#so basically for some reason something seems to be pressing on a lock button

[happyvalkyrieofdoom]

I think my trusty MP4 player that I’ve been using on an almost daily basis for about a decade is preparing for a happy retirement

[dawn-moths]

Tomura x Reader

word count: 800+

(You try and convince Tomura to take a break from his games and come to bed at a reasonable time for once.)

disclaimer/content warning: no warnings apply! sfw, soft tomura, maybe quirkless au?? i don’t really know, i just love and miss him a lot and wanna take care of him.

***

It’s late— nearly two AM— and the glow of the moon trying to creep in through the gaps of the curtains competes with the glow emanating from the trio of computer screens currently in use in the other corner of the room.

“Tomu…” you murmur, half a groan and half a whine, as you turn over beneath the covers. “Come to bed…”

It’s so warm here, your body heat seeping through the sheets, the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing— one of his shirts, the soft black cotton displaying the fading decal of some game he used to like— clinging to your drowsy form like a veil of comfort and familiarity.

If you buried your nose in the collar, it still smelled faintly like him, despite you basically having claimed it for your own a few weeks back.

From across the room, Tomura sits before his three monitor display, the soft light from the screens shifting the colors cast across his face in a fast-paced rainbow, reds and blues and greens illuminating the pale waves of his hair.

It’s almost to his shoulders again. You’ll have to convince him to let you give it a trim soon.

“Tomuraaaaaa…” you whine a little louder, drawing his attention that time as he shifts his headset so only one ear is covered.

“Ok, just one more round,” he replies, something almost apologetic in his tone, no more irked grumbling or sarcastic attitude present like he used to respond to such a request in the past.

You basically had to drag him away from the computer, once upon a time. If you didn’t, he’d be playing right up until the sun was about to rise.

You rolled over onto your other side, facing away from the glow of the screens, letting your eyes fall closed once more, the constant mashing of buttons clicking softly to fill the otherwise silent room.

Whatever game he’s decided to log into tonight, the rounds are long. After ten minutes he’s still playing, one or two curses hissed out under his breath when his character takes a hit or someone else on his team messes up.

You turn again, squinting your eyes as they adjust to the light. Once the room becomes clear, you can see just how focused Tomura is. Like he’s locked in. Like he’s entranced. The way his fingers fly across every button and joystick of the controller like its second nature to him.

But it’s been nearly twenty minutes.

Enough is enough.

You sigh and rise from the warm comfort of the bed, padding over with bare feet to where he sits in his big gaming chair— a birthday present you’d surprised him with last year. He glances over at you for a split second, trying to conceal the slight guilt that pangs inside him.

“Make room…” you say, and he obliges, pushing back a bit from the desk so you can curl up against him, sharing your sated warmth with him in hopes of coaxing him to bed.

“Swear I’m almost done,” he says, shifting a bit to allow you to get comfortable, pressing your chest to his, legs straddling his waist, arms draped loosely around him as your head rests against his shoulder.

You can just barely hear the up-beat battle music muffled through his headset, the looping audio somehow making you even more tired despite the high-energy pulse of it.

Before long, you feel yourself dozing off again, that heavy, floating feeling of the moments right before you sink into sleep dripping through you like thick syrup, honey sweet.

Not two minutes after your body had gone slack and heavy against his own, the round ends and Tomura logs out of the game, one hand carefully pressed against your back to hold you in place as he leans slightly forward to place his controller on the desk. He puts his computer to sleep, the screens fading to black.

And now, it seems, it’s time for him to put you to sleep too.

You’re passed out, completely dead to the world, breathing slow and shallow, head beginning to loll as he carefully shifts to splay his big palms under your thighs, carefully lifting you as he stands, carrying you to the bed and placing you back among the rumpled sheets.

Once you’re all tucked in again, Tomura slips out of his jeans and puts on a fresh t-shirt— a habit you worked hard to instill in him, something about not sleeping in your day clothes or wearing your sleep clothes during the day— and then joins you under the covers, snuggling up next to you and gently cradling you in his arms.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before allowing his own eyes to fall shut, hoping to meet you somewhere in your dreams.

[neddea]

Polaroid Go tips and tricks - I really love this camera!

This is basically the post I wish I had read before and after I bought the Polaroid Go. I haven’t been able to find much info on tips and tricks, so I’m gonna share what I’ve learned, also with the intention of getting some feedback and hopefully more knowledge from the community 🙏🏻 Also, beware of the long post, I guess!

(NOTE: This is about the 2nd Gen Go, idk anything about the 1st Gen version).

The reasons I bought the Go instead of any other Instax or Polaroid camera:

☑️Analog camera instead of digital (I wasn’t sure about many other instant cameras). I wanted to restrict myself and not even have a screen to be able to tweak things or choose which picture I wanted to print. The goal for me was to learn photography in itself by using the “simplest” tools. If the picture turns out well, it’s because I’ve understood how to use the tools and how to get the most out of them (and sometimes I’m just lucky, let’s be honest!)

☑️Easy to carry around. I have ADHD, so I know that I will never do something if it feels like a bit too much work to get started on (for example, taking pictures outside if carrying it is a hassle). The Go was by far the best one in that sense.

☑️The film is cheaper than the other Polaroid films (at least that I’m aware of). This is huuuge for me, since I wanted to take as many pics as I could and not feel as bad if I “wasted” film with experiments and trials. Still not as affordable as Instax film though, but closer than other types.

☑️It has filters. I know, this might seem like a dumb reason, but I really wanted to get into this hobby because I wanted to relearn photography and go back to that feeling of physicality that used to inspire me back in college. I wanted to experiment with cellophane paper and with the chemistry of the film itself and whatever idea came to mind, and the filters added to that goal. Some instax cameras have unofficial filters, but they didn’t seem as… sturdy? Properly made? Idk, looks deceive and they could be great for all I know (if anyone has experience with them let me know, I’m curious!)

☑️Double exposure and flash On/Off options. Two other huge reasons why I chose this camera! For the same reasons as the one before: I wanted to experiment and be able to control the tool to take the pros and cons to the extreme.

☑️Accessories to carry it around and keep it safe (although I have things to say about some incompatibility issues).

That being said, things I don’t like as much:

🔻Can’t control exposure times and diaphragm aperture (sorry if the terms are incorrect, English is not my mother tongue and I learned the basics in Spanish). There are only two options and they’re automatic, so it’s a bit difficult to get it right. You can half press the shutter button to lock focus distance and light sensitivity though, but I haven’t mastered it quite yet.

🔻Polaroid film is not the most stable (I find it difficult to put this as a downside, I’m actually quite happy and even grateful that it works like this to the point that I count it as an extra tool and a huge part of the artistic process. Then again, sometimes you want things to work as you planned, so I’m guessing this can be a bad thing for many people).

🔻The film is still expensive, especially if you add shipping expenses. There aren’t nearly as many options as with other Polaroid cameras, the only available editions are the white frame and the black frame. I’d love to be able to use the peach frame, or a monochrome film, or the Bowie edition… but it seems like Polaroid doesn’t pamper the Go as much as its siblings

🔻Pictures tend to not be as sharp as the bigger films or it’s harder to get them right.

🔻Too much contrast between shadows and lights.

All in all, I’m really, really happy with it! I think it was the perfect choice for me, and I’m sad to see it isn’t as loved in the community (I’ve read though that the 1st gen wasn’t great, so that might be one of the reasons).

I also wanted to share my tips and tricks for different things!

🔳Double exposure: I'm still figuring things out, but so far my best takes have been in total darkness with very intense and direct light sources (a phone's flash directed to the camera, for example). For anyone who has never tried or doesn't know how this works: think of photography as painting with light on a black canvas. Total darkness means total lack of light, so you're not painting anything, right? This is especially useful for double exposure, which basically means taking two pictures in one. If you have absolute darkness with one small source of light and you take the first exposure, you still have plenty of "blank" canvas left, so the second exposure's lightened parts are gonna superimpose over the darkness of the first one. For example, in the first pic below the first take was for the two lines and circle (with the blue filter) and the second was for my friends' portraits (with a yellow filter). Play around with the shadows and lights, you can for example give some texture to the shadows of an otherwise well lit figure. For this reason I don't recommend using the flash, but hey, there's probably a good way to use both!

⚠️BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE TO IT. You wish you could take more than two exposures?? YOU ACTUALLY CAN. I just discovered this and I'm over the moon: double tap the flash button to turn on the double exposure mode, take the first one, turn the camera off; turn it on again, double tap for double exposure, AND THERE YOU GO, you are gonna take three exposures now. Do this ad infinitum if you want to (probably not the best idea for the film though). I'm so happy about this, you have no idea.

🔳Filters: I’m still getting used to them so I might be wrong, but generally speaking they reduce contrast. Pure blacks and whites will still be there if it's a well lit place, but you get more details on parts that would be otherwise slightly overexposed, and the middle tones don't get as dark. I also have a feeling that the flash works wonders on closer shots, tinting that plane more strongly with the filter, but as the flash reach fades into the background, the filter is not as visible (again, I'm basing this in just one picture that looks like that, I'll have to do more research). Another rule of thumb: yellow is the lightest color and blue is the darkest, so use them wisely. The blue filter is probably going to make the shot look a bit darker, and the yellow one might make it look too bright. I want to hear how anyone else feels about them, I might be completely on the wrong track with these!

🔳Incompatibilities between accessories: This one is annoying. I bought all together the hard case, the silicone skin, the travelling bag, the mini album, the wrist band, the bigger band and the filters. The main issue is the silicone skin, since if used the camera doesn't fit inside the hard case, AND you cannot add the filters to the camera because there's no window for it. I had to cut the frontal part of the skin so I could fit the filters, which is not ideal. I don't know how Polaroid has overlooked this particular thing, but yeah, be aware of that. The bands and the mini album have a ring with a clamp that allows you to attach them to each other or to other bags pretty easily.

🔳Using the countdown to get sharper pics. If your pulse is as unstable as mine and you're shooting a picture under dim lighting circumstances, I'd advise you to use the countdown tool to avoid any blurriness and shakiness. At least for me, when I click the shutter button I end up moving the camera slightly, which has slightly ruined some pics (this is not just Polaroid, it's just a general photography thing, but heavier cameras are not as sensitive to movement, I think. Physics, idk). So to avoid that, I just press the flash button for several seconds until a LED light lights up on the front of the camera. When you press the shutter, it counts down to 9, I think, and then takes the pic.

🔳Film temperature and development: Listen. Some people might complain about this, but I actually see it as another tool to take the shots that I want. I feel it's more impressionist-like than any other kind of photography, since it captures not just what the eye can see: it also kinda captures the impression and feeling of the moment. I've taken several pictures of my hometown, and it was around freezing temps outside, so when I took the first pic of course the shadows came off looking blueish and greenish, and they didn't get too dark at all. At first I was confused and a bit disappointed, but after two or three more shots I was ecstatic about it. It reminded me of the blueish greys Monet used in his paintings. I made some experimentation with the amount of time the pics developed in the cold and it's just so much fun. So yeah, id say use it in your favour! Remember to keep it close to the body in the cold to avoid it, and maybe some insulated pockets for the heat (Polaroid sells a bag for the camera with one such pocket, but I feel it doesn't work too well against the cold, would have to try in hotter temps). ALSO, sometimes it will take several days for the shadows to get as strong as they'll get! Especially if the pic developed in cold temps.

🔳Let entropy be part of it. Just experiment with the camera. Take lots of double exposure pics to try specific things without wasting as much film. Remember: sometimes the pics won't come out as perfect as you'd like, but often enough the reason might be something you might have done wrong; other times, it's just bad luck with the film or something else. Sometimes those imperfections add to the feeling of the picture. And sometimes you half-assedly take a shot and it turns out to be especially interesting. It can feel like every pic is a conversation between you and the camera (as cheesy as this might sound), and some things that you find compelling the camera might not be too thrilled about; sometimes you can convince it, and sometimes it shows you the beauty of something you didn't pay too much attention to. Take all of the pictures as learning opportunities, adapt to the tools you have. This camera can be really good for what it is, but it has its own personality (and so does the film), and sometimes it takes a while to warm up to new people, right? (Instead I feel like I just found my new best friend right off the bat LMAO)

🔳Finally, Polaroid's app isn't necessarily created for the Go, since it doesn't have any Bluetooth tools, but it does help with scanning. I'd recommend giving it a Go (pun intended), since it already crops and fixes the perspective of the image to show just the frame and photo. I normally have to edit it so that it looks a bit closer to the physical picture, but that's just me going the extra mile.

I think that's it! I'm still thinking about how to store or showcase the pictures in a nice way, do you guys have any ideas? How do you do it? I'm also saving all the used film cartridges (is that the right word?), I don't know what for but I want to do something with them! I've seen people displaying pictures in them though... Any ideas?

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk (I’m so sorry for this stupidly long post)

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 136: Long Drive

Sorry friends. The second half of my week last week was really difficult and I went away for the weekend to recharge. Without further ado, here's the next ficlet. Thanks for your patience <3

---------

Harry loved the States for a lot of reasons; it was way easier to disappear here than in England; even if people knew his name, they were way less likely to recognize his face; you could basically pick any climate that you wanted and find a place that suited you; and lots of other weird things.

But mostly he loved road trips.

He loved the entire concept behind getting in a car and just driving. The road unfurling endlessly in front of him, windows down, radio turned up and blaring whatever struck his fancy. With Max in the car beside him, wagging his tail and sticking his head out of the window, Harry felt practically weightless.

"Alright, buddy," he told the pittie when he pulled over to grab some breakfast at a little diner, "You hang out in the back, yeah?" he asked, scratching behind his ears and pressing a kiss to the broad bridge of his nose. "Go on," he said, nudging him toward the back that Harry had magically enlarged and turned into a comfortable living space.

Muggles had campers and rvs but with a little bit of magic, the beaten up Subaru served him just fine.

He got out and hit the lock button, listening to the satisfying little beep as he headed toward the diner, catching up his curls and tying them into a loose messy bun on top of his head.

The diner was cute, all red and white checkered decorations and a counter with spinny stools. Harry sat down at one and grabbed a menu, perusing and trying to decide what to order when he heard the crash of something being dropped to the ground and breaking.

His head snapped up and he blinked, wondering if it had been too long since he'd gone to sleep because he had to be hallucinating. "Malfoy?" he spluttered.

(Read more below the cut)

But before the other man could respond there was a shout from the kitchen in the back, "Damn it! You clumsy, stupid ass!" the man shouted and Harry felt himself recoiling from the anger in his voice. "You'll be paying for that!"

"Yes, sir!" Malfoy shouted back, bending over and hastily sweeping up the pieces.

"Well don't mess around with that now!" he shouted. "You've got a customer, you worthless piece of-" his voice trailed off as he slammed a door in the back but Harry could fill in the rest.

"Malfoy?" he repeated as the man in question stepped over to him. "How on earth did you find me?" he asked.

"You found me, Potter," he snapped. "Not the other way around. Now what can I get you?"

"You actually work here?" Harry asked in befuddlement.

Malfoy gritted his teeth, "Obviously. Otherwise I wouldn't be wearing this stupid apron and I wouldn't be getting screamed at by the arsehole that owns this place. What can I get you?" he repeated.

"Umm," he said, glancing down at the menu, "I will definitely have a cup of coffee. And then maybe the first special on your board with scrambled eggs, bacon, and rye toast," he said. "And also grape jelly, if you have it."

"Got it," Malfoy replied, scribbling on the ticket. "Coming right up."

He spun on his heel and strutted off before Harry could say anything more and Harry just stared after him, wondering if he was dreaming.

Malfoy was back a few minutes later with a mug and a coffee pot, filling Harry's cup and sliding it over to him.

"Thanks," Harry said, reaching for the sugar. "What are you-"

"Look," Malfoy hissed, leaning over and keeping his voice low, "Please do not blow this for me. I know that you have no reason to help me but I really need this job, Potter."

Harry blinked and by the time he'd unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth, Malfoy was gone again.

It wasn't long before the other man emerged once more, carrying Harry's plate of breakfast. "Here you go," he said as he set it down and slid a couple of grape jelly packets toward him. "Enjoy. Do you need a warm up on your coffee?"

"Uhh," Harry replied, glancing at his half full cup, "Sure."

Malfoy nodded and grabbed the pot to refill his cup.

"When do you get off work?" Harry found himself asking.

The other man's brow furrowed, "Why?"

He shrugged as he slathered jelly onto his toast, "Thought it might be nice to catch up."

"To catch up?" Malfoy repeated. "Is that code for-"

"Hear about your life," Harry supplied.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed, "Fine. I get off at 10:00. If you pretend that you are just a customer passing through I'll give you fifteen minutes."

"Done," Harry replied easily. "So what touristy shite is there to do in this town until 10:00 am?"

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

After he finished breakfast, Harry ended up just taking Max for a walk and then to the dog park to chase a ball around him. He'd worked hard to train him the first few months after he'd found him abandoned, tied up to a dumpster and all but starving. And Max had learned quickly, mastering basic commands in no time which was for the best, since people took one look at him and decided he was scary.

He wasn't, he was a sweet boy who loved people and who loved to play but it didn't seem to make any difference. Still, once he was trained, Harry had started taking him to the park and he wouldn't let other people bully them out.

Around 9:30, they headed back to the diner and Harry settled Max into the back, making sure his water bowl was full before he climbed back out of the car and leaned against the hood, waiting.

Malfoy emerged a few minuted after 10:00, looking a bit disheveled in his black t-shirt and skinny jeans, and immediately lit up a cigarette before looking around and spotting Harry. His eyebrows rose like he was surprised to see him before he squared his shoulders and made his way toward him.

"Hey," Harry said, straightening up as Malfoy approached him.

Malfoy blew a stream of smoke out of his mouth, "Hey?" he asked. "Is that really what you have to say to me?" He shook his head, "Just get it over with Potter," he said. "If you want to gloat just fucking gloat so I can move on and go get my groceries."

"I don't want to gloat," Harry protested.

"What do you want, then?" he asked scathingly.

And that was the question, wasn't it? What did Harry want? "Why are you working here?" he asked.

Malfoy rolled his eyes as he exhaled another puff of smoke, "It's amazing where you end up when you're a convicted death eater whose wand is monitored," he replied. "Then add to that the fact that it didn't seem to matter where I got myself set up in muggle London, someone found me and within hours I'd lose whatever job I'd been working. So here I am, just trying to get by and who should appear but the savior himself," he said with a little mock bow. "I should just put my two weeks in here now, at least-"

"I'm not going to tell anyone you're here," Harry said quickly.

"Right," he huffed sarcastically.

"I'm not," he argued, "Because if I told them where you are, they'd know where I've been."

"You're running away too?" Malfoy asked, cigarette dangling loosely from his fingers as he stared at Harry in surprise.

"Obviously," Harry replied. "Come on," he said after a moment. "Your feet must be killing you. I'm sure that arsehole doesn't give you breaks," he added as he opened the hatch.

"You want me to climb into the trunk of your car?"

He rolled his eyes, "I know you think I'm an idiot," he said, "But I'm less of one than you think. Just," he crawled in and stood up, "come on."

After a moment Malofy followed him through but before anything else could happen Max bounded over and all but climbed onto Malfoy's lap.

"Max-" he started to scold before Malfoy started talking over him.

"Oh, hello you sweet baby," he said, pulling Max further onto his lap so he could pet him better and scratch his neck. They looked ridiculous, Max was almost as big as Malfoy, but there he sat anyway, "hello. Aren't you a lovie?" he asked. "Yes you are. You're a giant lovie," he said.

And in that moment, Harry's mind was made up. "Have you ever gone on a road trip?" he asked.

Malfoy looked up at him and Max licked a stripe up his cheek. He laughed and stroked his side, "What?" he asked.

"Have you ever gone on a road trip?" Harry repeated.

"What is that?"

"Like a really long drive," he said. "Where you just get in your car and drive and stop for food when you want to and sleep when you want to." He scratched the back of his neck, "Max and I are headed to California to see the giant redwoods."

"That sounds nice for the two of you," Malfoy replied, steadily patting Max.

"Come with us," Harry said.

The other man blinked. "Sorry?"

"Just," he shrugged, "What else do you have here?"

"A job-"

"That you hate."

"A flat-"

"That is probably smaller than this," he said gesturing to the space they were sitting in.

"What happens when you get sick of me?"

He shook his head, "Come on. Just come with us. If I kick you out I'll give you $5000. That should be enough to help you settle wherever you want, right?"

"Why?"

He stared at him for a moment. There were a thousand reasons that flitted through Harry's mind, a thousand things that he could say, but none of them made any sense. Not yet at least. "Why not?" he settled on.

Malfoy took a slow inhale and then nodded once. "Fine, but you're going to need to make a second bed and we have to stop for my stuff."

"Done," Harry replied, grinning and feeling the familiar feeling of freedom that he felt when he was gliding down the open road unfurling in his chest.

Finally, he was going on an adventure worth having.

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

Day 135: Off-Guard | Day 137: Symmetry

[ramzawrites]

can I request one where on doomsday dream techno Phil and y/n team up. like this team is super op cuz they’re all good at pvp.

RAMZA I WANNA SAY I LOVE YOUR WRITING YOU ARE VERY POG. STAY HYDRATED EAT WELL AND SLEEO WELL!!!

Reader Joins Team Doomsday

GN

Pairings: none

Characters included: Technoblade, Philza, Dream, Quackity, Ponk, Tubbo, (mentioned Tommy)

Warnings: fighting, mention of death (non descriptive), falling (non descriptive), cursing

Series: a request by a nice anon 💙

Summary: Dream and Technoblade just teamed up in front of almost whole L’Manberg which was a catrastrophic outcome in of itself but when Dream exteneded his invite for teaming up also to Y/N? The L’Manberg people knew they were absolutely screwed.

Words count: 3930

Authors Note: Thank you for the request!! 💙 Also thank you for the nice words!!! I hope you are doing well! Please make sure to stay hydrated and that you rest as well! Thank you pog anon!!

„Listen, we will blow up L’Manberg this time tomorrow!” Dream yelled out. His voice echoing through the ruin that used to be the Community House. All while he was surrounded by a handful of people decked out in armor brandishing their weapons.

Techno stood close by him. A sick grin on his face while he held his infamous rocket launcher between his hands. No surprise there that he would immediately jump on the idea of blowing up this government, especially after they went out of their way trying to kill him while he was in retirement.

A few people let out shocked gasps or surprised exclamations as Dream announced this. Knowing that Dream was a hundred percent serious with this, as well as Techno. Those two were a dangerous combination. A deadly even.

So when Dream moved his head upwards to look at Y/N who seemed to stoically stare at the happenings and calmly asked “Won’t you join us, Y/N?” Everyone’s worry spiked even more.

Y/N scoffed and slammed the end of the trident they were holding onto the small bit of solid ground they were standing on “You already know my answer, Dream.”

While Techno seemed to be a bit confused for a few seconds he appeared to make the connection. Those two have talked about this beforehand.

The others didn’t seem to understand though.

“Y/N? You are joining them?” Tubbo sounded downright hurt.

In that moment Quackity chimed in as well “You are betraying us?”

The grip on Y/N’s trident strengthened “You bet I will! You guys never treated me like one of yours! All I was good for was to get you better gear or play body guard! Hell, at some point you guys basically imprisoned me only to let me out to train you on how to fight Techno! One of my dear friends! How does this surprise you?”

People were already panicked and scared but this was the disaster scenario. There were only three people on this server known for being amazing fighters and all three of them just banded together to destroy their home and possibly kill them all.

Before anyone could retort Dream clapped loudly in his hands to pull everyone’s attention back on himself “We gave you the warning, that’s all. See you all tomorrow.”

With that Dream used an Ederpearl to flee. Y/N followed him suit, having all of this planned out beforehand. Though this also meant they awkwardly left Techno behind but he should be fine. After all he was the Technoblade and as everybody knew Technoblade never dies.

Once the two were far enough away Dream turned to Y/N “Thanks. I appreciate what you are doing. Wouldn’t want to fight against you.”

Y/N laughed “Neither do I. They already looked so scared with your team up with Techno but after you pulled me in they really looked like sheets of paper. It was… interesting to see. Either way I should be the one thanking you. You are giving me a chance for revenge.”

They continued to move towards a snowy tundra. Dream taking the lead since Y/N has been stuck in L’Manberg in the last few months. They wore netherite armor but it was unenchanted. Given to them by the butcher army after they told them of their plan to kill Dream.

The original plan was that Y/N would join them later and make sure that they will be alright. Playing a bodyguard for them once again. Normally they would have used the given armor and weapons as soon as they got it to flee but Dream has met them before this even happened. Hatching out a plan together so in the end this gear was an added bonus that gave extra protection while they fled with Dream.

“Why are we here?”

“Well we gotta prepare.” Dream answered as if that would answer Y/N’s question sufficiently.

While Y/N didn’t exactly truly trust Dream, mostly due to the fact they trusted no one, they didn’t feel the need to ask him to elaborate and instead continued to follow him dutiful. He had something planned and they had to follow him no matter what.

Where else could they go? Their only home was in L’Manberg even if it was more of a prison.

Dream was an enigma to them. Y/N had fought with the man a few times and it was always incredibly tiring every time which was something new for them.

Both Dream and Techno were physical strong, though Y/N suspected that Techno was a bit stronger simply because of his Piglin side.

Techno was a master at preparing and using everything to his disposal and if he didn’t have it he wasn’t scared to spend a ludicrous amount of time to gather these items. He was like a true juggernaut. People called him the Blood God for a reason after all.

Dream was more versatile. Of course he did plan things beforehand but he was better at acting during the situation. If the situation changed you can bet that he was already three moves ahead and noticed things around him he can use for his advantage. Now combine this with the knowledge he had about the world and he seemed almost unstoppable.

Just like Dream and Techno they too were physical strong which came naturally over the years but they relied more on their speed. Being a master at dodging blows and abusing peoples weak spots before they even realize they had any.

Now that they teamed up Y/N could understand how the people begun to fret. Alone the three were a force to be reckoned with but together it wasn’t hard to imagine that they could level a whole city or a nation in this specific case.

“Here, we arrived.” Dream almost whispered. His porcelain mask hiding his satisfied smile as he spotted Techno talking with Philza inside what looked like a nether wart farm. Probably telling him about what just happened and how Tommy betrayed him.

Philza waved towards the two new arrivals “Hello Dream and Y/N.”

Surprised Techno turned around.

“What? We have to plan this somehow even a little bit. This is a bit bigger than just winging it.” Dream explained.

Techno stepped out of the farm and dug his finger into Dream’s shoulder “I have a bone to pick with you two.” He made sure to throw his frown towards Y/N as well as he said that “You just left me! You left me alone surrounded by like thirty people!”

Dream slowly pushed Techno’s hand away from him “And yet here you stand alive and well.”

“No thanks to you!”

“Boy, am I glad to finally meet my old friend Technoblade after being imprisoned inside my own home.” Y/N interjected, already having heard enough of their bickering.

Philza sharply sucked in some air “Yeah, I know what that feels like.”

Techno sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose “Don’t get me even started on you. They started a government right in front of us, you helped me build the Wither’s that destroyed them and yet you still stayed.”

“Oh, Techno you know very well what happened! They managed to catch me when I made sure to keep them off your back as you fled! Besides it gave me time to find out more about their structure and what was happening! I couldn’t know we wouldn’t need it in the end since Dream himself appeared to join our cause in this instance!”

Dream was calm and collected before but now he seemed almost apalled that Y/N would throw such an accusation against him “What?! Now it’s my fault?!”

Phil made his way towards the arguing warriors and made sure to stand in between them, they wouldn’t fight, not yet at least, the fight wasn’t heated enough for that but he needed to get their attention off each other “Okay, I think that is enough. You only have so much time to plan Doomsday.”

“You are right Phil, of course. Well then I have to show both Dream and Y/N something.” Techno seemed to have calmed down and made his way towards his home. Dream followed him and Y/N was about to follow him as well but Philza stopped them by laying his hand on their shoulder.

“Are you okay? You basically have been locked up by the L’Manbergians longer than me”

Y/N smiled softly “Besides missing my old gear? I am alright. Really. But thanks for asking.”

This seemed to be answer enough since he let his hand fall back to his side and instead concentrated on Techno who came running out of his house again with a button in his hand. Dream closely following and confused. Y/N assumed he was confused by his body language but it was hard to tell with his mask.

“Please follow me.”

So the group did as he ran around the corner towards a mountain range. All the while complaining to Chat, the voices in his head, that they had wants for completely unrelated things.

He placed the button down and pressed it. With the loud sounds of pistons moving a flat stone wall begun retracting giving away to a room with wither skulls on the back of the room. Soul Sand structures decorating the room as well as  a few chests and what looked like the start of a netherite armor set.

“What!?” Dream exclaimed in his typical fashion running into the hidden place to get a better look at the Wither skulls.

While Y/N was certainly impressed by this something felt off about this. Technically those were a ton of Wither skulls since they are incredibly hard to get by but it didn’t feel enough for Techno but Y/N chose to hold their thoughts to themself.

“As you can see we have enough for a few Withers and combined with, you mentioned raining down TnT?”

“Yeah, Yeah I did. A machine that will literally rain down TnT on the nation.”

“Yeah, combined with that and our fighting power we shouldn’t have a problem destroying L’Manberg.”

Y/N stretched “Okay, we got the gist of the plan I guess but I want a proper one. How will this go down exactly?”

The next day Y/N woke up early. More out of habit than need. They put on their freshly enchanted netherite armor and grabbed their new weapons as well. A netherite sword, crossbow and trident. Techno was already up, probably way before them. He was meticulous when it comes to preparing for fights after all.

As Y/N climbed down the ladder to get to the main level of Techno’s house they found him looking through a chest.

“Morning Techno and thanks for the makeshift bed and letting me sleep over.”

“Seeing as you are currently homeless I didn’t really have a choice and besides it makes it easier to meet up. Even though mister green Teletubby thought otherwise.” He grumbled “By the way there are some baked potatoes inside the furnace. Feel free to grab some.”

Y/N nodded and moved towards the furnace grabbing their breakfast. Potatoes, how typical.

The next few hours was spent by Techno, Philza and Y/N brewing potions as well as warming up. They got into their armor and made sure all of their equipment was working.

Now imagine their surprise while all of them were deep in their preparations and Dream appeared a good hour or so too early.

“Dream? Already here?” Y/N asked him.

He laughed “What? Already sick of me? I’m joking but there is a small change in plans. Let’s get going. Now.”

In the last part the tone in his voice changed from happy to serious which gave Y/N a bit of whiplash with how fast he could apparently change his emotions.

Technoblade pivoted his head to the side “Why already? Did something happen?”

Thankfully Dream shook his head “No, but let’s catch them off guard. If we go now they will surely be surprised.”

“Huh. He has a point.” Philza noted.

So the small group, they begun calling themselves Team Doomsday, started making their way towards L’Manberg but not without first getting Techno’s Hound Army. It was a bit stressful to get through the Nether with them but in the end they managed to reach the Community Nether Portal which led them close to the nation.

“I’m getting ready for the TnT, you all three get into the city and begin doing your thing. Techno as soon as you give me the signal I will spawn Withers and start the machine.” Dream ranted off resulting in Y/N rolling their eyes.

“Dream we were there when we planned this all.”

“Right.” And with that he vanished.

Technoblade turned to Philza “And you stay out of danger. Just spawn some Withers and by Ender stay out of danger. Call for us if anyone gets too close to you.”

This was Philza���s time to roll his eyes “Mate, I know. I’ll be fine!”

He most likely would. Philza was some apparently immortal being after all that still somehow only had one life. It was confusing but Y/N didn’t want to ask since Philza himself seemed to be very secretive about his nature.

With that Philza made sure to stay far away from Techno and Y/N. Still watching them but from a safe distance, holding onto the bag with the extra Wither skulls from Techno.

Together Y/N and Techno ran into the city with the wolves. As soon as Techno spotted Tubbo he immediately ordered his hounds to attack but didn’t attack himself immediately. He needed Tubbo to call the others so this thing could really start. After all, all of them had to get what’s due for them.

And indeed it didn’t take long for Quackity and the others to appear.

“Shit, it’s both Y/N and Techno!”

“Where is Dream!”

“No, idea!”

“We are so fucked!”

The people were scrambling, trying to protect their home but every time they got too close to Techno or Y/N the hounds would throw themselves at them. It was almost ironic how when Sapnap appeared the fight really begun.

“Techno I’ll deal with the people! I think it’s time for our secret weapon!” Y/N yelled over the chaos as they kicked Quackity away.

Between the L’Manbergian party Sapnap and Punz were definitely the biggest problem but as it looked like Punz barely participated. Sapnap was a definite surprise so Y/N wanted to deal with him if they get the chance. Test their mettle against him and maybe find out what moved him to work against Dream so readily.

“Got you!” Techno answered, showing that he heard them.

He got out his rocket launcher and shot a few rounds into the air, giving Dream and Phil both the sign. When Techno himself also got out some soul sand the others understood what was happening and tried their best to reach the Pig Hybrid.

Unfortunately for them the hound army and Y/N stopped them dead in their track.

Y/N had no problem running from person to person to either deflect their attack or kick them away from Techno as he built his little contraption. Two Withers already begun flying towards the middle of the nation. This broke up the group and a few decided to dedicate their fighting prowess to ensure that the Withers wouldn’t cause too much damage.

To that suddenly red TnT blocks suddenly begun raining down from the sky. A manic laughing Dream standing on top of an obsidian structure.

While the people scrambled to not die to the Withers, the dogs or the explosions, Team Doomsday, minus Phil, saw their chance to properly get into the fights.

Y/N didn’t spend any time waiting and immediately jumped in front of Sapnap’s way brandishing their sword. A smirk on their face.

Sapnap looked determined but worry still managed to crack through his expression. He locked his eyes with theirs and moved in heaving his sword up in order to strike them.

But Y/N stayed calm. They took a step forward and practically flowed around him, dodging his attack as they slammed down the sword at his side. It made contact with his armor but as it slid down the metal it managed to hit an exposed part of his arm.

Hissing Sapnap tried hitting them with a sweeping move towards their direction. Y/N used their sword to redirect his weapons movement away from them.

“Your reaction time is good! Too bad I’m better.” Y/N mused as they went back in to attack him.

They attacked him again, giving him a false sense as he tried to block their incoming attack only for them to move around again and kick him in the back of his knee. His leg buckled and crashed down into the dirt. Without any mercy Y/N kicked him again in his leg using the extra strength they had due to the strength potions.

“Fuck!” Sapnap cried out and put his hand inside a brown bag on his side, getting out an Enderpearl and throwing it away. He soon followed and disappeared as well.

“Oh no! You get back here! I haven’t even had the chance to ask you what the hell you think you are doing!”

But Sapnap didn’t hear them. He was too busy dodging attacks from a Wither.

“Y/N!” It was Phil calling out to them. As Y/N looked to where his voice came from they noticed both Ponk and Quackity coming closer to him. They knew he probably could deal with them but still. He was on his last life after all. Extra caution was warranted.

Y/N angled their own Enderpearl towards the blonde brit. Originally planned to be used to follow Sapnap but Phil was more important right now.

The wind got knocked out of their lungs as they landed in front of Phil. The sound of metal hitting each other rung out. A sword hitting Y/N’s armored back.

For a second Phil looked surprised only to jump back to his serious expression as he managed to see Y/N’s smile. He immediately got out a splash potion and threw it at himself and Y/N. They immediately noticed their strength returning. A healing potion. He got another one which seemed to be a strength potion, prolonging the effect that was already on them.

Thankful for the small pit stop Y/N turned around while he was busy throwing the strength potions, looking Quackity right in his face.

Quackity looked pretty confident before but now he was white as snow. Ponk put his second hand on the hilt of the sword. His sword was the one that clattered down on Y/N only to get parried by their armor.

“You betrayed us! Y/N! Do you really wanna do this?” Quackity tried to appeal to them.

Y/N sneered “How does this surprise you still? How? How does this not get in your head? You imprisoned me and made me work against my will against one of my only friends? How does this not enter your thick skull?”

They moved their arm up and brought it down on Quackity. It didn’t surprise them that he managed to parry it with his own but Y/N doubled down pressing down on the blade with their own. Effectively locking him into this position.

Obviously Ponk saw his chance and tried attacking Y/N who was preoccupied with the Vice President but Philza was still there. He just had to extend his trident and managed to interlock Ponk’s blade between the forks of his weapons.

“Phil!” Weirdly enough he seemed to be surprised by that.

“You were about to attack me! Don’t sound so shocked!”

Y/N pushed even harder on Quackity, forcing him to take a step back, getting dangerously close to the edge of the crater that the TNT is still in the progress of making.

“You are just as bad as Techno. Just as bad as Dream.” He spat. Still trying to work against Y/N’s strength.

“From what I saw in my time in this L’Manberg I very much prefer that. At least they treat me like a human person and not just as a weapon to be used!”

With that Y/N musted up the rest of their strength and pushed even harder down. Forcing out a yell as they pushed him one last time. Quackity not having enough strength to hold out anymore had to take another step only to find that there was no ground anymore. He slipped and fell down into the crater.

Not wasting any time Y/N spun towards Ponk who was clashing his sword against Philza’s shield. He was a good enough fighter but it still looked pathetic. He was too desperate.

Y/N used the adrenaline of arguing with Quackity to run and throw their whole body into Ponk. Making him stumble and fall down onto the ground.

Pointing their sword at his throat “I’m sorry Ponk. I respect you for standing up to your ideals but here is the end of the road today for you. Maybe next time you will have a better chance.”

His eyes widened and a weak protest left his mouth but Y/N ignored it. Pushing their sword down, killing him. His body dissolving into golden dust. He was returning to his bed and respawning.

Phil looked at his worn out shield “You okay, Y/N?”

They laughed dryly “I should ask you that. I am fine. I am holding my own out here, how are you?”

“I’m luckily good as well. Thanks for helping me, Y/N.”

It was sad to think about how they never got a proper thanks from the L’Manberg people. It was expected that they helped them.

Y/N nodded “Always.”

They wanted to jump back into the fight but suddenly Dream stood next to them. Looking over the crater.

The opposing party was scattered. Now more dealing with injuries than the fights. Only one Wither left flying around. The crater reached bedrock and yet the explosions still rang.

“I think it’s time we go. This nation is done for.” He spoke.

Techno joined the party. He looked like he was doing alright. His armor obviously scratched up but he was doing alright.

“I say we seemed to be successful.” He noted.

Dream put his hand on Y/N’s shoulder “I saw you fight. Did you know that a few people did a wide berth around you? Avoiding you at all cost?”

Y/N raised one of their eyebrows as they stared at Dream’s masked face. His head directed straight ahead as he observed Tommy who helped Tubbo with one of his injuries he acquired when he protected him from one of Techno’s rockets.

A few seconds passed in silence but then he turned his head towards Y/N “They are scared of you. Proof of your strength. Do with that knowledge what you will but I thought I should tell you since it was interesting to watch from above.”

“Let’s get going. If we wait long enough for them to recuperate then we might still have a problem since we are getting low on potions as well.” Techno spoke in a calm voice.

Truly. For Tommy, Tubbo, for all of the people who tried to protect L’Manberg. The team up of Dream, Techno, Philza and Y/N was their biggest nightmare that just came to fruition.

They knew they didn’t have a chance and yet they had to try. Had to try to protect their home like they always did but it was a vain effort. Who would have enough power to fight against warrior gods?

[marveicinematics]

shaken (loki x reader, smut)

Summary : Your date didn’t show up, but a stranger did and you willing to be his for the night.

Pairing : Loki Laufeyson x female reader.

Words : 1,597.

TW : Smut. Unprotected sex, dirty talk, (small) praise kink.

Note : Sometimes, I just miss Loki.  (•◡•)

I’m open for request, just check the requests page. ♡

“I’ll take a Vodka Martini. Shaken, not stirred.“ Sitting at the counter of the bar you decided to spend the night in, you giggled at the demand of the man that was now standing next to you and sat where you date was supposed to be. “Like James Bond.“ You said, as you saw his inquiring gaze. It didn’t seem to answer his questions, as he frowned, eyes still looking at you. “I beg you pardon?“ He asked, tilting his head to the side.

“James Bond. The secret agent.“ There was no way he didn’t know who you were talking about, especially considering his condescending tone and accent that directly made you believed he was, just like the fictional character, coming directly from England. “I’m afraid I don’t know who you’re talking about.“ You giggled again, shaking your head, which seemed to both confuse and amuse him. Focusing your attention to your drink, you tried to avoid thinking about the stranger sitting next to you, yet everything in you was attracted to him. He was good looking, for sure. But he had this little something, a part of mystery you wanted to discover while chatting over a drink, spending the night getting to know him only to end up under his sheets screaming his name until next morning. You shook your head to clean your mind from this fantasy, taking another sip from your cocktail. “Are you here alone?“ You heard the familiar voice say, and after wondering if you should look at him or not, you turned around to see he was indeed talking to you, again. “Yes, I am. My date bailed out on me.“ “What a shame.“ He grabbed his drink as soon as it arrived, taking a sip from it. “No one should ever stand up a woman like you.“ Your face flushed, realizing the man was possibly flirting with you — or just being nice. Yes, he was probably just being nice. “Well, if you’re here alone too, maybe you can be my new date.“ Expecting him to talk about the person he was probably waiting for, you were surprised to hear his answer. “I would absolutely love to.“ “Then we should try to get to know each other and make it fun. Like, playing truth or dare.“ Once again, he looked confused, and he took a few seconds before letting you know. “I do not know this game.“ “For real? You never played it?“ You asked, surprised. The man shook his head, and you proceeded into telling him the basic rules of the game. Taking another sip from your drink, you let him reflect on all the informations he just got. “All right. So, will you tell me the truth or accept to let me dare you?“ He asked, and you chuckled at the way each of his sentences seemed so well made. “I’ll start with truth.“ “Why would you want to go on a date with someone stupid enough to stand you up?“ Another giggle, and you shook your head as your cheeks turned read. “Actually, I don’t know him. It’s just some guy from a dating app.“ “Dating app.“ He repeated, perplexed. “Yes. We were supposed to meet for the first time tonight, but he didn’t come. It happens all the time, it’s fine.“ You looked at him again, and the way his eyes seemed to be taking in anything you said, as if he was learning, in a way. The more time you spent by his side, the more you needed to know more about him. “Truth or dare?“ You finally asked, hoping he would still be up to play. “Truth.“ For a while, you thought about asking about him. His name, his age, his job, where he was coming from — but you were positive he was British. Yet, your body kept being attracted to him like a magnet, and you just needed to make sure this wasn’t only going one way. “Do you think I’m attractive?“ You asked, leaning a little closer to him. The cocktails were making you bolder than you usually were. “Anyone would be an idiot to not see that you are a gorgeous woman.“ He didn’t even hesitate, or stutter, or blushed. He even leaned closer to you, both your body slowly making their way to one another. “Truth or..—“ “Truth.“ You cut him off with a smile, earning a soft chuckle from the man. “Is it true you’re already fantasizing about me?“ You straightened up, face blushing again as you frowned. He seemed to be so serious that the question unsettled you. “How would you know?“ “Well, I see things.“ He started to explain, not wanting to worry you. “I see the way your cheeks are a little more bright red each time we talk, and the way your hands are fidgeting. I see how you looked away after the first time we talked, but can’t seem to look away, now. Not to mention the fact that your entire body seems to be leaning closer after each question, for the same reason.“ His smile was something between a cocky smirk and a genuinely kind grin. Keeping quiet, you tried to find something to shoot back. He was right, and from the way he was looking at you, he knew it. Shaking your head, you decided that answering the question would be the only way to get done with the awkwardness of the moment. “Yes, I guess I did fantasize about you for a minute. I am alone and you are gorgeous.“ But you didn’t let him answer to you. “Truth or dare?“ “Dare.“ You had to think for a minute, his eyes hadn’t looked away from your face for the whole time. Something in you was screaming at you to stop this little game right now, but each time you looked into his eyes, you just needed to take it a bit further. “I dare you to make my fantasies come true, then.“ It was only after boldly speaking out that your cheeks turned this familiar bright color, which made his grin widen. Without a word, he stood up from the seat, catching your hand so you imitated him. You followed him all the way to the back of the bar and inside the women’s bathroom, that he locked behind you. “I am going to need you to tell me a little more about what this sweet mind of yours is fantasizing about.“ He grabbed your hips, pushing you against the wall as he pressed his body against you. Truth was, you weren’t expecting him to be this strong, and it turned you on more than you were before. “I just want you to fuck me all night long.“ You said, incapable of controlling yourself around him for reasons that you couldn’t understand. His fingers undid the button in the front of your dress only to allow your chest to be visible, and as he was kissing down your neck and collarbone, you arched against him, sighs filled with lust and pleasure. “You’re such a dirty woman, about to get fucked in the bathroom by a stranger. Does it arouse you, love?“ And as if he was trying to get an answered, he slid two fingers inside your panties, teasing your slit. “All wet and ready for me, I knew it.“ You moaned, biting down at your lips, as you tried to get your underwear off to give him a better access. The stranger undid his pants, pushing it under his ass only to let his hard cock out. “Fuck.“ You let out, seeing how big he was. Your fingers slowly grazed the length, getting him to groan softly. “Sir, I think you’re just as aroused as I am.“ He looked serious but still let out a chuckle at your comment, grabbing your thighs to push you up against the wall, giving him access to your pussy. He asked permission with a gaze, and you nodded to give it to him. “Oh god—“ You moaned when he entered you, not letting you time to adjust before he was trusting inside you. “You’re so big.“ It seemed to please him, making him push harder inside you as you wrapped his body with your legs to keep him close, hands buried in his hair. “You’re fucking me so good, keep going!“ Again, he seemed to enjoy your words, moaning as his move began to be more frenetic, which caused you to moan louder. His hips met yours faster and harder, his pelvis stimulating your clit as your breasts kept grazing against the fabric of his shirt. “Tell me you like it.“ He groaned, hitting your g-spot almost every time he was thrusting back in. “I fucking love it. Ah, you’re gonna make me cum already!“ The familiar feeling in between your legs made you tighten your grip, keeping his body close as you neared your orgasm. One of his hand grabbed your breast as his lips finally connected with yours, and he gave you a hot and passionate kiss, massaging your breast over the lace of your bra to get you off. It was enough for you to climax, crying out in pleasure against his mouth as you started shaking against him. Walls clenching around his cock, it tipped him over the edge. Giving you one last thrust, he emptied himself deep inside you, hot seed filling you up as you rode out your orgasm.

“Fuck,“ he cursed for the first time, cock still pulsating inside you. “You were amazing, love.“ It took you a minute to catch your breath, putting your underwear back on as the man was buttoning his pants again, as if he hadn’t just fucked you against the wall. “Do you want to come get another drink in my hotel room?“ He asked, turning around to face you as you were adjusting your dress and your hair. “By the way, my name is Loki. It is very nice to meet you.“

[letsloveimagines]

Title: Crush II

Pairing: Corpse Husband x fem!youtuber!reader

Collab with: @the-winter-sxldier-posts

Requested by: Anonymous

Request:  You HAVE to write a part 2 of crush where they meet! It would be so cuteeee!

Word Count: 1667

Warnings: a little swearing but mostly fluff

Note: The images doesn’t belong to me, all the credits go to the respective creators. I only made the collage. Also, I will not make anything to make Corpse uncomfortable, if he ends saying he doesn’t like fanfiction about him, I will delete this.

Part I: Here

                                                           ♦⋅☆⋅♦ Y/N pressed her left foot on the clutch pedal, turned the car key and heard the engine roaring loudly afterwards. She added the address on the GPS, looked at herself in the mirror for a moment taking a deep breath, trying to stay calm and focused. She put the car in first gear, and started driving from her apartment complex's private parking lot to the main road.

As her small and comfortable car drove through the streets of Los Angeles, the girl kept listening to what was on the radio. Every now and then, her stomach would churned with nervousness but she would take a deep breath and smile uncertainly to herself, trying to convince herself that everything would be okay.

Fed up with the podcast she was listening to, turned her car's Bluetooth on when she had to stop at a red traffic light, she switched to her current favorite Playlist.

Distracted by the music and humming softly accompanied by Rihanna's voice, she put the first gear back on, moving the car forward when the traffic light turned green, quickly shifting to the second and then putting on the third.

Her mind was racing, however.

Life had gone well since that specific day... since Y/N and Corpse confessed their feelings to each other. Their mutual friends that they played with knew the truth and were extremely happy for them, which was wonderful and soothing. Outside of them, no one else knew what had happened.

Corpse and Y/N talked every day, stayed on the phone every night until one of them fell asleep unfortunately, the girl always fell asleep first, and saw each other through FaceTime whenever they could.

In other words, the two could say that they were basically dating already... Even though there was never a real question. But perhaps that was about to change, for the day had finally come when they would meet physically.

A sound of receiving a phone call invaded the car and interrupted her thoughts. With a smile on her lips already knowing who was, Y/N clicked on the answer button and waited while entering a roundabout.

"Hey." That characteristic deep voice was heard.

"Hey you." She replied while looking briefly at his name written on the car screen.

"Are you on your way yet?"

"Yes, I just left the house. I'll be there In about two hours, depending on the traffic today."

Corpse cleared his throat and Y/N almost visualized him playing with his rings, and messing with his dark curly hair. "Are you sure you haven't forgotten anything?"

"Well, I hope not. I’ve had my bags packed for two days, but I think I have everything that is necessary with me. If not, there is no problem really." She replied.

"This is going to... This is really going to happen isn't it?" She could hear the smile in the man's voice.

"Yes, Corpse, it is. We will finally meet in person."

"I can't wait to see you." He whispered.

Y/N felt her cheeks warm for a moment, and she knew that if she looked in the mirror she would see a dark pink tone on her skin. She bit her lower lip in an attempt to stop the huge smile. "I can't wait to give you a big hug and tell you everything face to face."

Corpse laughed deeply, his tone was warm and full of emotion. "I know... I am anxious, and I am not going to lie about it. I'm super nervous. My hands are shaking so much that I don't even know how I haven't dropped my phone yet."

"Oh, Corpse..." Y/N whispered with a heavy heart, but was attentive to the road at the intersection where she was. "There is no reason to be nervous, it's just me. It’s just us."

"I know..." He sighed softly. After a few minutes without speaking, enjoying the comfortable silence between the two and listening to the sound of the Y/N’s car motor, he continued. "Well..." Corpse cleared his throat. "I will let you concentrate on your driving. Be careful and pay attention to the road."

"I will, I’ll see you later."

"Bye."

"Bye, Corpse."

The call ended but the anxiety and nervousness did not. However, only the sound of his voice and the small conversation they had was able to make Y/N smile all the way to San Diego.

                                                          ♦⋅☆⋅♦ 

Y/N pressed the turn signal, the green arrow flashing to the right, and parked the car in an empty parking space in front of the building. The woman's neutral and almost robotic voice came from the GPS saying: You have reached your destination. Shaking in her place, the girl put on the brake and turned off the car, taking a deep breath trying to calm herself once more.

It was now or never... Should she send him a message to let him know she was already there? Should she just knock on the door? Her hands were shaking so much, and her heart was beating so hard and so fast that it almost hurt.

She sat in the driver's seat for a few more minutes, so nervous she might pass out. It is better to just go there, she thought, the longer it takes the more nervous I will become.

She took a deep breath, unbuckled her seat belt, removed the keys from the ignition and quickly got out of the car, closing the door behind her, and going to the trunk to remove the pink suitcase. When it was on the floor next to her, she closed the trunk and locked the car safely, looking at the intimidating building in front of her.

Without further ado she approached it, opened the entrance door, climbed the stairs with some difficulty to his floor, and trembling, she shyly knocked on the door with her knuckles.

That door was opened so fast that it even scared her.

They were both looking at each other almost stunned... Finally they were there, in person, just a meter away and with a spine of the door separating them. Corpse was even more beautiful in person, and Y/N found herself lost in his dark eyes for a while.

"Hi..." She said sheepishly.

Corpse looked at her examining her from head to toe as if he couldn't believe she was real. Finally he smiled so beautifully that she almost forgot to breathe. "Hi." He replied.

Y/N dragged the suitcase a little closer to her, uncertain how to proceed. She didn't have time to think, however, as Corpse seemed to get tired of the waiting and shyness between them, crossed the space between the two and took her in his arms. His body was warm against hers, extremely hot, and his embrace was loving and passionate. Y/N inhaled his attractive scent - a mixture of soap, men's perfume and something else - and Corpse laughed through her hair.

"You’re here!" He exclaimed loudly, laughing deeply, spinning in circles with her still in his arms laughing out loud like he was.

When the two were inside the apartment, Corpse released her and pulled her suitcase inside as well, closing the door to prevent any curious neighbor from trying to see what was going on.

The two of them stayed there with smiles so big on their faces that their cheeks hurt… But it was definitely a good pain.

"I don't even know what to say..." Y / N confessed, practically shaking with excitement in her place.

Corpse smiled again, taking her hand timidly and gently, caressing her skin and interlacing their fingers and pulling her closer to him. "Me neither."

They were silent just enjoying the moment, and enjoying the fact that they were there, together... that it was real. How many times had they imagined this? How many times had they dreamed of that moment?

Corpse lowered his head slightly looking into her eyes intently, but his brows furrowed as if something troubling was going through his mind. "I…"

"What is it?" Y/N questioned worriedly.

Corpse made a shy expression. “Can I… Can I kiss you?”

Y/N's cheeks caught fire but her smile was so big, and she was so happy that she felt like she was going to explode at any moment. "Yes! Yes, of course you can…"

The young man approached, with his hand on Y/N's waist to pull her closer and the other one climbing up her arm, her shoulder, then her neck and resting on her burning cheek, where he was caressing the hot skin. Their fresh, labored and nervous breaths mingled, closing the distance until their lips touched, finally in what felt like an explosion of fireworks or an explosion of magic. Corpse's lips were soft and warm against hers, kissing her tenderly, as he brought their bodies together even more almost as if he was afraid that she would disappear at any moment.

The kiss was a mixture of lips and tongues, longing, passion and mostly love. It ended faster than they would have liked, but they stayed in each other's arms, sharing passionate smiles.

After a moment, Corpse whispered, "I still think this is a dream, and that I'm going to wake up after the normal three fucking hours that I can barely sleep."

Y/N laughed with her heart leaping and butterflies in her belly, playing with the laces of the black sweatshirt he had worn that day, wrapping it around her fingers and looking him in the dark eyes. "Me too, I've pinched myself hundreds of times today just to make sure this was real. But if this is a dream, I don't want to wake up anymore."

"I will punch the face of anyone who tries to wake me up." Corpse joked making Y/N let out the laugh he liked so much to hear.

"I love you." She whispered dizzy with emotion.

"That’s good, because I love you too."

                                                         ♦⋅☆⋅♦

Tag List: @breathygasps​ @unicornblood4ever  @mintchip17  @jay-jay-love

[certifiedskywalker]

Breaking Oaths and Following Orders - Din Djarin

thebounty said: Hey!! I was wondering if I could ask for a request for a Mandalorian x Jedi!reader? It’s inspired by this song (Jenny- Studio Killers) which is basically about friends turned into lovers.

AN: Ah, yes, the TikTok song...I hope I did your idea justice! (I cut the rest of your request out on this official post because I didn’t want to totally spoil what happens!)

You were familiar with the carbon stink of blaster bolts and the excited tension of battle. Limited stints in combat during the Clone Wars, when you were barely old enough to be a padawan, had introduced you to the harsh adrenaline and smells of war. A gunfight in some alley on some Outer Rim world was nothing compared to what you had seen. Though, now, you knew all of what was at stake; you loved all that was at stake.

“I don’t think they’re Jedi,” Din observed as he ducked down behind the thick stone wall you were using as cover. You shot the helmeted man an incredulous look.

“Really? What gave you that idea? The fact they’re not using laser swords or that they’re shooting at us?” Din didn’t respond to your sarcasm and instead popped up above the wall to let a few bolts fly. Based on the yelps of pain, they hit their marks.

“We need to get out of here,” he said once he ducked back down. You nodded and glanced at the Child, still tucked away in his cradle. His big eyes were glued to you, as they often were in the heat of battle. Expectant, waiting for you to make your, the, move.

“Yeah, we do,” you agreed, before you pressed the button on the Child’s cradle that closed the little creature within. The last thing you wanted was more pressure. 

“They have us pinned,” Din said and tipped his head back towards the wall behind you. “And there’s at least five,” the Mandalorian popped up from behind the wall again and nearly missed a blaster bolt to the head, “six up front.”

“Can’t you jet us out of here?”

Wordlessly, Din reached around to his back and rapped his gloved knuckles against the fuel tank of his jet pack. An empty, metallic clang echoed the knocking of his hand. No fuel. 

“Karabast,” you cursed as you turned your attention to the enemies firing luring shots at the relative safety of the wall. There were too many. A step beyond the stone would mean certain death. So did staying put. Direness set in, loomed like a storm cloud in your mind. You glanced back at Din and the Child’s cradle only to have a lump form in your throat. 

As if on cue, the cradle covers opened and revealed the watchful eyes of the Child. He was still focused on you. As you took a moment to study him in return, you neither heard a coo of worry nor did you see flinch of fear. He was calm, eerily so; as if he knew what you were thinking, what you knew you had to do. You moved your gaze to Din and watched as he let a few shots go towards your attackers. A stray blaster bolt from the enemy knocked against the beskar plate on his chest, right above his heart. Too close to where his armor ended and his clothing began. Too close for comfort. You couldn't lose him. 

Adrenaline, pure and vile rushed through you. Before you could move against your instincts, your hand reached out and pulled Din back down behind the stone wall. The dark visor of his helmet met your gaze. You could feel the question on his lips, despite having never seen them. You had spent enough time imagining them; how they looked and how they might feel against your own.

“Grab the kid and run on my word,” you said with a tone of seriousness to break yourself from your wonderings. “Got it?”

Din was still for a moment and you realized that your hand lingered on his arm. Warmth spread through your fingers, up your arm, and to your face. Quickly, you let go, and the Mandalorian seemed to have recovered. He nodded wordlessly and reached out towards the cradle. When the pod was tucked under his arm, you moved to face the stone wall you all were hidden behind. 

“What are you planning, Y/N?” 

Din’s tone was cold, laced with concern. After all the cycles you and the man had worked and lived together, you had noticed he only said your name when you were about to do something dangerous. You had wished he said it more, in different contexts, like one of affection. Though, you had reasoned long ago that Din’s concern was his affection. Like the Jedi, it seemed that Mandalorian of Din’s Creed forewent too-personal, entangling attachments. It was the first principle of the Code that you had wished you had broken long ago. In a sense, you had. The care you held, the love, for Din and the Child...you were a Jedi no longer.

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t pretend.

“You can ask me questions later.”

Before Din could attempt to stop you, you reached down to each of your hips and pulled the two metal, somewhat cylindrical pieces of your lightsaber from your belt. In a practiced motion, you latched the two segments together and pressed the ignite switch. As soon as the blade ignited, you focused your mind on the small, stone wall that sheltered you. Once you pictured it clear in your mind, you threw your hands up and pushed forward. When you opened your eyes, the stone wall hurtled towards your attackers and drove some down into the dirt. You glanced at Din.

“Now!”

At your word, Din rushed towards the now dwindling group of criminals that had been shooting at you. Due to the laser sword in your hands, most of their fire was focused on you. With an ease that surprised you, you twirled your saber in the air and deflected the shots. Most landed in the chests of those had taken aim, giving each a swift death. You gave an extra flourish to redirect a blaster bolt towards one of the attackers that was more interested in Din and cradle.

The man fell quickly and a surge of confidence rushed through you. You still had it, even after all this time of hiding! Only a few criminals remained and you drew closer and closer. As you moved, their aim grew more and more precise. One even dared to charge at you. With you busied dispatching him, another shot off his rifle. White-hot and searing hurt ripped through your lower leg, then your shoulder. A yelp of pain escaped your lips. Overcome by heated rage and long ago lessons forgotten, you tilted forward and struck him down.

Then there was silence. Only your haggard breath filled your ears. The pain in your leg and shoulder overwhelmed your senses. It had been a long time since you had taken a hit. An even longer time since you had used the weapon of your dead Master.

You fell to your knees, tried to focus on forcing your breathing steady. When you hit the ground, your thumb instinctively struck the power switch. With a hiss, the blade closed and you found enough strength to lift your gaze. Your eyes locked with Din’s darkened visor.

“Y/N.”

There was that concern again. It was the last thing you heard before you fell back, let your body rest against the dirt of the alleyway and splatters of blood.

You woke with a start. The wild beating of your heart propelled you, so you sat up straight in the sleeping nook. Your head nearly slammed against the ceiling. When you recognized the interior of the Razor Crest, you allowed yourself to catch your breath.

“Hey, hey, hey” Din appeared in the entrance of the sleeping nook with his hands raised towards you. He looked as if he were approaching a wounded animal. “You’re safe. You’re home.”

You nodded but your head did not clear. On your skin still clung the stink of the alley, the carbon of blaster fire, and, against your hand, you felt the cold hilt of the lightsaber. The moment your eyes landed on the weapon, you felt your breath get caught in your throat once more. Memories of the fight rushed back and your heart still thundered in your chest. You focused on Din’s helmet, studied his now straightened posture, and swallowed hard.

“The Child, is he-”

“He’s fine,” Din replied before the question could leave your lips. You shook your head.

“No, did he see...did he see me?”

“It was hard not to see you,” Din said softly.  

Tension filled the silence that trailed after his words. It was heavier than the pressure of battle. Din always had a way of making it difficult for you to breath. But this was like trying to wade through the muck of a full trash compactor. The air between you was thick, weighed down by everything you both wanted to say to the other.

You shifted in the sleeping nook in an effort to find a more comfortable position. As you moved, your shoulder knocked against the wall and you hissed in pain. Din lurched forwards and towards you. You felt heated skin against your arms and, when you looked down, you found that he had not donned his signature gloves.

“Here. I’ll help you step out.”

Din was careful as he eased you out of the sleeping nook while you tired not to be lost in tender touch of his bare hands against your skin. A wave of affection washed over you when you noted the bandages on your lower leg and shoulder. He had taken his gloves off to take care of you. You wished you could have been conscious to remember it.

“Thanks,” you said once you were on your feet.

Though, Din didn’t let go. Instead, he helped you over to the crates you both used as makeshift seats during meal time. Only when you were both sat down did his hands slip from your arms. The silence seemed to have followed you both over as it settles back between you. 

Your mind swirled with worry and doubt, every word you wanted to say. Betrayal was the word that came back most often. You had betrayed the year of trust you had built with Din by not telling him about your past. You had betrayed the Child by not using the Force to forge a deeper connection with him or hear his story. You had betrayed yourself, the oath you swore long ago to never use the teachings of the Jedi. The thought made your stomach twist.

“Is it yours?”

Din’s question broke you from your down spiral. You met the dark gaze of his visor and shook your head. “No. It’s my old Master’s. I lost mine in battle and took his when he…fell.”

“Master? So, you’re a Jedi?”

“No, I never finished the Tri-”

“You can’t do that.” You cocked your head at his interruption. “You can’t keep saying ‘no’ and then give a reason that implies ‘yes’. Are you or are you not a Jedi?”

You swallowed hard, the truth, as Din knew it, balanced on the tip of your tongue. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” There was an edge of anger in his voice but as heated as you had expected. “Why didn’t you tell me when we were sent to look for Jedi, for him?”

“Like I was saying, I didn’t finished my training or the Trials. I don’t know the mysteries the Council kept hidden or where any others are.” Din stood up at your reasoning and stared down at you. Even masked behind the helmet, you still felt the intensity of his eyes on you. 

“You should have told me.” He said, the heat a little higher in his voice. “Do you not trust me enough to keep you safe?”

Stoked by the flames of his voice, you stood from your seat. Din’s visor remained trained on you, waiting for your next move. There was only a step’s worth of space between you now and it was either the close proximity or the pain of your wounds that made your face flush. You weren’t entirely sure as to which but you did know your own truth.

“No, I trust you, Din, with my life,” his name left your lips without a thought. Between thoughts, you realized it was the first time you said his name aloud after learning on Nevarro; but you couldn’t stop now. “The Jedi’s way is old, just as old as the Mandalore, and we have our customs. Following orders is one of them and I was given an order to stay quiet, to stay hidden. I will not apologize for following that order, even if I am a Jedi no longer.”

All of the sudden, the fight and anger left you. You thought of your Master, how he would be disappointed in your outburst. Overwhelmed by the feeling, you sat back down on your crate while Din stayed standing. Heavy, you head fell into your hands. In the dark behind your eyelids, you found little solace or comfort.

Just as you were about to admit defeat and retire back to the sleeping nook, hands gripped your wrists. Gently, Din pulled your hands away from your face and, in response, you looked into his visor. For a moment, you swore that you could see his eyes shining beneath his helmet, his own order and oath manifested in beskar. Before you could ask what he was doing, his hands fell from your wrists and tucked up under the bottom of his helmet.

“Din,” you said, the same concern that swaddled your name in his voice now held his own. “Don’t do this, not like this.”

“I trust you, Y/N, with my life.” His words echoed your own only softer and you were too caught off guard by that tenderness to try to stop his hands as they pushed up. 

You saw the first slivers of tanned skin. Then a scruff covered chin and slope of his jawline. Lips were next on the tour of Din’s features; the very lips you had tried to imagine hundreds of times before. They were pinker than you thought, a little chapped too, but you still longed for them. Then the tip and bridge of his curved nose. A pair of dark brown eyes.

You held Din’s eyes with yours as he finished removing the helmet. He set it on the floor of the Razor Crest with a dull thud, his eyes never leaving yours. Strands of brown hair were set against his forehead, tantalizing enough for you to touch. You fought the urge so you could take in his features a little longer. Despite knowing, based on his voice, that Din was handsome, it was another thing to see it confirmed. 

Unable to hold back anymore, you reached a careful hand out. Din recoiled, flinched away from your reach and you pulled back. Just as you were about to apologize, Din recovered and lifted his own hand. Warm, he guided your hand with his until your fingertips brushed against his temple. When he let go of your wrist, you brushed the hair off from his forehead.

At your touch, Din sucked in a shakey, sharp breath. Scared for a moment that he wouldn’t exhale, you traced your hand down from his forehead to the side of his face. Once you had cupped his cheek, Din closed his eyes and let the breath go. His head tilted, leaned into your touch.

“We’re both oath breakers now, huh?”

Din’s eyes opened at your question. Dark and knowing, his eyes met yours before they flickered down to your lips. You trailed your hand along his jaw until you held his chin between two of your fingers. His breath hitched at the suggestive touch.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t want this,” you murmured, the pain of your wounds long forgotten. “Din?”

Wordlessly, from where he kneeled before, Din rushed up and towards you. Messily, his lips found yours and his hands gripped at your waist. Quickly, he pulled you against his chest where the cold kiss of beskar greeted your skin. Not that you minded. You were too caught up in Din’s lips against yours, how you had waited a year for this. You weren’t about to let that go.

Not for any order.

[kiame-sama]

Could you do a Yandere Silva where the reader is getting hit on by a butler with a death wish and Silva freaks and it ends with rough sex where reader won’t be able to walk👀🍵

Warnings; lemon, rough behavior, yandere relationship, yandere behavior, mentioned non-con, reader gets threatened, reader has female parts, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), 69, peak into the yandere mind of an assassin,

~~~~~~~~

You sat quietly in your room, relaxing back on the large couch and idly listening to whatever was currently on the TV. It had been a fairly quiet day, but most days were quiet (other than when Silva decides he needs attention). You were rather bored, slightly considered taking a nap or even calling for Silva just for some kind of entertainment.

Just as you were in the middle of deciding what to do, the door slowly began to open. This immediately put you on guard since the only ones who would enter your room tended to fling it open despite how unbelievably heavy the door actually was. You were quick to retrieve your panic button, a distress alert Silva had given you just in precaution for someone getting to your room. It only happened once that some fool decided to kidnap you without anyone knowing until you were already gone, but he made certain it would never happen again.

You fiddled with the small device nervously, watching the door with great anticipation for whoever it was on the other side. You were surprised to see a man you had never met before. He wore a suit identical to that of the butlers that worked in the manor, but all of the butlers should know better than to even come within twenty feet of your room.

"So you're the famous Zoldyck treasure. I can certainly see why."

He looked you up and down, making you feel far more exposed than you actually were. The man was blond and had bright blue eyes that seemed to glimmer in the light of your cell. He was fairly tall, though not as tall as Silva, and he had sun-kissed tan skin. The way he looked at you like a piece of meat made your skin start to crawl, so you subtly pressed the button and hoped that this man wouldn't have the time to do anything to you.

"You're quite the big mystery. Most here don't know what's in this room, and It's even one of the most enforced rules; don't go near this room. I can see why you're considered a treasure, a lovely thing like you would attract a lot of attention. But, I don't see why you're kept away from everyone like this. Can you tell me?"

"..."

"It's okay, I don't bite, unless you want me to. You must be such a fragile little thing, being locked up like this for your safety."

"I'm not locked up for my own benefit."

"Oh?"

"I'm here because my husband doesn't like sharing."

This, instead of making the man back off like you thought it would, the man only seemed to become more interested in you due to your words. He began a slow approach towards you, making you retreat until your back was pressed against the wall and he was mere inches away from you. You tried to turn your head away from him, keeping as much distance as possible between the two of you, knowing just how Silva will react.

"He doesn't have to know... Isn't it exciting, though? Sneaking around like this."

"No."

"Oh come on, live a little, sweetheart."

"Leave me alone."

"Nah, I don't think I will. In fact, no one even knows I'm here, so no one will come check on you. I could do so many things to your tight little body with the time I have... And no one would even hear you cry for help."

"Stop- Stop it."

"So scared. Good. I like 'em scared. You're gonna be so much f-"

He was suddenly cut off by the door slamming open with enough force to make the walls shake, him turning on his heel to confront whoever just arrived. You were quick to slide past the stunned man as he turned away from you, hurriedly making it to Silva's side and hiding behind him. The man had a look of pure terror on his face, clearly not expecting the terrifying assassin to appear.

You gripped tightly to the back of Silva's shirt, pressing your forehead against his broad back as you hid from the intruder that had threatened you so gleefully. The small glimpse you got of Silva's expression was enough to tell you everything you needed to know. He wasn't just mad, he was furious. Luckily, none of that fury was directed towards you.

Not only were his burning blue eyes filled with pure hate, they seemed to glow in the light of the room with a predatorial glint. He never really seemed to smile anyway, but his expression wasn't his usual scowl, it was akin to the stone-cold expression of a wild animal ready to kill. There was a palpable hate in the air that made it quite clear Silva had no intention to let the man live.

"Did he do anything to you?"

"He threatened me."

A low hum that sounded more like a growl rumbled from his chest, clearly displeased. The man had yet to move from his original spot, frozen in terror at the intimidating visage of your furious husband. Had the situation been different, and had the man not threatened you, you would have felt pity for him, but you felt no pity now.

"Explain."

"Wha-What?"

"Explain just what you are doing in my wife's room."

The man had already been terror stricken, but now all of the color disappeared from his face as he realized just how stupid his decision had been. He had assumed you were just another family member, maybe a sister or daughter. He only began to now realize just how fucked he was. Even though he was a relatively new butler, he knew of Silva's infamous temper and he also knew to never talk about Silva's wife, lest he wish for the most painful death possible.

He had seen Kikyo around, and since Kalluto was always trailing behind, he had assumed that she was Silva's wife and did his damndest to stay away from her and stay out of her path. He had heard stories about what would happen to anyone who took any level of interest in Silva's wife, but he had just figured it was meant as a basic warning about the woman herself. Yet here he was, staring at the most terrifying man he had ever encountered after just having threatened and attempted to force himself onto the very woman he was warned to never speak of.

"Well?"

"I- I didn't- I hadn't- but-"

"You've already exceeded my patience, filth."

"I'm- I'm sorry! I didn't know who she was! I wouldn't have said those things to her if-"

"Said what 'things'?"

"..."

You pulled away to look up at your towering husband, seeing him glance over his shoulder at you, his eyes far more gentle and loving. The glance was a clear prompt to speak, and you'd rather not push Silva's buttons at that moment, given his unyielding rage about to overflow.

"He threatened to rape me and said no one would hear me scream."

There was a sudden change in the entire room the moment you finished your sentence. It was a crushingly heavy pressure that seeped into every corner like a rolling miasma, consuming everything. The pressure quickly lifted from you, allowing you to breathe though it was clear the intruder did not receive the same kindness as he choked and dropped to his knees.

If you thought Silva was mad before, he was as tame as a kitten in comparison to the rage that now consumed him. You were well aware of Silva's knowledge in ways to kill a man, but it seemed more like he was interested in a slow drawn out slaughter. He never once looked away from the terrified man, even as he spoke in a gentle tone to you.

"(Y/n), go wait in our room. Don't come out until I tell you to."

"Alright..."

Quickly scrambling to the room you two shared, you caught a glimpse at Silva's expression and felt your heart drop into your stomach. Even though you knew he was not angry with you at all, that look alone sent fear running down your spine and into your very being. You closed the door and sat on your bed, hearing a sudden shrill voice begin screaming.

It wasn't hard for you to guess the kind of mood Silva would be in once he was done dealing with the man. There was no doubt in your mind he was going to be rough as well, knowing how he got when jealous. You also knew he would be jealous as all hell due to the man being in your room. It may not have been your fault and the man may be dead, but with Silva, jealousy didn't fade away.

There were few things you could do at that point to soften Silva's mood, and honestly him being rough wasn't that bad (so long as he doesn't break your bones). Given how terrifying just a glance at him was, you figured you'd do something that should brighten his mood and help soothe his jealousy a bit. You dug through your clothes picking out your white and blue lingerie- Silva's favorite for obvious reasons- and waited on the bed.

The screams had yet to stop, though they certainly took on a more gurgling tone the longer it went. You shivered slightly, wondering just what Silva was doing to the man, since he was an expert at torturing people. Though he has hurt you in the past- most being accidental- you know just how strong he is and just how deeply his few emotions impact him. Looking from the outside, he feels nothing, but with you he is extremely expressive in everything he does.

You lay back on the bed, thinking about how much you truly impacted him and how much your wellness meant to him. Hell, the man would move heaven itself if you wanted him to. He was the dominant partner, but he was also a slave to your every emotion.

While you let yourself get lost in thought, you slowly slipped off to sleep with Silva's pillow cuddled in your arms.

Movement on the bed drew you out of your peaceful slumber, letting out an upset whine at being woken. You were slightly disoriented from your sudden awakening and blearily blinked the sleep out of your eyes. As your brain began to fully wake as well, you realized that Silva was right above you, his large hands on either side of your head.

There was a faint feeling of surprise as you noticed not a speck of blood on the giant man. You figured he would have been soaked in the blood of that idiot butler, but not a single fleck of red marred his flawless skin.

"Trying to cheer me up?"

There was the slightest of smiles pulling at his lips as his eyes slowly dragged over your barely covered figure, letting out a low hum of pleasure and licking his lips slowly. He seemed almost too calm at that moment, but you knew the beast that dwells within would easily come forth once he began.

"It certainly does help..."

"I thought it would be nice to surprise you... but I guess I fell asleep before you came back."

"You are a wonderful creature, (y/n), did you know that?"

"Well, there has to be some reason you keep me around."

"Sassy thing."

His tone was teasing, but you knew he wouldn't be teasing you for very long, not with the way his sharp blue eyes roamed your body. He sat up, now letting his hands roam your soft body and squeezing every few seconds. No matter what mark may be on you- be it a scar, a birthmark, a mole, didn't matter- he adored you and held such reverence for you. Even when you gain or lose weight, you are a Goddess in his eyes, and he made sure to treat his Goddess well.

"Mmm, you do know how to rile me up."

"Lots of practice."

You reached up to run your fingers through his hair, watching his eyes narrow in bliss from your gentle touch. When you suddenly tightened your grip and tugged on his long hair, that calm expression changed in an instant. He was now less of a man than he was a beast, moving you suddenly so your legs rest on his shoulders, your back against the pillows.

He didn't say a single word as he gripped the lacy panties you wore between his teeth, pulling back in one smooth motion and ripping the delicate fabric with ease. You were about to whine at the destruction of his favorite set but you didn't even manage to get a single word out before he buried his head between your thighs, tongue easily sliding through your soft folds. He didn't bother with being slow in working you up, he just slid his tongue as deeply into you as he could to slurp up your juices.

The noises coming from him were obscene as he sucked on your soft pussy, low moans vibrating against you as he gripped your legs tighter, pulling you closer to his mouth. You ran your fingers through his hair, gripping tightly and tilting your head back with breathy moans. He held your hips still, making it so you were unable to do anything other than writhe in the pleasure he gave you.

It was clear that him holding you still was more of a dominance thing to reassure himself and soothe his burning jealousy more than it was to show his dominance over you. He was using your presence and your sweet moans as his own validation of being your one and only. Reminding himself- and in some ways, you- that you were still his and he had no intention of sharing you in any way.

You truly have only had honest social interaction with three people on a consistent basis and your five children on the odd occasion for more than twenty years. If that didn't give you a good visualization of how deep his jealousy runs, then it would be the contempt he has for his own children. As far as he was concerned, you only truly needed him in your life and no one else would have the chance or ability to get between the two of you.

He was much like a religious zealot with how fiercely he coveted you and everything about you. His tongue was as deep in you as possible while his large thumb rubbed your clit, blue eyes closed in bliss as if he truly received deep pleasure from taking care of you and pleasuring you like a wild animal did its mate. You were his everything, and he wanted your everything desperately enough he had you kidnapped only days after meeting you, already in deep obsession and fanatical adoration for you.

Continuing with endless stamina, he brought you up to mindless pleasure and kept you there, every whining cry you made only served to fuel his desire and increase blood-flow to his achingly hard cock. In typical Silva fashion, he completely ignored his own needs to not only ensure your pleasure, but to test himself to see how long he could listen to you moan before snapping and giving in to the starving beast within him. He was quite the dominant masochist when it came down to it, always adoring every scratch and mark you make on his fair skin but also making sure he was the one on top and in control.

With a loud sucking sound, he pulled away from your soaked pussy, licking his lips with hazy bliss filled eyes never leaving your shaking form. He was completely lost in his desire to possess all of you, and he gently trailed his warm hands up your soft front until he lightly gripped your chin, holding your mouth open. You were faintly worried about what he planned on doing while in such a blissed out state, yelping when he moved you down the bed with both hands before moving so his muscular legs were on either side of your head.

He slid his large cock slowly into your mouth, your jaw stretching a bit further to accommodate the rock-hard length. A deep moan rose up from his chest as he thrusted his hips a few times before returning to digging his tongue into your slick heat. He did the majority of the work to pleasure you both, ensuring to keep himself from making you deep throat him just yet. You reached up to rest your hands on his hips for your own sake should he unintentionally begin to choke you, but to Silva the contact of your gentle hands on his pale skin was overwhelmingly intense.

He was extremely touch starved when it came to you due to his distant and cold upbringing despite how much physical contact he actually had with you on a regular basis. Just another reason for him to be obsessed with the touch of your skin and the feel of your body against his. Each small brush of your hand anywhere on his body sent intense sensations running through his very being. To feel not a hint of affection during the critical developmental beginning years of his life left him distant and made him believe all outside touch would bring only pain.

Of course, when he met you, his entire world changed drastically. Your touch was gentle and brought no pain with it, only the sweet sensation of honest care and empathy. He had to have you, and only you. Only your touch brought him such calming pleasure and consuming affection. Even as he bucked his hips into your warm mouth, he was past cloud 9 in absolute bliss, sinking his tongue into your extremely wet pussy and almost desperately trying to bring you the same level of pleasure that he felt even when simply in your presence.

That's what he always tried to do.

He felt so much from and for you that he couldn't help but attempt to reciprocate that pleasure any chance he got. His addiction to your touch was likely why you two were still so sexually active even after decades together, that and Silva used that intimate connection to soothe his own mind consuming anxiety. It was why he became so irritable whenever he is away from your side for more than 24 hours. His mind drowns him in anxiety with every outcome of you being attacked while he is away.

It would destroy him to know something hurt you or you were unwell in some way while he was gone. He would feel like he failed you as your husband and that he failed you as your protector. He refused to fail. The cost would be too great.

You, on the other hand, happened to be lost in the feelings of pleasure running through your veins, to the point you didn't honestly notice much other than the warm cock in your mouth and the hot tongue on your pussy. Every moan you made only made that large length twitch and throb, feeling the slide of your tongue against his flesh as you let your fingers slide over his hips. It was clear he enjoyed it as he let out deep moans and growls of pleasure, holding himself back as long as possible.

Just when you felt the pulse of his heartbeat flutter, he pulled away from you, leaving you confused and slightly dazed. He was watching you try to collect your thoughts, proud he made you so delirious with pleasure that you needed time to return to awareness. His movements were slow and methodical as he positioned himself between your legs, raising your hips up so he could slide through your soft folds.

"Look at me, (y/n)."

His deep voice drew your scattered attention, staring up into his intense blue eyes in an almost questioning way. There was a moment of silence as he stared at you in adoration, not looking away from you as he slowly slid his firm length into you, watching the way you gasped and writhed on the bed. He gave you only a moment to adjust to his size once more before he began to thrust into your welcoming body, drowning in the tight embrace of your warm insides.

You moved up and down on the bed with each rough thrust, clawing at the sheets beneath you. Silva pound into you with such intensity you could barely draw in a breath before it was being forced back out with another rough thrust. He leaned over your writhing and mewling form to start pressing open mouthed kissed against your neck, biting down a few times to hear you yelp and whine. You wrapped your arms around him and let your nails bite down on his fair skin, shivering from his rumbling moan directly against you ear.

As you felt your orgasm creeping up with alarming speed, you reached up to his hair and gripped on the long locks, tugging hard enough to remove his lips from your neck. You had to stop tugging on his hair and just cling to him as his thrusts became rougher, pressing one of his hands against your soft stomach and feeling the way he moved inside of you. The increased sensation of his large cock rubbing against your tight walls practically made you scream in delight, your pleasure overwhelming and consuming you as your orgasm flooded your body.

"So tight..! You are mine. You will always be mine. I'll never let you go. I'll never let you forget."

You barely registered his crooning words due to your overstimulated nerves sizzling in your brain. He adored the hazy look in your eyes as you were consumed by the pleasure he provided you. That sweet expression on your lovely face was enough to push him over the edge, his hot cum painting your soft insides with every intense pulse.

When he finally pulled out of you, you were still trying to catch your breath and clung to his body with all of the remaining energy you had. The low humming chuckle that came from him was a soft and soothing rumble that was quite like the purr of some feral beast. You curled close to his warm body, snuggling down into his grasp as he pulled the blanket over the both of you, kissing your forehead gently.

"Mine."

[jayvoir]

tease — bang chan

word count: 2k words

warnings: smut, dom!chan, sub!reader, reader has an arm kink, reader is bratty as hell, lots of teasing, daddy kink, thigh riding, degradation, praising, orgasm denial, exhibitionism, car sex, filthy sex, choking

summary: teasing chan in public was one of your favorite things to do. especially when friends are present.

authors note: i’ve discovered that i thoroughly enjoy writing smut.

tagging: @jaykehoon @gukshome @lqsience

“y/n, baby are you ready,” you heard chan call out. you two were getting ready to go out to eat with a few of his band mates, jisung, changbin and hyunjin. you were super excited since you hadn’t seen them in a while, so you made sure to dress your best. you also knew chan would appreciate the outfit. he loved crop tops on you. you were wearing black ripped jeans, paired with a solid white crop top. you decided to go with a simple pair of white adidas, your hair down.

“yeah, i’m ready,” you called out in response. you hurried out of the bathroom, and went to find chan. he was waiting by the front door and you stopped in your tracks when you saw him. he was dressed in gray sweatpants and a black sleeveless muscle tank. his arms were exposed, his veins prominent. you couldn’t stop yourself from staring, not noticing that chan had seen.

“you okay babygirl,” he asked, a knowing smirk on his face. you immediately snapped out of it, looking up to meet his eyes. you simply nodded as he took your hand and led you out to the car. you climbed in, getting buckled as chan did the same. he started the car, and turned his body around, keeping himself in place by putting his hand on the back of your seat, so he could see as he backed out of the driveway. you gulped, trying to get the dirty thoughts out of your head. however, him placing one hand on your thigh as he drove was not helping.

he rubbed small circles on your thigh with his thumb the whole ride. usually it would be a comforting gesture, but for some reason, it was getting you even more riled up. he didn’t take his hand off until he parked and you both got out of the car. he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into him as you walked. this was also a normal occurrence, but you were shivering from the contact. if chan noticed, he didn’t comment on it, which part of you was thankful for. the other part of you wanted him to notice and take you right then and there.

chan led you inside, where the boys had already gotten a table. you and chan took your seats, which were right next to each other. ‘dangerous,’ you thought. you all greeted each other, catching up on how things have been. the waitress had come over and taken the orders, all the boring stuff. it was when she brought the drinks over. she placed all the drinks in front of everyone, a glass of water in front of chan. maybe it was the way his arm flexed when he picked up the glass. maybe it was the way he tilted his head back to drink, his adam’s apple becoming more prominent. all you knew is that you were beyond needy, and wanted to be taken care of. and that’s when the idea popped into your head.

chan hated when you teased him. especially in front of other people. however, you were the opposite. you loved getting him all riled up in public, knowing that when you two were alone once again, you would get what you wanted. you started small, placing your palm on his thigh. he simply glanced at you, not thinking anything of the action. and then you started moving your hand up and that’s when chan knew what you were up to. he grabbed your wrist and leaned over, whispering in your ear. “you better stop while you’re ahead, baby.” his words send shivers down to your spine, butterflies erupting inside of you.

you simply nodded and put your hand in your lap, acting as if you were finished. he muttered a quiet ‘good girl,’ doing his best to be sure the boys didn’t hear. a few moments later when the waitress arrived to take food orders, you placed your hand back on his thigh as you ordered. you slowly moved it higher as the boys ordered, and once it was chan’s turn, your hand was resting on his length. you gently palmed him through his sweatpants as he spoke, smirking to yourself when chan had to cough to cover up a moan. when the waitress had left, he shot you a look and you knew you were in trouble. but honestly you didn’t care. teasing chan was your favorite.

chan turned away from you at the sound of hyunjin’s voice, asking him how the new song was coming along. chan talked with the three members for a moment before you began your teasing again. except this time, instead of moving your hand up his thigh, you went straight to palming him through his sweats. he visibly tensed up, clenching one of his hands into a fist. you slipped your hand into his sweats and began stroking him under the table. he quickly gripped your wrist, trying to get you to stop, however it was already too late. he was ridiculously hard, to the point where it was almost painful. he stood up, praying to god that no one would notice. thankfully, it seemed the boys did not. only you did, and you had to stop yourself from drooling.

“excuse me, i’m gonna go to the restroom. i’ll be right back,” he said quickly, scurrying off to the bathroom. you smirked to yourself, knowing exactly what he went in there to do. until your phone went off and you almost dropped it on the floor after reading what the message said. it was a message from chan. it was a quite simple message, but you knew the meaning behind it. “meet me in the car, now. you’re in big trouble.” you could feel a rush of arousal get sent straight to your core, making you shiver slightly. you stood up and gave the boys an apologetic smile.

“i should go check on him. i’ll be back in a sec.” the boys nodded, seeming to buy your excuse. you smiled gratefully and hurried out to the car where you saw chan in the backseat waiting for you to arrive. you took a deep breath before approaching the car, opening the door, and climbing in. chan looked at you, his eyes dark, making you feel small. you shut the door and he quickly leaned up to press the lock button on the drivers side door. before you knew it, he had lifted you up, placing you on his lap. your legs were straddled on his waist, a leg on either side of his thighs. he rested his hands on your hips, studying the look on your face. all he saw was excitement.

“now where do you think you get off teasing me like that,” he asked, his voice almost venomous. you looked around, trying to come up with an answer, earning a smack to the ass from chan when you didn’t reply. “answer me princess. unless you want your punishment to be a lot worse.”

“i-i just wanted to... i just-” he cut you off, placing a finger on your lips.

“aw, pretty baby can’t even answer. you were so confident earlier, touching me like that in the middle of the restaurant. and now you can’t even speak, how cute is that?” his words sparked something inside of you, making you whine quietly. but of course, chan had seemed to hear it.

“now you’re whining? do you want something from daddy, princess?” he had a cocky smirk on his face the whole time, one of his hands slowly making its way to your heat. you gripped onto his shirt, subconsciously beginning to rock your hips into his. he bit his lip, trying to hold in a moan as he moved you over to his thigh so you could ride it. you rocked your hips back and forth on his thigh, digging your nails into his shoulder.

“that’s my good girl,” he smirked, his hands on your hips helping to guide your movements. he flexed his thigh muscles every once in a while, only doubling the pleasure, making you let out a high pitched moan. in no time, you felt the knot in your stomach begin to form, making you grip onto chan tighter. he obviously noticed, and just as the knot was about to snap, he lifted you off of his thigh. you whimpered and whined, desperately wanting the ache between your legs to be taken care of. but chan had other plans.

“you know the drill, princess. you break a rule, you don’t get to cum.” his voice was deep, the darkness in his eyes still present. “if you want to cum so bad, do it yourself,” he smirked, motioning to the bulge in his sweatpants. your eyes brightened at the suggestion, quickly taking off your jeans and moving your panties to the side. chan tugged his sweats and boxers down, his length hitting his stomach. you kicked your lips before crawling on his lap, lining yourself up with him.

you slowly sunk down onto him, making him hiss and grab a hold of your hips. once he was bottomed out, you slowly began bouncing up and down, holding onto his shoulders for support. you bit down onto your lip, hard enough to almost draw blood. you let out a few loud moans, speeding up your actions. chan threw his head back in pure bliss, exposing his neck. you took this opportunity to lean down and pepper his neck in kisses, leaving a few hickeys while you were at it. this made chan grip onto your hips tighter, sure to leave marks.

and as you began to feel the knot form and you started to speed up more, wanting to get to your release quicker, chan reached up and wrapped a hand around your throat. the coolness of the rings, the heat from his hands, and the light squeeze to the sides was enough to have you seeing stars. “i think you’re forgetting that you’re not the one in charge here. just because you’re on top does not mean that you get to call the shots.” his voice was venemous, mean. he flipped you over, your back against the seat. he hovered over you, lining himself up, and wasted no time in pushing himself in.

he quickly found a fast pace, pinning your hands above your head. not a moment later, he threw your leg over his shoulder, him going deeper. he had you basically screaming as he rolled his hips into yours, rubbing at your clit with his free hand. you felt yourself get close in no time, digging your nails into chan’s back. you wouldn’t be surprised if you drew blood. “chan i-i’m so c-close-”

“don’t you dare cum yet,” he demanded, voice shaky, signifying his release was close as well. he thrusted into you a few more times before pulling out, pumping himself and cumming onto your stomach. he started pulling his boxers and sweats back on, pulling up your panties and jeans for you. you looked at him, a pout present on your lips, making him chuckle. “princess, don’t get pouty. you break the rules, you don’t cum, simple as that.” you kept pouting but nodded nonetheless, fixing your hair to make yourself look somewhat presentable and not so fucked out. “if you’re good while we finish eating, i’ll let you cum when we get home, okay princess?” you nodded, a small smile now tugging at your lips. chan did the same, getting himself together again, and helped you out of the car, leading you back inside, to the table with the boys.

they all took one look at the both of you and busted out laughing. no matter your efforts to look normal, they could clearly see what had happened, making you blush out of embarrassment. “damn, y’all couldn’t even last throughout lunch without fucking,” jisung said with a laugh. changbin and hyunjin laughed with him, making chan chuckle softly as well.

“she broke a rule. she had to be taught a lesson.” his words were so nonchalant, making your cheeks flare up once more. this seemed to shut the boys up, making chan smirk as he began eating, acting as if nothing happened.

“i’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.”

[angstyaches]

If you're still taking prompts- Felix and Elliott haven't seen each other all day, and Elliott's been gassy all day, so when he finally gets to talk to Felix that night, Felix is really angry for some reason but E hasn't been feeling good so Felix takes care of him cause he feels bad and Elliott is just in so much pain 💔 Sorry English isn't my first language -🍫

Thank you for this request, it’s just lovely, and I’ve been so excited to get it finished for you! I couldn’t think of anything that would result in Felix being just the right amount of angry for this scenario, so he’s more annoyed than angry.

Also, we’re just going to ignore the fact that having someone heavier than you lie on your chest restricts your breathing, because Elliott deserves this, damn it.

CW: burping, stomach and chest pains, stomach noises, mention of vampire drinking (animal) blood, slight over-indulgence, slight mention of coming out a prolonged bout of nausea and lack of appetite.

___

“So,” Felix said, stretching his legs out across the bed and then crossing them at the knees. He was gradually working away on one of his blood lollipops, every so often sticking it in his mouth and having to speak around it. “Ugh, I was driving home, doing the speed limit, naturally.”

“Naturally,” Elliott agreed, resisting a sarcastic grin. Felix was the only driver he knew who didn’t violate speed limits every so often, not even by a couple of kilometres-per-hour.

“I suppose it was peak commuting time,” Felix went on. “Which was my own fault for leaving late. I was basically asking for trouble.”

As he listened, Elliott crossed the room to pick up the hairbrush from his bedside locker. He only had to bend a couple of degrees to reach it, but something about the shift in his posture made something shift inside him, too. He squeezed his lips together as he straightened, swallowing a clump of pressure that tried to escape up his throat. There was a distressed growl deep in his stomach as a result, which he managed to cover up by clearing his throat.

“Coming through town the usual way, past the supermarket and over the bridge,” Felix continued, unaware that any of this was happening.

“Mmhmm.” Elliott nodded in encouragement, going back into the ensuite bathroom and standing in front of the sink. His partner was still visible in the mirror, the door wide open so they could still hear each other.

Elliott pressed a fist to his mouth, releasing a short, grumbling belch.

“And then some idiot with a – I don’t know, a Chrysler or something? I mean, who needs a car that big, anyway? Anyway, they pulled out of the petrol station right in front of me, and I had to slam on the brakes!” Felix sighed deeply, letting his hands fall onto his chest. “I mean, I wasn’t going fast, but what if I had been? What if I'd had a cake on the front seat? It would've gone flying and been destroyed! Gosh, I thought I was going to have a heart attack, I was so mad.”

Elliott inhaled softly through his lips, looking into the mirror as he started tugging the brush through his hair. It was almost down to his elbows these days, and he couldn’t decide it he liked it, or if he wanted to cut it back to shoulder-length again.

He braced himself against a hiccup, realising he hadn’t responded to Felix in a while. He swallowed thickly, trying to recall the last thing he’d heard his partner say. “Did – did you honk the horn at them..?”

“I – well, no, I didn’t,” Felix said, sitting up on his elbows to glare at Elliott in the mirror. “I was mad, but come on, Elli. It was a built-up area, and it was after seven. What if there’d been a baby sleeping somewhere nearby?”

“Right…” Elliott murmured, as if he’d never, ever blown the horn of a car in a built-up area before.

“Anyway,” Felix grunted, flopping back down.

There was a distinct, bubbling sound coming from the upper part of Elliott’s abdomen now. He tried pushing his fingers gently into his stomach, just below his ribs, but he immediately hated the sensation and planted his hands next to the sink. That wasn’t going to work, but the discomfort was becoming so bad that he could feel it draining his energy and – more notably – his patience.

And the last thing he wanted, after a long day without seeing one another, was to snap at Felix over something as silly as a stomach ache.

“I’m just, you know… What the hell’s wrong with people?” Felix continued from the bed. “If they just opened their eyes for a moment, they might actually see something…”

He was still muttering – mostly to himself, at this point – about irresponsible drivers when Elliott closed the bathroom door and walked across the room. He approached the bed from the wrong side, which snagged Felix’s attention. The mint-haired boy looked up at Elliott, as though waiting for him to ask for something. His hands were folded neatly across his middle, his head on the pillow, his legs outstretched and uncrossed.

A pang of pure, untainted affection fluttered in Elliott's chest; as least, he was almost sure it was affection and not just a swell of pressure from his stomach. He half-smiled, watching Felix's expression soften.

“Are – are you alright, darling?”

Without a word in response, Elliott knelt at the end of the bed near Felix’s feet. He spread his hands and placed them either side of Felix’s waist, pressing into the blanket and the mattress.

“Oh,” Felix laughed, a slight blush instantly rushing into his cheeks. “Are we…? Oh, okay.” With a confused look on his face, he lifted his hands from his chest, making space for Elliott to lay down on him, head pressed between Felix’s neck and shoulder.

Felix dragged his fingers gently over the back of Elliott’s neck, pulling heavy locks of his hair together and scooping them to one side. “Darling, what’s brought this on?”

Elliott shrugged lightly. He didn’t really know himself, but the simplest answer seemed to be a fitting one. “You looked comfortable.”

“I see…. Well, you can rest your full weight on me,” Felix offered, his voice a little shaky. “I’m small, but I can take it.”

The tension gradually seeped out of Elliott’s muscles as he sank a little harder into Felix. He felt another shift in his stomach contents, which made a light sheen of sweat break out on the back of his neck. He swallowed, counter-productively, before dragging a heavy fist to his mouth.

The rumbling pressure got caught in the back of his throat, circling nauseatingly for a moment before slipping backwards. A tightness in his chest made him frown. His stomach rumbled so hard that it reverberated through his ribcage and gurgled in the back of his throat.

“Oh, gosh, I felt that,” Felix said, sliding on hand from Elliott’s neck towards his upper back. “Is everything okay in there?”

With his fist still waiting by his mouth, Elliott gave a quick nod. “My stomach’s slightly upset, but it’s nothing to worry about. Are you sure I’m not hurting you?”

“Yes, I’m sure! What’s wrong with your stomach?”

“Nothing…” Elliott winced as another bubble moved through his belly, catching in his oesophagus. “Well, I may have over-indulged slightly today, for the first time since my symptoms cleared up.”

“Ah, okay.” Felix’s tone was a little lighter now, as his hand smoothed over the plane of flesh between Elliott’s shoulder blades. “Obviously, I’m not relieved that you’re in pain, but it is comforting to know you’re getting back to your old self.”

“A bloodthirsty bastard?”

Felix stifled a laugh, And Elliott half-smiled to himself before a cramp rolled through his gut, once again coming to a sharp head just beneath his sternum. He parted his lips, hoping to coax some of the air up, but it gurgled all the way back down to his stomach, making the unhappy organ churn and roll.

A sigh of frustration left his mouth instead. Felix gave his back a slightly more urgent pat, hoping to move things along.

“Ugh,” Elliott groaned, resting his hand on Felix’s shoulder as he waited. “You can keep talking, boo. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“No, no,” Felix half-laughed, gently scratching his fingernails against the back of Elliott’s neck again. “That was just ranting. Taking care of you is so much more important.”

Elliott pressed his lips together. The pressure in his chest was beginning to build up again. The rumbling seemed to start behind his belly button and creep its way up behind his sternum.

Felix spread his hand over Elliott’s back again, no doubt feeling every vibration going through his organs and ribs.

Only when the pressure reached his throat, did it move with any kind of urgency. Elliott barely had time to form a fist again, pressing it to his mouth and releasing the burp as steadily as he could. It went on for about five seconds, making much less noise than it had when it had been rumbling around in his chest. Elliott frowned, knowing that there was no way that was the end of it.

“Sorry,” Elliott mumbled, turning his neck to burrow into Felix’s neck. He knew he was acting much shier than he usually would, but he’d already been feeling a bit embarrassed about climbing on top of Felix in the first place.

“Nothing to apologise for.” Felix tilted his head and rubbed his cheek against the top of Elliott’s head.

Elliott nuzzled even further into Felix’s neck as another belch bubbled up, determined not to direct it into his partner’s face. A low groan followed it, a sound that pleading for an end to this ordeal; although, if he was being honest, the pains twisting his stomach and tightening his chest were already fading. Felix’s hand continued to smooth over his back, fingertips occasionally tracing the shape of his spine and shoulder blades, and Elliott wasn’t about to ask him to stop anytime soon.

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

big dump of random screenshots + things i noticed when replaying dr ch2 yesterday (big spoilers under the cut, obviously. also it’s long)

if you check the sink before you leave for school, you get this “*(It is not yet time to wash your hands.)”, which is new, referencing this chapter’s ending

susie’s surprised sprite, nothing unusual about it i just think it’s hilarious

kris’ room in ralsei’s castle and in their regular house have a lot of similarities! down to the shelves above the bed and the Delta Rune rug on the floor. (isn’t that a holy symbol? lol) except here, the shelves are full and the Delta Rune’s triangles are susie/ralsei/kris colored!

also, there’s stars drawn on the walls in the dark world room, like the glow-in-the-dark stars around asriel’s bed in the normal room. it’s so many similarities you kind of wonder how... ralsei got all those details right

susie seems so surprised when she hears about and then actually sees her room :( like it’s something super new to her

also her rug is rude buster patterned lol

this Time For Adventure lineup. what a crew

ralsei’s angry face shkjshkjsh

in annoying mouse room 3, the one where noelle becomes immune to mice, she’s slowly spelling out ILOVEMOUSE as she jumps on buttons, which is a cute little detail

another spelling puzzle detail! when berdley is remembering the spelling bee, where noelle locked up and couldn’t speak and he won, the word she got frozen on is “DECEMBER.” i didn’t get a screenshot (kind of hard, considering the buttons are broken up over a very wide space) but when you’re walking alone with noelle, and she talks about how she kind of likes scary things and how she feels about the dark world while you both press buttons to lower forcefields for each other, the word she’s slowly spelling out is... DECEMBER. which i think represents that she feels comfortable here/with kris and is sort of getting over her anxiety? idk but it’s another cute detail

i know plenty of games have piano minigames but in my heart this is a reference to the piano secret puzzle from undertale. also what is it with kris and playing the piano lol

:(

this is a joke from chapter 1! right after you get assigned susie as a partner, when you’re sent to get chalk, if you talk to other kids in class temmie will tell you that suie is “very mean” and “said egg... never hatch!!” (because it’s hardboiled.) i guess susie was later like “...but will it?”

all the addisons will say variations of this if you go and talk to them after the spamton fight.

also hey shit how did i not notice before that spamton is like, obviously an addison (or used to be, at least)? general face structure + obsession with advertising and making sales. hhhuh

graffiti on the wall in the dog room

what

that looks like one of the trees from the first dark world, unless i’m mistaken?

huh

the head butler in queen’s mansion (can’t remember his name right now) mentions that people are very jealous of his stylish, monochrome look “with the colored glasses” and some people will “go so far as to impersonate [him] in order to get the...”

i’d bet anything he’s referring to spamton and the emptydisk/neo shell. like, look at them. 

once again, when you cut to susie’s pov for a section, ralsei and kris are talking about something when you come back. it’s almost the exact same dialogue as chapter 1′s jail sequence (”...so that’s why, okay, kris?”)

were they talking about the same thing?

ralsei stop procedurally looping your dialogue it’s gauche

this room is generated from search results so apparently noelle’s looking up fashion just to stare at it? i bet it’s something similar to how susie dresses/more “rebellious” and she either isn’t allowed to wear it bc her mother, or bc she’s too nervous

i believe this exact flavor text, or some variation of it, appears in jevil’s fight as well? the only other similarity these two have is that they’re shadow crystal bosses... so there’s something about shadow crystals, strong/hidden enemies, and “freedom.”

is that what kris is chasing here?

unfamiliar humans make kris nervious for some reason

i didn’t get a screenshot of it but susie never actually calls her parents at the end of the chapter... toriel tells her to after she agrees to stay over, and susie walks over to the phone until toriel leaves and then immediately nopes out of there and jumps on the couch to watch tv

aaaand that’s basically everything i’ve found! except for some dumb details i didn’t feel were interesting enough to include here. all in all... there are a Lot of seeds being planted here, gonna be fun to see what grows :0

[crazy-sevens]

Heyo, I wasn’t sure eid you took requests, but if you do could you do a part two to “An Excuse to make Christmas Jokes”

This was a long time coming but hope you like it!

Part one here

***

The hero had never felt more humiliated in their entire life. Not when their voice cracked at an eighth grade talent show. Not when they tripped into the punchbowl at prom. Not even when they had to dress up in a pink rabbit costume for Halloween at fifteen because their parents made them match with their little sister. At least there weren’t any witnesses to their embarrassment this time. 

The hero sat tied up in a red ribbon, gagged, and sitting under a Christmas tree. The flush in their face being almost the exact same shade of red as the ribbon. 

The villain had been gone for about ten minutes. And the hero knew that because there was a clock on the wall. Weird for what was basically a prison cell, but the room where they were sitting in was actually a really nice living room. 

Great. That made them feel so much better about this.

They looked up at the Christmas tree as the ornaments glinted in the light. Soon enough the villain would be back bringing whatever torture device that they called the hero’s Christmas present. The hero would have to be gone before then. Gone with what they had come here for. 

But no matter what they couldn’t think around this. The ribbon was tight, binging their arms and legs together so they could barely move. They couldn’t use their powers with the gag on their mouth and nobody around to use them on. And there were dozens of guards out there, so they wouldn’t even make it out, let alone with the device. 

The hero closed their eyes and leaned against the tree. The ornaments clattered together with a soft clink. They were made of glass. At least the villain had some taste.

Wait. Glass. 

The hero scooted themselves around and kicked the tree over. They winced at the sound of the ornaments shattering, but they couldn’t worry about the noise right then. They flexed their fingers and grabbed a shard from the wreckage. It was a little difficult but they managed to cut through the ribbon with the shard. They then tore the gag off. 

They felt in their sleeve and breathed a sigh of relief when they found it; the one thing the villain’s guards hadn’t taken from them- a hairpin. They picked the lock quickly.

They smirked. Sometimes they were so good it was frightening.

And on that note, they tripped on their way out. 

Nevermind. 

Before they could pick themselves up, a boot pressed against the small of their back. “What do we have here?”

The hero reached out with their power. “Hey get off of me!”

The boot’s pressure lessened, but that was about it. Of course it wouldn’t work that easily. “And why should I do that?”

“Um, because,” the hero scrambled for a convincing story, “because you’re unsatisfied with your boss and you want them to respect you more,” they blurted out. “I can help you.” They hoped they had struck the right cord. When trying to convince someone to do something, it helped to give them a good reason to. The power enhanced those feelings and moved the person to act. The hero could only hope that the guard was unsatisfied with his boss. How that fact might relate to letting the hero go, they weren’t sure. Maybe they would actually believe the hero could help.

Who knows? This wasn’t their best work anyway.  

But it actually seemed to be working. “Really?” the guard asked.

“Uh, yes,” the hero said. “Just let me up and we can talk all about your feelings and maybe try to start a union or something.”

The boot left their back. The hero stood up and brushed themselves off. Then they punched the guard square in the jaw. The guard fell over unconscious.

Then they dragged him back into the room, tied his hands and feet together with scraps of the ribbon, then they tied the gag around his mouth. They smirked. Now they were starting to feel better.

They walked over to the foyer, the sounds of music and chatter echoing through the door to their left. They could leave. Sneak out through a vent or something. But they couldn’t pass up this opportunity. The villain thought they were taken care of, so it would be perfect to find the device. 

They snuck through the house. 

No, house wasn’t really a good description. More like a mansion. Or a palace. It wasn’t very inconspicuous, but it was one of the most guarded places in the city so it didn’t really have to be. With that in mind, the hero knew they had to keep sharp, and they had to be patient. 

The latter being the most difficult. 

They regretted knocking out the guard. He could’ve given the hero a tour. But now they were just stuck checking every room. There was nothing for a while. 

Nothing until they found the villain’s office. 

It was pretty average in terms of officeness. No signs of villainy about it. No giant swirly chair to turn dramatically in, no assortment of stuffed creatures, no giant red button that opened a trap door for someone on the other side to drop through. 

It was disappointing to say the least. 

They searched all the drawers, checked for false backs or secret openings, but still nothing. But then they looked in the file cabinet. There were multiple files for people whose names the hero didn’t recognize, but at the front of them all was a file marked, Arch Nemesis.

Of course. 

They grabbed the file and tucked it under their arm. They couldn’t read it now. They only had so much time left before the party ended. If the device wasn’t in the next room they would cut their losses and leave.

But one thing they failed to notice: it was quiet. That wouldn’t be much of a problem normally, but when they had searched before they could still hear pieces of loud conversation and music through the hallways. There was none of that now. The party was already over. 

And the hero realized that too late. 

“Really you couldn’t wait ten minutes for me to come back? Admit it, you missed me.”

Before the hero could turn around, strong hands grabbed their arms, pinning them behind their back. The file dropped out of their hands.

The villain hummed into their ear. “Someone’s been looking into things they shouldn’t have.”

The hero tried to kick but the villain only responded by kicking the hero’s legs out from under them. They bracketed the hero’s hips with their own, and they kept the hero’s arms pinned above their head. 

“Get off of me.” The hero growled.

The villain rolled their eyes. “You really can’t get it into your head that your powers don’t work on me, can you?”

“What can I say? I’m stubborn,” the hero said. “And you’re a liar.”

The villain laughed. “You can hide it all you want, hero, but I know the curiosity is driving you crazy. A problem you could never solve.” 

The hero struggled, but the villain’s grip was like iron. “It’s not a problem. I can beat you without my powers.”

They could taste that lie in their mouth like bile. No they couldn’t. They could never beat the villain without backup and the villain knew it.

They shook their head. “You know I wasn’t going to tell you before I gave you the present, but I really think you’ve earned it.” They leaned in close. “I have the same powers as you do.”

The hero stopped struggling. “What?”

“I know! It was a little . . . frustrating at first, I can’t use my powers on you either, but you’ve been the most interesting hero yet.” Using one hand the villain pulled something out of their pocket. It looked like a dog collar. “I have learned that if you simply disable the other person’s powers, instead of cancelling out, your powers will finally work on them.” 

The hero’s heart stopped. That’s what the agency had sent them looking for. 

It had all been a setup.

The villain’s smile widened. “So, Merry Christmas. I know it’s early, but, hey, you’re worth it.”

“Keep that thing away from m-”

The hero’s voice died when the villain clipped the collar on.

[kanene-yaaay]

Go to Sleep

Kanene’s note: Gosh, having a schedule is weird. I just wanna post everything I already wrote and ramble non stop about it asdfgtyujkigfdo. XD

Well, this was suppose to be a drabble, but it’s very long so sdftyujikgfred. I hope you like it!

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belong to Thomas Sanders from the serie Sanders Sides.

* This is a SFW tickle fanfic. If you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another blog. There are a plenty of fabulous arts in this site!! ^w^)b

* This is Lee!Virgil with Ler!Roman. Around 1.500 words.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* Listen a bit to the birds today. Changing the way you think is not a bad thing. Drink water, sleep, eat and love!

[~*~]

Roman growled, missing by a few inches the button of his thunderous, infuriating alarm before finally hitting it. Staring and blinking lazily at the numbers his brain struggled to discern and recognize, only to confirm it was really time to wake up and start the day. He grabbed his pillow and squeezed it with all the strength he could muster, rolling from one side to other on the mattress, trying to wake up his body as quick as his mind and almost falling from the bed a reasonable number of times during the process.

 He got up, yawing, stretching and humming as the first lyrics of the day stuck on his head, hand rubbing at his eyes as he followed the kitchen’s direction with slow steps and tired sways on the beat of the song.

 Two dark, wide eyes stared right back at him, their owner completely frozen on the spot with his hand inside the cabinet, probably already holding some sort of a snack. Roman also stopped mid-step, gears running inside his mind, gaze locked on the other, his brow progressively furrowing.

“Virgil,” he began, voice slightly hoarse “What the heckty heck are you doing up? It’s barely seven in the morning!” Virgil only stared back, slowly closing the cabinet’s door, as if afraid the movement would startle the other. Roman proceeded to get some eggs and other cold ingredients from the refrigerator for the breakfast, his words growing more awake and vivid as they spilled with no filter or whatsoever from his lips. “You got an early shift again or something? Those are absolutely hellish. A bunch of people exhausted, tired and glaring at you as if you are the holder of all their problems and their solutions can only be achieved by being insufferable pieces of- Urg. I can’t believe they would give you one right after you got the night one. Damn, I didn’t even see you arriving here yesterday!”

 He turned his attention back at the other, looking for a kind of frustration in the place of the still startled, wide gaze which continued to be directed at him. Virgil nodded slowly, stepping away and putting some physical distance between him and the confusion on Roman’s features.

 Then, between the strings of sleepiness that clouded his brain, it clicked.

 Suddenly more details on the other’s behavior started to become clearer: the way Virgil’s hair was messier than his usual ““style”” (Roman scoffed mentally, thinking that if he rolled his eyes any harder they would never come back to his normal place again), his wary, yes, but way too much slow movements, the way he seemed to be unable to stop blinking at every millisecond and, above it all, the final piece of the puzzle.

 Virgil wasn’t wearing his pajamas.

 “YOU DIDN’T!” Roman gasped, as if Virgil’s life choices were a personal attack. “YOU DIDN’T GET ANY SLEEP LAST NIGHT!!” A turn of heels and he was again fixating his glare on the other, his free hand accusingly pointing in his direction, receiving an annoyed hiss as immediate answer.

 “Shut up!” Virgil snarled, practically growling back at him. “It’s fucking seven am don’t be so freaking loud.”

 “Don’t change the subject! Why didn’t you go to sleep?”

 The one being questioned just snorted, half amused. “Bold of you to assume I’d ever sleep in my whole life.”

 “That is it.” Virgil didn’t even have the time to wonder the meaning of his friend’s sentence before the aforementioned picked him up, resulting to a not very contained shriek escaping from his lips and his hands not much gracefully – or gently, although since they were keen on just jumping on each other out of nowhere to play fight Princey would be fine - meeting his friend’s face.

 “Roman! What the he-”

 “Did you just SLAP me? My beautiful face?! Before my own beautiful eyes??” Virgil Storm always got, even if he would never admit this out loud, surprised with Roman’s capacity of doing a series of offended incoherent noises which evolved to words before being carefully metamorphosed in weird noises all over again, and in the end still managing to form comprehensible sentences. His surprise did nothing to quell the grumpy snark immediately flying from lips, though.

 “And I’m going to do it again if you don’t let me go in this exact instant.”

 “You go and try to help and that is the acknowledgement you get,” The one wearing pajamas with little crows printed on it huffed, mumbling in a lower tone as he noticed the sharp gaze being thrown in his direction. “fucking unbelievable.”

 “I still can hear you, Princey. You’re literally carrying me.”

 “I sTiLL cAn HeAr yOu-OW! Ow! Ow!” The sentence was interrupted when the sleep deprived one punched Roman’s shoulder. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

 “Let me fucking gAAH!” In a way his wish was granted, one could say as they watched his protest being cut as Storm was impolitely tossed on his bed, Roman quickly following his friend on the mattress, arms hugging him from behind, and physically preventing him from escaping his current soft predicament. “Prince, you’re dead.”

 “Shhh, no talking. We’re sleeping.”

 “We are not. You are being a pain in ass and I am about to defenestrate you.” Despite his fervent protests, his sharp, flaming glare began to lose its heat, his body not doing any actual effort to free himself from the other’s – strong, good - grip, muscles starting to relax against the great warmth involving him in a comfortable and secure blanket.

 “Sure, sure, mister Grumpy Pants, you can do that when you wake up.” He tightened a bit his hold around Virgil, yet being the most careful as possible, actively ignoring the annoyed hiss his friend gave him. His hoodie was really fluffy at the touch, slightly remembering his stuffed animals he frequently hugged to sleep.

 For a moment, everything was pleasantly quiet. The one with smudged makeup, since he hadn’t time to get it off before being trapped by his roommate and best friend, felt the tiredness becoming sleepiness as the seconds went by.

 …That was until an electric sensation shot across his spine, leading him to almost jump in the same place 

 “S-stop nuzzling me!”

 “Hm? Oh sorry.” Virgil pressed his lips tightly closed, preventing the wobbly giggles to escape as Roman speaks, not realizing how close his mouth was from the base of his neck, every breath sending tickly shocks across every nerve. “You’re just too much sooooft.”

 Roman opened an eye when realized that no snark remark from the other followed his words, the figure in his arms shaking too much to be asleep. A frown painted his feature as he readjusted the position of his hands, trying to get a bit more of balance to look at Virgil’s face when suddenly a high-pitched yelp escaped, cutting the air and immediately catching their attention.

 “Did you just squeal?” He questioned as his glare assumed a playful shine seeing a blush spread on his now frozen friend.

 “It was NOT a squeal! It was a yelp.” Virgil’s words came so fast that they almost tripped on themselves. Roman snorted, a smile taking over his face. “Get off me!” and, in the moment the one wearing a hoodie tried to pry his hand from the spot on his right side where it was resting, the pieces finally clicked in the right place and his smile quickly submerged, giving space to a smirk.

 ‘No WAY Doctor Doom and Gloom is ticklish!’

 However, the red lover only blinked as the true personification of innocence and naiveness, his hand firm in its place, fingers starting to slowly move, light pokes being delivered on the sensitive skin. “But why that, Knight Mare? It’s cold and all I could ever want is just to hug my bestest friend!”

 “You already hugged me, now go aWAY!” His voice trembled in the last second, the exact moment his thumb experimentally scratched the spot right under the lowest ribs, leading a surprised squeak to leave Virgil’s mouth.

 They both stared at each other, gleaming, filling their wide eyes.

 “No.” Virgil said, trying to squirm away but finding himself stuck between Prince and the wall. Roman didn’t even attempt to hide his smug grin, anymore. This was going to be so much fun

 “Don’t you dare! Don’t you freaking dare!!” His friend only laid down again, now carefully, yet firmly, pulling him one more time against his chest, growling playfully. Years and years fighting for the Tickle Monster title on his family, battles and battles against Remus only sharpening his skills, which showed by the way his fingers seemed to find every single weak spot on Virgil’s skin, wiggles, scribbles, pokes and scratching exploring everywhere. “No! Nononono! You fucker, you moron, you bitch, you-” A few chuckles cut his curses as he one wearing pajamas squeezed his side a couple of times, the tip of his fingers also teasing his ticklish stomach. “Roman!!”

 “No, no, my so dear, so ticklish, friend. Roman is no longer here, this is…” He paused for a dramatic effect, basically beaming at the giggly giggles and wiggly wiggles from the other. He shoved his face on his neck, the next words vibrating almost as bad as the spidering on his ribs. “The Tickle Monster!!”

[marsofaries]

The Itsy Bitsy Spider {Katsuki Bakugou x Reader}

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Cursing, Blood, Assault

Summary: Your grumpy (and ridiculously attractive) neighbor helps you rid of the spider in your new apartment. Things grow from there.

Notes: fem!Reader, ProHero!Bakugou, Bakugou hates feelings

That’s it. You were moving out.

So what, that you just managed to unpack the last box in your new apartment? One look at that eight-legged... creature, and it was their apartment now. You weren’t trying to be dramatic, but spiders were the absolute bane of your existence.

This led to you shakily standing over the said arachnid, a large All Might mug trembling faintly in your hands. 

“Oh shit, oh fuck-- FUCK!” You shrieked as the spider took a quick dart to its left. Nope. No way.

It had taken about an hour before the spider was successfully captive. Another hour to finally figure out what to do next. 

And now there you were, pacing back and forth in front of your neighbor’s front door, mumbling failed greetings to yourself like a desperate prayer.

“Hi, I’m-- that’s not right. How about ‘I just moved in and--.’ God, I sound like an idiot.” Gathering all of your courage, you rapped three quick knocks on the front of the wood. The urge to bolt was suddenly very powerful.

“I swear to God, Shitty Hair, if you-- Oh.” The door was suddenly swung open to reveal the most gorgeous person you had ever seen in your whole life. With biceps the size of your head, the man completely dwarfed you in size. He almost took up the entire space of the door, his spikey blond locks brushing the top the frame. Vermillion eyes stared at you cautiously as you forgot everything you were about to say. “The fuck you want?”

As you made no move to answer, the Greek god of a man pulled his lips into a scowl. 

“What are you, a fucking stalker or somethin’?”

That definitely brought you out of your reverence.

“W-What? No!”

A scoff left the man’s lips, and you suddenly wanted nothing more that to kick him straight in the jewels. However, you were on a mission. A mission to rid a tiny eight-eyed demon from your living room.

“There was a, uh...spider.” You slowly trailed off, waving weakly in the direction of your apartment across the hall.

 “A spider? Really?” The blond questioned condescendingly, rolling his stupidly-perfect crimson eyes.

A light flush brushed your cheeks in embarrassment as you stared down at your shoes. You were sure he was going to slam the door right in your face. But he didn’t.

The man brushed right past you, marching right though your open door-- making sure to loudly mumble as many complaints as he could. You stumbled after the tall blond, failing to keep up with his abnormally long strides.

You watched in silence as he crouched by the downturned mug, raising a single perfectly-sculpted brow. However, your silence was quickly turned into a squeak of horror when your neighbor dumped the spider into his bare-hand. 

For a moment of absolute terror, you thought the stranger was going to throw it at you.

Wide-eyed, you watched as he pushed open the nearest window and placed the spider on the railing of your fire-escape. Having pushed the window back down, the man turned back to leave your apartment. As he walked past, he shoved the now (thankfully) empty mug to your chest.

“W-wait!”

He paused, sliding his crimson gaze to yours.

“M-My name is (Y/L/N)… (Y/L/N) (Y/N).”

You weren’t quite sure why you felt the need to give him your name. Maybe it was because he helped you when you were absolutely sure he wouldn’t. Or maybe how he decided to let the bug free instead of kill it. Maybe it was the amused huff he let out when he heard your terrified squeak. Perhaps it was all three. You didn’t know.

His striking red eyes suddenly raked your frame before a smirk settled confidently on his all-too-attractive lips.

“Bakugou Katsuki.”

~~~

“HOLD THE FUCKING DOOR!” 

You let out a squeak at the sudden yell, sticking the toe of your nude-colored pumps between the sliding elevator doors. A muscled arm wedged itself between the doors, pulling them back open.

“You.” You breathed as none other than your extremely hot neighbor was revealed. The blond was clad in a loose black V-neck and sweatpants-- a large duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. His hair was slightly damp, as small beads of water dropped off the edge of his spikes every couple of seconds.

“Stalker.” He acknowledged with a grunt. The corner of Bakugou’s lips shot up at your protests.

The ride down to the lobby was relatively silent and slightly awkward. You kept switching your weight on both legs as you struggled to find something to say.

“The fuck you dressed so fancy for?” The explosive blond finally said. You couldn’t help but let out a breath of relief at the break in silence.

“I got a new job at All Might Bank!” You were pretty excited, as it was your first day. The bank itself was pretty fancy, and you were cheery that it was named after the old symbol of peace. All Might had been your favorite hero growing up but you grew out of your hero phase as you had gotten older. Nowadays you couldn’t tell one hero from the other.

You turned to Bakugou with a smile, content that he even cared about your life. It was quite a surprise when compared with the vibes he gave off.

“What about you?” You asked cheerily. 

“... Agency.” He grunted.

“Oh! Are you a model or something?” You knew it! There was no way that a man as attractive as Bakugou Katsuki was not the cover of every magazine. He was, just not for the reasons you thought. You watched in confusion as the explosive blond emitted a loud snort.

“Or something...”

DING!

You were almost sad as the elevator dinged, signaling the end of the ride. Although it was short, and mostly awkward, you found yourself enjoying his company. You walked side by side until you reached the doors to outside, pausing slightly when he went to part.

“Thank you.”

Bakugou froze at your expressed gratitude, studying your figure with renewed interest.

“You know... for the spider?” You seemed to lose all cognitive brain function when he looked at you with those frustratingly gorgeous vermillion eyes. Bakugou scoffed and turned away, muttering a quiet response. Little did you know that he was trying to hide a light blush.

“Whatever...”

~~~

You were happy to say that these shared elevator rides became a daily ritual, to the point where Bakugou started to bring you his delicious leftovers for your lunch (he made the meals especially for you, but would die before he ever admitted that). Before you knew it, you were quite smitten with the blond.

You couldn’t help but replay this morning’s occurrence in your head as you filed checking account after checking account.

 “Good morning, Bakugou-kun!” You called as you exited your apartment. You didn’t even have to look anymore. Bakugou had a habit of waiting for you outside your door to give you his most current dish. 

“Morning.” He grunted in response, hating the way his heart skipped a beat.

His eyes scanned over your form, (longer than considered friendly) as he checked your outfit. Bakugou always seemed to have some sort of fashion-ready advice on the tip of his tongue, and with you still thinking he was a model-- you were more that happy to comply. And also for the fact that he really did have a good eye for it.

“Undo the top two buttons… you look like a nerd.”

Your eyes quickly flashed to your white button-up, pulling at the two buttons with one hand.

“Better?”

Bakugou only grunted in approval. He was trying to act like he wasn’t on the verge of kissing the ever-lasting life out of you.

~~~

“Hey, Newbie! Get me a coffee, will ya?” You were quickly pulled out of your daydream by one of your (slightly arrogant) bosses.

“Of course, sir.” You answered as you hurried to the other side of the bank. You’ve been at your new job (and apartment) for about a month, and they still won’t let up on the whole “newbie” stuff. 

You sighed as you waited by the coffee maker, situated right to the left of the big glass entrance. Oh, how you would have loved to pour that coffee right over your boss’ head. Too lost in your own head, you failed to notice the suspicious group of men heading straight for the vault until one of them grabbed your arm.

“What the fu--”

“EVERYBODY DOWN OR SHE DIES!” 

Oh shit! Oh fuck! Your mind was reeling at a million miles per hour. The man had pulled you to where your back was to his front, and had a blade pressed against your throat. It seemed to come out of the inside of his wrist, being a relatively deadly quirk if handled correctly.

Everyone within the pristine building froze but quickly dropped to the floor after some warning shots from one of the robbers. Another suddenly morphed into some sort of beast and marched to the steel vault door.

You suddenly wished that you had a more physical quirk, cursing it for being so useless in this situation. Yeah, you knew basic self-defense, but it would be futile with three other villains in your midst.

Minutes felt like hours, and you could only hope that someone had alerted the police and nearby heroes. You winced as the blade dug into the delicate skin of your throat.

A sudden explosion burst through the skylight of the building, raining glass shards on the hostages. All at once, people were screaming, running, and blast after blast started ringing in your ears. You let out a sigh of relief.

The heroes were here.

Using the distraction, you quickly gripped the man’s arm tight below the base of the blade. You pulled it away from your neck ever so slightly, ducking your head to pull yourself through the gateway you had created. Keeping your hands locked at the base of the robber’s wrist, you twisted his arm and shoved up-- forcing it to pop from its socket.

A sudden bump to your shoulder from a running hostage caused you to slip up on your little self-defense sequence, allowing the man to break from your grip. He whipped around to face you, holding his dislocated arm. You panicked, so... you socked him in the face.

He let out an enraged cry, thick blood gushing from his nose. You were a bit surprised with how easy it was to land a hit on him. You thought that villains would have been more prepared before robbing a bank named after All Might.

Oh, well.

You punched him again in the nose for good measure, and he was out like a light. His hot red blood coated your knuckles, and you gagged in disgust. Ew. You wiped the back of your dominant hand on you button-up absentmindedly, before being shoved to the floor by your panicking boss. Wow. Your limbs felt like mush now that the adrenaline was wearing off, and you suddenly couldn’t find the strength to pick yourself off of the floor.

A final explosion went off, followed by the most desperate and wretched call you had ever heard in your entire life. And the call... sounded suspiciously like your name.

Your eyes shot up at the scream, searching frantically for the owner of that voice. You knew that voice, you only ever heard it in grunts and light-hearted mocking sentences, but you knew that voice.

“Katsuki.” You breathed, eyes suddenly locked on familiar crimson irises. 

Relief flooded his features as he saw you, and was at your side in seconds-- dropping quickly to his knees. 

“Oh my god.” Bakugou breathed, grabbing your head and cradling it tight to his chest and-- what the fuck was he wearing? Wait, there was no way... he was the explosion hero you saw on the news! Holy fuck!

“You scared the shit out of me! Do you know how terrified I was when I heard there was trouble at your work?! And you didn’t answer your goddamn phone? Jesus Christ, (Y/N).” Worried rambles fell rapidly out of Bakugou’s lips, seemingly void of any filter. You would have been ecstatic by his cute little worrying if your mind wasn’t reeling by the fact that your crush neighbor was one of the top ten heroes in Japan.

He suddenly grasped both sides of your face and pulled back so you were eye to eye.

“Are you hurt? I swear to God, if someone hurt you-- I’ll fucking kill them.” Bakugou’s eyes were frantically scanning your face, looking for any sign of injury.

“...Katsuki?” You mumbled softly, and he immediately froze. He felt his heart lurch in his throat as his name tumbled from your lips. You, on the other hand, were completely, and utterly lost. “You’re a pro-hero?”

“....What?” Bakugou questioned dumbly. “You could have been seriously hurt and that’s the first thing you think about?”

“What? I thought you were a model.” You whined, lightly smacking his chest.

At this, Bakugou let out a loud laugh, and you just watched in awe. You had never seen him laugh before. Even though half his face was smeared in black makeup and little injuries littered his skin-- it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen in your life. He pulled back to look at you, but suddenly froze.

“You’re hurt! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!” Bakugou shouted, spotting bright red stains on the front of your blouse. You quickly grabbed his hand, hoping to soothe his panicking.

“Hey, hey!” You yelped, gaining his attention. “It’s not mine.” 

You gestured over to the villain knocked out next to you.

“Holy shit.” Katsuki breathed, before turning his vermillion gaze back to yours. A quiet, amused huff escaped his lips. “So you’re afraid of a spider, but can knock out a villain?” He questioned teasingly.

A light blush covered your cheeks, causing you to force your eyes down. You suddenly noticed just how close you two were. You were situated about half way onto Bakugou’s lap, as one of his large hands softly held your waist. The other was still trapped between your own. This caused your blush to only darken.

“Hey, eyes up here.” Bakugou muttered, lifting his hand from your waist and to the base of your chin. You force your eyes back up to his, but couldn’t help but sneak a quick glance to his lips. However, Bakugou saw it, and that was all it took.

Bakugou crashed his lips onto yours, and you were quick to respond. You tangled your hands within his soft blond locks, allowing him to completely dominate the kiss. His hands held you tightly to his body, refusing to give even an inch of space between you two. He didn’t let go even as you pulled back for air, his lips chasing after yours.

Time seemed to stop while he was kissing you, and every one was distressed with the thought of losing you. It was soft and sweet, and then rough and desperate-- the sweet smell of caramel, of Bakugou, invading all of your senses. 

You finally broke for air, breaths mingling shamelessly. Bakugou rested his forehead on yours, wanting nothing more than to never let you go.

“I’m so glad I found you, Stalker.”

Bonus:

A low whistle dragged out across bank, turning the couples’ gazes over to a certain hardening hero.

“SHITTY HAIR, I SWEAR TO--”

The End.

Notes:  This was my first imagine! I hope you guys liked it!

The police watching the final scene like: 👁👄👁 can we go home?

[bloomyagi]

bewitched (m)

summary: bakugou has always loved you.

pairings: bakugou katsuki x f!reader, hawks x f!reader (nsfw)

genre: characters are aged up, 20+, pro heroes au

warnings: allusions to cheating, angst, porn w/ lots of feelings, shower sex, kinda subby bakugou, he’s basically lovesick n soft for u, keigo is a good birdie, he would never do this irl

length: 3,518

notes: hello! my first bnha fic, please be kind <3 please let me know what you think! i’ve been so obsessed w/ jjk & bnha recently skdjkjf. send help 

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.

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It comes down softly at first. The droplets whispering against windshields, ghosting across bare arms, a trick of the light. Then a pause, like the darkening clouds are reconsidering their decisions. There is no wind, no anger in the way it pelts down, darkens the concrete. Like resignation, like relief. It soaks bone, sends most civilians packing as they duck under awnings and flee into shops in anticipation of a short-lived flare.

But it is summer, and the rain is welcome as a remedy against the oppressive heat. Many onlookers merely move their belongings closer to avoid the stream, gaze out glass windows longingly. Some find inspiration, others find peace.

You stand in the middle of it all, drenched and unmoving as you watch your lover wrap his arms around his secretary, and you wonder whose mood this pathetic fallacy is expected to reflect as you look across to meet familiar eyes.

He, too, mirrors your stance. Clothes sodden, yet the nature of its designs only lends to plaster themselves closer to his skin. His irises are that bright, burning red. He is not fizzling, heated against the affair before him. Instead, his gaze is trained on you.

There is no fury, no sadness, no emptiness. His gaze is not hollow, it is instead strangely warm. Your chest squeezes, tightening in the way you experience when you read a novel laced in tragedy, that welling feeling of anguish and sorrow.

His hands are shoved in his pockets, and though his eyes remain fastened to you, he makes no step to move closer.

The sky lightens, a thin streak of sun peering through in a solitary beam. The sounds seem to press close again, like a bubble popping in your ear.

The summer storm is tempered as quickly as it appeared, the sound of life—laughter, the splashing of sneakers drowning in newly formed puddles—and the lingering smell of renewed earth and the chirping of birds as they shake off their wings to take flight.

Water drips silently down the pair of gorgeous wings before you. They flutter briefly, flicking off the thin layer that pooled on its surface, before unfurling to fold over her. He pulls her closer, separating only every so often to breathe.

Shameless, is all you think plainly. And you are—ashamed. That feeling catches you by surprise, breath caught in your throat as the feeling expands, takes root in your lungs. It is that hindsight, that disappointment—at yourself—that has you lowering your eyes.

He is still looking at you, even as someone squeals and a crowd gathers, pushing and shoving to press close, stays rooted to his spot, watching you, even as the couple finally break apart, dishevelled—she adjusts her pencil skirt, re-buttons her blouse; he runs a hand through his golden locks, fixes his half-open shirt—and Hawks’ chuckle rings across the street, one arm braced around her waist as he signs autographs and takes photos. She is glowing beside him, all smiles and shrill laughter. Her nails, perfectly manicured and sharp, digs into his chest. He doesn’t even flinch. He likes it.

You stifle a dry laugh. Turning on your heel, you disappear into the thickening crowd.

He himself is being pawed at, hands fawning at his exposed arms, clutching at him like he is fresh off the conveyer belt.

He waits until he can no longer discern your retreating figure before bearing a half-smile at the crowd. He takes the pen that is shoved into his face, and he begins signing autographs.

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Time and experience have tempered his constitution. He has accepted his flaws, worked on them until he could proudly stand on the same stage as his—friends. Because that is what they are—these people that have helped him grow, comforted his trauma, stayed with him despite it all. What else could he call them but the very things they are—they are the pillar of his strength. Because of you, I learned I could be strong for the things I care about.

He is not number one. He has no need for such a title, no need for such a goal anymore. He is no longer the brash, easily angered teenager that charged for the strongest.

“I don’t care what they call me, what rank I am, or what they think of me. I only want the power to protect these people. That’s it.” He thinks back to your words.

You are not often solemn. You laughed a lot, the slow-appearing crinkles to the corner of your eyes a physical testament to your innate joy. You liked to take delight in the ordinary things. Perhaps that is what drew him to you—that strength. To shoulder the burden of your chosen role in this society, to have the bravery to smile amongst the suffering.

There was always an unbidden heat that surged in his chest when he thought of you. That odd feeling of a knot tying itself in his stomach when his skin brushed yours. When you fell from the height of a skyscraper, half-conscious from defeating a new breed of nomu, his heart stuttered and leapt in halting beats to throat as he split from his team, their screams for you ringing in his ears, the rush of badump-badump closing in rapidly, pushing his beaten body to its limits, faster, faster, faster—please! Who was he praying to at the time? He was begging anyone who was listening to give him that push—the gap was too big, you were too far, he was too tired, too useless, too broken—he slammed into you with enough force to compel blood up his throat.

He spat it to the side quickly, not bothering to wipe himself clean before he turned to you. The first thing he registered was warmth. You were limp in his hold, on the edge of passing out, exhaustion lining every curve of your face. Your lips quirked, eyes closed.

“Hurts like hell,” you slurred. “Falling from heaven.”

He stared at you, blinking the blood from his lashes.

And then he threw his back and laughed. It was a full-bodied, uproarish laughter. The type that rumbled from his chest. He shook, though he was careful not to jostle you, and you managed a quiet chuckle.

The adrenaline faded from his body, and he hiccupped as he slumped onto the concrete beam behind him. The ice receded from his veins.

“Don’t scare me like that again,” he murmured. It was a quiet plea. Don’t do that ever again, is what he really wanted to say, but how could he? This was the occupational hazard of your shared line of work. This was the risk. His eyes burned, half-lidded as he held you closer.

You couldn’t lift a single limb on your body, so you lean into him.

“No promises.”

It was enough. Your voice was raspy, drained, but there was a sincere lilt to it.

He wanted to say something more, then, but first responders arrived and whisked you separate ways before he could gather his thoughts.

He regrets it, to this day. Perhaps if he had said something then, said something sooner, the scene would have played out differently.

He does not have many regrets, have long resolved to move on from his past and mistakes. “What a useless emotion,” you once told him. “Don’t wallow. Mourn and move on. Do better. That’s what you owe. That is what you are owed.”

But this—this he will always regret.

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He finds you on the roof of your penthouse.

“I like it. Being able to see everything from up here.” The first time he’d peered over the edge, he’d been enlisted for furniture rearranging. You handed him a beer, beckoning him over, jerking your head to the scenery below. And it was—breathtaking. You were breathtaking. He hadn’t even bothered to entertain a cursory glance. It was summer then, too, and the evening breeze was light as it brushed your locks back. Lights began to flicker as the sun dipped lower into the horizon. He briefly considered making a similar move.

But moving was a hassle, only further proven by the efforts of today, so he dismissed the thought quickly, taking another swig. He was sweaty, a layer of grime a film over his skin from the manual labour he’d been voluntold for most of the afternoon. It was petty work compared to his—their—day job, but it was still a strangely refreshing workout.

“What are you feeling?” His steps are muted, voice faint. It carries on the back of a shallow gust.

You don’t spare him a look, staring into the distance. You’re sitting, one leg thrown casually over the ledge, the other pulled to your stomach. He’d made an off-hand comment once about adding some railings, but you’d rolled your eyes and pushed him playfully.

Pussy, you called. He chuckled. Like we don’t experience enough life-threatening dangers on a regular basis, he snarked.

All the more reason, then, you shot back. He fell silent then, the pulsing in his throat returning.

He could never really read you. Eyes are the window to the soul. He scoffs internally. Whoever said that must’ve known it was a load of bullshit. Your eyes never said anything. But his—his said everything he couldn’t, and more.

You hum. “Would it be cliché if I said I wasn’t surprised, only disappointed?”

“No.”

“Then I’m disappointed. I had hoped, I suppose, that he would choose differently.”

He tastes the words that I would be enough between, and the sigh of to change him that escapes your lips.

“You knew who he was when you went into this,” he says quietly. No judgement—he is not reminding you of your poor decisions, rather striking a conversation in the same manner one would inquire about the weather.

Quant, you think. And a few years ago, you would have added out of character. But now it is not so—he has grown into himself well.

You tilt your head back. He leans against the wall, arms crossed across that well-built chest of his, shirt straining against the muscle. He’s so tall now—so much taller than anyone had expected him to be. That wild, unruly blond hair of his has remained the same, appearing spiky but soft to the touch. And his eyes—they are gentle but retain the ferocity he is well-known for.

“Yes,” you say after a while. “That is why I am not surprised. But these feelings won’t just disappear overnight because of this.”

He’s quiet for a while, those crimson orbs of his trailing over your expression. You don’t know what he finds, but he must understand your position because he nods.

“I’ll wait for you.”

This—this is a surprise. Somehow, he always manages to surprise you.

“After all this time?” You ask softly.

“Always,” he says quietly.

He leaves, and when you return to the house, you pick up the keys he left on your counter. Twirling them on one finger, you smile to yourself.

Thank you. You know he knows.

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“I tried to be the person you wanted me to be,” he says.

“I tried, I really did. But this is who I am, who they made me. I can’t change. I’m sorry,” he says.

He says a lot more, you think, but you’ve long since stopped listening. He knows these are only flimsy barriers that excuse his behaviour. He knows he is not this person. He is not broken, he is worthy of much, much more. He just needs to believe it. They took everything from him. That is what he thinks, how he lives. Like he has no real purpose.

Instead, he is stopped, wings flaring as you reach for him. You smell familiar, and that ache in his heart deepens. He will forever regret losing you, but you deserve more. He is not good for you, and he is not your responsibility. His growth is his obligation. Perhaps, when he is ready, he will find you again.

But by then, he thinks, burying his face into your shoulder, you will have already chosen differently.

“I love you, baby bird. I will always love you,” he presses these words against your neck in a soft whisper, voice cracking, like a prayer, he tries to sear his truth into your skin. He tastes salt on his tongue.

And, between it all, he traces I’m sorry.

You squeeze him once.

You know.

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“Hey.”

You’re uncharacteristically shy, cheeks puffing in that sweet smile of yours.

That sharp, familiar warmth blooms in his chest at the sight of you perched on the arm of his leather couch. You look comfortable, relaxed, like you—belonged here, his mind supplies helpfully.

He steps out of his boots, unbuckling his support items and setting them on the counter to clean later. He’s a little worse for wear tonight, shoulders tight from chasing rogue villains the past few hours. The tension seeps away steadily, though, the longer he drinks you in.

You look good. You always look good. Gorgeous, even more so when you’re tired and dirty, covered in blood and dust and debris. It’s been so long since you patrolled together, pulled to opposite ends of the city the past few months.

“Hey,” he says back.

“Shower?” You take his hand.

He trails behind you, nearly tripping over in his haste to follow, failing to register your words in time. This must be a dream, he decides. And he will play along, as he always does in these fits of delirium. He will hold you and have you and love you in ways he cannot begin to describe, and then he will lose you as dawn breaks and he wakes to an empty bed. But he falls anyway, does it over and over until he feels like he will go insane from the sheer longing. He is addicted to you.

You haven’t spoken, not really, since that night on the rooftop. So you, being here, without any prior warning, touching him, smiling at him, leading him to his fucking shower—this must be a dream, right?

You push open the door to his bathroom. It’s big, he’s always been meticulous about his health, and enjoys his fair share of long soaks and hot showers.

He realizes a beat too late that you’re undressing him. He exhales sharply when you tug his shirt off, but before he could say anything, you murmur, “You smell like caramel. You always do. It’s just a little stronger than usual.”

“Oh.” He sounds a little breathless, a little strangled. Unlike him, but he has never really been anything but himself with you. He’s still discovering new sides to himself, it seems.

Oddly enough, he’s the farthest thing from embarrassed as he steps out of his pants and boxers. He’s flushed, but the heat that floods his veins is nothing short of delicious. It makes his head spin, makes him lean into your touch.

You strip quickly, tossing your costume fabric aside his for laundry. He sucks in an audible breath at the sight of your nude body. Beautiful, he wants to say, but the words are stuck in his throat, and he reaches out with a shaky hand to thumb the smear of grease on your cheek.

You smile, pushing open the frosted glass doors and pull him inside.

The temperature is perfect. He likes it hot on days like today, muscles relaxing as the water washes away his fatigue.

“You know me so well,” he says.

You push him under the stream, water cascading between the two of you. His locks flatten under the pressure, falling over his eyes. You run a hand through his hair, pushing it back as you press yourself flush against him.

“Yes,” you answer. “I do.”

And then you kiss him. A low purring echoes through the space. Ah, it’s me, some part of him thinks absently. He opens his mouth instantly, tongue lapping at yours, arms coming around to hold you close. He can distinctly feel the way your perked nipples rub against his pectorals. He can taste you. And you are sweet, so sweet and the lewd sounds of your make out reverberating in the room so vividly he knows this is not, in fact, a mere conjuration of imagination after all.

He loathes to part from you, but he does. His fingers dig into your waist, anchoring him to reality. He looks at you searchingly, beseechingly. If you are here, you can only be here for one reason.

“I’m sorry I took so long. I’m sorry, I know it must’ve been painful. I’m here now, I promise I’ll never leave again,” you say, cupping his cheek.

His breath catches. His eyes flutter shut.

“You promise?” He sounds so small, so weak. Vulnerable. He would’ve hated that, once, but he is no longer that person. Today, he can accept he is weak for you. Always has been. And that’s okay, he thinks. He doesn’t have to be strong all the time.

“Yes. I promise, Katsuki.” You press your forehead against him, standing on your tippy toes.

He kisses you again, swallows your dreamy sigh, one hand on the back of your head, the other crushing your body against his. He wants you close, needs you close. Needs to feel you, this is real, right?

“Yes,” you whisper, and he realizes belatedly that he spoke aloud. “This is real. I’m here. I’m right in front of you.” You take his hand and press it against your upper rib cage, where your heart beats. Fast, like the wings of a hummingbird.

He can’t help it. He takes you against the wall, so pent up from years of pining he can hardly think, rutting into you like a teenager in heat, feeling like he’s a virgin again, every trace of your skin so new, he maps them out first with his eyes, then his hands and mouth. He slows down when you call his name in a haze of pleasure, takes the time to worship you, find what makes you tick, watches your expression raptly as he rolls his hips, as he tweaks your nipples, palms your ass, litters a necklace of freshly bloomed violets on your collarbone.

He’s panting your name, you’re murmuring praises in his ear, tugging at his locks and biting down on his shoulder and he cums so hard his vision whitens.

The two of you slide down, his legs giving out in the aftershocks, until he’s sitting on the floor of his shower and you’re curled up on his lap.

The water is—miraculously—still hot.

You lay there for a while, and he catches his breath between lazy kisses, enjoying the way your hands roam his chest languidly.

Finally, he stands, letting you down reluctantly to actually clean yourselves. You giggle at the pout that forms when your feet touch the ground once more.

You wash his hair, massaging methodically as he dips his head back to let the foam drain. He takes great pleasure in this, at the way you spread a generous amount of body wash on your palms and begin scrubbing the grime from his skin.

He jolts forward, letting out a low groan as you squeeze his flaccid cock teasingly. He glances away, eyes half-lidded, at the heated look you give him when his cock hardens immediately.

“You underestimate how easily you turn me on,” he says plainly. Not a hint of embarrassment. And why should he be? You kiss the corner of his mouth. “I love it,” you murmur.

You rinse him off before turning. His length presses against your ass, but he makes no move to seek anything further, focused on washing you.

Satisfied, he turns off the water.

You step out, toweling each other off. He pulls you to him, inhaling deeply. He likes that you smell like him now.

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Afterwards, you are tucked in close, covers pulled up and he’s buried his face in your chest, bare legs tangled.

Perhaps it’s the novelty, the feeling of finally, but you can’t get enough of one another. You wake each other multiple times throughout the night, clawing at each other, ripping his boxers and your—his—shirt from each other until you were pressed tightly together, bare, a thin sheen of sweet already coating your bodies.

A thin strip of moonlight peeks through the cream curtains. He gazes up at you, thinks everything in his life has been leading up to this moment. That warmth swelling again, as it always does, so intense it has him arching his back. You touch his cheek, smiling. Something lands on the side of his pillow. Ah. You lean down, lips warm as they kiss away his tears.

“I love you, Katsuki.”

He closes his eyes.

Thank you.