be, and also very stylish!'' Silence. Moments later an exclamation. ''Do you have a favorite color? His favorite color is yellow!''

‘’I… I mean, sorry, but I actually don’t understand at all where’s the question.’’

‘’Don’t be silly! Would you leave your husband for this entity—excuse me, for this person?''

‘’What?’’

‘’The heck.’’

Another booming laugh, and though you tried to accompany it with your own, the sound that came from you was choppy and awkward. This exchange was strange.

''I can't find a reason to leave my husband for this so-called mystery person,'' you replied. ''I am supposed to have married him for a reason which should be more than enough. Ford,'' you rushed on, ''is this regarding Mr. Cipher?''

''Why?'' he asked at once. ''Why do you think of him all of a sudden? Do you feel something forbidden about him in this marriage?''

''But of course not!''

''What do you mean ‘no’?!’’

His hands let go of yours. The chair in front of you seemed to be dragged, the wood against the floor squeaking with the sudden friction. The movement had taken you by surprise.

‘’Ford?’’

''Why are you so happy? Why, huh?'' he sighed, frustrated. ''Haven't I abandoned you every night in a freezing bed, while I prefer the company of machines? Cipher has been very kind to you and kept you company!''

''Ford, what are you—wait. Wait a moment... Bill, is this you?'' You covered your mouth, terrified at the discovery. Your companion didn't respond and you simply let out a shaky breath. ''Are you possessing my husband?’’

‘’Damn, that was fast.’’

‘’That’s awful!’’

"There was full consent!" added Bill with a chuckle. "This is a man-to-man thing, my pretty little fleshbag. Something between colleagues, plain and simple. You needn't fear—Bill Cipher is taking care of everything.”

"But it's horrendous anyway!" you exclaimed with your voice splitting. "It all makes sense now... The words, the touches, the way you acted—it was all a sham! You were using my husband!”

"Oh, please, little one. Wasn't it you who dreamed of being able to touch me?”

"You, not a substitute class using Stanford's body! Have you two been doing these kinds of exchanges all along?”

"It's just that there was a change of plans!”

“A change? What—”

“I mean, I tried to kill you; but it's not that easy now,” he laughed.

You tried to calm your breathing. Your heart was beating painfully against your chest, and your whole body was trembling. This wasn't right, obviously. It was like a vivid nightmare.

“Not that I want to do it, of course.”

“Why?” you asked after a long silence.

You felt the presence of your husband's body very close to you. A pair of hands rested on your cheeks, caressing them with his fingers very softly; the touches getting lost under the trembling of your figure when you heard again a sigh of delight. Something was up.

“You know,” he whispered, “I think we could make a deal. A little, pretty one, and just for you.”

“A deal? A deal with a demon, you mean. No, thank you.”

“Oh, come on! It will be fun!”

“And it makes no sense.”

Bill turned away from you, returning to his chair to take a seat across from your body.

"What exactly is it that Ford gives you that I can't manage to satisfy? Because very soon the little project will be complete, and I will have full disposal of many wonderful tricks to take care of you, my dear," he continued. "An eternity together! We'll be able to create and tell thousands of new stories; to travel across the world and let you experience hundreds of new sensations. We'll be unstoppable! Incomparable!”

"That's not the way things work, Bill…”

"Things work because of the strongest. I will soon be the only one with that title.”

"What will happen to Ford?" you asked haltingly. "What will you do to my husband?”

"He's my co-worker, dear.”

"You're hiding something from me.”

"So what if it is? He doesn't matter here! It's our time... You're mine.”

The way your husband's voice was beginning to distort sent a shiver through your body. You loved Ford—you missed him. The idea that you had been kissing the lips of a man possessed a couple of days ago was turning your stomach. Your silence seemed to feed something inside the demon; his voice thundered, totally changed, across the room.

"A few weeks ago you said you missed the stars," added Bill. "The last time you saw them was when you were a teenager. I miss the stars too—the ones I saw with a different eye. It's not the same anymore. Nothing is, since..." Silence. You didn't dare interrupt the creature who seemed to be drowning in bitter memory. It took him a while to pull himself together; a split laugh piercing your ears like an arrow. "Oh, the misery! I thought it repulsive the way you two looked so united over something so pathetic. Anyway, what does the past matter now, what does misery matter! There's no such thing being with Bill Cipher. You'll want for nothing.”

"I refuse, Bill.”

"And I refuse too," he laughed. "See? We can play the same game, silly. I don't recommend testing my patience, though.”

The touch of palms against the warm skin of your neck took you by surprise. The roughness of those fingers you loved so much were now forbidding you to breathe; the softness of moist lips pressing against yours, taking advantage of the way you parted yours to find a sliver of air. You soon struggled against your husband's body, desperate to deny the foreign tongue that flicked unseemly and inexperienced inside you. Bill was drowning in an unfamiliar feeling that felt too good. You were soft, fragile. Your flesh was tender and warm, quivering like an animal about to die—he was going to devour it to the bone. Was this what Ford had been doing with you? You liked it?

He could kill you. He could end your life when the portal was complete; he could take advantage of Ford, as he had been doing all this time, and keep the prize all to himself. Why was it so hard? What was it you had done to him? Was Ford a victim too? The thought burned like a fierce fury at the back of his mind—jealousy once again. The need to own even the crumbs. Ford wouldn't have the right to be your victim anymore. This feeling was too good for that brainiac to understand, surely he never did.

But Bill understood everything. He was incomparable. He could dominate your life and hold the reins as well as Ford had been doing. No. Cipher was going to do better! Did you miss your husband's domination? Bill would be your ruler; he would destroy obstacles and build better ones to keep you in check. Maybe a little training and you'd become a beautiful little bag of flesh and muscle—tight, warm and obedient. And who knows if you'd end up exceeding his expectations! Who knows if a little gift occupying your orbs would give you the chance to enjoy the same star-studded sky together.

"Don't think too much," whispered Bill pantingly. "There's plenty of other things to do than something as dull as that. Don't worry your pretty little head.”

You shook your head, surrendered to crying. Your husband's hands had left your neck, but now they wrapped around your wet cheeks, offering shy caresses.

"From now on you're going to use it when I say so. Everything will be that way, and you know why?”

A crooked laugh vibrated against his chest, reaching you through his hands.

"Because now you will be my new pet. A special one! The best of them all… You could say ‘muse’, even. Isn't that beautiful, dear?”

A cold kiss. The last one.

“Aren't you, above all, beautiful too?”

[spicyspiders]

I could give you a request if that’s inspiration for a Wolverine/Deadpool threesome - but feel free to ignore if it’s not your thing :)

I could imagine reader being an assassin, getting the objective to kill Wade (without knowing it’s impossible) and y’know, failing miserably. Ending up sandwiched between Wade and Logan, Wade wanting to know who sent him, and then getting rewarded for being such a good boy and telling.

Warning for sex pollen, double penetration, and one instance of Deadpool breaking the fourth wall.

“You look pretty withering in pain like that,” Deadpool said, one of his guns trained to your forehead. 

The man beside him looked at him with his brows drawn in disgust, his arms crossed over his chest. 

You looked up and stole a glance at the man just in time for his eyes to slowly look you over, the intensity of his gaze making you shiver. 

“What?” Deadpool asked, “have you seen the way that suit fits him?” He asked the man. 

“They didn’t tell me there would be two of you,” you said through gritted teeth, your eyes trained back on the floor. Maybe if you stared at it long enough, it would open and swallow you up. 

“This is my partner, Wolverine,” Deadpool said, his voice full of fondness even as he waved the gun pointed at you at the man. 

“Partner? How inclusive,” you said with an eye roll. 

“Business partner,” Wolverine clarified, making Deadpool gasp and pull his other hand to his heart. 

“We share the same bed,” Deadpool told you. 

“Shared! It was one time when,” Wolverine paused, “we fell asleep in a car,” he clarified again. 

“That hurts,” Deadpool said, putting his gun back in the holster, “just like you are now,” he said, kneeling down to the chair he tied your hands behind your back in. “It sure looks like it does,” he said quietly, his head moving down slowly as he looked over your sweaty, disheveled appearance. 

“They said it would kill you,” you whispered. 

“Who said it would kill me?” He asked,

You didn’t know why your mouth couldn’t form the words to tell them the name of the people you work for. Well, worked for. Just minutes before you were tied up, you were yelling into your phone at them, and then they fucking fired you for their fuck up. 

You felt it in your gut when they contacted you with the contract that only told you all you had to do was administer the poison and that it would do the rest, you should have turned it down.

“You didn’t tell me he couldn’t fucking die,” you yelled into your phone before Deadpool had shot it away. Maybe it had to do with the poison, you weren’t sure. You sure felt angry enough to spill who it was, but maybe it was because you were too focused on how when it had gotten on just the small sliver of skin that it did, your body lit up in a mix of pain and arousal. 

The feelings battled each other out all throughout your body, but one overshadowed the other when Deadpool ran a gloved hand over your crotch. Your head fell over the back of the chair and your mouth fell open as you let out a moan louder than you expected. 

“How about this,” Deadpool began, his hand tightening over the bulge that was your hard cock, “you tell me who sent you and we all go kill them together. After we fuck your brains out, of course.”

“We?” Wolverine asked.

“Then you kill me after they’re dead?” You asked, trying not to thrust your hips into Deadpool’s hand. 

“You lasted longer on this stuff than I expected, we could use you,” Deadpool answered. 

“For what?” You questioned, groaning as one of Deadpool’s fingers traced along the print of your cock through your suit. 

“Right now?” Deadpool asked, “to cum,” he said, giggling at his own joke, “but after that, you can join my strike team,” he said, already sounding excited. 

“What is that, a bowling league?” You asked. 

Deadpool doubled over in laughter, his head hovering right over your crotch. “I like a man that can make me laugh,” he said, wiping away an imaginary tear over his mask. “You better say yes to me fucking you because I’m as hard as the bowling balls that we’re going to use in our strike team slash bowling league,” Dead said as he stood up. 

“I’m sorry,” Wolverine interrupted, “we?” He asked again. 

“C’mon, Logan,” Deadpool said, turning to face the man, “you were definitely looking at his ass when I sat him down in this chair before I tied him up.”

“I just,” Wolverine– Logan cleared his throat before continuing, “didn’t want you to be too rough and break the chair,” he said, looking everywhere but except in the direction of the two of you. 

“Aww!” Deadpool cooed, “you do care!”

The next seconds, minutes, or hours, honestly, you didn’t know, went by in a blur you didn’t remember.  Almost like-

“Almost like they didn’t happen?” Deadpool asked, swatting at your bare ass, now seated in his lap, his cock buried deep inside you, “almost like the writer didn’t feel like adding a transition from where we were to where we are now?”

“What?” You asked. You tried to shake your head to clear away the confusion, and to try and shake off the heat blazing under your skin, but it didn’t help, “where are we?”

“My apartment,” Deadpool answered, holding your asscheeks open. 

“How-”

“Shh,” Logan whispered, “just relax,” he said into your ear, his hands on your hips, his body in the space of Deadpool’s spread legs. 

Relax for what? Deadpool’s cock was already inside you. Your mind was too foggy from whatever had gotten on your skin to form a coherent thought, let alone voice it. Lucky for you, Logan answered your question by pressing the blunt head of his cock to your hole, right where Wade already had you stretched open. 

“I can’t,” you said, trying to move away, but that only got you deeper in Deadpool’s arms. 

“You can,” Logan whispered into your ear before his cock plunged inside. And to your surprise, he was right. Whatever they did must have worked as your body opened up to them, making space for the both of their cocks. 

“You think they would give us the recipe for whatever the fuck they gave you was?” Deadpool asked with a groan as he fell back into the pillows on his bed. 

“Shut the fuck up, Wade,” Logan said, his voice rumbled behind you. 

“Wade?” You asked, your hands on his still clothed chest. 

“Wade Winston Wilson,” Wade responded, puffing out his chest with confidence. 

“Your parents named you after the internet?” You asked, tracing a finger down the zipper on the front of his suit. 

“I just got my cock inside you and I’ve already fucked you stupid,” Wade responded with a laugh. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Logan said, “both of you,” he said, choosing for himself that you were adjusted and ready for not just his cock, but Wade’s as well.

You wanted to open your mouth and ask why you were the one that was naked, but when Wade raised his hand to your lips, you instead took his gloved fingers into your mouth to mold your tongue around, not words. 

You bit down into the material, your teeth leaving indents into whatever his gloves were made of. They tasted like salt from where they were on your skin as you moaned when Logan fucked back inside. 

“Really gonna make me do all the work?” Logan asked under his breath, but you still both could hear. Which wasn’t fair of him to ask and expect you to respond, especially as he picked up his pace and his cock hit your prostate, clearing any thought from your mind. 

“You look like you have a good handle on it,” Wade answered, the lower half of the head of his mask rising and falling as he panted.

Logan grumbled out something you couldn’t understand before his teeth latched down onto the sweaty column of your neck, making you moan. The pain from his teeth sent a flare pleasure through your body, straight to your cock. 

It gave a twitch, which unbeknownst to you was your cock spurting ropes of cum over Wade’s chest. It took a second for your body to catch up, but once it did, your back arched as your cock continued to spurt messily across Wade’s chest. 

“Fuck!” Wade moaned, his other hand moving to your hips to keep you still from Logan’s movements as you clenched on their cocks. “Logan, look what you’ve done!” 

“It’s been a while, but I’m pretty sure this is what you wanted to happen,” Logan responded after he pulled his mouth away from your neck, your skin now singing in pain. 

“This is going to ruin my suit,” Wade whimpered before whining at the stimulation to his cock. 

“Sorry,” you responded, your body shaking through the aftershocks. 

“It’s not you, baby,” Wade cooed, the man rising to hold you against his chest, “Logan was too eager to get that weapon of his inside you to get our suits off,” he said, running his hands along your skin in comfort. 

Logan sputtered out a response, his cock throbbing inside you, “you were the one that-”

“Not now, Logan,” Wade interrupted, running a hand down your back, the action feeling possessive, “we’re a little busy, can’t you tell?” He asked, a smirk evident just by the sound of his voice. 

Logan growled, knocking Wade’s hand away before the one went to your shoulder and the other to your hip. Pissed off, Logan started thrusting again at a fast pace, his cock moving in and out of your body. 

Now past the aftershocks, their cocks provoked your prostate, the pleasure of it quickly making your grow hard again. From your shoulder, Logan’s hand moved to your neck to pull you back into a kiss. Logan kissed you slow and deep, like he was trying to show off what he could do because he wasn’t wearing a mask that covered his entire face like Wade was.

“You know all I have to do is lift up the bottom of my mask,” Deadpool said, his hips grinding up to get his cock deeper into your hole, like that was even possible, “besides. I want our first kiss to be special: a movie about a masked anit-hero, then a candlelit dinner, and finally, wine dine sixty-”

“Shut up, Wade!” You and Logan said in unison before your lips pressed together again, just to annoy the man even more.

[yuzupurpletaro]

Two years ago during lockdown, I spent my time creating Aziraphale's bookshop using cardboard and various other random materials I had lying around, creating this piece which I could slot into my bookshelf (now it sits next to my growing collection of @neil-gaiman works).

In celebration of Good Omens Season 2, I decided to post pictures of the completed project and the process here! It's my first time posting on tumblr, so forgive me if I'm a bit green.

Details and process below!

Before we ever got to see what was on the bookshop's upper floor, I imagined a bedroom, perhaps lived-in. Maybe a certain demon had moved in, along with their plants?

The teeny pride flag in the window is one of the subtle ways I sneak in a celebration of pride into my room, away from homophobic prying eyes.

My favourite details! I printed out both signs on Aziraphale's door, the images of which I believe I got from fans that posted them online.

Due to poor planning on my part, I started making this flower shop as well before I knew how it would fit in with the bookshop. In the end, they remained separate pieces. There was even a mini chalkboard sign for the flowershop, which I have no idea where it has disappeared to now.

It all started out in August 2020, when I put pencil to paper. Initially I wanted to create a street view, with the bookshop and flower shop on either sides. But honestly my brain was too small to figure out how that worked, so it didn't happen.

The most fun part was folding the tiny paper books. The least fun? Cutting rectangles out of cardboard and painstakingly gluing them down to resemble bricks.

Painting was alright, but on closer examination, the walls were all of different colours due to my inconsistent paint mixing. To ensure that what was essentially a cardboard façade of the bookshop could stand on its own, I created a pavement with added flowering shrubs and a lamp post. The street sign on the lamp post says 'Garden of Eden', which I now know should have been Whickber Street :)

And that's it! I believe I spent ~62 hours working on and off on it, and it certainly kept my lockdown blues at bay.

Can I hear a wahoo?

[hxzbinwrites]

Vox x Emotionless! Reader | Ignorant In Love

(Lovestruck Part 2)

Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Violence, Vox being annoying

————

4:30am

Vox woke up, yelping as he sprung out of bed. Not a great decision for his sore back as his clawed hand immediately went to brace it. Groaning, his eyes fluttered, attempting to recall what got him in such a tizzy waking up

Right. Another dream.

Vox had been, haunted, by that humiliating event last week. Even more so that he finally realize how incredibly enamored he was with her.

His screen flushing red at this realization of his current situation, Vox decided to rise out of bed. What good was sulking going to do?

Since that day, (Y/n) hadn’t smiled once more at him. Oh how he craves it. Vox acts like he doesn’t care, but he’s aching for another fix. Another high of seeing that smile. He would do anything and everything just to experience that euphoria one last time, just one drop of it.

Getting dressed for the day, Vox was looking at his bow tie collection, seeking out one of his favorite ties before realizing it had been ruined from the coffee.

Frustrated, he grabbed a random one from the pile, not really thinking too much about it as he put it on.

He stomped out of his quarters, his heels dramatically clacking against the floor as he made his way to his office. It was far too early in the morning for anyone to be active, too late for Val to be doing work (at least IN the office, and not at the club), so the quite walk gave his ever-running mind more time to think

What the hell has gotten into him?! He’s a VEE, THE VEE. If anything, this is woman should be loosing sleep and foaming over him!

‘That’s what I like most though’, He thought to himself,’She’s real. She doesn’t tell me just what I want to hear, or cause problems for me, she’s just…her, and she simply does it best.’

His internal conflicts were brought to an end once he finally sat down in his chair. Cracking his sore, aching joints, before booting up his monitor system.

————

8:30am

(Y/n)‘s heels clacked against the tiled floors, making her way to her desk. Her desk was one of those circular desks that curved around the middle and touched both sides of the wall. There was a small door on the side that she could enter from, but it blended in seamlessly with the black desk, so it would be hard for someone who didn’t work here on a daily to find.

Once she entered her cubicle-like desk, she logged onto her monitor, clocking in. 8:30am sharp, as always. She began to work on her boss’s meetings, but her eye caught a certain one for today “errand.”

This caught her eye, as Vox always made her run errands during work hours. Mostly for coffee, but she’s ran to the convenience store in the lobby for strange things as well.

“Hmm” she mumbled, before printing off the schedule regardless and putting it in her folder for later at 10.

That was her routine, print off the original schedule for the day, present it to him at 10, and if edits are needed, she’d come back and re-arrange some things, and repeat the process until it was to his liking.

(Y/n)‘s hardest part of the job was the PR portion of it. Normally, it’s for the PR team, but they got sick of the Vees tantrums and the entire department up and quit. Now, (Y/n) handles Vox’s PR, Velvette’s assistant handles hers, and Vox handles Valentino’s himself.

Speaking of PR, she was in for a doozy today. Last Friday, when the coffee incident took place, apparently Vox said some…choice words…to the Radio Demon, and Alastor relayed that information back to his listeners on his radio show.

Sighing, (Y/n) began typing a public rebuttal, going for the “deny and victim blame” strategy, as Velvette called it.

‘Why does Vox have to act so…stupid’ (Y/n) thought, her stoic face staying steady as her fingers flew across the keyboard,’For someone so smart, he sure acts dumb. Maybe he should just be a model for Velvette instead, he’s sure got the looks for it, but he doesn’t have the social skills for a public viewpoint like this-‘

“(Y/N). MY OFFICE. IMMEDIATELY.” Vox yelled.

Her eyes flicker up from her monitor, which was now adorned with two clawed hands gripping the top of it. Vox was leaning over it, his tall, slender frame allowing his screened face to intrude (Y/n)’s personal space, but it’s not like that hasn’t been done the before the weekend.

Locking eyes, he saw the flick of emotion run through her, he almost for a moment let his anger go, almost. He could hear her mumbling those things about him. About how “stupid” he was, his “dumb actions….how “he’s got the looks”….never mind that last part.

“Sir..?” She said, her face immediately turning back cold. Ah, there it goes again, fleeting like time itself.

“Don’t sir me,” Vox said, shoving the monitor who knows where. He crawled on the desk towards (Y/n), before grabbing her chin, pulling her towards him. The force from his arm made it where she was on her feet, but she was now hovering over her chair. Vox cocked his head at her, narrowing his eyes and he whispered towards her.

“I heard you mumbling about me over there. Insubordination will not be…tolerated, at this company. If you want to keep this job, and your soul, I suggest you meet me in my office.”

He let go of her chin, before sliding back off of her desk, and walking towards his office. Vox’s hands were clasped behind his back, as he glanced over his shoulder one last time to look if she was following him.

(Y/n) got up and started walking behind him, her face not giving away any emotion.

‘DAMN IT.’ He thought, his mood growing worse,’That whole little stunt was just to get a rise out of her. To get something!’

————

10:00am

Once they arrived in his office, the door slammed shut behind them. Vox’s electrical bolt from his fingertip locked the door, as he walked towards his chair, took a seat, and swiveled it around to see an unamused (Y/n) awaiting his words.

“So, (Y/n)” He started, his claws tapping against one another, “Would you like to repeat, word for word, what you were mumbling about me, or should I repeat it for you?”

“Okay, I asked myself why you acted so stupid. Your actions are ignorant and your social skills need heavy improvement.” (Y/n) said,”also, for your schedule today you have a meeting at-“

“No no no sugar.” Vox said, smirking as he crossed his legs,”Tell me everything you said.”

“I did” She lied, standing her ground.

“Ah, so Im not good enough to be a model anymore? That’s a shame, I would’ve loved to give you a show, but alas.” He sneered, trying to desperately to get a reaction out of her, but failing miserably.

“Ah, a shame indeed.” She said, deadpanned,”Now, todays schedule consists of one meeting with Valentino at 7:30pm and during your 3:30 slot all it says is ‘Errand’? Sir, I’m confused about that portion, don’t I normally run your errands..?”

Vox gritted his teeth, his hand now clenching the sides of his chair. This was getting ridiculous, no emotions out of this one. God, he should just pour an entire mountain of coffee on himself, muck up his PC and everything just to see her smile.

“I was originally planning to get my clothes back from the dry cleaners myself, but I see that as punishment enough for today. Do it and get out of my office.”

“A-Alright sir.” (Y/n) said. They locked eyes, and Vox immediately regretted pushing so far for a reaction. Her eyes showed hurt in them.

Vox couldn’t bring himself to say anything, his face contorted with many emotions. One side of him was over the moon, he made her show something! The other side was in immense regret, he didn’t want to hurt her, that was by far from the plan.

Once she left the office, he started throwing monitors again in frustration.

————

10:30am

(Y/n) didn’t even return to her desk, instead opting for a little stroll down to the convenience store down in the lobby. She picked up a drink and a candy bar to take back to her desk as a little pick me up

Well, she attempted to go back to her desk, she ended up just going to a secluded corner in the building, only adorned by a lonely bench, a plant, and a security camera in the hallway.

(Y/n) sat there on the bench, sighing from stress and she took a chunk of her candy bar.

Sitting there, she replayed the interaction in her mind once more. The way he was so, powerful, it made her cheeks dust pink, with equal parts admiration and humiliation as she smiled to herself, lowering her head. She softly chuckled before taking her wrapper of her snack and going to seek out a trash can.

Little did she know that Vox was watching her every move on his monitor, stalking every security camera that tipped off her motion. He was nearly short circuiting at her little smile. Vox noticed how her shoulders bounced as she chucked slightly. He really wished he could just call her into his office, but it was already time for her to pick up his dry cleaning. Sighing to himself, he adjusted his bow tie.

Out of his entire collection, he just had to pick the most irritating one out of all of them. It was entirely too tight and the material was so unpleasant.

Sighing, he just untied it and threw it on his desk, reveling a small sliver of his skin beneath it.

————

3:45pm

“I’m here to pick up Vox’s clothes.” (Y/n) said, making the worker scramble to go retrieve the Overlord’s clothes.

“H-Here you go ma’am! Do you mind checking to see if everything is in there? We don’t want to forget any article of our valuable costumer’s clothing!”

“Sure” She replied with her signature neutral expression, opening up the box of neatly folded clothes to see his entire wardrobe from that day, except something was missing…a key part of his ensemble.

“Ah, where is his bow tie?”

“Oh, did he not tell you? We had to return it to him, the fabric of it was too thin, it would’ve burnt up in the dryer.”

“Oh, well thank you.” (Y/n) said,”everything looks like it’s in order.”

“Have a good day!” The worker said, earning a nod from (Y/n) as she walked out of the dry cleaners.

‘He wore that bow tie often’ (Y/n) thought to herself,’ Maybe since I pissed him off earlier today, I can get him another to make it up to him.’

She strolled by the clothing district before entering the tailors shop, browsing the different selection of items for a while before the clerk cleared his throat.

“Ma’am, is there something I can help you with?”

“Ah yes, I’m looking for a bow tie with a certain fabric to it. It’s rather thin, I need a replacement.”

“You? A replacement?” The man chuckled, looking over at her,”I think I know which one you’re talking about, but I dare say I don’t think you’re in the tax bracket to be purchasing that.”

“I’ll purchase what I please.” (Y/n) retorted, her dead eyes looking into the man’s cocky ones

“Oh really? And who is this for?”

“Vox.”

The man started howling in laughter,”YOU?! FOR THE TECH OVERLORD?? OH PLEASE I-“

(Y/n) briskly walked over and slammed the man’s head down on the table.

“Yes. I suggest you make it quick due to your little interruption.”

“And why should I?”

(Y/n) gripped him by the hair, making his eyes meet hers,”Vox is my boyfriend, and so help me I’ll let him tear you limb from limb just because I said pretty please, now fucking do it.”

“Y-Yes ma’am.” He said, as she let go of his hair, he scrambled to the back room to give her a lavish tie. Instead of the navy blue one he had previously, it was near black with bright blue strips adorning the sides of the fabric where it curved in on itself.

“Hmm, this will do.” (Y/n) said, snatching the box before walking away.

“W-Wait, aren’t you going to pay?”

“Pay? You should be dead where you stand for messing with me today. This is your pay.”

And with that, she walked out of the store, leaving the man shocked.

————

8:00pm

Walking into Vox’s office, (Y/n) looked around to see Vox nowhere in sight.

“Ah right,” (Y/n) muttered to herself, despite the fact that very action got her in a tight situation with her boss earlier that day,”Meeting with Valentino. I’ll just set his stuff down here.”

(Y/n) looked around once more, before setting his clothes neatly on the desk. Patting it down to remove it of any lint that couldn’t accrued on the bag, before setting the nicely wrapped gift atop of it, adorning it with a letter signed to him.

————

9:00pm

Vox groggily walked back into his office, after his “productive” meeting with Valentino on his public image. Not a word went to that moth’s head. One ear and out the freaking other.

He closed his eyes, plopping down unceremoniously into his chair, not even bothering for the brooding dramatics this time.

Rubbing his eyes, he really contemplated calling it quits early tonight. But alas, Vox never does, that’s the mantra of a workaholic.

His digital eyes fluttering open once more, he gazed upon the clothes neatly laid there for him. Smiling he looked at it before his smile turned into confusion. Why was there a box? Wrapped with a ribbon…?

He slowly and gently grabbed onto the small box, unwrapping it like an inpatient child on Christmas morning, only to reveal a new bow tie, the one he ached for the entire day.

This one was nicer though, how she scrounged up some money to “buy it”, he didn’t know, but he was eternally grateful.

His eye caught the letter that was now sitting beside where the box was, it fell off when Vox took the box. He held the envelope and slit the seal with his claw like a letter opener.

“Dear Vox,

I sincerely apologize for this morning. I was out of line. I just don’t really know how to process everything. I feel like you’d understand being mechanical and all, but I don’t know how to process emotion.

Normally, I feel nothing towards anyone, but there’s something weird going on. This strangely warm feeling in my chest and my face, I feel clammy around you, and you specifically.

Feel free to ignore this, but here’s my number. Contact me if you are willing to help my predicament. Enjoy the gift regardless, you deserve it. Also, stop coming to work at 5 in the morning. You’re not sneaky, I see when you’ve clocked in on your schedule.

-(Y/n) (L/n)”

Vox was beaming, a pure genuine smile. He might be a lovestruck fool, but she’s ignorantly in love.

————

Word Count: 2,540

(Part 3?)

TAGLIST

@burningfishkidlamp

@koji-akeme

@callmechito

@neito327

@chocolat3pudding

@yellowsubiesdance

[seonghwaddict]

falling and sleeping — choi jongho

in which falling in love with you felt like falling asleep; natural and unnoticed.

best friend!choi jongho x fem!reader. genre. fluff, crack, friends to lovers. warnings. cursing, none he's just a little nervous. wc. 1.5k. rating. pg-13

lilo’s notes. hiii here's a fluffy little jongho fic because i love him. this isn’t proofread btw i’m sorry for any errors! also, my upload schedule is now on saturday's :3

listening to. from the start, laufey

masterlist.

“hyung!”

jongho burst into the living room of his shared dorm with wooyoung and hongjoong. hongjoong was nowhere to be found, likely at the studio or something, and wooyoung sprawled on the couch, watching a drama on the tv, scrolling through his phone, and taking occasional sips of his comically large coffee cup simultaneously. at the sound and sudden appearance of jongho, he looked away from the screen.

“something wrong?” he yawned, turning his phone off and dropping it on his chest.

“yes. i figured out my problem-“

wooyoung snorted, eyes drifting back to the television screen. “yeah? which one?”

“shut the fuck up, i’ll strangle you,” jongho paused what was supposed to be his dramatic monologue to glare at the dark haired fox-resembling man on the couch. he waited a second before sighing. “my y/n problem. i figured it out. so-“

“you have a problem with her?” at the mention of jongho’s best friend’s name, wooyoung’s attention was captured. if he had a problem with you, that meant something terrible must have happened. truthfully, wooyoung would hate that. he’d been rooting for the two of you for years, even if neither of you were aware of how perfect you were for each other.

“hey! stop interrupting me,” jongho kicked his shin lightly before continuing, “well, no, we don’t have a problem but things felt weird for some reason and i have come to a conclusion.”

“okay… and…?” wooyoung gestured for him to continue, his dramatic pause putting him on edge.

“i’m allergic to her.”

“… excuse me?” it was then that he decided to turn off the tv, giving his full attention to his younger friend.

“i’m allergic to her.”

“oh, for the love of-“ wooyoung groaned and threw himself back on the couch, screaming into a pillow, “CHOI JONGHO YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH HER!”

a confused expression crossed his face as he watched his friend’s dramatic antics and jongho sat down, forcefully pulling the pillow from wooyoung’s face. he should’ve found hongjoong instead, maybe he would’ve been more helpful.

“no, no, don’t be silly,” he tossed the pillow aside and spoke, hands flailing around to emphasise his point. wooyoung was on he verge of banging his head against a wall, “lately when i go near her my stomach itches and i feel all warm and sometimes it gets hard to breath and…”

the realisation that spread across his face was a picture wooyoung wanted to take and print out, plastering it on his wall and also adding it to his resume with the caption ‘i’m literally cupid.’

“… and oh my god i’m in love with her.”

a loud cheer left wooyoung as he sprang up from the couch, going on a five minute rant about how long he’d been waiting for this and how he always knew there was something. “you should go tell her right now.”

“w-what- no! i just figured out i’m in love with my best friend and you expect me to just… go and tell her?”

“that’s exactly what i expect,” he nodded, crossing his arms and leaning his weight on one leg, “didn’t she tell you about how she overheard someone say some guy from her workplace wanted to ask her out for valentines?”

“well, yeah… but-”

“no buts!” he held his palm up, silencing jongho. “you can’t let that home-wrecker ask her out before you. so, get your ass off that couch, change into something nice and go tell her you love her. and buy some flowers in the way.”

“it’s not home-wrecking if we aren’t even toge-“

“that’s besides the point, now do as i say if you ever want a relationship with her.” wooyoung rolled his eyes and turned on his heels, walking to where his jacket hung on the coat rack. he pulled out his wallet and, surprisingly, fished out his credit card to give to jongho. “this is for flowers and some chocolates only.”

and so half an hour later he was walking down the hallway of your floor of your apartment building, wearing an all-black ensemble of slacks a shirt and a trench coat, holding a bouquet of various flowers he didn’t know the names of in one hand and a small box of your favourite chocolate ms in the other. he could still abort and leave without you ever knowing he was there in the first place. you’d given him a key to the building a while ago, trusting him with it since your apartment was practically his second home.

he considered doing just that again, but the bought of you going out with another man who wasn’t him had his heart aching, giving him some courage to finally step in front of your door. he practiced what he wanted to say to you under his breath as he stared at the familiar dark grey door. when he thought he was ready, he reached out to ring the doorbell.

only to pull away at the last second and begging pacing back and forth nervously. eventually, he stopped, clenching his eyes shut and forcing himself to ring your doorbell. there was no going back now.

when you opened the door and you looked at him with your bright eyes and enchanting smile, he felt the nervousness in his stomach melt away and get replaced by butterflies and a soft pink tint on his cheeks. “oh, hey, jjong-“

“i love you.”

you blinked at him, not noticing the very obvious items in his hands, eyes fixed in his face. not quite understanding, you chuckled lightly, “you know i love you too.”

“no, you don’t get it. i mean, i in love with you. i fucking love you and i’m not sure if i’ve ever felt so strongly about someone in my life. i smile when someone mentions you, my heart flutters when i’m around you, fuck, when i see your smile it feels like all my problems have been solved and… your presence, god, it just fucks me up in the best way possible. i can’t believe i didn’t realise this sooner, but i’ve fallen for you, y/n. though, i suppose i didn’t realise it because falling felt like sleeping and sleeping feels so natural and easy that i never realised it until now.”

you stared at each other. he stared with all the admiration he could muster and you stared with mild shock and, under that, relief. “you… you love me?”

“oh my god, i… i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have- i’ve made things awkward, haven’t i? just- just forget that-“

you soft palm covering his lips drove him to silence, looking at you with wide eyes as you pulled him into your apartment, closing the door with your unoccupied hand. his heart skipped a beat as you grinned and whispered your next words.

“jongho, i love you—in that way—too.” you dropped your hand from his mouth slowly, looking down at the flowers and the chocolates, giggling, “you really didn’t have to get all this.”

you took them out of his hands slowly, avoiding his gaze, flustered as you placed his gifts on the marble counter of the kitchen behind you. he hadn’t said anything since your confession, cheeks burning and jaw dropped slightly. he couldn’t believe it. he couldn’t believe you liked loved him back.

he drew your attention to him, breathing out your name. “you… you love me too?”

“yes, you dense cabbage, i love you,” your laugh was melodic as you took both his hands in yours, nodding, “now shut up and kiss me.”

jongho’s expression finally changed into a giddy grin as he pulled his hands out of your grasp to hold your waist, leaning forward and brushing his lips against yours. when you didn’t protest, not that he expected you to, he deepened it into a proper kiss that he hoped conveyed his need for you. he felt like his knees would go weak as your delicate hands trailed up his torso to his head, brushing his hair absentmindedly as you kissed him back with equal intensity.

eventually, you had to separate to catch your breaths and jongho mentally cursed the human need for oxygen. he liked kissing you, your lips slotting together like puzzle pieces. when he felt like the tension had gone completely, he leaned forward to press repeated pecks to your lips, basking in the way you giggle and tried to meet each one of his quick kisses.

“i think i have a tiny crush on you,” you muttered once he decided he kissed you enough (it was never enough, really, but he wanted to let you breathe), fighting back a stupid grin.

“you think?” he snorted, one hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb tracing your jawline and eyes full of affection.

“yeah, a teeny tiny one.”

he laughed heartily, giving you one more peck “i paid with wooyoung’s card, by the way.”

“in that case you should’ve gotten at least five more bouquets.”

network. @cromernet

taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo

[iambilliejeanok]

🎀The lords plaything🎀

Geto x reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, breeding ,NSFW, explicit, squirting, hardcore, rough penetration, cunnillingus, fingering. This one really isn’t for the feint hearted.

🩷Monday Smut Day🩷

It’s not everyday that he gets to see you, pushing you up against the wall as he trailed hot kisses against your neck, and maybe the steaming hot make out session that grew hotter and hotter by the minute was him taking advantage of his own power, but having the powerful leader of a successful, wealthy cult, nipping and licking your neck as he aggressively ripped off each item of your clothing right off your body, was a blessing in itself. Maybe you earned this because of your hard work. You would indulge in it as often as it would happen, since your body belonged to no one but Geto-sama anyhow. “You’re wearing too much”, he spoke in between nips and pecks, ripping your pantyhose off as he growled against your neck, “you’re lucky I’m in a good mood, or this would piss me off”.

You felt guilty about the throbbing ache in your cunt as Geto scolded you, you loved him being this hungry, wondering if you should continue to piss him off in future. Finally ridding you of your pantyhose, you were left in a dark blue two piece lingerie set that seemed to please your god, Geto taking a step back to admire the way the lacy attire complimented your chubby figure. “You baaad girl”, he said, slowly closing the space between the two of you, smacking your pussy hard enough to force you to yelp right in his face. He smiled to himself, pleased with the reaction he caused. “Did you put this slutty little attire on in hopes of pleasing your god?”, he asked, almost growling as he spoke, dragging his fingers up your thick thighs so hard, you just knew you’d be bruised tomorrow. Feeling slightly intimidated as usual, you quickly nodded your head, “Yes Geto-sama, I prayed that you’d get a chance to see me today”, you whimpered.

“You know, you’re my favourite little slut”, he snickered in your ear, your heart skipping a beat at the realization that you weren’t the only one, feeling rather disappointed. You thought what you shared with him might have been special. You almost thought you were the chosen one. That maybe you’d become the new Mary, your heart began to ache, but not for long, as Geto suddenly took you into a fiery kiss, palming both your cheeks in his warm hands. His hands were always warm, his lips so soft as they melted against yours, distracting you from your heartache enough to enjoy him against you again. You whimpered louder than you wanted to when he broke the kiss, watching him slowly kneel down before you. You swallowed, Geto never taking his eyes off of yours as he hooked your panties with his middle finger, just other hand lifting your thigh to rest on his shoulder as he pushed your panties to the side.

He couldn’t resist burying his nose right against your bare clit, making you gasp as your hands immediately rested on his head. “Fuck, will I ever get enough of you huh?”, he asked, his hot breath right against your pussy, making you slightly squirm where you stood. Without warning, he gently pinched your clit between his index and middle finger, slowly massaging it between them. “Ooooh!”, you couldn’t help but moan, the sensation delicious, but not enough to get you anywhere. “Now now”, Geto spoke, smiling over your reaction. “Did you do what I had asked you to?”, he asked, his mouth so close to your clit as he spoke. “Huh?”, you asked, snapping out of your haze, your cheeks warm from the naughty look in his eyes. You gasped loudly when he pinch your clit harder, the answer immediately coming to mind. “Uhh, yeah…I’ve already p-printed out all the intel and m-made an extra copy too. I’ve also o-organized the extra music classes for the girls, everything’s p-paid for the rest of the year”, you spoke, trying your best to not shy away from his gaze, biting your lip as he continued squeezing and rolling your clit between the pads his fingers. “Good girl”, he said, releasing your clit only to replace his fingers with his mouth, his hot and wet tongue getting you all hot and wet too, well not that you weren’t already soaked from just being in his presence. You couldn’t suppress the soft moans escaping your lips, his free hand reaching for your breast, pulling the blue lace that covered it down before cupping it, moaning right into your heat, the vibrations coupled with his fingers now tweaking your nipple, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure from your tummy to your toes, realizing how close you already were. Stopping his administrations for just a second caught your attention, looking down at him to see what the reason was. “You taste wonderful as usual, I could sit here and eat you forever, but we have that meeting with the prime minister in ten remember?”, he asked, “yea”, you replied in the softest voice, your eyes leaving his for just a second to eye your torn clothes spread out over the floor. Without warning, Geto penetrated your sopping heat with just his single finger, shoving it down to the last knuckle, smiling at the sharp scream that left your lips at the sudden intrusion. The stretch burned, afterall, you weren’t used to this, the only man you ever shared your body with for the past two years was Geto, and he only fucked you on occasion, when he was bored, or when he had the time.

Your back arched off the wall, Geto placing his big hand on your lower tummy to push you right back against it, biting his lip at the feel of your heat trying to swallow his finger up further, your walls clenching on it in want. “Geto-sama!”, you moaned, “Geto- sama doesn’t have a lot of free time”, he smiled, “So let’s finish this up quickly shall we?” And with that, his mouth was on your clit again, sucking and licking your throbbing bean as he began moving his finger, pulling out to the tip only to shove it all the way back in, his hand on your tummy keeping you right up against the wall as he circled his finger deep inside of you, pressing against your walls before repeating the action. And like the god you knew his was, you felt yourself reaching your peak, accidentally banging your head against the wall when you threw it back, your mouth hanging open as your fingers dug through his long, soft, black tresses. “I’m gonna cum!”, you cried out, Geto patiently repeating his actions, pulling his finger out only to roughly shove it back inside of you, circling it around to massage your walls, before slowly dragging it out to just the second knuckle, now slowly dragging it back and forth over your gspot. You couldn’t bare how amazing you felt, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your leg shaking over his shoulder as you finally came, hot pleasure running through your body in waves of heat as your orgasm washed over you, Geto’s mouth still sucking on your clit, his finger continually rubbing on your gspot, a little slower now that it clenched him in ways that made his dick twitch under his robes. He moaned when he tasted your liquids finally running into his mouth, lost in the way you screamed and cried his name, gushing into his mouth as he continued to devour you. He remembered the time, immediately ending his pleasurably cruel actions in between your legs.

Quickly he lifted up both your thighs, pinning you against the wall, ignorant of the way your body thrashed in his arms, too impatient to wait for you to come back, using one hand to move his robes out the way, his throbbing erection springing up. He grabbed his length, stroking himself a few times as he watched you try and catch your breath, your body limp in his arms. He lined himself with your pussy, letting gravity help him slam himself all the way inside of you, ripping a scream from deep inside your tummy. “Fuck!!!”, you screamed, burning all so deliciously as Geto filled and stretched you out much much more than his fingers did. You could never get used to the size of him, throwing your arms around him and holding him tight. “You ready angel”, he asked, “y-yeesss”, you cried and without another word, he began thrusting into you, pulling himself out all the way to the tip before slamming himself back , circling his hips to get in as deep as he could, your fingers gripping his robes and pulling on his hair. Every single thrust made you scream, your body shivering in his hold as you came for the second time. He couldn’t care less about the mess you made on him, your pussy swallowing him up and squeezing him, hugging him tight with every thrust. It was all worth it to him, and he wanted you to cum again, his hands gripping your thighs so tight as he continued to slam himself inside of you, bottoming out so deep a ring formed at the base, the sounds your squelching pussy made as well as the sexy praises that left your lips drove him closer to the edge. He couldn’t handle the desperate and clingy yes’s, mores’ and “geto-sama’s”, that fell from you lips over and over again, your pussy clenching him tight as you squirted for the third time. He couldn’t resist how tight you squeezed him, Geto finally cumming hard, shooting hot liquid deep inside of you, making you scream as you felt him fill you up. He bit into your shoulder, hard enough to leave a nasty mark, your pussy milking him for every lost drop he had to offer. “Fuck!”, he growled, unable to pull out of you just yet, your heat still tightly wrapped around him.

Geto still held you up, your body so weak and limp in his arms, and you were grateful for the support, not sure if you’d be able to stand on your own. You were both panting hard, Geto planting kisses all over your neck as your cries turned into soft whimpers, your pussy finally able to release him. Before he pulled out of you, he turned around, his legs also a bit numb as he gently placed you on the nearby counter top, spreading your legs wide as he slowly pulled out, the hole that was so tight around him now gaping wide. He placed one hand on your tummy, pressing down hard enough to make you whimper loudly , his white fluid finally seeping out of you, spilling onto the floor in drops. He absolutely loved the sight, feeling himself growing hard again. He had to fight the temptation to fuck you once more, remembering the meeting that probably already began. He stepped away from you, and your slowly fell to the floor, the counter top not wide enough to keep your entire body on it. “I’m going to clean up in the bathroom, I’m sure the meeting already started. I’m gonna fuck you harder later on for making me late”, he said, his voice a tad bit horse as he spoke. He turned around, leaving you naked and weak on the floor, and you watched his back as he walked away to the door. “Clean yourself up and get your ass to that meeting in five”, he said as he reached for the handle, turning around to face you one more time, “or else I’ll really hurt you tonight”, and with that he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

Sometimes he was nice enough to help you clean up, but today he was rather upset. He’s probably just stressed about the meeting, you told yourself, your heart skipping a beat when you realised you couldn’t stand up just yet, your legs still jello and your pussy aching from the rough penetration. Hopefully you could make it up to him by tonight, because you weren’t too sure if you’d be able to gather yourself in just five minutes, and to make matters worse, your clothes lay torn on the floor a few feet away from you.

Fuck

[a-living-canvas]

Leaky Fine Print

Maybe it's the torture, or something else, really. Caretaker couldn't pinpoint what exactly happened to their poor Whumpee. But it started after his recovery. Sure, Whumpee was back to eat again, and talk, socialising with people…but Caretaker wouldn't have expected him to be—

"Whumpee, put your legs down."

Caretaker said to the ignorant Whumpee who draped his legs on the table while reading a book. It's not…so Whumpee to be doing that. He's a polite and gentle kind man. But the sigh of frustration coming from him broke Caretaker's heart a little.

"I was asking nicely."

"I know."

"Then why the—"

"Why the attitude? Caretaker, can you mind your own business? You are not my parents."

Stunned, Caretaker huffed out a sigh and stood up from the couch before they walked to the kitchen. Whumpee leaned back on the couch, grumbling.

"[curse word]"

Caretaker stopped on their track. Their fists trembled slightly as they fought back tears. This is too much, Whumpee is too much.

Caretaker turned to face Whumpee, a look of anger evidenced on their face. They took a deep breath, their voices came out sharp with a hint of vulnerability in it.

"You are being very rude right now, you know?"

Whumpee raised an eyebrow, looking at Caretaker with a slight glare. The same way Whumper would do every time Whumpee tried to act defiance. "And who are you to tell me that?"

"Whumpee, this is not—"

Whumpee slammed the book shut against the table, startling Caretaker. He gritted his teeth, jaw clenching as he could feel the frustration bubbling at the back of his throat.

"You don't know anything about me. How much I suffer, the things that Whumper made me do. His mind games, his…all the disgusting things he did to me." Whumpee stood up from the couch, closing his distance with Caretaker who immediately backed away. "I was going through horrible things and you don't even care about me."

Caretaker's eyes widened, "No, no no Whumpee I do care about you! It's just…you…you've changed…! And I…I miss you…"

Caretaker tried to grab Whumpee's arm but the other just shoved them away. "It's Whumper, okay? It's all because of Whumper that I become like this." He sighed, looking at Caretaker with a tired expression, "Is that so hard to understand?"

~

"Shh…shh…I know. It's okay, I will talk to him, hm?" Team Leader said, rubbing Caretaker's back gently. Whumpee who was just about to return to his room stopped walking as he heard a few sobs coming from the living room. 

Peering behind the wall, he saw Caretaker crying on Team Leader's shoulder. Was…was it because of him?

"I-I don't know what happened to him, he's just…gone!"

Uh oh. Maybe it was because of him. He made Caretaker cry. That's enough to make his heart clenched uncomfortably inside. Maybe he should— no, no. It's not his fault. It's Whumper's.

Whumpee entered his bedroom, plopping down on the bed with a loud sigh. He didn't want to admit it, but it kind of bothered him a little. He shouldn't feel guilty about it…right?

Whumper was the one who made him like this, like him now. And it felt so good and…powerful. He could stand up for himself because of Whumper, he didn't have to burden himself with other people's problems anymore because of Whumper. 

Whumper, whumper, whumper

"It's not me…" Whumpee closed his eyes tightly, burying his face deeper on the bed sheet as the guilt slowly gnawed at him. But deep deep down in his heart, he knew it wasn't true. 

~

Prompt idea by @karmaiscalledsunny

~

@nothing-but-glitter-and-lashes @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @failgiao891 @jennyyy007 @possumhoe @theforeverdyingperson @heyyitsworld @risk606 @valravnthefrenchie @firebourne21

@electrons2006♡

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

Request-ish for great 7 au if you dont mind, but what kinds of pictures do you think the g7 keep of yuu? Whether in like a photo book or their wallet or whatever? (Also if you dont mind maybe what their favorite photo of yuu is as well?) Love your writing have a good day!

A Picture of Yuu

Trying to ease myself back into writing and decided to try this out as a semi request! Gn yuu per usual, minot spoilers for ch 2— This is based of my Great 7 fic Unit:Yuu!

Notes: I do not know what kind of Arab Jafar is Aba/Baba for him, please let me know if this incorrect—

Queen of Hearts + Jabberwock

The Queen of Hearts has always been a zany one to say what photo she has of you that she adores on any given day would be difficult. In short, she loves them all!

It is such a shame that instant photography wasn't a thing back in her era, she would have taken so many photos of herself and Wonderland and she would have loved to show you all of them, it would certainly save the Jabberwock from having to explain so much.

The Queen watches you from afar as she drifts into her own thoughts. How she would have loved to take you into Wonderland with her and have your portraits done together.

Perhaps you could take your camera with you and you both can record all the memories you make together? How fitting would it have been to have photos of you in your wackiest poses and outfits up on the walls without having to get each one painstakingly painted?

She watches you rest the Jabberwocks head on her lap, and a smile graces her face at the sight of her little Rose with her greatest warrior. Should she still have her kingdom, she would have barked orders for the royal painter immediately.

Perhaps she doesn't have a favorite photo or picture of you because it hasn't made it yet, and as you take a photo of you and her with the Jabberwock all together (a photo you will undoubtedly hide from Crowley), she realizes she would never be able to find a favorite, as all she wants to now is to keep taking more.

Scar + The Hyenas

Scar has seen Rafiki's artwork before, and he was never impressed by the crude cave paintings he made, especially the ones that represented him.

If Rafiki were to have made one of you, however... he wouldn't know how to feel.

Even then, he much prefers these cameras and their strange instant paintings, after all he has never looked better in them! They really catch his good side!

Scar would huff in faux uninterest when he sees you pointing the camera around and taking photos of those three idiot hyenas around Ramshackle. And when you take photos of him he certainly doesn't strike a pose on purpose! (He snarls at Ed who even thinks about mentioning the idea.)

Still even as you show all of the photos you took, even of the ones of you, the hyenas, and him, it can never compare to the old "photo" of you and him together that he keeps hidden.

Cub is what he called you. To him, you were one. He was teaching you how to hunt with those Hyenas, how to sneak up on your prey and attack, and your victorious smile as you helped them take down a gazelle.

He remembered his muddy paws dragging across stony ground as Banzai carried the gazelle carcass with him, the group of hunters having to take it to the fire so you can eat.

Scar noticed how you suddenly stopped in your tracks and stared down at the ground. Annoyed, Scar huffed telling you to hurry up, and when you went on your knees and poked at the ground below you he snarled and circled back to you

That was when he noticed you were staring at his paw print in part of the ground. Your child self seemed to glow when you saw it, and you took your own muddy and bloodied hand and put it right over his print as if comparing sizes. When you took it away, he saw your small handprint right on his.

He may have actually have had a soft moment with you then and there if it wasn't for the hyena's prodding. Upon seeing the hand and paw print, Ed immediately remarked on how he wanted to do that too, and put his own next to yours, then Shenzi and Banzai, ever competitive, started arguing about doing the same, shoving each other out of the way to put their paw down as well.

In the end, all of your prints were together in a way that oddly resembled Rafiki's dribble. "Are you all satisfied now?" He huffed, snarling, "Now go! All of you!" He barked making the hyenas walk off and you follow. As you all walked off he tore up that part of the stone from the ground and carried it in his mouth, following the cackle closely behind with it.

He despised the way some child managed to worm his way into his heart and yet here is years later with you all grown up, and he still has the stone tablet hidden away for his eyes only. He refuses to let you see how soft he has gotten for you.

Shenzi definitely knows of it and tells you about his secret, prompting Scar to try and kill her.

Ursula + The Eels

Oh dear, now that's a question all right.

If it was up to her and she was able to have had you down in Atlantica, she would have hung so many paintings of you and her poopsies on her grotto walls, your chubby baby self was adorable, you know?

She often has fleeting thoughts of being the one to have brought you up under the sea. Just her a single mom and her three kids as her accomplice in villainy. How she would teach you how to brew the most powerful potions and run a good business...

Even now, she watches the curious glint in your eyes as you explore NRC and takes photos of everything, she's happy you have started to discover who you are.

You naturally take a lot of photos of her new makeup looks, along with your eel brothers wearing matching drag with you. She loves to pick up the Polaroids and commits them to memory, swiping her thumb over herself along with her children's faces lovingly.

It was during one of your weekly drag/makeup nights together. You had on some dramatic trashy show in the background as you all talked and did makeup. You kept one of your eyes closed ad Flotsam hangs on your neck like a scarf, using his tail to hold a brush and dab on eyeshadow while you work on Jetsam's eyebrows. Ursula smiled at the sight of her children bonding.

The peace didn't last long, as you made a particularly shady remark about that crow bastard causing Flotsam to cackle and squeeze you slightly, and Jetsam to slap you fave lightly with his tail.

As the Sibling Codex states, you all now must duel in a free for all and allow no survivors. There are no rules to uphold any honor.

Standing up, you pried Flotsam's body making him loosen the grip around your neck, and flung up the arm that Jetsam was anchored on.

Comically, the dangling eel slapped the camera sitting on the coffee table up from where it was and snap a photo.

"Jetsam! I swear if the camera is broken—" "Hey you're the one that flung me!"

Picking up the camera and looking it over you let out a breath of relief before checking out the film that came out

"Come here dear let me see..." Urusla spoke as you walked over.

Though slightly blurry, the photo featured all of you. You had a bright smile on your features as did your siblings who were smushed into you as fashionable accessories. In the background, Ursula sat elegantly admiring her children. And though she wasn't the center of the photo, she loved to see her children happy.

Were she were back in her grotto, this photo would have been displayed as one of her most prized possessions.

Jafar + Iago

It wasn't often he dreamt, but when he did, he dreamed big. He was Sultan of the Sands and the most powerful sorcerer of all with you as his heir by his side. Sure, Iago would be there too he supposes...

He would rule with an iron fist and bring about a Golden Age for his kingdom while tutoring you on the side, teaching you laws and ideals and the most powerful spells he knows. There would be all sorts of depictions of the two of you, mosaics, tapestries, poems, paintings, and perhaps even a few statues as well.

You would both be depicted as you should: powerful and intelligent... and Iagos there too he guesses...

So imagine his surprise when his favorite photo isn't a pretentious one at all.

When you first got your camera, he took pride in being photographed and always posed his very best, he wouldn't stand for any unsightly photos you may try to take. He would stand tall with Iago on his shoulder and staff in hand, evil and powerful. He would hate to be depicted as anything less.

As you set up the ghost camera on the stand, you start to take a few experimental photos as well as test out the timer function on it. Honesty it was thanks to Jafar it worked, his intuition and knowledge of technology were always remarkable.

"Any more trouble from that device, Yuu?" Jafar's voice snaps you out of focus as you turn to him standing in the common room, Iago perched where he usually was. "Nope not anymore, thank you Baba" you smile as you check out the camera again.

"Want to try and take a photo with me to test it out?" "If you mean one of those 'selfies' I will have to refuse!" "No, no, not like that I promise!"

Arching a brow and heaving a sigh Jafar relents. You get to work setting up the camera before running over to pose with them. You watched as the timer counted down... 4...3...2...

Suddenly, you throw yourself into Jafar in a deep hug as Iago squawks indignantly. The flash goes off. Sputtering for a moment as he takes a moment to adjust himself, he huffs. "What was the meaning of that Diamond?" Jafar snaps as he shoots you a glare. "Yeah that's the big deal?!" Iago cawed.

You smirked as you snagged the Polaroid out of the camera and aired it out with a few shakes before showing the pair.

The photo showed you pulling Jafar closer to you, holding onto and nuzzling into him dearly like a toddler would do their mother. He actually wore the slightest smile in the photo. Iago's wings were spread and for once he looked like the lively bird he was and not some villainous lackey.

"I have a lot of photos of Jafar and Iago, but none of my baba and my friend" You muttered holding the photo close to you. "But now I do, and don't worry it's for my eyes only... I would hate to ruin your image.

Jafar shuts his eyes for a moment, perhaps he was unintentionally and unknowingly strict. "No no, retake the photo, little one." He says as he holds your shoulder. "Let's take another photo as a family this time."

Jafar and Iago both sat on the rickety couch of Ramshackle as you set up the camera again before running back and sitting next to them. Iago hopped into your lap as you hugged the vizier. Jafar looked down at you both lovingly before wrapping his arms around you gently, allowing the camera to snap, and like that, his favorite photo of you was made.

Queen Grimhilde + The Raven

Ever since staying in Ramshackle, the Evil Queen would dream about being back home in her palace. She would walk down the halls of rooms and for a moment pretend the floors were stone and echoed with her steps and not creak under her weight. The walls were to be lined with intricate decor and tapestries along with art, and as she walks into your room to look at the mirror, she imagines it's her vanity where she would admire herself.

Raven stood on her shoulder preening her and she shut her eyes imagining the glory days when she ruled but this time she imagines herself with you at her side.

How you would sit on the stool in front of her vanity and look at yourself in the mirror as she clasps a necklace onto you after she finished dressing you up. How you would walk beside her amongst the guards and servants as she enters the throne room which used to have a lone throne but now has two.

How you would both sit regally as she deals with nobles and teach you how to rule with an iron fist and to be your worst possible self. How she would take you to her garden and poisons and teach you how to grow and use each one, later taking you into her study to practice your potionology.

You deserved much better than this place in her eyes, and once she gets her body back she will ensure you both rise to power once again. Even if you are currently living in a... less than ideal situation she will have you carry yourself with the same level of respect and pride she feels like you should have.

She shows you which plants can be used for hair and skin and makeup. She shows you how to embroider your clothes and sew. She shows you proper manners for everything as well— no child of hers will be taken for a slob. Your elegance hides your wild side and villainous upbringing well, only showing it to those who are worthy.

Her ghost sits across from you in the guest room, a glass of tea poured out for her in her honor though she can't drink from it. You finish up your latest piece as you push the needle through a few more times. Letting out a breath of relief, you tuck away the needle and hold out the new dress shirt you made in your preferred style. "Good work," she says approvingly as the Raven lets out a squawk, and you both continue to chat about your day.

The next day, you put on the shirt you worked so hard on, slipping on the right pants, shoes, and homemade accessories to match. Today, your mother decides to help you put on some light makeup, her ghost guiding your hands to apply foundation.

She then helps you put on your accessories and she is reminded of the fantasy she had the other day. "Thank you, Mama." You say smiling. "I guess this is my first official... complete outfit..." You didn't any decent clothes to start with since coming here, and even when you wore nicer things, you could never truly make it your own, you couldn't have your own style. Yet in the mirror you see all of your hard work put into sewing and saving, creating an outfit from your mother's love.

You look at yourself in the hand mirror you own as the Queen holds your face lovingly. "Shall we take a photo to commemorate the occasion?" You ask, smiling. "Ah yes, that ghost camera of yours can see me, can't it?"

You nod and begin to set the camera up. The Queen never cared for the photos it took, preferring the status symbol of oil paintings in her castle. As you stood next, she helped to pose you at the perfect angle, adjusting your posture and such as she stood beside you, hand on your head.

The photo came out, and it was as perfect as she would imagine it to be. Admiring it, she thinks back to getting her power again and her castle back, and for some reason, the first thing she imagines doing is to recreate this portrait with you, this time in paint, and the highest quality clothes you want.

Hades + Pain & Panic

His favorite photo of you? One where you look your best, one where you look powerful and strong and— oh wait his favorite photo of you?

When Hades found out the ghost camera can register him, he and his imps were over the moon. You best believe you had to make him look cool. (You gave in because Hades was never given the same respectable portraits compared to his family).

Every photo of him portraying him positively... touched my heart. He wasn't the unwanted brother or the laughing stock, outcasted and forgotten. He was Hades, God of the Underworld.

The imps also loved any photos of them taken positively, but they also didn't mind the funny ones too. Honestly, these two were absolute menaces with the camera, often stealing it and taking the worst photos of you.

Though you have some photos of yourself, or with your friends, none of them ever truly called out to Hades. He would simply see some as neat or use photos to lovingly bully you. Yet when he thought about it, all of his siblings seemed to always have some sort of art piece representing their children, he remembers Zeus and his insane amount of photos of his brat when he was born after all. He can't help but sort of desire one... but what?

For a good, while he can't help but look at all the photos you take and pay special attention to the ones that you were in— you best believe that if you have a photo with one of your friends he's gonna tease you for your "boyfriend".

As he goes through them he tries to find one that feels like it shows off his kid well, yet he can't. You look good in all of your photos, but you didn't feel like you. That's the one thing he's noticed since coming here. You couldn’t be your true self, you weren't allowed to bare your teeth and be truly free the way you should be.

Hades actually stews on this for a while silently, Pain and Panic bother him about it much to his chagrin. As the days went by Hades seemed to get more and more and more annoyed by your environment sucking the life out of you. Homework was annoying, Ramshackle sucked, and that damned crow bastard keeps dumping responsibility onto you! How is his kiddo supposed to shine like this?!

Recently, Crowley dumped another annoying task onto you— something stupid about looking into clumsy kids. You hated it but got Pain and Panic ready to help you as you went about interviewing victims and such. It was rotten work.

Maleficent + Diaval

Eventually, with your idiot squad, things picked up, and you came up with the idea of catching the perpetrator with your camera, as Crowley states he needs evidence. One thing led to another. Here we are in the Savanahclaw Dorm, facing the lion down face to face. Pain and Panic stood on either side of you as you stood your ground, stance widening to prepare for a fight.

And fight you did. Hades watched in absolute awe as you fought against the blot, rolling and sliding past attacks while seizing any opportunity to get a hit or to create an opening for your friends. Pain and Panic both helped, occasionally lashing at Leona to throw off his aim or providing your some healing and shielding with their shapeshifting abilities.

As the dust settled, and the sun rose higher in the sky, your silhouette stood amongst the rubble as you panted, fists still clenched. You had a powerful aura around you along with a steely gaze as you stared down at the lion beneath you. Panic suddenly pops up, ghost camera in hand as he snaps a photo. "How's that for proof?" he snickers alongside Pain as you finally relax.

The photo standing over your opponent had exactly what the other photos of you lacked. There was a fire in your eyes, a confident stance, and though dirt-covered and sweaty, you were unapologetically you in the moment. Not to mention badass.

Yet that wasn't the only reason Hades adored it. The image reminded of him Zeus' brat he despised. How that damned Hercules would be painted and shown off everywhere as a legend with his powerful stance, often standing over the slain monsters that Hades meticulously put together to defeat him.

And yet... here you were: A mirror image of him, a perfect foil. And unlike Hercules, you were still here and so was he. That brat failed to kill him. Through his child, he has won... Ha! Take that, Zeus! Just wait for round 2! This time, he won't fail.

Maleficent is also one who doesn't understand newer technology. She simply can't wrap her head around a device that makes portraits instantly without magic. After a bit of explanation from Diaval (who still doesn't know much), she simply accepts it.

Like Grimhilde, the Fae much prefers painted portraits, and often finds herself imagining how you would look in one every time she sees one of your "selfies".

The Fae Queen finds it endearing that you want to take photos of her and your dear uncle Diaval, trying your best to make some good memories in this miserable place. Even on your nightly walks together, you bring your camera with you to photograph the wildlife around you.

Seeing your features light up just by seeing the smallest bug makes her feel a strange sense of pride as if this proves you belong to her and the forest of the fae. She's glad to know that enjoys nature just as much as her.

Passing by a small pond, the three of you pause for a moment. Diaval, in his crow form, is happily perched onto your shoulder, nuzzling and preening you as you give him a few scratches and look up to the night sky above you. As your eyes reflect the stars, Maleficent is reminded of a fond memory.

You were a child at the time, to be honest, she couldn't tell you how old you were, at her age, all children start looking the same.

The fae was coming to terms with being a ghost— a ghost stuck inside a child no less— and she certainly did not appreciate it. How could such a pudgy and idiotic vessel possibly be worthy of the Mistress of All Evil?

She would sneer at the idea of growing attached to you. Even as your child self waved and smiles at her, she snarled in response, baring her fangs at you. To her surprise, you merely giggled. She wasn't amused.

No matter how many times she snapped and told you to go away, or order Diaval to distract you, you would always come back to her eventually. She just didn't get it, why do you like her so much?! Under the guise of not wasting her breath or energy, she stopped trying to distance herself from you, allowing your small baby hands to play with her cloak or touch her horns. You were a curious little beastie, weren't you?

She remembers watching you grow up little by little, watching your kid self play with Diaval as a crow and give each other affection, how she cast protection spells on you as you ran through the forest barefoot, cursing any sharp stones you may step on.

She remembers guiding you as you picked berries and copied the animals you saw. She remembers singing you lullabies and telling you stories of her home, hoping she could take you to it. Her warnings about trusting men.

She remembers how unequivocally she fell for the child that melted her heart, and how she assigned Diaval to you, making him promise to always watch out for you and to serve you as he did her.

And she especially remembers how you approached her with a scribbled-on, crumpled sheet of paper. You babbled as you held up the piece to her. Kneeling down with her usual stern expression, she examined the scribbles closer.

Crude lines depicted an all-black horned figure holding a staff in one hand, hand awkwardly stretched out to touch hands with the tiny figure in the middle. An attempt at a blackbird was drawn in the other outstretched hand of the child, its best open in a caw. All of the figures had clumsy smiles. Arrows pointed to all of the figures labeled 'Me' 'Malycent' and 'Diovl'

Diaval perched on Maleficent's shoulder, getting the best look he could before swooping in and nuzzling your kid self. As you laughed and giggled Maleficent allowed a small smile to grace her features as she watches you play.

To this day, she still has the piece of paper in her cloak, enchanted with the strongest protection spell she could do in her current state. In her mind, no other portrait than the one you drew could ever compare.

Perhaps one day when she rules from her thorny castle, she will have this art piece framed in her study, for her eyes only.

[rubendiasthoughts]

Rough sex with Ruben Dias - headcanon:

- Whenever you misbehave or give him some attitude he is definitely fucking you so rough to teach you a lesson. So maybe imagine this: you two are out somewhere, and you keep teasing him, creeping your hand up on his thigh, getting dangerously close to his crotch. He sends you a stern look, but you ignore him so after a while he leans in to you and says "stop that". You keep ignoring all of his warnings, so after a while he's had enough and he decides to take you home. The ride back home is quiet, but the moment you make it through the door, he pushes you on the wall, your cheek flush against it, your back arched, your ass pressed to his crotch and he grabs your hands and holds them behind your back. He leans in to you, "When I tell you to do something, you fucking do it, understood?". He uses his hand to bunch up your dress over your hips and he delivers a harsh slap to your ass, his other hand still holding yours behind your back. You would let out a whimper " Yes, I'm sorry". He smirks and deliveres another hit to your ass "Oh you will be sorry once I am done with you, sweet girl". He puts your panties to the side and pushes his cock in you, giving you no time to adjust. He fucks you hard, groans leaving his mouth. When he feels you are getting close to your orgasm, he let's go of your hands and puts his hand around your neck, he uses the grip he has on your throat to pull your head back, only making you arch your back even more. He keeps thrusting into you roughly, his cock so deep in you. You rest one of your hand on the wall, trying to steady yourself. Your other hand reaches behind you, trying to push him away a little, while you let out "I can't, it's too deep". He pushes your hand away, pinning it to the wall " Should have thought about it earlier baby, now you are gonna take it like a good girl". He shows you no mercy, keeps thrusting in you harshly until he cums deep inside you, all while saying stuff like "Is this what you wanted? Wanted me to fuck my cum deep inside your sweet pussy, huh? " straight to your ear.

-And the way he would always manhandle you. He would throw you around, making it seem so efortless, like you are lighter than a feather. He would just put you in any position he wants you in. He would throw your leg over your shoulder, push you into the bed with your ass up, pull you to the edge of the bed and fuck you standing up. He loves reminding you how much bigger and stronger he is than you.

-I feel like he would love to fuck you in doggy, because it gives him so many possibilities. Your ass is right therein front of him to slap. And he would spank you until he leaves red prints of his hands on your cheeks. He would love to watch his cock go in and out of you. It's also so convinient for him to just put his hand on your back and push you into the bed or grab a fistful of your hair and make you arch your back or just put his hand around your throat and pull you flush to his chest (or he could just wrap his whole arm around your neck, kind of putting you into a headlock, flexing his bicep). It would be so easy for him to slip his hand in front of you and rub your clit or play with your tits. And whenever you try to get away from him, overwhelmed by the pleasure he is giving you, he would grab your hips harshly and push you back on his cock.

- And of course, he loves to praise you while fucking you roughly. To me this is literally definition of soft dom - his actions are so harsh, he shows no mercy, but then his words can be so sweet!! So I think he would be calling you a good girl a lot, telling you how good you feel and how thight you are for him. Just things like "fuck, this pussy was made for me" or maybe even "best fucking pussy I've ever had". But I also think he would sometimes mix praising you with degrading you! Basically he would say things like "fuck, taking me so well, like a fucking whore" or maybe "you are such a good girl, such a good little slut for me".

- And before he gets to actually fuck you he would love to tease! His sole purpose of doing this would be to get you to beg for him. Maybe he would just slide his cock up and down your pussy, without actually putting it in until you are whining for him to fuck you. And when he hears your little pleads he would say something like "you think you deserve it? Maybe I should just fuck your mouth instead, huh?". He would literally make you cry out of desperation.

-And he would for sure love it when you cry from how good he is fucking you. Or when you are pushing on his chest, trying to run away from the pleasure because it's so intense - he wouldn't budge even an inch. He would be obsessed with pushing you to your limits. And I feel like sometimes he would kind of mock you during it. Maybe just by saying things like "I thought you said you could take it" or "you were whining for me to fuck you, now stay still and take it". Or when he sees tears streaming down your face he would say " Cry all you want baby, it will only make me fuck you harder". But you would definitely have a safe word just in case, although I think he would know your limits pretty well.

- When he fucks you in missionary he is definitely into some intense eye contact. When you are not able to keep your eyes open he would slap your face or maybe grab your throat and give it a squeeze - "eyes on me or I will stop". Sometimes he would put his thumb in your mouth and make you suck on it and look deep into his eyes while he's fucking you, all while telling you to be his good girl.

-I have already talked about how much he would love to cum inside you (in the boyfriend headcanons). As I said he sees that as a way to mark his territory, but I think he would feel very similar about getting to cum on your face or on your ass. Just imagine him forcing you down on your knees, grabbing you by your hair and harshly pulling your head back. Maybe sometimes he would pull out of you right before his orgasm hits him and he would cum on your pussy, smearing his seed with his thumb. Maybe he would even take pictures (he would probably keep them in an album with an additional password to it, just to make sure no one else could see them). I imagine him saying "look so pretty painted with my cum, gonna let me make a little souvenir baby? ".

- Even if you are on top, riding him he can still be so rough if he wants to. He would pull your hair to expose your neck to him and kiss it, biting it from time to time. I feel like he would bite your tits sometimes too - cause they are right there in front of his face when you're bouncing on his cock, so he naturally has to give them some attention. And whenever he thinks you are going too slow he would slap your ass, groaning in your mouth "c'mon, don't be fucking lazy".

Thank you to the person who suggested this idea! ❤

Let me know if you liked it 🤭

[seoafin]

dog days are over | chapter two

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru warnings/tags (for this chapter): none except typical gojo behavior word count: ~4.1k

fic masterlist read on ao3

You are in a store, looking at an intricately carved wooden grandfather clock, when you suddenly stand upright and look around. Satoru and Megumi are nowhere in sight, or even in the antique store for that matter. The last thing you remember was following Satoru and Megumi in the crowd. Satoru had been on the phone receiving unpleasant news, from the look on his face. But then you caught a glimpse of the clock you had spent the last ten minutes marveling over in the storefront window, and your legs had done the rest. 

It’s a fine grandfather clock, undoubtedly out of your budget, but beautiful nonetheless. It's large, about the length of Satoru actually, the fine wood nearly red and carved into delicate spirals on the side, with gold touches overlaying the clock window, the second hand slowly ticking away.

You catch your face in the reflection of the glass panel, and you ponder it. One day you were a child, peering into your mother's vanity mirror, inspecting your features with the indifference of a toddler. Then you were a motherless girl, in near tears at how your father would cringe away from the familiar set of your nose and lips. You don't think your face has changed much from high school. Unless it has?

You wonder how you appear to others, what they see when they look at you.

You step away, searching for your phone in your bag. It’s not until you blindly reach for the familiar shape of your phone that you realize you don’t have it. You must have left it at home.

Satoru would find you…probably. 

The man at the counter dips his head in a farewell and you smile back as you step back outside. The gravity of the situation hits you. This is troubling. Satoru and Megumi…the park is a possibility. They could’ve also gone to the department store too. Your best bet is to….stay put. If nobody comes in the next ten minutes, you’d head to the department store. 

You stand outside the store, watching passersby. All types of people. Schoolgirls, couples, businessmen, older women and men. All people with lives, oblivious to cursed energy and jujustu sorcery and all the dangers that lurk in the dark. In another life, you would be someone. Maybe you’d be walking home from work. Maybe you’d be walking to see your parents, to a house that doesn’t exist anymore, not in this life. You’d be a working adult, or maybe you’d still be in school, just like you are now.

A woman walks right by you, laughing while on the phone. There is a brightly cut diamond on her ring finger. She doesn’t look much older than you. In fact, she might even be your age. You wonder about the circumstances of her marriage. She might not be married yet. She could’ve just been recently proposed to. 

In another life, you could’ve been just another girl on the street, happily engaged and chatting eagerly to a friend on the phone about wedding plans.

Your world tilts a little to the left at the revelation.

“Heya missy,” a man says, walking up to you. You note the open collar of his cheetah print shirt, the sagging waistband of his pants. There’s a lit cigarette stuck between his teeth. He’s so close to your face that the ashes of his cigarette fall onto your shoes. 

“You waitin’ on someone?”

“I am,” you say patiently. “He should be here soon.”

You hope anyway. Maybe you’d just make your way to the department store regardless.

“Leaving a beautiful woman like you waiting?” He laughs, blowing a fresh face of smoke in your face. “This fella doesn’t know how to treat a woman like you.”

Perturbed, you take a step backwards into the wall, but the man steps forward, closing the distance once more.

“C’mon,” he says. “Me and you. There’s a karaoke bar near here…”

“I’m good.” You turn to start walking to the department store.

The man’s tone turns ugly. “Now wait a min—” You feel fingers brush your wrist. Satoru is not there and then he is, and when you register the blur of his presence and distinctive cursed energy, he is pulling the man up by his wrist. The man struggles with Satoru’s height, toes raised in an attempt to stabilize his footing.

“Leave before I break your hand,” Satoru says tonelessly, tipping his face down to meet the man’s eyes past his sunglasses. “Out of my sight.”

Satoru lets go of the man’s wrist, and he falls, stumbling to the ground. You see a flash of his bruised wrist. He doesn’t even spare you a glance as he runs away.

“Thank you,” you say. He shouldn’t have gone that far though. You don’t think it’s right to be harming civilians like that. Especially to help you, of all things. You’re about to speak up again, when he turns to you.

“You.”

His eyebrow twitches once, temporarily marring the cool expression on his face, and you think that maybe you should’ve just gone to the department store after all because there’s a very real chance he is annoyed at you.

You suddenly find the ground very interesting. Satoru’s shoes enter your vision. And when you finally look up at him, his fingers are flattening the collar of your button up shirt, fingers grazing your bare neck where his gaze rests.

“Maybe I should get you a collar and leash,” he says casually, easily, as his fingers begin to button your shirt, out of the top three you neglected when you initially put the shirt on. The first, then the second. “Since you keep forgetting yourself.” The third. Your shirt is buttoned to the collar. He clears the hair from your face to behind your shoulders, fingers brushing your neck. 

You stare at him. He meets your gaze unabashedly. You don’t know how to feel about the fact that Satoru just called you a dog. A lost, blind dog. Sometimes, you know him as well as you know the back of your hand, and sometimes, you think he’s completely incomprehensible, speaking in a language only Suguru can understand. 

You blink. A sudden thought strikes you, and your eyes go wide, sweeping all around you. “Where’s Megumi!?”

Before a passerby can bump into you, Satoru tugs at your arm, bringing you into his chest. He takes your hand, fingers entwined around your own, and leads you. “I left him in the park.”

You’re horrified. How can he be so nonchalant about leaving a child in the park? “Satoru—”

He exhales, shoulders temporarily sagging in a contained effort. “Megumi’s a big boy now!” He exclaims, grinning. “If he can’t survive 20 minutes by himself, he’ll never survive the life of a jujutsu sorcerer.” He frowns. “At least Megumi remembers his phone.” And that's more than we can say about you, isn't it?

That brings you to silence. You…You knew Megumi would likely never experience a normal life but you still wanted to grant him whatever semblance of normality you could. You’d make it up to him somehow, feeling guilty that you had yet again, thoughtlessly wandered off. A habit Satoru remarked about over and over as headache inducing. It wasn’t as nearly inconvenient when you were alone, with nobody to answer to.

The two of you find Megumi on a stone ledge, drinking from a water bottle while clutching three pink shopping bags in his arm. And Satoru left him with Mimiko and Nanako’s Christmas presents. You shake your head, unable to even find the words. 

“I’m sorry.” You say apologetically. “Were you waiting long?”

“Not really,” he replies. You wince. He’s lying in consideration for your feelings. You take a seat next to him.

“Tell me everything you want for Christmas.” You are serious. You have a few things in mind for Megumi’s Christmas presents, but if he had his own thoughts and ideas, then even better. “Satoru will buy you whatever you want.”

Satoru snorts. “That’s some nerve you got there.”

You ignore him. Megumi peers up at you, and you resist the urge to take him into your arms and squeeze, unsure if he’d take it well.

“What was it?” He asks. What caught your attention?

You are embarrassed all over again, especially since you can feel Satoru’s own interest. “There was a…clock.” You clear your throat. “Should we get dessert?” You lift your head, and see a crepe truck parked at the far corner of the park. “How about some crepes?”

You watch with Satoru as Megumi walks towards the crepe truck, money gingerly tucked in his hand, a smile on your face. It feels like just yesterday he was seven and barely up to your waist, expression oscillating between blank indifference and a scowl. He had been at the age where you could wrap your arms around him and feel his small body cling to you back. Children grow up quickly. Megumi, Tsumiki, Nanako and Mimiko. It makes you both incredibly sad and proud. Now Megumi is at an age he can buy crepes all by himself because you expressed interest in eating dessert.

…Or maybe he just wanted to get away from Satoru. The smile on your face grows wider. Some things just didn’t change. Satoru could get married. Suguru and Shoko too. The three of them would eventually leave you. But your relationship with Megumi would never change. At least, you hoped. 

Satoru clears his throat. You blink, taken from thoughts, and turn to him. You see that he’s taken off his sunglasses, head angled forward to allow his eyes to take center, flashing in a calculated, pointed look, and you are already bracing yourself for some kind of inane request. Or so you assume. You resist the urge to turn back forward and ignore him.

“...?”

His voice is light. Almost pleasant. “Don’t you think you’ve been spending a little too much time with Megumi recently?”

You are wholly unsympathetic as you stare at him, tilting your head to the side. “...That’s a little pathetic of you, don’t you think?”

His bottom lip juts out in a displeased expression, bordering on a pout. Though you aren’t sure if it’s because of the blunt manner in which you replied or your actual response.

“...”

You feel…a little bad. Especially because he won’t stop looking at you. The days where you could comfortably ignore him have seemed to pass. The two of you aren’t in high school anymore. And you’re not the same person you were in those days you could indifferently brush off Satoru’s crude comments and easily irritable attitude.

“I like spending time with Megumi,” you say lightly. Suguru’s so good with the girls that sometimes you worried Megumi felt left out. Not because Suguru didn’t make an effort to include him, but because there was only so much a ten year old boy had in common with his similarly aged sisters. So the two of you went off together in search of bookstores and record stores in Jimbocho, tried your hand at arcade games (and spectacularly lost in a fashion that Satoru would undoubtedly make fun of you for), tried different types of matcha at the department stores, and more.

You’ve never considered it a chore or babysitting. Megumi’s silence was different from Satoru’s constant activity, his overwhelming presence you’ve watched others get easily drawn into. Or even Suguru’s dominating calm and peace. On some level, the two of you understood each other. You think if anything, it was nice to be understood without any words needed.

Satoru does not look appeased. “More than you like spending time with me? ” With Suguru?  

You wonder what has him so agitated lately, if the incident earlier could be indicative of something more, something that’s been troubling him. You don’t know who had called him earlier, or the contents of the call, but you think it has everything to do with Satoru’s recent moods. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him so antagonistic. 

“Of course not,” you say evenly, carefully, but his mouth drops in a greatly aggrieved gesture, as if you’ve just told him you killed his dog.

“Liar!” He exclaims, purposefully raising his voice and inviting several curious glances from onlookers and several women who seem both invested in the potential drama and Satoru’s good looks. “Just who do you think you’re fooling!?”

You sweat. “Satoru…” You see a man turn to the woman next to him and mouth couple fight . You’re inwardly mortified. Satoru straightens. “I really can’t speak to you while you’re like this.”

“He gets you more than I do,” he huffs, crossing his arms.

You blink, before staring down at your lap, feeling warm enough that the chill outside doesn’t feel as cold. You meet his gaze. “You…miss me?”

“No needa sound so surprised,” he says unhappily, eyeing you as if you’ve said something wrong. You seem to be making a habit of saying all the wrong things. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. 

It hadn’t occurred to you that Satoru and maybe Suguru and Shoko too, missed you as much as you missed them. You didn’t expect Satoru of all people to tell you as such. Your smile grows wider. He misses you. It’s an oddly vulnerable declaration, especially from Satoru. 

He impatiently taps his foot. “...Don’t you have anything to say to me?” 

You laugh. “I love you too Satoru.”

A strange look crosses his face. You aren’t sure if he’s pleased or displeased at your words, but you’ve never been one to shy away with your own declarations of love. You love him, you love Suguru, you love Shoko. You love the kids. You hope they all know how much you love them, so much that you’d do anything for them. You think your love, in all its meager, useless glory, for all its joys and sorrows, is the only thing you have to offer.

Satoru only looks at you, and takes a seat next to you. His fingers brush yours. “I’ll make you take responsibility for those words, you know," he muses. "One day."

The two of you watch Megumi wait in line for crepes. You rest your head on his shoulder. “You don’t need to get married if you don’t want to.”

He exhales roughly, confirming your suspicions. He doesn't need to ask you how you know, or anything else. “Is that what you think?”

“I don’t think it matters what I think,” you close your eyes to the heat of Satoru’s body. “What do you want?”

There’s a silence. When you open your eyes and raise your gaze, Satoru is looking at you. 

“Everything.” 

It’s an answer very characteristic of him. A smile nudges at your lips as you straighten yourself. “As long as you’re happy.” Then nothing else really mattered, did it? Maybe you were selfish for wishing it. Everyone’s happiness at the expense of everything else, but you found that you didn’t really care. If Satoru decided to quit the life jujustu sorcery tomorrow, you’d support him. Just as you’d support Suguru and Shoko and whatever Megumi and the girls wanted for himself in life.

“I do feel a little bad though,” you admit truthfully to him, sheepish. “I wish you’d still at least drop by those matchmaking ceremonies.” It makes you sad to think of all those women, working themselves up to look their absolute best, ignored and disappointed because Satoru couldn’t be bothered. You know it was expected that Satoru would do whatever he wanted, just as he always has, but it wouldn’t kill him to say a nice word or two before politely excusing himself. Though, if anything, it seemed Suguru was undertaking that duty for him.

Satoru makes a face that confirms your thoughts. As if even the mere thought of it all is a much too bothersome task.

“Suguru says they’re all very nice girls.” Great conversationalists. Mostly disappointed at Satoru’s lack of interest, some relieved. They had interesting thoughts and opinions, but very rarely an outlet for them, which made Suguru’s kindness even more meaningful.

“Does he,” Satoru comments dryly. His voice drops into a mutter. “If he likes them so much he should just marry one.”

You look at him sympathetically. Satoru probably isn’t used to feeling jealousy. You’re not sure of what to say to him, so you settle on covering his larger hand with your own, and giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Nobody could ever replace what the two of you are to each other.” You pause, deciding there’s really no way to approach this topic lightly. So you bluntly say, “Is everything alright between the two of you?”

He flips his hand over, tightly interlacing your fingers as he looks straight ahead, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation. “Just don’t understand him sometimes.”

You can’t help it. You laugh. Satoru raises an eyebrow, but you’re too busy laughing to respond right away. It’s been a while since you’ve been so thoroughly amused.

“I’m,” you let out the remnants of your laughter, shoulders trembling, “sorry.” You shake your head, straightening. “Instead of not understanding him, are you sure you’re not frustrated because you know him too well?”

You think in Satoru’s case, his frustration is born from an overt understanding of all things Suguru more than a lack of understanding. It’s because he knows Suguru so well he also has to recognize that, like himself, Suguru can be more than implacable. Stubborn to the point of nonsense. Stubborn, just to make a point. Satoru knows Suguru as well as he knows himself, from the inside out. But Suguru isn’t Satoru, and sometimes their conflicting opinions cause more strife than necessary, especially considering their competitive streaks and antagonistic natures.

Satoru opens his mouth to rebuke you. Then he shuts it, resigned. You’ve won.

“Suguru’s just being being polite and kind,” you point out. You don’t point out that you’re sure Suguru would never entertain the affections of a woman he knows Satoru wouldn’t like. That there are many things the two of them have agreed on, and this would just be another. “You never know when you might need a friendly face in the crowd. I’m sure Suguru’s thinking about the future.”

Satoru’s existence was regarded as much as it was scorned, feared. The strongest jujustu sorcerer who would only grow more into himself, into all the abilities of limitless that the six eyes afforded him. The strongest. A once lonely title now shared. You don’t want Satoru to be feared or reviled, despite Satoru’s own indifference towards it. And you’re sure Suguru shares that sentiment. If Satoru has spurned jujustu society, then Suguru has embraced it. This is Suguru’s way of navigating jujustu higher society and politics, subtly crafting and pulling strings and favors, maintaining illusions of hierarchy and power, dangling promises of power and advantageous relationships. All in Satoru’s absence.

Or, more rightly, you suppose it’s Satoru letting Suguru take the reins. 

For all its many flaws and hardships, this is a world Megumi and Mimiko and Nanako will inherit. All of them have been hurt very much. There’s so much work to do to make it hospitable, inhabitable. To grow a garden where there was once a barren wasteland.

Satoru is looking at you oddly. Like he’s trying to convey to you something you don’t understand, all through the intensity of his gaze.

“?”

He quickly masks it with a conspicuously suspicious look. “You’re taking his side, aren’t you?”

You smile, shaking your head when Satoru’s thumb starts massaging circles into your hand. “I know better than to get in between the two of you.” Your smile turns a hint sheepish. “But…Suguru says that they’re all very nice girls. You never know…” you trail off suggestively, thinking of Suguru and his charmed white lotus girl. “There could be a girl—”

“Absolutely not.” There’s a finality in his voice that gives you pause.

“That’s okay too,” you say slowly, shrugging. Satoru has always known what he wants. Maybe in the end, all Satoru wanted was Suguru, and what could you say about that? You only wanted Satoru to know that love came in all shapes and sizes. If you could love him and Suguru and Shoko, then it was only reasonable to think another potential lover between the two was possible. Besides, the future was unpredictable. You knew that better than most. Maybe not now but… 

You squeeze his hand tightly enough that it should be uncomfortable, but Satoru doesn’t even flinch. He returns the squeeze, his hand so large they nearly engulf your own. You don’t remember his hands being so big. And then the two of you are squeezing each other’s hands, trying hard not to laugh. You’re glad the tension has somewhat left Satoru’s shoulders. There’s a lopsided grin on his face as you meet his twinkling gaze, and you are struck by the thought that he looks like a delighted child on Christmas, and you think everything is right again. If you could help him (and even Suguru to an extent), you’d be happy. Everything will be the same when you see the two of them again. It makes you think of living another life, and everything you’d be missing if the misfortunate events of your life hadn’t happened.

You watch as Megumi is handed two crepes. He begins to walk back, carefully balancing them in his grip.

“Earlier,” you say. “I was thinking about what life would’ve been like if I had never become a jujutsu sorcerer.” You think about the woman who rushed past you earlier, and the glinting band on her finger. Her palpable happiness. “I don’t know who or what I would’ve been in another life, but the fact that I’m here says something I guess. Right now, right here, I’m content.”

You have more than enough. You could never ask for more. You’d upset the precarious balance of the universe somehow. The same forgiving universe that had somehow deemed your unworthy existence deserving of happiness. As fleeting as you knew it to be. You were content. It was more than you knew you’d ever get.

Satoru goes silent, face discerningly blank. “Is it enough?”

“It is.” You’ve never needed much. You had grown up without much love at all, and to still somehow find so much of it was something of a miracle you were thankful for everyday. “It is, for me.”

The two of you sit in silence. A girl falls down in the sandbox, scraping her knees. Sitting upright, her lips wobble, fingers curling into her thighs as she tries not to cry. Seconds later, her father scoops her into his arms and they walk away. You become aware of your heart dully beating in your chest. 

“I would find you,” Satoru says calmly, gaze burning. “In another life, I would still find you. The three of us would be together.”

The words fill something cavernous and aching in your chest. A wound that never healed right. A wound that grew as you did. Something that makes you selfish and sad and always leaves you wanting. It’s a dangerous thing.

You don’t know if you love or hate it. The inevitability of it all. The promise of happiness in his words. Satoru doesn’t break his promises, but you do. It’s why the both of you try not to make many in the first place.

You find yourself smiling. “You’ll get my hopes up,” you joke, resolving to take his words as just that, a joke. You’ll get what you deserve, one day. In this life or the next. Expecting any different would be…

Satoru opens his mouth to respond but Megumi returns, sticking Satoru’s crepe in his free hand. When Megumi takes your free hand with his own, he hands you the crepe the two of you decided to share. You stand, moving to be released from Satoru’s hand but his grip on you tightens. 

You shoot him a look. “Satoru, let go.”

“I won’t,” he says with a scowl that says that the two of you have unfinished business. You would prefer he wouldn't. To Megumi: “How much to take a walk around the park by yourself?”

You are appalled. You hope your gaze conveys how pathetic he is being. “Satoru…”

Megumi takes a bite of the strawberry crepe. “No.”

Satoru sends the boy a flat stare that Megumi meets with his own. You finally yank your hand away from Satoru’s with an exasperated huff, and an overdramatic betrayed look crosses his face as he gapes at you. You smile at Megumi as he offers the crepe, which you take a bite of.

“Let’s forget about him,” you say pleasantly, swallowing a mouthful of sweet cream. The two of you start walking towards the street.“Should we stop by the record store on the way back?” You’d buy him any record he wanted. It was so hard to spoil Megumi. You liked to do it at every opportunity. It was your guilty pleasure despite all you had read about moderation for children. 

“Yeah,” he quietly agrees. “I’d like that.”

The two of you leave Satoru behind in that park, a double chocolate nutella banana crepe in his hand.

[scholastic-dragon]

Kiss on the corner of the mouth with the Purple menace? (Whichever movie/cartoon iteration you prefer)

But could I suggest framing it like a reaction thing?

And the girlfriend is generally shy most of the time. Except she was the one to make the first move asking him out. The one to initiate hand-holding and now the first one to give a light kiss. So she's sorta ballsy to an extent.

Maybe it gets steamy when Don realises he's been holding back for nothing.

yes I love this

I'm doing Rise Donnie cause I feel like that works the best!

Rise!Donnie x Fem!reader

Holding Back

Warnings: both Donnie and Reader are over 18, don't throw a fit there are no minors here, spelling mistakes, smootches, first time making out, up against a wall kiss, almost feral donnie,

Being bold wasn't exactly something you were used to.

As Mikey put it, you liked to hide in your shell. You got nervous and overstimulated quite fast, so you preferred to let others take the lead.

But with Donnie, you almost had to take the lead. You were the one to confess your feelings while eating pizza on some roof somewhere after midnight.

The one to plan dates and snuggle up into his side during movie nights. You reached for his hand when he was walking you home after movie nights and gave him extra long hugs goodbye.

And while Donnie never stopped your advances, he didn't actively make any.

You knew he struggled with affection, but sometimes it felt like he just didn't care.

Thankfully, his brothers and April constantly reminded you and showed you the little things he did that proved he liked you.

Your name in his contacts had a little heart, his lock screen was a selfie you both had taken, you were his emergency contact and your hand print had been added to the lair's security system in case of emergencies.

For Donnie those things were huge acts of trusts and it gave you comfort knowing those things.

Now you were walking hand in hand after movie night, he had just helped you up the fire escape and opened your living room window. You both stepped inside, and you couldn't help but stare at him. He, of course, was oblivious.

"....anyway, Raph and Leo wanted to go to another wrestling match this weekend, so I should be able to clear my schedule enough to make time for another date."

Oh shoot, had he been talking this whole time?

It was easy to get distracted looking at him, he had a strong jaw, handsome cheekbones and broad shoulders and arms.

"Y/n?" He waved a three fingered hand in front of your face.

Shoot! He was still talking!

"Uh...what?"

He shook his head. "Are you feeling alright? You've been zoning in and out all night," He pressed the back of his hand to your forehead.

You laughed, feeling yourself blush. "Yeah, just thinking,"

"Yeah, aren't we all," Donnie smiled, looking down at his watch. "Well, it's getting a bit late,"

"Right, goodnight, honey, I'll text you in the morning on my way to work," You weren't sure what came over you, but you leaned forward, kissing the corner of his mouth.

He froze, eyes squinted, standing still as stone: it didn't even look like he was breathing. You almost thought you broke him.

"What...?" He choked out, thankful his blushing wasn't as obvious as yours.

"It was a kiss goodnight," You chuckled, silently hoping you didn't make him uncomfortable.

"Are we at the kissing stage?" He asked with full seriousness, still not moving.

"Um...yeah, I guess we can be," You laughed softly, shrugging your shoulders.

Donnie inhaled sharply, coming out of his trance and stepping toward you. Lifting his hands, he cupped the sides of your face, tipped your head back and started to lean in.

Oh, geez, was he really about to do this now?

As gently and softly as he could, Donnie pressed a kiss to your lips. You sighed, relaxing into his embrace, your arms travelling up his wrists and squeezing his biceps.

As you kissed him back, you felt something switch in him. his arms went rigid and he sucked in a deep breath.

"Donnie?" You asked breathlessly, and that only sent him over the edge more. Pulling you in a circle, Donnie pressed you against your living room wall, right next to your still open window.

Using his plastron he kept you pinned against the wall, his arms gripping your hips and roughly squeezing your sides as they traveled up.

He kissed you again, this time much harder, teeth and tongue and groans getting lost between your bodies. One hand slipped behind you, curling around your lower back and reaching across to grab you hip, making you hook your leg around his waist.

At your gasp, his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring and learning every part of you.

Your hands massaged up his arms, then his shoulders before twirling his bandanna tails around your fingers.

Feeling a burning in his chest, Donnie pulled away, a thick strong of saliva connecting you both. Panting and chest heaving as you stared at one another.

Through his heavy breathing you heard the faintest chirps and purrs coming from him.

You giggled softly, pressing your forehead to his.

"That was...." Breathlessly chuckling, you gave him a quick peck.

"Yeah, I...um, I didn't know if you were comfortable or okay with us kissing, so I just refrained from trying,"

"Why on earth would I be uncomfortable kissing you?"

"I'm a turtle," You both chuckled softly. "By all accounts it seemed like a simple no,"

"Does this seem like a 'no' to you?" Wrapping your arms tighter around his neck you pulled his chest flush to yours, your lips ghosting his. Your leg pulling on his hip to keep him close, he widened his stance to hold part of your weight.

"It most certainly does not,"

tags: @turtle-babe83 @thelaundrybitch @sketch-and-write-lover @happymoonangel @sewerninno @strawberrycakeblog @dilucsflame33 @knightish-knight @tmnt-tychou @sharpwindow @eveandtheturtles

[idlerin]

HYPNOTIZED, MESMERIZED

guitarist!suna rintarou x assistant!f!reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | extra

the ikarus incident (band au)

+ word count: 3.5k

note: enjoy the tooth rotting fluff babes

he was your boss, but sometimes, he was more than that.

SUNA RINTAROU is your boss, but some days he feels more like a friend. Like now, with the both of you sprawled on his couch, a beer in hand as the two of you unwind in the form of lounging lazily after a hectic day while complaining about your workmates.

“He was so rude, was all like ‘how would you know?’ with that look— you know his look? That I’m-better-than-you-you-trash as if he was actually doing something worthwhile!” you munch on the chips you were eating angrily. This was also one of the times where you lose your composure around him. “I resisted the urge to snap back at him,” you frown, “I shouldn’t have. Who cares if I’ll suffer through his death glares in the next shooting?”

“Next time you should put him in his place,” Suna says tipping his beer towards you, “I’ll help you, I still hate the way he dressed us up in fucking neon that one time on live television,” he shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink, your eyes briefly glanced at the way his adam’s apple bobbed and promptly turned away.

“The one from 3 years ago? When Atsumu went viral for twerking in his hot pink tutu?” you ask, brows furrowed, suna groans at the memory. “I remember that! My friends were talking about IKARUS— well they were always talking about your band— but more specifically ‘tsumu and his pink tutu! That’s why the nickname tsu-tsu became famous in your fandom right? You were stuck with that zebra print cowboy hat and neon green sunglasses,” you laugh.

Suna throws a pillow at your face and you laugh even more. “I think it can still be found on the internet right?” you smile cheekily at him and put down your chips and beer to reach for your phone.

“Don’t even—” Suna tackles you to take your phone away, you let out a squeal because you didn’t expect him to freaking jump you. Now the both of you were on the floor with him hovering above you, your phone raised over your face, him gloating that he got it while you groaned because he was purposefully putting most of his weight on you.

“Get off,” you grumble, you watch as he throws your phone on the couch without making any move to get off of you, so you try and push him away on your own but he’s like an ironclad wall, a muscle-y ironclad wall. You know he works out, of course you do, he slaves you around in the gym with him! But you didn’t know he was this strong.

“Are you enjoying putting your hands on me, sweetheart?” Suna teases and you immediately put your hands away.

You made the mistake of looking into his eyes. It was full of mirth with a hint of something else you can’t pinpoint while he was staring at you. Maybe it was the beer— yeah you were going to blame it on the beer— that made you think ‘he’s really pretty when he’s like this’ although nothing compares to when he’s on stage, you think he’s really hot especially when he— stop.

“Are you so mesmerized by my looks, [name], that you can’t say a thing?” he taps your nose, “You’re so cute.”

Heat spread on your cheeks and you hope that it’s darkly lit enough for him to not notice, “That’s not what I was doing,” you glare, reaching out to the side and getting ahold of the pillow he threw at your face just a moment ago and shoving it on his face this time, catching him off guard and making him ironclad-no-more as you roll away. Once you get out, you look down at his laughing figure clutching the said pillow as you glower, “And I’m not cute.”

He tilts his head to the side, “You are. Also, you said your friends always talked about my band. Does that mean you did too?”

You made your way back to the couch and laid on it, stretching your legs and making yourself comfortable, opting to act as if you didn’t hear him.

“So you did? Aw, were you a fan too?” He sounds far too happy about it.

“I partook in some of the conversations,” you admit in defeat, “I liked some of your songs,” now that one was a lie, you liked their music so much you have all their albums, but you were never the type of fan that was immersed in the members themselves, and you’ve never been to any of their concerts too, well, before you started working for him.

“So..” he goes and lays his head on the edge of the couch, beside your stomach, “Do you want an autograph?” he jokes, you ignore him again as one of his hands reach for yours and he starts playing with it, you let him, even though you know you guys were beginning to have one of those moments again, you’ll blame this on the beer too.

“And to think I thought you didn’t even know I made music when you showed up in my studio for the job, you had this really strict deadpan face on, but you were secretly a super fan,” he continues, drawing circles on your palm.

“I was not a super fan,” you refute but he ignores you, this bastard, you picked up the ignoring thing from him.

“I’m surprised you’re letting me hold your hand,” changing the conversation and tugging on your hand to make a point. You sigh, you’re not sure why you’re letting him hold it too.

“Rin?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“Get up," you order your boss. It was 7 in the morning on a sunday and you were not happy about being woken up from a series of calls from the other side of the door. The guest room was nearer to the entrance so your rest was disrupted, and you knew you had to get the door, because Suna was a deep sleeper after a tiring day, which is almost every day. And you were too awake to go back to sleep and ignore it, so you begrudgingly got up in your pajamas still, as you were greeted by the sight of an angry relative of suna’s.

She asked to be let in but you said you can’t because it was Suna’s place and you didn’t have the right so you slammed the door on her face.

"Do I have to?" Suna laid on his bed shirtless while you loomed over him with your death note planner. You were bringing it to appear to look professional, despite the duck pattern on your pants. “We don’t have any appointments this morning, do we?”

"it's err.. your aunt, Suna-san, she’s outside,” translation: go send her away. You want her to leave quickly, you’ve always gotten weird vibes from her and it wasn’t just because she shamelessly asks Suna for money every time she tries to contact him.

"Suna-san? What happened to Rin?"

"That’s what you pick up from what I’ve said? Your aunt is just outside and it's already awkward as it is because I'm the first one she sees in your penthouse. She might get weird ideas."

Suna groans as he sits up, he stays like that for a few seconds before he reaches a hand out to grab you— making you drop your notebook— then he pulls you back down with him. Caging you in his arms, your notebook on the floor, as he starts to close his eyes, planning to fall asleep again.

"This is highly inappropriate and not the time," you try to reason while making no attempts to break out of his hold.

"Not a first time for us. Hm."

"I despise you." lies.

"Sure."

"Get up and go," you say, hitting him on the chest, well, at least attempting to.

"You’re so mean to me [name], I just want to hold you,” he says with that raspy voice of his.

"You are so..." you feel that he can sense that you were upset because he loosens his hold on you, letting you go. You pick up your notebook and make your way into his closet. Suna sits up and frowns, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. You come back out and toss him a shirt.

"Now, go face your aunt," you walk out of his room, going to the kitchen and deciding to make yourself a cup of coffee to calm yourself.

“[name] are you mad?” you hear Suna call from his room.

Are you mad? Honestly? You weren’t really, and that’s what’s bothering you. And then the incessant knocking from the front door starts again, this time, Suna rushed down in sync with the knocks because he hastily put on his shirt and was following after you. You gave him a look and signaled for him to open the door, instead, he walks to your side and tugs on the sleeve of your shirt as you stir your coffee.

You stayed silent, shoulders stiff, and he made no move to leave.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, tugging on your sleeve again.

You sigh, and nod, you can’t really stay mad at him when he’s acting all soft and stuff, how infuriating.

You spread your picnic blanket on the sand and made sure your umbrella was placed sturdily. Today you were at a private beach resort the company rented out for the band’s music video. You’ve had some extra time and carefully planned out your escape before anyone could ask you to do anything else. You could just not do it since it’s not like the company’s the one who’s paying your salary, but you find it difficult to say no, afraid of them thinking you were rude. Plus, lately you’ve been putting yourself out there and saying you’re free to help but now there’s too many people in need of help and only one of you.

You smile contentedly at the little space you’ve made for yourself, the ocean just the right distance away, not too far, not so close you’d get swept away by the water. You slump on the ground and pick up your book.

Finally, some peace, quiet, and relaxation.

“You were here.”

You glared at Suna who was looming over you, blocking the sun and shattering your peaceful escape. How did he even find you?! You didn’t even tell him where you were going, you just said you were going somewhere, this wasn’t an easy place to find either.. Can he not live without you for five minutes?

“Is there anything you need from me?” you ask, giving up the image you had of having total relaxation in your head. You really don’t want to see him right now, not that you’re mad at him, or that he’s done anything wrong— actually that one can be contemplated— but it’s you and your feelings that’s mostly the problem. After that evening you’ve been putting a little distance between the two of you, just a little, you were still doing your job well, but when it comes to outside a boss-employee relationship, you’ve been avoiding him like he was the embodiment of plague. And you know that he knows you’ve been distancing yourself.

Suna crouches, leveling so he could be with you face to face, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous, if I was avoiding you, I wouldn’t have shown up to work today?” you said with a ‘duh’ tone.

“You know what I meant, playing dumb doesn’t suit you, sweetheart,” there he goes with that endearment yet again— “Do you think I haven’t noticed how unusual you’ve been for the past few days? Leaving earlier than you usually do? Making excuses as to why my personal assistant just has to help out the crew?”

“I’ve done my job properly—”

“You have. But if you have a problem with me, then tell me so I don’t have to guess what’s suddenly making you walk on eggshells around me for days.” Suna’s forehead was scrunched up and he was sitting on the blanket now, clearly upset.

And that’s how your supposed to be peaceful, quiet, and relaxing afternoon reading at the beach turned into Suna’s head resting on your lap, your hand in his hair and him holding onto your hand as he verbally lists things you’ve done that upset him (“unsettled him” is his words but you know that’s just him downplaying that he was upset).

“[name],” the way he mentioned your name was a whisper, something only for you to hear, and your heart starts beating abnormally fast again.. this is why you were ignoring him. “Why can’t we?” he mumbles, he raises the hand he was holding to his face and pressed a light kiss on it, it tingles.

You gulp, “You know why,” you say quietly, choosing to stare out into the vast ocean.

Suna reaches a hand out to cup your face, making you look down at him. He stares at your eyes then drops to your lips, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

Your breath hitches and in your panic, you stand up suddenly, making his head fall from your lap. Without thinking, you start running towards the waters. You can hear Suna’s laughs distantly, you raise your middle finger at him, still in the middle of running away.

You fumble with the stupid banner as you try to hold it properly, your sunglasses start falling off of your face and you try to catch it while at the same time still trying to hold up your sign properly. The concert was about to start soon and there you were in the pit, your beanie and sunglasses on, the sign you stayed up making held in front of your chest, it was just a simple ‘You’re amazing Suna Rintarou!’ but you were still red faced and was trying to hide yourself as much as possible.

This was stupid. You could’ve just gotten free tickets from Suna himself but you had to buy a ticket with your own money. You wanted to support him by showing that you willingly wanted to do this, which is again, idiotic, cause you were hoping he wouldn’t spot you in the first place.

The concert was the opening one IKARUS will be having for their world tour, and Suna told you about how he was a little nervous about touring after two years, of course, he said it after a little pushing from your end, and he was also grumpy after admitting it. But you were too preoccupied with thinking of a way to show him support for the other stuff to matter. Merely an hour ago you were with him backstage and watching him prepare, giving him your last thumbs up of good luck before running to get your disguise and banner and making your way to the front of the pit. You spent a crazy amount of money on this, but you can’t help but feel that it’s worth it.

Soon you hear the deafening roar of the crowd as the beginning of a fan favorite song plays, a song you’re familiar with as you stayed up with Suna listening and watching him create it.

Akaashi’s voice is the one you hear first, greeting the crowd and making them go feral. It was a good thing you had ear plugs. Concerts really weren’t your thing in general, but then Suna’s voice rang through the stadium as he sang the opening line. You felt the goosebumps on your skin as his voice has always had an effect on you, you find yourself screaming along with the crowd, you really hope he doesn’t notice you.

It was Sakusa who spotted you first, you saw him raise a brow at you. It was in the middle of one of the times where they’re talking to fans and reading signs. You removed your sunglasses because you were starting to feel silly, but then immediately after that you locked eyes with Sakusa, you had a silent conversation with your eyes wide with threat and him glancing from Suna who was doing fan service and reading some of the signs to you who was holding a sign with suna’s name.

You can tell he wants to laugh but refrains from doing so.

“Suna Rintarou, marry me please?” Suna reads aloud, he chuckles, “If you give me a ring then maybe I’ll think about it,” the fans scream and it makes Suna laugh again. He looks like he was born to be on a stage like this, in front of millions of people, he has that kind of presence.

“I want you to be my baby daddy,” Atsumu squinted and pointed at the sign from a fan from a seat a little far away, “Which one of us?” he asks, the fan shouts distantly, ‘all of you!’

The next one you lock eyes with is Atsumu, he was going around the stage singing an awful song while fist bumping fans and when he got to you he was like ‘uhm [name]?’ Of course he didn't say it out loud but you could see it in his eyes so you hastily bump his fist as he moved to the other fans. Then it was Akaashi taking over the crowd and saying how much their fans mean to them. Meanwhile, you were trying your best not to respond to the burning gaze on the side of your head Atsumu was making.

The next song was starting and this one had a guitar solo from Suna. You can’t help but think that the way he works his guitar looks really.. It's really hot. The fans think so too since they won’t stop screaming.

It was at the final act where you see Atsumu talking to Suna and subtly pointing in your direction. You were going to kill him! You try to hide yourself behind your sign but you know it’s too late because you feel Suna’s familiar gaze on you already. Defeated, you lower your sign and let yourself lock eyes with him. He had a small smile on his face the whole time they played the last song.

As the concert reached its end, you were in the private parking lot because that was where your car was parked along with the band’s and the other staff's vehicles. You were rushing to put the sign in your car when someone called your phone.

You saw that it was Suna who was calling you so you promptly ignored it and fixed your bag. You jump when someone’s arms wrap around your waist and pull you into their chest, “Why aren’t you answering my calls, hm?”

“I- uhm- eh?” you were malfunctioning.

He turns you around to face him, arms still wrapped around your waist as he pushes you to lean on the car. One of his hands leaves your waist and trails his touch to the side of your face, “You watched me?” he hums and cups your cheek. His simple touch was making your knees weak. “Did you enjoy the concert?”

You nod, still not having the right words.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to watch?” Suna asks, leaning down to rest his forehead on yours.

“It was supposed to be a secret,” you mumble, avoiding looking into his eyes, managing to form a response despite the way he was so close to your face makes you so flustered.

“You could just tell me I’m amazing anytime you want to,” he teases, and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” playing dumb is your go-to reaction.

You were met with silence, you could feel Suna’s gaze stuck on you, but right now you were worried that people were going to be here soon to get their cars—

“I want to kiss you,” Suna says, those words made you look up at him, your mind going blank. “I know what you’re going to say; that we can’t do it again, I know, but, I really want to kiss you right now,” he says. Your face was heating up, he was so unfair.

But.. but maybe you can let him off this time, only once, just once, this would be the last, just a peck, you convince yourself. You stand on your tip toes and reach for his lips, barely brushing against it before pulling away. Suna takes his time processing what just happened.

“T-There–” you don’t even get to start a sentence before he captures your lips into his once again. This time with his hand on your nape and him deepening the kiss.

“Rin,” you say in a gasp, “People will be here soon and your manager would be looking for you, what if they see us like this,” you manage to get those words out before he leans in to chase your lips again but you put a hand over your face to block him.

“Let them watch,” Suna says, placing a kiss on the base of your throat, trailing it up your neck, he then gently removes the hand on your face, kissing your palm before giving you a light kiss on the tip of your nose then he takes his time kissing you on your lips. A relief you've dreaded to have washed over you, but right now, you were too lost in him to care.

note: im back!! and ready to write lmao ive been so busy

[hlficlibrary]

HL Fic Library 🌸 Short Fics

(Part Two ~ 5k-10k)

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

🌸 Just Your Jinx by @larryatendoftheday (T, 10k)

Harry Styles may or may not have accidentally jinxed his extremely fit new neighbor, and it's not so easy to make things right.

🌸 a garden in bloom by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry (G, 10k)

Louis used to live the quiet sweet life of a small business owner in the English countryside.

Then Harry Styles came along.

🌸 Make Him Want to Sin by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird (E, 9k)

The stranger’s sharp gaze landed on him immediately, the eye contact shattering through Harry’s defenses. For the first time in his life, Harry had an instantaneous reaction to someone. The man stared down at him with interest, like he wanted to take Harry apart and put him back together again, piece by piece. Harry wanted that more than anything, and he wanted it right now. It took every ounce of strength he had ever possessed to not drop down to his knees instinctively.

All from one glance.

Harry is a curatorial assistant at the London Museum of Natural History, on the day of the big annual gala he catches a glimpse of someone unexpected.

🌸 Give Me One Excuse by green_feelings / @greenfeelings (T, 9k)

Louis gets dumped by his fiancée and Harry is his replacement. It's not their decision to get engaged, but it's their decision to get married.

Or, an Arranged Marriage Royal AU.

🌸 You Deserve It All by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings (NR, 9k)

Just once Harry would like to face his ex and feel confident, but he's shit at confronting Nick and unfortunately his shopping skills aren't much better. Thankfully for him, the cute sales boy at the clothing shop knows a thing or two about fashion and making ex boyfriends green with envy.

🌸 Night Out by @helloamhere (E, 9k)

Symphony hall was the first place Louis had felt at home in this city, and he always had the box to himself. Until tonight.

🌸 a body wishes to be held & held by @turnyourankle (E, 9k)

Harry wants to return the favour after Louis helps him out with his heat.

🌸 Sweet to the Soul, Health to the Bones by wildhalos (T, 9k)

“When you walk in, every single thing stops. I see you, only.” Someone keeps declaring their love on the brick wall outside Louis’s office window. It's possible Louis should be concerned, but the romantic in him would like to believe a stalker would use something slightly more vicious than chalk and pretty words.

🌸 Second Time's the Charm by @cherrystreet (E, 8k)

Louis’ mother is convinced she met her son’s soulmate at the market. Louis is extremely hesitant to go on the blind date she’s set up, but she’s persistent, begging and pleading, pulling out all the stops. After all, mothers do know best.

(Or maybe they don’t.)

🌸 Now That It's Over by @lululawrence (NR, 8k)

“What are the odds we would both be at Mariano’s on a Thursday night?”

Louis’ shoulders tensed. What the hell was he doing here?

“Harry? Hi? The odds are pretty crazy, yeah.”

Harry smiled down at Louis the way he used to, but there was also a glint in his eye that Louis absolutely did not like. Harry was also dressed in his favorite black and white striped women’s jeans and a printed shirt only he would ever be able to pull off. It was quite rude of him to come and interrupt Louis, particularly while looking so good. Louis hadn’t seen him since he’d finished moving his shit out of what was once their shared flat, so this being the first time seeing him wasn’t exactly providence in Louis’ mind.

Or the one where Harry and Louis broke up two months ago, and Harry just might be sabotaging Louis' dates.

🌸 good enough (for you) by localopa / @voulezloux (G, 8k)

omega louis is next in line to rule the pack. in spite of the rule saying he needs an alpha to rule, he creates an impossible olympics to find a worthy mate. harry somehow wins the gold.

🌸 Mr. Tuesday by @jaerie (E, 8k)

Tuesday. Harry loved Mr. Tuesday.

It was true that most of his clients were regulars, but there was just something about Mr. Tuesday that would make him stand out amongst the others even if he hadn’t booked almost every single Tuesday with him for the past year. It was the first day of Harry’s work week and Mr. Tuesday always eased him into it in such a pleasant way.

🌸 Holding out for something more by SunTomato / @sun-tomato (NR, 8k)

"This isn't a social call, is it, Curly?" Harry's gaze drops to the floor. "No." Harry takes a deep breath, fists clenching at his side, before he looks up again. His eyes meet Louis’ with a mix of fear and determination. "I want to make a deal."

OR The one where demon Louis really doesn't want Harry to trade away his soul, even if he can't explain why.

🌸 I Don't Love You I Want in Your House by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup (T, 7k)

Harry comes into the bakery almost every day trying to woo Louis.

Zayn works out at the gym maybe a little more than necessary so that he can get the chance to watch Liam train.

Niall is the only one who ever checks the mail.

🌸 Your secret’s safe with me by lightswoodmagic / @lightwoodsmagic (M, 7k)

He knew almost everything about Haz, considered him his best friend. He knew his favourite movies and books, how he liked his coffee, knew how many pets he had and what he was most afraid of. Louis knew how to calm him down when he was panicking, and that he’d lost his virginity to his ex-boyfriend when he was 17. He knew that Haz had curly hair, green eyes, that he was tall and considered himself slightly awkward. He knew his Instagram account that only had aesthetic pictures or ridiculous jokes, but in the all the time that Louis had known him, he’d never learnt, or been allowed to know, Haz’s full name, what he sounded like, or what he looked like.

Louis didn't care.

Or, when Louis' favourite singer comes back and announces he's performing again, him and the rest of his group chat decide to go. When Haz, the man Louis' fallen in love with without meeting him, says that he can't, Louis tries his best to convince him with a drunken phone call, hearing his voice for the first time. It's not until he's at Royal Variety that he swears he can hear it again.

🌸 'Sup by MediaWhore / @mediawhorefics (G, 6k)

Gemma really wants her little brother to sign up for a dating app and get back in the game after a messy divorce. Harry thinks he’s way too old to swipe. They compromise to devastatingly embarrassing results.

Meanwhile, all Louis wants is to finish the play he’s been commissioned to write, but one of the regulars at his local coffee shop keeps distracting him.

ft. older larry, pushy gemma, harry being a disaster gay and silver fox louis.

🌸 Easier by @allwaswell16 (E, 6k)

The last person Louis wants to see is his ex-boyfriend who also happens to be his soulmate.

🌸 Bijou by @kingsofeverything (E, 6k)

Being in love with his best friend wouldn't be so awful if Harry didn't have to listen to him constantly complain about how the guys he dates don't measure up.

🌸 We're Getting Better With Time by @haztobegood (T, 5k)

Hello Harry, this may seem out of the blue, and even weirder if you don’t remember me. We hung out for a few weeks back in the summer of 82. A picture of you showed up on my facebook tonight, I think because we have a few mutual friends on here. I know we haven’t spoken in forty years, but I thought I’d just shoot you a message. I hope you’re doing well. L

Or, the one where Louis is single, Harry is recently divorced, and they reconnect on Facebook forty years after they first met.

🌸 old macdonald had a farm by vintagehistories / @adoredontour (NR, 5k)

Louis is a hedgehog, Harry is a fish, Niall is a parrot, Liam is a golden retriever, and Zayn is Zayn. It’s a crazy twenty-four hours.

🌸 Only Reason by @letsjustsee (NR, 5k)

“We are so lucky to have with us one of the leading experts on beekeeping in the modern age, Dr. Louis Draper.” No. No, no, no… “I know I speak for many of us when I say that this man’s books have guided our practice, or helped us get started,” Harry continued, and Louis watched as the crowd nodded their heads in agreement. Oh shit. No. What? No. But then Harry was gesturing towards him, saying “Dr. Draper?” into the microphone, the crowd was applauding, and Louis found himself walking up the stairs to the stage.

Or, Louis is most definitely smitten with Harry from the second he sees him, but he is also most definitely not the world's foremost expert on beekeeping. He decides to roll with it anyway.

🌸 Get Nesting & Soft Knots by ishiplouis / @pocketsunshineharry (G, 5k)

AU where Omega Louis who runs a nesting materials Youtube channel meets Alpha Harry who knits his own blankets