#today my crush was wearing their hair in a half bun and they looked so stupidly good😫

[emmenai-kalliston]

.

[winternet-s]

𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃 𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁 - g.satoru

summary : in which [name] is the cupid of her after helping tons of students with their relationships or crushes, satoru included - but who could fool cupid in terms of romance ?

genre : fluff - comedy.

wc : 1.97k

notes :fem!reader - not proofread - inspired by that cupid girlie from monster high - more comedic than fluff but still have cute moments.

───── Waking up at last for the day that awaited her with open arms, [name] sat staring into space for another two minutes before getting up and heading for the bathroom. There was little energy in her body, but what little energy she did have was for the advice she would be giving today. 

The [skin color] was known for her advice when it came to romance - all of which had worked for those who asked. This led her to create a club at her high school to help anyone in need. Fixing her hair and primping, the teenager immediately put on her uniform before setting off for the station, headset on, walking with confidence. 

Her ears didn't capture the sounds of her surroundings, her body certainly did. A hand came to rest on his shoulder, and with a start [name] turned around, mouth and eyes wide open. Shoko, a short-haired brunette who certainly looked tired, but was nonetheless pretty, had a mocking smile on her face.  “There’s a reason why I’m wearing my headphones.” grumbled the [hair texture] while glaring down at the brunette.

“Sure, but I’m your best friend.” Shoko replied, reaching into her pockets and pulling out a cigarette and lighter as her friend looked on in disgust. [name] always thought of bringing her a pack of chewing gum because of her unbearable breath when she smoked. 

“I will never understand how you can put that thing in your mouth so early in the morning and not this,” exclaimed the exasperated teenager as she pulled out a packet of cake from her handbag and shared it with her friend, who gladly accepted. "Maybe your breath will be warmer!" she laughed under her friend's pout. Who teasingly nudged her.

“Smoke on the side, spill me the drama.” Shoko asked curiously, so the two of them walked in step with each other in the direction of the station, [name] telling her about the anonymous people who had sent her messages.

"Are you serious? What's going on in guys' heads?" 

“And it’s not finished, now her sister is pregnant.”

A little later, they finally arrived at their high school, continuing their journey together as they chatted. A little further on, two young men approached them - Getou Suguru. The black-haired man had long hair that had taken the time to be tied up in a low bun, with a lock on the right side of his face that kissed his face perfectly. His uncluttered face showed off his intimidating cat-like eyes, then his unstuck ears decorated with earrings. He was walking alongside his best friend Satoru. 

A very tall young man with a slim build, his pale complexion and the white hair crowning his head made his eyes stand out. They were such an intense blue that they sometimes terrified the young girl, but she eventually got used to them. 

“So, how do you plan to ask her out?” The black-haired man asked his friend while waving to the girls. 

Once reunited, the group began chatting together as they walked to their first class, which happened to be gym sports education. Walking alongside Satoru on her right, the teenager could feel his gaze on her form causing her to turn. Her eyes now connected with his, she frowned in confusion. 

"Do you need anything?" she began softly under the young man's doubtful gaze - "Because your eyes are a bit scary- I mean intimidating!" She corrected herself when she received a nudge from Shoko.

Rubbing her ribs, she couldn't see the half-amused and half-saddened look on his face. The [skin color] was known for her great help in terms of romance, but also for her great frankness. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind, and this scene didn't escape Suguru's notice, who snickered while shaking his head.

"You find my eyes frightening [name]?! I think me, Gojo Satoru has finally unlocked an insecurity. ." And lo and behold, his boyish personality reappeared in the blink of an eye.

"To be honest, yes doesn't stop them from being beautiful. Just scary."

"I really like the end of your sentence minus the first part!" 

"Seen like that, [name] is right." Shoko declared, much to the delight of her tall friend, who wrapped her arm around the brunette's arm. Arm in arm. The foursome headed for the gymnasium with a beautiful atmosphere surrounding them. 

End of class, [name] emerged without her friend, who happened to be in a different class to her, and walked slowly, mirror in hand, rearranging her make-up. Eyes riveted on her mirror, a figure she knew only too well stood behind her. 

“Oh ! Sato-” 

Cut off in his sentence by the latter's dramatic act of grabbing him by the shoulders. "I need your Cupid skills," he declared.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Murmur from the students, all grouped in a duo ready to get a good mark for this practical physics assignment - [name] and Satoru together. Concentrating both on their work and on the white-haired girl's heart problems, the young woman wasn't quite sure where she stood.

"Pass me that, and so a spontaneous girl with confidence eh..." 

Instrument in hand, she picked up the white powder and placed it on a watch glass, concentrating on the scale - her duo noting the number on their sheet of paper, eager to know what advice they would receive from her. 

"I see, well, you might as well start by getting to know her a little better than that. Ask her out on a few rather simple dates..." Dragging on her words, the young girl analyzed the sheet on which the calculations were made.

"If you're as attentive in class as you are with her it would be miraculous, look at that it's all wrong." Giving a sulky pout in an attempt to soften the threatening look his classmate was giving him, the youngster looked away with a puffed cheek. "Anyway, thanks for your advice [name]!"

He stood up suddenly, taking her in his hands and rubbing his cheek against the top of her head, but received a pinch in the ribs. "If there's one thing I hate, it's having my hair undone, write that down in your skull!" cried the [hair color] but in a low voice, amused the teenager could only chuckle. 

"Noted!"

Satoru waved to [name] as she left the classroom, and found Shoko waiting for him against a wall in the corridor, playing with her cigarette box. She rushed over to her friend and took her by the arm, telling her everything from A to Z. It had already been a while since Shoko and the head [hair texture] had noticed the attraction he had for her. 

“How do you plan to deal with him ? We’re talking about Gojo Satoru.”

“Well he’s not that annoying when he wants to actually, he was, well, a tiny bit helpful today with the assignment. Plus, does my hair look okay ?” 

Cupid asked in a panic while stroking the top of his head - his friend, showed him a thumbs up - "Top as usual, anything left to eat?" The brunette asked under [name]'s exasperated gaze.

"Here, I've got either chocolate muffins, paprika potato chips or chicken and raw vegetable wraps left."

"Muffins it is."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The next day arrived, and the teenager found herself in the middle of a discussion with a friend of hers, barely aware of the presence of the young man, who seemed to be nervous. Most of Satoru's evening was spent catching up with her brunette friend. The young man was not very good in the kitchen, but he did try to do a few things for her. 

"Right now she's got this weird obsession with hello kitty dim sum." He recalled the messages, took a deep breath before striding towards the head [hair texture]. Sensing a presence behind her, as well as the embarrassed expression their comrade wore, she guessed. 

"Gojo Satoru, to what do we owe your presence that put an end to our discussion?"She asked without curiosity, gesturing between herself and the girl. 

The atmosphere surrounding the two was highly comical in the eyes of the girl, who observed the scene with a small smile on her lips. She stood up, not forgetting to greet [name] and Satoru.

"You made her leave... . Her case was important too." 

Sighing as she crossed her arms, [name] glared at him as he sat down beside her. Being himself, the young man brought his head close to hers with a smile before exclaiming - full of joy - "Tadam!" - Blinking like an owl, she now faced him with a plate of Hello Kitty dim sum.

"I made them myself! And I bought us slices of strawberry tartlet!" 

". . . I've been wanting to eat them for a while," Satoru then passed her a pair of chopsticks which she accepted, first bite and she couldn't lie, "it's really good Satoru, surprisingly." 

"You're so mean [name]!" 

"Shut up and eat it before it gets cold." She took a piece from the dish and held it out in front of her mouth, taken aback Satoru stopped in his act and felt his face burn. His embarrassment showed, but [name] said nothing, admiring the smile on her face, his cheeks puffing out like a squirrel, as he ate with pleasure at being in her company.

"Wait, but that's an indirect kiss." He suddenly stopped chewing, looking at the girl with wide eyes.

"I mean, if you want something concrete between us, you shouldn't get excited about this kind of thing." The girl pinched his plump cheek. At her words, he looked at her even more astonished than he had been after the meal, he wanted to ask her out to the movies. Somehow he felt reassured, reassured to know it was mutual.

"I knew you'd fall under my spell." 

"If you keep looking at me with your eyes I'll end up leaving too." 

A moment of silence passed before he opened his mouth again - "How long have you known and how did you know it was you?" He swiveled his head to the side watching his crush eat his dessert - "I'm the high school cupid my dear, there are signs that don't deceive and then the dim sum proved my point. Only Shoko knew."

“I see, so um. . Are you free this Saturday? There's this movie out from Fibli Studio !” 

Nervousness set in, but that didn't stop the girl from accepting. A breath of relief escaped her mouth, then a laugh irritated her ears, which turned red, and Suguru and Shoko were present in their classroom, all smiles. The black-haired boy couldn't help teasing the white-haired.

"Who'd have thought you'd be nervous about this sort of thing."

"Coming from the guy who makes girls run and not after him."

"Look at those two," the brunette rolled her eyes at the interaction of the two best friends, who began to argue to the accustomed eyes of some of the students-" Otherwise you, frankly do you think you could get away with it?" She asked again to reassure herself that Satoru wasn't necessarily the best boyfriend material, but in [name]'s eyes he'd proved his worth.

"If he can keep me away from your smoking breath I'm sure." She immediately had her cheeks pinched by the brunette, energy. Her cheeks stretched the [skin color] tried to speak with the best of her ability - “I have gubs in my bug.” She added before being free from her friend’s friend thanks to Gojo.

“Two more points, Satoru, you can come by 4:45 pm tomorrow.” 

She said, rubbing her cheeks under the gloomy gaze of Shoko who held out her hand, she immediately handed him a chewing gum - "I note, see you Saturday!"-She waved her hand while leaving behind a happy teenager ready to tell his best friend about the joy he felt.

ᝰ.ᐟ winnie's note : oh hii everybody first of all thank you for reading this - it took me three days to finish it because of how busy i'm but i'm so glad it is finished ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ plus i loved the bond between shoko and reader so much hahahaha it was the funniest part (hopefully nobody was offended it was not my intention !) but yeah please like & re-blog it would help me plus i would love to read your comments too ! see ya ૮ • ﻌ - ა.

[sparkedblaze]

wh—what if you talked more about the delanceys in your modern au 👉🏻👈🏻

I guess I'm answering Nox's first anon, sorry. My phone is literally deleting half my post every time I try to save or post it :)

Idk what I'm gonna put in here, so I'm gonna have the usual Delanceys t/w on here and come back if I need more: Violence, fighting, cursing

I've given the overall look for the Delanceys, so here are just little things that I think about with them + modern au:

They both would hate fast food. It's greasy and disguting.

Oscar's the one who cooks the food for them. Morris can if he really tries, but Oscar's just better at it.

They have a joint twitter account, it's just easier that way. Morris is absolute trash at remembering passwords (look at me projecting) so it's easier when Oscar also knows the log in info, and uses it regularly so he doesn't also forget.

Oscar is aro/ace, and is hella confused and frustrated when Morris gets crushes because they're supposed to be in this together

Morris doesn't understand why Oscar is so upset that he mentioned how pretty York had been that day. It was just an observation.

That's how all his crushes start. An observation. "Did you see York's hair was in a ponytail instead of a bun today?" "Did Graves finally have the surgery he'd been planning?" "Jack Kelly has a boyfriend now. His eyes are blue like the sky." It's the little differences he notices that always catch his attention.

Oscar doesn't make Morris eat things he doesn't like. This might not seem like a big deal, but their Uncle Wies had always made them finish what was on their plate, even if Morris was sobbing and pleading and begging not to.

Oscar, on the other hand, will clear a plate no matter the contents. He's grateful just to have food at all (though he doesn't cook anything he doesn't like, so this is mostly for get togethers)

Their job is more than just them liking fighting. It's about quenching a bloodthirst that sits deep in their bellies. It makes them feel whole, whereas someone like York does it because he's good at it and makes decent money. He isn't completely dependent on the actions in the ring to live a complete life.

Morris isn't good with words. Putting them together is hard. Remembering them is even harder. And trying to string along enough to make sense to someone that isn't Oscar is next to impossible.

That being said, he's incredibly good with numbers. Birthdays, holidays, counting. Once he learns how to do number things, he remembers is. Once he learns long division, he can do that shit in his head.

I feel like I need to put a list of the stims and quirks I think Morris has, so here: Chirping when excited, flappy hands (both when excited and when trying to get off the bad sensories), crab claws when thinking, hopping over the last step in a staircase, clacking his teeth together when he's anxious, snapping when he needs to/is trying to remember something, rocking back and forth, tapping his fingers, cracking knuckles.

Oscar collects vinyl records. And Morris likes to go to the vinyl section of every store that has them to find something for Oscar.

Morris likes rock music. Oscar does too, but prefers quieter music. He probably really likes something lame like jazz, but uses rock or metal to get pumped before a fight.

Morris is still wearing most of the same clothes he wore in high school (why fix what ain't broke?)

Oscar dresses nicely. They grew up with practically nothing. He allows himself to have nice clothes, to remind him of where they came from and what all their hard work has achieved.

They avoid Wiesel. They avoid the Refuge. They're always traveling, and don't have a house. They don't have roots set down. They feel like they don't belong anywhere because of this. Because they're always staying in different hotel rooms and going to different states for different fights.

I hope this tickles your fancy. These are thoughts making it through my frustrated haze, so I'm sorry if this sucks :)

Ily <3!!!

[voidwritesstuff]

Rainy days And Family Dinners

Cw: none.

Summary: lazaro and desmond spend some time together before Desmond needs to go to work.

->reblogs appreciated.

Lazaro grumbled as he felt the weight under him shift. He nuzzles the crook of his lovers  neck and asks.

--Whats the rush?-- his brain stings a little as he talks,speaking in a second language as soon as he wakes up was not something his Brain liked.

--i have a few appointments with patients in an hour,I need to get ready-- Desmonds replies, trying to Gently push off his boyfriend. And failing miserably mind you,lazaro was huge in both height and weight.

Laz clicks his tongue, not insisting on him to stay. So,he does his best to sit up, Yawning and stretching his sore muscles out, his bones pop audibly. --Lord jesus christ--he mutters.

--It was a good nap though-- Desmond says,trying to cheer up the mood while he stands up and walks up to his desk as pale light comes from the half drawn blinds. It was a cloudy day,perfect to stay in bed.

--Yeah it was-- laz's voice is still deep and gravelly, but his lover can tell hes having a hard time putting together coherent phrases in english.

--We can switch languages-- the therapist's spanish was god awful pronounciation wise- but he didnt want to put his boyfriend through the mental stress of speaking another language as soon as he wakes up.

He sees his lover nodds and instantly the younger Man's posture changes, he seems more relaxed already-- bien, perfecto -- (great,perfect) says lazaro, standing up-- voy a hacernos te,ya vuelvo (im going to make US some tea,be right back).

Desmond absolutely loved the accent his boyfriend had when speaking their mother tongue. His voice gets just a little deeper and more cheery,his Y and double LL sound like SHs And he adores the mild singing which accompanies the ennunciation of the words.

In his little daydream over lazaros accent,he doesnt notice his boyfriend left. The Man sighs a little flustered and goes to get his paperwork and recorded ready while he waits.

When his boyfriend comes back a few minutes later, he notices two things about him. One, hes holding two cups and two his hair is down and falling well past his shoulders.

--That bun was killing me-- Laz explains setting the cups down and pushing back his long hair so it doesnt get in his face. Wild strands of chocolate hair and cobalt blue thread and entwine together in the mess that is his hair,well kept as it is.

Desmond flat out short circuits,much like his sister, Laz doesnt wear his hair down much. But when he does,its a treat.

--What?-- He asks a little confused.

--Nothing,its just- your hair. I dont see you with your hair down a lot-- the other Man explains, a contempt smile on his lips-- y-you look good

The younger Man smiles wide, a little flustered-- ah thanks.-- then,he clears his throat and goes behind the desk to join his lover in a big ol' hug. The kind that are bone crushing and extremely loving.

Desmond sets his head on his boyfriends chest, sighing in comfort-- hey,dont overwork today alright?

--Ill...try-- he promised,clinging on to his shirt just a little more, as if he doesnt want him to leave. Hes going to miss him dearly.

--good,i love you and I dont want you getting a stress ulcer. -- he replied,pushing Him back a little-- cmon,the tea'll run cold

Lazaro does eventually get ready to leave some 20 minutes after. At the moment hes slinging on his leather jacket and grabbing his bag-- Ill go home,visit my sister and help my parents, come By for dinner?

Desmond nodds,a little flustered because his lovers family was very accepting and very welcoming. The Castro family was warm and playful,somethint Desmond was still getting used to.

--Sure. Will do-- he replied,watching Him Grab his backpack and walk up to him to give him a quick goodbye kiss.

--Love you-- mutters laz, happiness in his eyes.

--Love you too -- replied desmond, to then look at him leave his Office. It felt like lazaro left with des' heart in his hands,he misses him already.

But alas,he does got work to do. So he finishes getting ready and waits for his patients to come by.

At the end of the afternoon,he closes up shop and gets ready to go to his inlaws,mentally preparing himself for the overwhelming love and acceptance this New family of his brings.

[ikeromantic]

Hello!If you cannot do it ,it's alright. I only just found the requests are open.I really love your writing and I wanted to ask for a secretly swords-woman Belle who defends herself when she was in the battlefield ,because of what the princes called firsthand experience, leaving everyone shocked. If you can please include all the suitors

Hope you have a great day♥️

Thanks for the ask, anon! I don't think this is exactly what you meant with this request, but it IS what came to my little brain. I hope you like it ^_^ Approx. 3000 words of secret-swordswoman Belle!

Chevalier

“King Highness,” the soldier collapsed to his knees before Chevalier. Blood was matted in his hair and he was trembling. “The rebellion sent a force at our base camp. Toward our supply lines and your - your -”

“Librarian,” Clavis supplied, his Cheshire cat smile wide. “Whatever will you do, dear brother?”

Chevalier sighed with heavy annoyance. “We cannot allow our supply lines to be compromised.” He ignored the soldier as he mounted his warhorse. “Leave the bulk of our army here. My personal forces are sufficient.”

Clavis followed along, still grinning. “And of course we are only there for the supplies.”

His brother did not reply, only rode toward base camp with a grim expression

They arrived in good time, coming up behind the Obsidian troops and catching them by surprise. The base camp was already in flames and armored men were cutting down anyone who tried to flee.

Chevalier rode into the melee like a stormwind, blowing the chaff before him. Blood-spattered, he made his way to the nexus of resistance. Enemy soldiers held back from a tent by a handful of Rhodolitian guards. One of whom was petite. Narrow shouldered. Her hair held up in a bun. 

The former Belle danced through the gaps between armored men, her blade whip-thin and sharp as razors. Where she danced, she left spatters and streams of crimson. 

Clavis laughed in delight. “An unexpected turn, King Highness!” 

Chevalier arched a brow, his expression still and cold, though his eyes never left his beloved’s figure. “Unexpected by you, perhaps.” He turned his mount. “There are more forces coming. Let’s see to them.”

Though his glacial calm was unchanged, it belied the fire in his heart. Chevalier felt a strong urge to crush the remaining Obsidian soldiers and pull Belle onto his horse. And kiss her. Breathless. Senseless. Reckless fool that she was. 

Clavis gave a sly grin. “Is that so? Then I suppose we best keep them back before they endanger your lover. Ah, librarian I meant to say, of course.”  

“Fiancée.”

At that, his brother’s jaw dropped. It was no easy thing to surprise Clavis. “You proposed?”

“Not yet,” Chevalier gave him a thin, sharp smile. 

Nokto

“We need to run,” Nokto whispered. He reached for Belle’s arm, intent on dragging her into the narrow, dark corridor that led to their escape.

She moved out of his grasp. “We can’t outpace them. We have to fight.”

“With what?” Exasperated, he reached for her again. 

Belle didn’t answer. The traitors were on them and there was no time to talk. 

Nokto wouldn’t leave her behind, but she wasn’t even trying to run. Instead, she pulled two thin, long knives from her skirts and took a wide stance. Not half as wide as his eyes though. She looked as if she knew what she was doing.

That impression grew as she knocked the first assailant out with a hilt and stabbed the second through his throat. Her hands moved fast, little birds with long silver beaks. Deadly and beautiful. 

He stood there a moment in pure shock. When and where had she learned to fight? Like this? Nokto felt for his own blade but remembered he wasn’t wearing it today. He rarely did, preferring less obvious weapons. But he couldn’t let her defend him. It just wasn’t . . . princely. 

He snagged a candleholder from the wall and bashed one of the attackers over the head. The heavy silver clanged dully as the blow landed, and then the bloody thing split apart. 

The Belle laughed. “I wondered if that would really happen!”

“Well, it did,” he grinned. “When were you going to tell me you’re a famous swordswoman, hm?”

“Thought I’d keep it under wraps. Til I needed it.” She cut down the last of their pursuers. Five men in all. “We should probably go, in case there are more.”

Nokto leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips. “I didn’t know how sexy a fighting woman could be. Don’t suppose I could talk you into pulling those out next time we -” his lips turned up in a hungry smile.

“Could be fun,” she replied, her eyes lit with dangerous promise. She cut his top button off and it pinged to the floor. 

“As if I needed more reason to hurry home.” 

Clavis

Clavis snuck up behind the Belle, a shard of ice clutched in his hand. It had been no easy task sneaking the ice past Sariel’s sharp gaze in the festival hall, and then getting around Rio who watched his mistress like a hawk. But here he was and there she stood, gazing out from the wide balcony. 

He grinned as he crept closer. This would be hilarious. His hand stretched out, the ice a mere fingerlength from her bare skin, the slight gap between her dress and her back was just wide enough for him to slip the ice -

The Belle turned and grabbed his arm, tugging him forward as she moved back. A steel blade gleamed in her right hand as her left held him against the balustrade. The sharp edge of her knife pressed against his inner thigh.

Clavis dropped the ice and held his hands up. “Caught me?”

“Holy - Prince Clavis! I didn’t realize it was you!” She let him go and tucked the dagger away in her skirts, blushing furiously.

“Ah and here I thought you reacted like that because it was me.” He grinned widely as he straightened up. His heart was pounding hard in his chest and he could feel adrenaline sing in his veins. “You’re pretty good with that.”

She shook her head. “Oh, n-not really. Can you just forget the last five minutes or so? Like it never happened?” The Belle sighed. “If you promise to never mention it again, I’ll even let you put ice down my back.”

Clavis chuckled. “Now what fun would that be with you expecting it, hm? No, I’m thinking there are much better pranks we can play on my brothers. Together.” His eyes landed suggestively on the hidden pocket she’d tucked her blade into.

“Oh no. No. I don’t like where your mind is going.”

He settled a hand on her shoulder. “Now now, you owe me one. At least one, after threatening my life. I was so frightened. You will have to do something to cheer me up.”

The Belle sighed. “Why do I have the feeling that whatever your thinking is going to get me in a world more trouble than just confessing this accident to Sariel now?”

“Probably because it will. But we’ll have such a good time.” Clavis’ smile spread even wider. There were so many ways he could use her little surprise skill. And what else might she be hiding from him? He couldn’t wait to find out.

Luke

Luke stood at the mouth of the alleyway, his honey-cake held in one hand, forgotten. He was supposed to be fetching the Belle back to the palace. She went shopping alone and Sariel was really mad about it. He’d been so mad he threatened Luke with a whole week of no sweets if he didn’t bring her back. 

So here he was, and there she was and she didn’t need any rescuing. There were three men trying to steal her purse - or worse - and two of them were already on the ground, groaning. The third looked like he wanted to run.

Belle held her sheathed sword toward the last thief. “You are going to tie up your little friends now.”

“Like hell I am,” the man shouted, and tried to lunge away.

Her sheath caught him in the knee and as he fell, her hilt clunked into the back of his head. The thief fell to the ground with a groan. Belle sighed. “Great. You couldn’t just do what I asked. Now I have to lug your big, stupid body around and tie you up too.”

“Uhh?” Luke stepped forward. “I could . . . help.” He stared down at the three men, all much bigger than Belle, with scars and callouses that told a story of their hard-lived life. 

“Luke!” She rushed forward and hugged him. “I am so glad to see you!”

He rubbed his head with his free hand. “I didn’t know you could fight. Guess you don’t need much protecting, huh?”

“There’s all kinds of ways to protect someone, remember? But . . . I probably shouldn’t run off on my own. Knowing how to use a sword and using one are different.”

Luke smiled and patted her. “That’s right.” That was when he noticed the slightest tremor in her hands, a shiver that went down her spine.

He pulled her closer and settled his chin on top her head. “You know, I don’t think a plan matters. Let’s go.” Luke handed her his honey cake and picked her up.

Her protests were so cute, he thought. His Belle was strong and smart and sweet, but she always pushed herself too hard. Too much. It was up to him to protect her from herself.  

“If you don’t put me down right now, I’ll - I’ll -”

Luke kissed her. She tasted sweeter than honey and hotter than a cake fresh from the oven. Her arms tightened around him as she kissed him back. When he pulled back for a breath, he smiled. “You’ll what?”

She smiled. “I’ll kiss you. Again.”

Leon

Leon wandered the halls, looking for the Belle. She wasn’t in her room or the gardens, not in the library or kitchen, and Sariel hadn’t seen her. He needed to ask his brothers. She had to be there somewhere. 

He stepped into the training room, searching for Licht. His brother wasn’t there. None of the princes or their officers were. But the training room wasn’t empty. The Belle wore a pair of tight trousers and a shirt with a leather vest, practical clothes for practice. And sword practice was what she was doing. 

She held a sword in both hands, a bastard blade that looked too big for her. But she moved with it gracefully, her skill obvious as she stepped through several guard and strike postures.

Leon peeled off his coat and picked up a practice sword. 

The Belle jumped at the sound of it as he pulled it from the rack. When she saw him, she tried to hide the blade behind her back. “Ah, Prince Leon! You um, I was just . . . gosh, this um, this sword is so heavy. I probably shouldn’t be playing with it.”

“Didn’t look much like you were playing.” Leon smiled. “You don’t have to be shy around me. Or embarrassed.”

She blushed and looked away. “It’s not the kind of thing a lady is supposed to be doing in her freetime. Sword play isn’t exactly cross-stitch.”

Leon laughed. “It definitely isn’t. Why don’t you show me what you know? I’d love to practice with you.”

“I’m sure you’re much better than me. You’ll get bored. And I’ll be embarrassed even more.”

He shrugged. “Nah. It will be fun.” Leon took up position across from her. “Let’s go.” 

Jin

Jin looked at the bandits surrounding his small camp. There were too many for him to take on alone and he didn’t have back up. It was just him and the Belle. He leaned over to whisper in her ear. “I’m going to distract them. When I do, you run. Get to the horses and ride back to town. Got it?”

She frowned at him. “Like hell. I’m not going to leave you here.”

“That’s sweet, but if we both stay, you could get hurt. Or killed. I can’t take on this many men on my own.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not alone.” The Belle flashed him a smile and laughed at his look of surprise as she slid two sharp knives from her skirts. 

Jin could only stare for a moment as she leapt at the nearest bandit and cut him down, then spun to the next. She was fast. Darting like a serpent into the midst of their enemies. He would have liked to just watch. 

There was something seductive in this new and dangerous aspect. But he’d have time to explore that with her later. In depth. Right now, there were bandits awaiting his attention.

Licht

The battle raged around him, a storm of steel and blood. Licht fought for his life as much as his country and his men. The Obsidian soldiers had them surrounded and outnumbered, but that meant nothing to the prince. He pressed forward, tenacious and determined.

They broke through the enemy line, finally catching sight of the border tower that was their objective. Licht stopped and stared for a moment as the scene came clear. A Rhodolitian force was already there, fiercely engaged. The prince saw only one knight, backed up to the stone battlements fighting for his life.

“There,” he shouted, and pushed for that position. Licht wasn’t sure how that one soldier got separated from his force but alone, he could only hold so long.

His troops formed a wedge and together, they made their way to the tower base. Licht could not help but stare as the lone soldier parried and blocked, moving through the fight with light, careful steps. It was a style familiar, but made strange by the elegance of the soldier. They moved with ease, agile and smooth. Narrow-shouldered and short, the lone soldier didn’t look all that intimidating but clearly knew their business.

The lone soldier still held their ground, holding back the tide of Obsidian forces, so Licht’s men were able to take them from behind. When the tower’s base was clear, the prince approached the soldier. “You there! What is your name? Who’s force are you with?”

They took off their helm.

“Belle?” Licht felt as if the world spun upside down. The lone soldier was the Belle. 

She smiled and wiped a drop of sweat from her brow. “Ah, yeah. Sorry. I meant to stay with the rest of the column but . . .” She shrugged.

Licht blinked. “You were supposed to be at the palace. Safe.”

“I couldn’t just sit there while everyone else was in danger.”

“You - you -” Licht closed the space between them and pulled her into a tight hug. Their armor clanked as he held onto her. He didn’t care. He didn’t ever want to let go.

Yves

Yves and the Belle stood back to back in the village square, looking from the face of one Obsidian spy to another. The prince took a breath, feeling his throat catch as he tried to find the words that would fix . . . this.

One of the spies called out. “Just give up and come with us. We’ll let your girlfriend go. Promise. No one needs to get hurt.”

“Yet,” someone else laughed.

“I . . . I will, but you have to let her go first,” Yves replied, sounding stronger than he felt.

The Belle reached for his hand. “No. You don’t have to do this,” she whispered.

“I do. I’m going to keep you safe.”

She squeezed his fingers. “We’re going to keep each other safe.”

“What?” Yves tried to glance back at her, but she was already moving. 

The Belle released his hand and pulled a rapier from a hidden sheath. “You aren’t taking him,” she said.

Yves had no choice but to follow suit. He pulled his sword as well. “That’s right. No one is leaving with you.” He hoped she had some plan.

The Obsidian spies attacked. For a moment, it was all Yves could do to hold them off of him. He was terrified they would hurt Belle and angry that they would try. But when he cleared the space around him, he saw his worries were unfounded.

She was a whirlwind of steel and ferocity. The Belle lunged and struck, stepped and spun. Behind her, men fell bleeding or unconscious. 

Yves felt . . . inadequate as he looked at his own opponents. Two men he’d managed to fight off. And she had taken five. Five! “I didn’t know you could fight,” he said, unable to hide his pouting lips. 

“A bit,” she smiled and flicked the blood from her blade. She slid it back into the sheath.

“You might have said.” Yves looked down. “I thought I was keeping you safe. But you didn’t need me at all.”

Belle laughed softly and hugged him. “I always need you, Yves. I didn’t want to tell you I could fight. I thought you might not like me so much if you knew.”

“What? Something like that could never make me love you less!” Yves hugged her back, suddenly feeling very warm. His heart galloped in his chest.” In a quieter voice he added, “You really do need me?”

“Always. I couldn’t imagine life without you, Yves.”

“Good. Because I can’t either.”

Rio

“Bring your arm up. Put weight on your back foot.” Rio’s blue eyes were sharper and harder than usual. His lips pressed firmly together.

Belle followed his instructions, trying to keep it all in her head all at once. 

Rio nodded as his eyes followed the tension in her body. “Good. Good. Now-” He struck with lightning fast speed, moving the practice sword as if it were a part of his arm.

She held him off, barely. 

“You’re getting better!” His face relaxed into an easy smile as he let up on his attack. “I think you might be a natural.”

“You think so?” The Belle smiled back at him. “I wonder where you learned it though? Sword fighting. Maybe you were a soldier?”

Rio’s expression went flat for a moment. “Maybe. I don’t remember.” Then he smiled brightly again. “It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad I can help you like this. I want to make sure you stay safe even if I can’t be right by your side.”

She laughed. “It’s just the palace, Rio. I’m sure I’ll be fine, with or without the sword.”

“I’m not. The palace is a battlefield.” He paused, blinking, then laughed. “No, of course you’re right. I’m sure you’ll be safe. Let’s put these up and go fetch something good to eat.” 

Rio would make sure the Belle stayed safe, no matter what. He didn’t want her to worry or to be afraid. 

Sariel

Sariel handed the Belle a fine, slim blade. The guard was a lily with gold etching, limned with tiny diamond chips that sparkled in the sun. 

She looked at it with wide eyes. “What? Sariel, what is this?”

“Don’t play coy with me. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” His lips thinned to a line of firm disapproval. 

“I . . .” Her shoulders fell. “Fine. I guess I’m not surprised. What gave me away?”

“The callouses on your palm. The way you react to surprises. The way you hold your dinner knife. Honestly, if you wanted to keep your sword skills a secret, you ought to try harder.” Sariel sniffed. 

The Belle sighed. “I didn’t know I was so obvious.”

Sariel’s smile returned, thin and sharp as the edge of the blade he held. “We’ll work on that too. Now take this and replace that common steel you’re carrying. This is the palace and I won’t have our Belle using substandard arms.”

She took it from him and exchanged the dented, worn blade in her hidden sheath. 

“Good girl. Now come along. I’ve arranged for a tutor to show you better how to disguise those skills. I want to make sure I can use you to the fullest.” His smile was unsettling and something wicked gleamed in the depths of his eyes. 

Sariel knew he’d picked the perfect Belle for these noble beasts and she only kept proving him right. Perhaps, he thought, I will even keep her employed after the new king is chosen. She’s good to have around. For many reasons . . .

[mossy-rainfrog]

[Image ID: A digital drawing of Martin and Jon in season 1 of the Magnus Archives. Martin is seen out in the archives hallway, through the doorway to Jon’s office. Martin a fat Black man with short coily hair, round glasses, and snake bite lip piercings. He wears a blue sweater over a white collared shirt, and carries a brown satchel with him. Martin is looking over his shoulder with interest as he walks into work, and in a smaller panel to the side, we see Jon watching him with wide eyes. Jon is a thin Persian person with long greying hair tied back in a low bun, and rectangular glasses. He wears a red button down underneath a brown jacket, and is seated at the desk in his office. He stares out at Martin, looking flustered. There are small lines by Martin’s mouth indicating the piercings, and there are exclamation marks by Jon’s head indicating his reaction. End ID.]

I found an old fic in my notes about Martin dressing alt/punk outside of work and accidentally leaving on a small indicator of his usual fashion when he comes into the archives and I just. had to bring it back. Also, because I am still fond of it, please enjoy the aforementioned fic🥰:

Jon is having a difficult morning, to say the least. He had believed that coming into work an entire hour early would provide him with ample time to get a head start on today’s organizing, but that has decidedly not been case. He’s already had to take the statements of two utterly ridiculous liars who could barely keep the grins off of their faces as they recounted their ludicrous tale, and then listen to Elias subsequently dress down his so-called ‘attitude towards patrons’ for nearly half an hour, and suffice it to say, he would really like to get started on something that is actually worth his time.

He dislikes settling down with the more... difficult statements before all of his colleagues arrive, an attempt to keep them from interrupting his recordings to greet him, so once he’s finished his other menial tasks, he finds himself simply sitting and waiting for the ensemble of his assistants to arrive.

Tim and Sasha are the first - entering together as usual after having stopped for coffee on the way in - but Martin is slow to follow, taking nearly another fifteen minutes to arrive. It’s nearly ten past seven at that point, and once Jon hears Martin’s steps coming towards his office, he has half a mind to give the man yet another lecture on punctuality and work ethic. He gets as far enough as bracing his hands on the table to stand up, and then Martin appears in the doorway to his office, and he realizes something strikingly different about his appearance.

That is to say, Jon’s whole world narrows down very suddenly to the little black studs decorating the space underneath his bottom lip.

He’s staring, he knows he is, but Martin is busy looking down the hall for the moment, so Jon doesn’t force himself to tear his eyes away just yet. How long has he had his lip pierced, Jon wonders? Has it been there the whole time he’s known him? Has he only recently gotten it done? How? Why?

It’s hard to imagine Martin - soft, unassuming Martin who is far too large for the amount of space he crams himself into, always slouching, always pulling himself inwards as if he can make himself disappear - dressing in any way other than soft sweaters and slacks, but if Jon’s honest, he’s never actually seen the man outside of work. He has no idea how Martin chooses to dress himself when out from under the Institute’s rigid dress code, and this tiny window he’s been provided with is making him maddeningly curious.

He’s not... he doesn’t have feelings for Martin, aside from a general annoyance, occasionally marked with curiosity. He’s a professional, for God’s sake, not to mention that Martin’s very existence as a given is like a grain of sand in his eye, rubbing and irritating. Now he cuts clean through without even noticing. Jon itches to know more.

“Jon?” Martin’s voice tears him from his thoughts. “Is something wrong?”

Oh, shit. Jon can feel his gaze heat up as if he’s done something horribly wrong - how embarrassing that he can’t even keep a blush off of his face - but he still forces himself to open his mouth and stutter out an excuse. He means to remark on one of Martin’s missing reports, or the fact that he’s coming in nine minutes late, but what ends up leaving his mouth is; “Your lip is pierced.”

Just a sentence, not a question. He thinks he’s positively beet red. Martin freezes, the tips of his ears darkening visibly against his brown skin as his hand shoots to his mouth and his eyes widen.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I must have forgotten to take them out,” the poor man looks like he’s about to panic as he whips his gaze around as if to see if anyone else has noticed. “Don’t tell Elias, please, I’ve seen how he gets after Tim for the dress code, and there is no way, I mean no way—”

“Oh, n-no, it’s- I- it’s fine, really,” Jon raises his hands in defense as Martin rambles, for some reason inclined to reassure the man. “I won’t- I’m not- I’m not going to tell him.”

Martin hesitates, wringing his hands, apologies visible on every pore of his face. “I- Thank you. I’ll- I’ll go take it off. Christ, that’s embarrassing.”

“Only if you want,” Jon shrugs, which is definitely not the correct thing for him to say as a boss, and it definitely comes out a little gentler than he intends it to, and Jon is three seconds from screaming if he can’t figure out how to make himself react normally to this. It’s a non-traditional piercing in an academic institute of research; it’s against the rules, however dated they may be, and further than that, there is no reason for it to completely undo his composure the way that it has. He tries to get a hold of himself. “I-I mean, that’s likely for the best.”

Martin is giving him a funny look - probably a response to seeing the whole spectrum of human emotions flash across Jon’s face in a millisecond - but he still nods and says: “Sorry again. Thank you,” and then disappears down the corridor.

Jon immediately buries his face in his hands and sighs.

What is wrong with him? For God’s sake, he’s just seen Martin with a lip piercing, it’s not like he’s witnessed the man undressed. Besides, he works in an archive where he has to read statements about the intricacies of monsters that rip off people’s skin and suchlike every day, he should know how to keep his composure better than this. He should just move on with his day and focus without a problem, just like he does every morning.

Except, his mind keeps wandering back to it; the way the little studs had followed the shape of his mouth, the way they had quirked up when he flashed one of his nervous smiles, the way Jon is still desperately curious about what brought him to get them done, and also what it might feel like to brush a thumb, or perhaps even his lips over them.

Jon sits up so fast his head actually smacks against an open filing cabinet behind him. His mind is too busy reeling to notice the ache that fills his head, and he stares straight ahead with wide eyes and utterly scorching cheeks. Absolutely not. He absolutely did not just think about kissing Martin Blackwood. that was- that would be...

He blinks hard, clears his throat. It doesn’t matter what that was. He’s decidedly not interested in Martin Blackwood romantically, or in any other capacity given his truly ridiculous academic competence and his obnoxious habit of interrupting seemingly every stable thing Jon has in his life. He crushes the feeling down hard, locks it up in a box, stuffs it down under his lowest two ribs, and resolves himself never to open it again.

He is not going to keep thinking about this all day. He has work to do, and if something as simple as a pair of metal studs can distract him this badly, then he needs to make absolutely certain it doesn’t happen again.

He tells himself he’s not disappointed when he sees Martin without the piercings later that day.

[hualianff]

Hot Ranch-Owning Gays Ride into the Sunset

(tags: being gay on horses)

Thinking about HC who co-owns the ranch with YSH. HC mainly cares for the horses while YSH takes care of the other animals on the ranch: cows, chickens, pigs, etc.

They run a summer program where people can learn to ride horses for a fun group activity. Cue SQX bringing a group that includes HX, XL, MQ, and FX.

See HC walking around shirtless, dressed in those jeans that make his ass look good. He’s ripped and tanned, your honor. Gorgeously hot. 

You bet your ass that when HC first sees XL, he personally helps out the pretty boy from the city. He shows XL how to safely pet the horse; he helps lift XL onto the horse; HC even rides his own horse alongside XL, making casual conversation.

XL positively preens under this very attractive man’s attention. 

“Gege is a natural. Are you sure this is your first time riding?”

XL smiles sheepishly, tugging on the reins after almost losing his balance for the nth time. HC really knew how to butter someone up.

“Riding a horse? Yes, it’s my first time-” 

HC nearly chokes on his spit at XL’s clarification. Does this mean that XL has experience riding other things!?

“-and I’m glad you’re here with me.”

Oh? If HC were walking on his own two feet instead of sitting upon E’ming - who’s behaving quite well today - he would have stumbled like a fool. 

“You’re really nice to talk to,” XL finishes, directing his kind eyes toward HC.

And yeah, HC swore he would never have a thing for city boys. 

But for XL, he’s willing to make an exception.  

In the background, MQ is withering away under the sun’s scorching heat and FX is sweating buckets - he might as well go shirtless. YSH coaxes HX into being less stiff and SQX is having the time of their life vlogging everything.

After that, it’s not a surprise that XL signs up for future lessons. 

Private lessons. 

With HC. 

And the rest is history.

***

After XL’s fifth lesson when he’s super-duper sore because “who knew sitting with your legs straddled and being jostled up and down for so long could make it hard to walk??” , HC carries him back to the check-in building and offers a massage.

XL blushes to the roots of his hair as he shyly accepts. 

(YSH when she sees HC carrying XL into his private house: “simp”)

(Later on, when they finally begin dating, HC indeed gives XL many butt and thigh massages after riding practices.)

***

Over time, XL becomes a decent rider.  The horses love him too, almost as much as they love HC. Which is saying a lot because HC feeds and grooms them. 

Once, XL tries riding E’Ming.

E’ming, the cheeky bastard, starts bucking! Playfully trying to yeet XL off. 

Unfortunately, for HC’s poorly concealed crush, XL manages to stay on by grabbing the reins tight and leaning close against E’Ming’s body, swerving his hips in a way that has HC mesmerized.

(YSH walking by and snapping a picture: “that horny grip is unreal” )

***

XL brags about his boyfriend all the time to his city co-workers and sometimes fengqing but they just scoff because “a rancher as a boyfriend is so fucking lame”

Then HC visits for a week. 

And HC fits into the city scene perfectly while still maintaining his own character. Read: the sexy rancher who wears his shirts half-unbuttoned, boots that click loudly upon the pavement, long hair pulled back into a low, loose bun. 

Two eyes with startling heterochromia; one eye an aqua blue and the other a shade of brown that appears scarlet in the sunlight.

He’s tan and muscled and speaks with a slight accent in the standard dialect. 

XL is prepared for the amount of claiming he has to do. He is a city boy, after all. 

HC is more than happy to indulge in public displays of affection. 

Private displays as well. For the rest of the week, XL has a very sore back and ass. Help him. 

***

XL spends part time in the city, and part time at HC’s ranch. It fluctuates depending on his work schedule. 

Whenever XL comes back, if HC is near, he will sprint towards XL and scoop him up and twirl him around in circles.

“Gege came back!”

XL shrieks with laughter.

“I’ll always come back to my lovely San Lang.”

They hug for a solid twenty seconds.

Hualian are so so in love. HC never even dreamed of finding a lover and look, XL just came into his life and turned his world upside down !

(SQX: “you’re welcome, by the way”

HC: “go away”)

XL is just so curious and kind and compassionate and knows how to enjoy himself. What HC doesn’t fully realize is that he has made XL comfortable and loved enough to freely be himself.

XL gives HC everything HC never thought he deserved.

HC is used to being alone, but after meeting XL, he doesn’t want to be.

And he doesn't have to be.

(*Symphony by Cody Fry plays*)

***

HC and YSH are health nuts and grow most of their food themselves. 

Xl loves helping YSH tend to the gardens!

(Also…

XL cracking an egg with one hand: 😊🍳

HC and YSH: “WHAT HOW!?”)

***

Even though XL grew up in the big city, he LOVES being outdoors. So all the activities HC is used to doing alone. Hiking? Washing things by the river. Fishing. Riding horses in the open fields-

He has XL to accompany him now!

HC showing XL his favorite flower field to lay down in and gaze up at the clouds.

XL star-fishing on his back, eyes closed in bliss, laughing, flowers surrounding him. He paints a picture of perfection. HC knows this is what happiness looks like.

“OH! SAN LANG! Lemme make you a flower crown!”

***

Hualian definitely have car sex.

The aftermath…

XL: “this was definitely the most uncomfortable place to have sex at”

HC: “i dunno, we haven’t tried on a horse yet”

***

News spreads fast that the notorious lone wolf HC got himself cuffed.

Different ranchers from around had to visit and take a look. Some are in disbelief, never thought the rumors would be true. HC was so distant and short with people, who would want that?

Others are jealous. Someone tired the top gay bachelor in the area and it’s a freaking city boy?

Some have the chance of stumbling upon XL before HC when they arrive at Paradise Ranch. XL, with his shirt off, silver chain necklace hanging from his neck, and short jean shorts - easily shoveling hay.

Since when did HC hire a stable boy?

XL greets them with a bright smile and offers to walk them to the front office, assuming they need to check in to be shown around.

“Nah, we’re here for Hua Cheng. We’re buddies of his and wanted to catch up.”

And XL will be like: “I see. Let me fetch San Lang for you.”

And he jogs off, low bun gradually falling out.

(The other ranchers: “WHOMST IS THIS SAN LANG??”)

And HC arrives, dressed as liberally as XL is. 

He has very visible hickeys on his neck, which confirms that yes, this man has been getting laid on the daily.

HC pauses his conversation to tell XL: “I’ll finish with the hay. Why don’t you go in and take a bath? When I’m done here, we’ll get ready for dinner together, okay?”

XL tries to protest at first but HC shuts him up with a kiss, and a hand stroking his waist, a gesture saying “be a good boy and do as I say.”

XL finally nods, and waves his boyfriend and company off.

HC crosses his arms and smirks knowingly at his visitors.

***

w/ @no-one-says-hi 

[jadequeen88]

Incel Tomura

I couldn’t think of a good title for this, so... I just went with something real blunt. Anyway, this was inspired by a friend and how she actually met her IRL boyfriend.

PAIRING: Incel!Shigaraki x egirl!reader

TW: face sitting, degradation, mommy kink, reader basically bullying Tomura (he deserves it)

3.2k~

AS ALWAYS MY FICS ARE STRICTLY 18+

“TCH!”

Tomura scoffed at the screen of his laptop. The Discord server he helped admin had gone to shit since he let that idiot Dabi loosen the requirements to join. It was one thing when Toga joined. He knew she was a decent gamer. But you? With those stereotypical cat-ear headsets, perfectly done make-up and short skirts? Please… He saw right through you. Just another fake ~uwu~ e-girl trying to pretend they knew what they were talking about.

It didn’t end with you being annoyingly informed in the gaming chat, either. You were always in the anime and manga chats, too… Suggesting different ones that there’s no way you actually enjoyed.

But the WORST part of you being in the server? Spamming the picture chat with selfies and outfit pics. No, it wasn’t against the guidelines and yes, you got lots of compliments (of course, you were clearly hot), but it made Tomura livid. Where there used to be pics of half-built PCs and screenshots of character upgrades, now there were endless pictures meant to tease and bait the guys in the server.

Today’s picture is what sent him completely over the edge. Your hair was put up in two messy space buns, signature pink cat-eared headset perched on your head. Your black, mesh top was straining against your tight, hot pink bra, barely hiding your cleavage and your slender neck was adorned with a chunky, black collar with a large, silver ring hanging from the front. The icing on the cake, though… the thing that broke him, was the face you were making. Eyes crossed, little pink tongue lolling past your perfect hot-pink lips, it was an obvious ahegao face. The caption read:

“New collar! Thank you for da gift @XxXknifey_wifeyXxX”

Followed by a bunch of annoying ass emojis.

Tomura shifted in his gaming chair, his growing bulge making his sweats tight. He gritted his teeth and opened his DMs…

******

You snickered as you opened your text chat with Dabi. Poor Tomura… He had no clue his friend was an old high school buddy of yours and sent screenshots every single time he bitched about your presence on the server. At first, it was just a couple of snide comments, but you quickly decided to turn it into a game. You’d add more emojis than you normally would, flirt shamelessly with Toga in the chat, and be very vocal with your opinions. Then it progressed with more and more selfies, pics showing off your new skirts, and pics of your pink, girly gaming setup. Today you pushed it with the ahegao face, you’ll admit. It was pretty out of character for you, but you couldn’t wait to hear about Tomura’s reaction from Dabi.

It was everything you hoped it would be:

Decay_666_

So can we give those bitches their own chat or what? Seriously, I’m sick of seeing their shit everywhere. Did you see her ahegao face selfie? This server was supposed to be for ACTUAL gamers, not fake e-girl sluts spamming the chat with their bullshit…

Cremation_Daddy

Lol, damn dude, calm down… we can make a separate chat. You’re the only one on the server complaining. Y/N really fucking you up that bad?

Decay_666_

Oh, fuck off… she’s just being an attention whore and it’s getting on my nerves.

Cremation_Daddy

Yeah, whatever you say. Prolly jerkin it to that selfie right now

You didn’t know why, but you kinda had a crush on the skinny loser. Knowing how worked up he’d get over the smallest things you did thrilled you. You wanted to know just how badly you affected him and today was the day you’d find out.

*****

Tomura heard a ping from his monitor alerting him to a new DM. expecting it to be Dabi giving him more shit, he scowled and clicked over to his Discord tab. When he saw that it was you DMing him, it was like someone had poured a bucket of ice water over his head. He could barely type he was so nervous.

Y/N

Hey :)

Decay_666_

Hi

Y/N

How did you like my new collar?

Tomura panicked. Had Dabi said something? There’s no way he’d do that. How did he even respond to that? He decided to feign ignorance.

Decay_666_

What collar?

Y/N

*image*

He audibly gasped. You sent him the selfie you’d posted in the chat earlier. Somehow, it was even hotter than the first time he’d seen it. Probably because you had sent it to him. You wanted to make sure he saw it. The thought alone made him painfully hard. He typed out a shaky response:

Decay_666_

Yeah… you look really pretty :)

He grimaced. He couldn’t think of anything clever when he was put on the spot like that. Plus, how long had it been since he’d spoken to a girl one on one? Much less a hot one? Never. That’s when.

Y/N

Aww, you’re so sweet :) wanna see it in person?

Now Tomura was wondering if he’d died and gone to heaven. Did she want to meet up? Wearing that fucking collar? There’s no way… He stared at the screen for a good ten minutes before another ping brought him back to reality.

Y/N

I’m free now if you are. Plus, there’s a new episode of *insert favorite anime* out and I didn’t wanna watch it alone.

Decay_666_

Yeah. Sure.

His response was almost uninterested but inside he was panicking. When was the last time he showered? How much time did he have to get ready? Did he even have any clean clothes? He leaped from his chair and ran to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Another ping rang out and he raced to check his DMs to see that you’d sent your address. To his surprise, you only lived a short walk from him. Another jolt of excitement shot through his spine as he quickly responded.

Decay_666_

Be over in 30 :)

He turned on the shower then started picking through his pile of clothes finding the ones that smelled the least offensive. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this nervous and excited at the same time.

*****

 Tomura shifted from one foot to the other, nervously scratching at the side of his neck. He caught himself before the skin there broke and he ended up having to deal with a bloody neck on top of already being a nervous wreck. He’d only been standing outside your apartment for a minute or two, but it felt like an eternity. He kept checking his phone to distract himself. Just as he was starting to question if this had been a good idea, the door flung open.

His eyes widened and his mouth turned into a thin line. You answered the door in a fucking towel. He began opening and closing his mouth like a fish that had been plucked from the water. You giggled innocently like it was perfectly normal to answer the door nearly naked.

“You’re here a little earlier than I expected! I just got out of the shower. Come on in,” you moved to the side to give him room to walk through the door into your small apartment. You were sure to not move completely out of the way so he’d have to almost brush against your chest. You could feel him stiffen and hold his breath as he passed by.

This was going to be so much fun…

*****

Tomura’s dick had been painfully hard the moment he’d seen you in that towel. Luckily, when you’d gone into your bedroom to get dressed, he was able to position it in his waistband so he wouldn’t be pitching a tent in front of you. The thought of you noticing him popping a boner just by looking at you in a towel was mortifying. 

However, what you decided to change into didn’t help his situation. Your baby pink terry cloth shorts would have shown the curve of your ass had it not been for the little row of ruffles around the bottom. Your tank top, the same baby pink color as your shorts, was pulled tight across your chest (holy shit, were you not wearing a bra?!). A fleeting glance at your chest proved to Tomura that you definitely were not wearing a bra.

“You can come on back,” you beckoned from the doorway of your bedroom, “I thought we’d be more comfortable in here…”

He gulped and rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans before nodding and rising to walk towards you. Your room was foreign to him. Decorated with all shades of pink and purple, soft, plush bedding, and a soft pink glow emanated from the LED strip lights that lined the walls. Tomura stood awkwardly, looking around for a chair to sit in when you flopped onto your bed and began pulling up the streaming app on your tv. 

You looked up at him sweetly and patted the spot on the plush comforter next to you. “Come sit, Tomu! You don’t have to stand way over there. I don’t stink, ya know,” the wink you gave him made his knees buckle.

“Umm,” he chuckled nervously, “No, of course not. You, uhh… you smell…”

No, you were way too close. This was bad. There’s no way he would be able to string together a coherent thought, much less hold an actual conversation with you. You pout and lean in even closer to him.

“Tomuuuuu!” fuck, he hated that he loved that stupid nickname, “You think I smell?!”

“What?! N-no, not at all. I was trying to say that-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you tilted your head to the side offering up your neck for him to smell and he swears his eyes crossed as he tried to absorb what was happening.

“I even wore my new perfume! Go on, smell. Tell me what you think,” you smirk looking out of the corner of your eye.

Fuck.

You were teasing him, he knew you were, but his dick was so hard that he was completely at your mercy. He leaned in to take a tentative sniff and his eyes wandered lower. His breath hitched when he noticed the outline of your hardened nipples peeking through the thin material of your tank top. Before he knew what was happening, you turned your face forward and put your mouth next to his ear.

“Are you looking down my shirt, you pervert?” you purred. Tomura made some sort of incoherent noise and pulled away.

You laughed and pushed his shoulder playfully, “Geeze, I’m just kidding! You’re wound so tight.” you pause making a thoughtful face.

“Oh, I know how to help! Come on, over here,” you pulled him between your spread thighs and proceeded to rub his shoulders, working out all of the knots in his lean back.

After a few seconds, Tomura began to relax into your touch, slumping slightly and letting out a tiny sigh. He was deathly still the entire time you massaged him. He was terrified if he moved too much that his raging boner would free itself from his waistband. When your hands left his shoulders, he started to move away just to be pulled back into your lap. His head landed in your cleavage as your hands trailed down his chest. 

“Hmm, so tense, Tomu,” you whispered into the crown of his hair, “Is my massage not working?”

He wanted to yell that of course he was tensed up. That his dick is the hardest it’s ever been in his life and if he doesn’t hold as still as possible, he’s scared he might start humping the air like a pathetic dog. Before he can answer, your hand trails down to the waistband of his jeans, and he freezes. The tips of your fingers brush across his leaking tip and Tomura lets out a low, needy moan before he can stop himself.

“Just what I thought,” you purred as you began to trail your fingers up and down the hard bulge in his jeans, “Pathetic. Look at you, so fucking hard for me. And all I did was rub your shoulders.” He wanted to defend himself, but all he could do was whine as his eyes rolled in the back of his head while you continued touching him through his jeans.

“And to think, I never thought you’d want anything to do with some fake bimbo like me. Because I only game and watch anime for attention, right?” you squeeze his cock through his jeans, causing him to yelp. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself, incel? Wanna tell me why your dick is this hard for me if I’m so annoying to you?”

The realization that Dabi had told you everything flitted through the back of his mind, but he didn’t have room in his brain right then to be mad at him. He had to do whatever he needed to do to keep you touching him.

“I, ahh... I’m s-sorry,” he stuttered pathetically. The front of his jeans was wet from your teasing and the denim was rubbing him raw through his thin boxers, “D-didn’t, fuck, didn’t mean it like… ahh, l-like th-that.”

You loved how easily you could wreck him. You pet his hair back from his sweaty brow as you cooed at him lovingly.

“You know,” you removed your hand from the front of his jeans and he whined from the lack of friction, “You really hurt my feelings, baby. I thought you were so cool and the whole time, behind my back, you said just mean things about me.”

He sat up and turned to face you. His pathetic, needy gaze shot straight to your core. The power you held made you drunk and you desperately wanted more.

“No, no no no…” he grabbed your hands and you realized how clammy they were, “I’m-I’m so sorry. Please! Please…”

“Hmm,” you studied him for a moment, “Well… There might be a way you could make me feel a little better.” you tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, “You were so mean to me.”

“Anything! Please! I-I’ll do anything for you!” desperation started creeping in, thinking you’d leave him hanging with no relief. Little did he know, you had no intention of letting him go any time soon. Your plush lips curled into a devious smile. A soft hand reached up cupping his jaw.

“What a good boy, Tomu,” a tremor passed through his body. You reached over to your nightstand and pulled out the collar you’d taken the selfie in. 

“You know,” the collar danced between your painted nails, “This also came with a leash. I was thinking,” your lust-filled eyes meet his, “If you wanted to be a good boy for me… You’d let me see how pretty it looks around your neck.”

Tomura hesitated, his eyes rapidly moving between your eyes and the collar you held. After a moment of consideration, he nodded. You giggled and clapped your hands together excitedly leaping off the bed. You returned with a short, chain-link leash.

“Now,” you leaned in and fastened the collar around his neck. Your bodies were centimeters apart and Tomura thought he might pass out, “When you’re wearing your collar, you don’t call me Y/N,” you nudge his ear with your nose and whisper, “You call me ‘Mommy.’ Do you understand?” you feel him nod against your face.

“That’s not how good boys answer their Mommy. When you answer me, you say, ‘Yes Mommy’ or ‘No Mommy.’ Is that clear?”

“Y-yes… Mommy.”

“Mmm, what a good boy,” you placed a soft kiss on his neck and he let out the most delicious whimper. You hooked a finger through the ring on the front of the collar, “You’re gonna go sit in Mommy’s gaming chair and let her use you as a toy. Okay?” 

Tomura’s head was spinning and he almost couldn’t answer until you jerked him by his collar, “Y-yes, Mommy. Please, please make me your toy.”

You stood and dragged him over to your chair and made him sit, “What a polite boy you are! Saying ‘please’ without being asked. If you keep that up, you just might get a reward,” his belt buckle rattled as you worked his jeans down his narrow hips. 

A ragged breath escaped his chapped lips as you removed your tiny shorts revealing a black, lace thong. You straddled his lap, your dripping slit hovering a centimeter over the angry, leaking head of his cock. His hands shook as you placed them on your hips and slowly moved your thong to the side. Descending an inch at a time, only teasing his tip, was causing him to come undone underneath you.

“You’re already so close and I’ve only put the tip in. You better be a good boy and not come until I tell you to or you’re going to be punished,” you pushed another couple of inches inside and he nearly wept.

“I-I’m trying, M-mommy! I wanna be a good boy!”

“Mmm, I know, baby. You’re doing so,” another inch, “So…” and another, “Well.” you were fully seated on his cock now. Tomura knew he wouldn’t last. Your velvet walls were sucking him down harder than anything ever had before. It made his fleshlight feel like it was made of sandpaper. You had ruined him for anything else. 

With a few rolls of your hips and some high, airy moans, he was about to bust. “Mommy! Mommy, please! I-I’m g-gonna…”

“Tomu,” your voice was authoritative now, “If you come in Mommy’s pussy, I’m going to make you clean it out with your tongue then I’m going to sit on your face until I come as many times as I want.” your hand wrapped around his throat and you started bouncing on his cock. Your filthy words and aggressive motions catapulted him into an orgasm.

“You bad, BAD boy,” a smack to his cheek broke off his moans, “You disobeyed me! Did you do that on purpose?” your hand around his neck flexes, “Are you just a dirty incel that wants Mommy to get mean with you? Answer, Tomu!”

“Yes, Mommy!”

“Tell Mommy what you are…”

“I-I’m a-a… dirty incel.”

“And what do you want?”

“W-want… want Mommy to b-be mean to me…”

You lift him by the collar and attach the leash. He’s thrown onto the bed and you waste no time hovering your dripping slit over his face.

“Now,” you jerk the leash, “Clean up your mess.”

Tomura knew he should be disgusted right now, but his dick was getting harder by the second. With each lick inside your sloppy hole, he shamelessly moaned against your skin. The vibrations were going straight to your clit, causing you to ride his face harder. This went on until you’d almost reached your peak.

“Oh, baby,” you’re making Mommy feel so, so good, “I-I’m gonna…”

Tomura grabbed your ass and moved you back and forth on his face as he sucked your clit into his mouth. Your orgasm hit hard and fast. You lifted your body giving him a moment to breathe before sitting back down, earning a startled mumble from him.

“Don’t think that’s all,” you laughed and humped his face, making his eyes roll into the back of his head, “Be a good boy and mommy might even let you come…”

Tomura only nodded as he began to eat you again like he was starved. Maybe all the stuff you posted in the Discord server wasn’t so annoying anymore...

[softyoongiionly]

chapstick

based on the time Jungkook said he needed someone to scold him so he’d remember to put lip balm on.

Or 

Jungkook’s had a really long day and the only that can make it better, is seeing you. 

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Genre: fluff, smut, established relationship, jungkook has a man bun idk what else I could possibly want

Warnings: language, explicit smut (18+ only plz), oral (male receiving)

A/N: Hello yes, I am mess. I wrote this in like four hours and it’s unedited but wow wow wow wow I am GOING THROUGH it for Jungkook. Anywayz, I love u. here u go

Jungkook is in a bad mood today.

He’s been awake since 6am, he hasn’t eaten since mid-morning and, he’s been practicing for over 12 hours.

Worst of all, everyone else seems to be in a good mood.  

It’s not that he hates when his hyung's are happy, it’s just that when you’re in a bad mood-  sometimes the shriek of someone’s laughter can feel intrusive.  

“Alright!” Hoseok’s voice hits the practice mirrors and with Jungkook feeling oversensitive, he cringes at the sound of it, “Let’s go again from the top!”

Jungkook sighs through his nose, stretching his sore back for a moment before getting back into formation.

“Jungkook-ah! Push a little harder in the second half ok?!”  

Hoseok is in dance-mode and therefore he has no idea how loud he’s being.

Jungkook purses his lips and nods, taking a deep breath before shaking out his hands.

“Yah! Jungkook?” Hoseok calls, facing the mirror, his eyes searching for Jungkook at the back of the practice room.

“Yeh.” He grunts, barely looking up from the floor.

“Did you hear me?”

He nods, his hands fumbling around in the pockets of his sweatpants, “Push harder in the second half...”

The rest of the boys seem unphased by his uninterested demeanor. They are no stranger to exhaustion.  

“Alright- let’s go.”

For what feels like the 100th time today, Jungkook moves through the routine as if it were second nature. The movements feel robotic and the muscles in his arms are beginning to turn to Jell-O. The strands of his hair are covered with sweat and, he’s thankful for his newly procured undercut for lessening the amount of heat he’d normally feel after working out this long.  

He feels gross though.  

Normally, he enjoys working this hard but today he isn’t feeling it. In fact, the strain between his brows is getting a little painful as he really tries his best not to frown.

The new choreography is intense and as much he likes the challenge- after the 100th time of running through it, he’s starting to get frustrated.

Panting through his nose, he holds his position at the end of the routine before Hoseok finally calls it.

“Yahhhh! That was a lot better huh? You guys did good.” He praises, clapping his hands, “Now go get some water and then we’ll run it again...”

Jungkook sighs hopelessly, letting his head fall back on his shoulders. He cringes at the feeling of sweat collecting on his skin, wanting nothing more than to make it back home to his shower.

Amongst other things...

Grabbing a bottle of water off of the table, Jungkook has to work very hard not to crush the bottle in his hands as he eagerly gulps down what he can. He finishes the bottle in record time and as he reaches for a second one, he pulls his phone out of his pocket to check it.  

Tweety: hiii I hope you’re having a good day! Do you want to takeout tonight? I got caught up at the school and, I didn’t pull anything out.

Jungkook feels his tight chest loosen up a bit as he sees your text come through.

You made a comment one day that he ‘gives off bugs bunny vibes’ and he responded by comparing you to Tweety bird.  

Needless to say, the nicknames are dumb but you guys think they’re cute.  

Bugs: takeout sounds good. I’ll be there late tonight though :/ I hope you had a good day too. Miss u.

Jungkook has just enough time to respond to you before he is wincing at the sound of Hoseok corralling everyone back to the practice floor.

Again, again, again, again, and again...

He’s so tired by the end of the circuit that he’s starting to feel throbbing in his temples. Headaches are a common side effect of over-exertion and just as he is getting ready to beg to go home, they are calling it.

“Ok ok- good job! You’ve worked hard everyone. Let’s rest for a day and then resume on Sunday.”

Jungkook feels his entire body deflate with relief at the last words parading out of Hoseok’s mouth.  

His day is finally over.

He reminds himself to never wear new boots to rehearsal again because he can’t feel the tips of his toes and his fairly certain there are blisters on the of his ankles.  

“Are you riding with me?” Jimin asks him on the way out of the practice room, his voice decorated with exhaustion.

Jungkook doesn’t fully pay attention to his question, his eyes already trained on his phone.

“No, I’m getting my own car.”

Jimin looks confused for a moment before a small smirk comes over his face.

“Are going to see her?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond quick enough, his mouth parted slightly as he types out his message to you.

“Aren’t you worried what people are going to think? You’re over there a lot...”

Jimin isn’t being judgmental with his questioning and Jungkook knows this. He can hear the genuine concern in his voice and understands that his hyung is merely looking out for him.

“I don’t really care what people think anymore.” He answers honestly, ensuring that he keeps his tone as polite as possible.  

Jungkook’s had to worry about the opinions of others since he was 15. As grateful as he is for his career, he is growing tired of being unable to make his own decisions. His gaze hones in on the tattoos covering his fingers and forearms and remembers a time not too long ago where he was required to hide them. Putting a band aids on his own self-expression didn’t feel good and he sort of promised himself that he wouldn’t allow the expectations of others to stop him from doing what he wanted.  

Or seeing who he wanted...

“You’re getting bolder with age.” Jimin notes, somewhat proudly as his eyes flicker over to him, “You really like her, don’t you?”

Tweety: miss u toooooo. I ordered ramen

Bugs: I just got out. I should be there in 20 minutes. I’m so hungry

Jungkook feels his cheeks heat up at Jimin’s question and rather than answer him, he just kind of shrugs, his mouth turned up in a small smirk.  

“Yah, don’t hold out on me-”Jimin bumps his shoulder, tilting his head in an attempt to get him to look his way, “We’ve known each other for how long?”

Jungkook slips his phone back into his pocket and adjusts his bag on his shoulder.

“I think the answer is obvious hyung.”

Jimin rolls his eyes playfully, “If it’s so obvious then why don’t you just say it.”

The two of them lean against the wall of the lobby, waiting on a notification from their drivers that they are outside.

Jungkook bites his lip, in an attempt to reign in the grin that threatens his face.

“I like her.”

Laughter trickles out of Jimin’s lips as he bumps his shoulder, “Why are you shy all of the sudden? Is there something else I don’t know?”

Yes.

There was something else Jimin didn’t know.  

Jungkook hasn’t told a single soul since it happened.  

He’s so incredibly private and after meeting you, he only has more of an urge to keep things to himself.  

“There’s nothing.” Jungkook mutters, his eyes eagerly looking checking his phone for the driver notification.

“You’re lying to me.” Jimin calls him out, “What is it?”

Jungkook shakes his head, tucking a bit of hair behind his ear. He licks over his lips and immediately regrets the fact that he forgot his Chapstick.

How’s he supposed to kiss you, if his lips are chapped?

“Jungkook-ah, tell me-” Jimin whines, tugging on his sleeve.

He merely snickers finally and shrugs him off, shaking his head, “There’s nothing to tell. Why do you think I’m hiding something from you?”

“Because I’ve known you for almost ten years and I-” Jimin begins before a knowing smirk comes over his face, “Wait- you’ve slept with her haven’t you?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen a bit, taken aback by his bold statement, “Someone’s going to hear you, why are you asking questions like this?”

His hyung giggles, deeply satisfied with his discovery, “You have, haven't you?”

Jungkook feels the threat of a smile come over his face again, “Why do you want to know? It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters-” He shoots him a pointed look, “Because we’re best friends? And I want to know. When did it happen?”

Jungkook is feeling a little bit bolder, unable to help the pride he feels that he was finally able to experience an intimate relationship, “Which time?”

Jimin’s eyes widen before he slaps Jungkook on the arm, “Which time??? You’ve done it more than once?”

“Shhh-” Jungkook whisper yells, his brow furrowing, “We’ve been seeing eachother for 6 months. Why do you look so surprised?”

Jimin chuckles this time, glancing behind him, “I just- I don’t know...it was your first time, wasn’t it? I just thought you’d make a bigger deal of it.”

He shrugs again, a smirk still lingering, “It was a big deal- to us. I thought you guys would just figure it out eventually.”

Ever the nosy one, Jimin slinks a little closer to him, a bit of mischief in his eyes, “It’s fun huh?”

Jungkook just rolls his eyes, brushing him off playfully, “I thought I was supposed to be the youngest.”

Jimin ignores his comment and just looks at him expectantly.

Giving up on holding out, Jungkook finally gives him what he wants and replies.

“It was fun.”

Jimin offers his signature bit of laughter again but before he’s able to interrogate him any further, Jungkook finally gets the notification that his driver is here.

“I’ll see you Sunday, hyung.” Jungkook gives him a short wave before adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

Jimin smirks and flutters his fingers in his direction, “Have fun.”

Jungkook just shakes his head, groaning to himself as he finally leaves the building.

Slumping into his seat, he shuts his eyes for a moment and tries his best not to fall asleep. Thankfully, his desire to eat his weight in ramen paired with his desire to see you keeps him from passing out.  

You and Jungkook have been together for a while now and although the initial nerves surrounding seeing him have lessened slightly, you still want to look good for him. Thankfully for you, when it comes to impressing your boyfriend- less is more.  

Slowly but surely, he has revealed his preferences to you but they have slipped out casually. He doesn’t ever want you to feel like you have to look a certain way for him.  

But you do know he likes black.

And you do know he likes when you wear oversized pieces.

The harsh bit of winter also makes dressing in gigantic hoodies and thick socks a lot easier anyhow.  

So you opt for something along the lines of cute but comfy and tend to your hair the easiest way you know how.  

Jungkook also loves it when you don’t wear any makeup. But he’s never told you directly, you’ve just figured out based on the way he gets all starry eyed every time you wash your face at night.  

The ramen is all set up in the living room and you’ve got one of the Christmas movies the two of you started the other day, ready to play.  

By the time you hear a knock at your door, everything is ready for a cozy Friday night with your boyfriend.

Upon opening your door, you are met with the sight of Jungkook- sweaty, soft and slightly sleepy standing there in all of his glory. He’s dressed in grey sweats and a big white t-shirt, his hair tied up messily atop his head. Along with the smell of sweat, you can faintly make out the remnants of his cologne and it stirs something deep inside of you.  

Jungkook’s eyes scan over you briefly, offering a small smile as he leans in to peck your cheek, “Hiiii...”

He sings the greeting, patting your hips as he quickly steps into your apartment.  

“Hello,” You sing back, giggling a bit, “Did you guys just now finish up practicing? Didn’t you start at like 7?”

Jungkook winces as he begins slipping off his big clunky boots, leaning back against your front door, “Yeah. I really thought they were trying to kill me- I did the new dance so many times, I lost count.”

Pouting your lips, you take his bag off his shoulder and hang it up on your coat rack.  

“I’m so sorry.” You murmur, shaking your head, “Did they give you tomorrow off at least?”

At this, Jungkook grins, nodding as he does, “Yeah, I was going to ask you what you were doing tomorrow cause I thought maybe you’d want to hang out. Our night was supposed to start a lot earlier...”

He looks regretful and even slightly annoyed.

He’s been having this issue a lot lately where his prior obligations and engagements seem to mean nothing to his directors, which never used to be a big deal but, now that he has you in his life- he never wants to let you down.

“I’m free all day-” You reply happily, before narrowing your eyes at him, “I have one condition though-”

Jungkook looks intrigued, cocking his head as he steps forward, “What’s your condition?”

“I need one of these...” Pointing to your lips, you pucker them and make grabby hands at your boyfriend.

He laughs softly, shaking his head as he closes the space between you, “I just got here and you’re already using kisses as collateral now huh?” His voice gets a little lower and before you can reply, his gently places his lips on yours, sighing out through his nose as his flutter shut.

Once he starts kissing you, you aren’t really able to think of a coherent response. Leaning into him, you hum lightly in your throat, tucking your lips between his.  

However, when you attempt to slide your hand up the exposed skin of his arm, he winces and pulls away.

Groaning, you can’t help but giggle, “I know- I know... ‘babe, I’m too sweaty. Let me just shower really quick and then I’ll promise, I'll kiss you so much better’...”

At your attempt to imitate his voice, Jungkook starts laughing- cute nose scrunched up with delight.

He kisses his teeth, “You know me too well. I’ll be right back.”

Jungkook leans in again and kisses you on the cheek before disappearing into your bathroom moments later

After his showering, he comes out in a baggy t-shirt and some sweats, his hair freshly blow dried and piled up on his head in a messy bun.  

He scarfs down his dinner in record time before the two of you settle back against the couch.  

You can feel him looking at you as you giggle at the TV but he doesn’t let his eyes linger very long. He just kind of stares for a moment before simply tightening his grip around your shoulders. He feels so warm beside you that you seriously wonder how long you’ll be able to stay awake with him being the human equivalent of a weighted blanket.  

When your laughter erupts again, Jungkook leans in to pop a kiss on your check, which broadens your smile that much more. It’s only for a moment before he turns back to the TV, seemingly satisfied with his actions. However, you decide to return the favor and smoosh your lips against his face, eliciting a snicker from his throat.  

You snuggle into him more, grabbing his arm that’s resting on the couch beside you and wrapping it around so that his hand is resting your lap. Leaning your head against his chest, you slowly began tracing over the markings on his skin lightly brushing your nails against each unique line. Jungkook’s eyes are trained on the TV and despite his blank expression, you can see the goosebumps forming on his skin.  

Regardless, you just keep going, allowing your fingertips to trace over the letters adorning his hand. Using your nails, you trace between each of his fingers, before interlocking them your own. Once you’re holding hands, Jungkook squeezes slightly, brushing his thumb along your skin which then prompts you to finally to turn to the side and look at him.  

He grins softly, still not glancing your way but choosing to offer a playful comment instead, “You’re not watching the movie...”

You laugh softly, reaching out with your free hand and tilting his face towards you.

“We’ve watched this movie four times-” You retort, “Besides I’m pretty sure I remember you promising me that you’d kiss me properly once you were out of the shower.”

Jungkook’s grin broadens, his doe-eyes alight with defiance, “I’m pretty sure you promised yourself that for me- I don’t remember agreeing to it.”

You scoff in mock offense, “Damn ok. So it’s like that huh? I buy you ramen and yet this is how I’m treated. I’m calling the UN...”

Jungkook laughs a little harder now, the sound a little sharp but intensely endearing, “It’s that serious for you?”

Pouting, you nod, “It is that serious.” You’re about to say something else before you brush your thumb over his lips and notice the dryness there, “Did you remember to bring your chapstick today?”

He immediately sucks his lips between his teeth and given that his ability to speak is no compromsied he simply nods, his eyes wide with false innocence.

“Mhmmm.” He lies

“No you didn’t!” You exclaim, laughing a bit as you press your thumb against the thin line of his mouth, “Babe, it’s so cold outside- your lips are going to start cracking.”

Unfurling his lips, he lets his head fall back on his shoulders, “I know, I know-” He whines playfully before his head snaps back up to yours, the same glint remaining in his gaze, “You have some right?”

You roll your eyes, “You know that I do.”

He snickers, quickly leaning in to kiss your cheek, “Can I have some then?”

Playfully shoving him off, you rise from the couch and shake your head, “I’m giving you one to keep in your rehearsal bag,” You shuffle over to your bathroom, “You better use it!”

He laughs as he hears your demand echo down the hallway before calling back, “Hurry jagi! They are so dry- I can feel them! They are so close to cracking!”

Seconds later, your hurling one of your many lip balms into his lap which he catches just before it hits him.

“Put it on...” You demand pointedly and he shakes his head.

“I don’t think I can-” He sighs dramatically, holding the lip balm out to you, “You have to do it- all of the moisture in my body is slowly fading away...my lips are trying to suck it all up.”

Giggling, you cross your arms, shaking your head, “That makes absolutely no sense.”

“Y/N! Please!” Jungkook chokes out, “Before I waste away...the winter-” His eyes bug out of his head, as his hand clutches his chest, “the winter jagi- it's going to dry me out completely.”

Finally snapping, you grab the Chapstick out of his hands before asserting yourself into his lap. He laughs, resting his head against the couch cushions whilst his hands sneakily find their way to your hips.

“You’re so annoying...” You grumble, still giggling yourself as he puckers his lips dramatically.

“I’m only following your recommendations.” He insists, making kissy noises at you, “Balm me up baby.”

Uncapping the chapstick, you press your chest against his before starting to drag it over his lips. As you get to work on helping him, his mischievous gaze slowly softens until he’s looking up at you with stars in his eyes. Carefully, you make sure every inch of his mouth is covered with balm, paying special attention to the corners and his lower lip. As you finish up, you put the cap back on set on the couch cushion.

He rubs his lips together, humming in satisfaction.

You smirk, “Better?”

Jungkook nods his Adams’ apple bobbing in his throat as he feels you shift on his hips.  

“Make sure.” He murmurs, puckering his lips, his eyes starting to swim with arousal.

You lean in, unable to refuse him before capturing his mouth in a kiss. Rotating your head, you slowly deepen the connection between your lips, drawing a sigh from the boy beneath you. You can feel his thumbs rub ever so gently against the back of your hips as he leans fully back so that your chest is resting on his.

He nudges your nose, allowing his tongue to brush against the bottom of your top lip, requesting entrance into your mouth. You accept him, licking along his tongue, a shiver running up your spine as he sucks slightly on the top of you.  

Jungkook really is a filthy kisser but you’d never guess by just looking at him.  

He’s quite sure his face is growing numb, his only focus on the way you’re making him feel and a somewhat annoying pain on the back of his head. His ponytail is digging against the wall, causing unnecessary discomfort to wash over him. Still kissing you, he reaches behind his head to pull the hair tie out, allowing his hair to fall freely around his face. You take the opportunity to slide your fingers between the strands, scratching gently at his scalp and causing a slightly shaky breath to leave his lips.  

He loves when you play with his hair.  

You use both hands now to tuck it behind his ear before using them to slide down the length of his arms. Finding his hands on your hips, you lace your fingers with his and bring them back up so they are pinned against either side of his head.  

The making out didn’t get him fully hard but as soon as he feels his hands pinned against the head of the couch, he feels his dick twitch almost painfully in his sweatpants.  

Smirking into his mouth, you delight in the sudden halt to his breathing. Subtly, he pushes his hips up a bit when you start kissing your way down his chin and throat. Jungkook summons all the resolve he has and goes perfectly still when you start placing soft kisses along the expanse of his throat. You feel the ache between your legs worsen when you feel his fingers tightening against yours. Jungkook is a very sensitive person, both emotionally and physically. Over the time you’ve become intimate, you’ve slowly uncovered all the little spots that drive him crazy.  

And you’re determined to kiss every single one.  

“You had a hard day huh?” You murmur sweetly, kissing up the right side of his neck.

All he does is nod, his eyes falling shut as he feels your lips getting closer to his earlobe.  

Placing another kiss at his hairline, you slowly kiss along the bottom half of his ear before capturing it between your teeth.

His breath immediately leaves his lips in a shaky mess, his eyes squeezing together as the grip on your hands tightens.

“I think I should help you relax after you’ve worked so hard don’t you?”

He has no idea what you plan to do to him but, he honestly couldn’t give a fuck.  

He’s too hard, too wound up and too into to you to ask any meaningful questions.  

Jungkook merely nods, not trusting his vocal abilities at the moment as he waits for your next move.  

A smirk comes across your face as you suckle lightly on his earlobe, knowing how much he likes it before using your lips to descend back down his neck.  

You lean away from him to get a closer look at his expression. Smoothed out in pure pleasure but also tightening slightly at the discomfort brought on by his throbbing dick.  

His eyes are still closed as you release your grip on his hands and he keeps them that way even as you move to grip the hem of his t-shirt.  

“Are you falling asleep on me?” You tease and he merely grins, shaking his head.

“Then why are your eyes closed?”

He doesn’t open them and instead allows a breathless bit of laughter to leave his lips, sound almost exasperated.

“I feel dizzy.”

His simple responses elicits another desire within you that intensifies your goal to make him feel good.  

“In a good way?” You check, playfully pinching his stomach as you slowly pull up his t-shirt.

He goes back to nodding, his hands coming down to assist you with your task. His hair flops haphazardly as the material of his shirt messes with it. You take a moment to admire how incredibly beautiful he is when he settles back against the couch, your mouth going dry at the sight of him. Flushed face, pouted lips, defined muscles and hardened nipples lay before you, and you are a little unsure of where to put your lips first.

Although it doesn’t really matter, your destination is the same regardless.  

Deciding on another spot that drives him crazy, you allow your fingers to brush along his ribs before leaning in to kiss over his defined chest. Jungkook’s hands are laying limp against the couch but when he feels your lips nearing his nipple, he turns them so they are able to grip the edge of the couch. Sucking his nipple into your mouth, you let you tongue rub against the peak of it. Jungkook sighs loudly from above you and you can’t help but smirk as he still doesn’t allow himself to moan.  

It’s a quirk you’ve noticed and you feel like it’s likely left over from the long-discarded idea that Jungkook has regarding his masculinity. No matter how often you tell him that making noise is perfectly ok (and really hot) he still waits till he can’t help himself.  

And to be honest, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy pushing him towards that point.  

After you finish kissing his chest, you begin trailing your wet lips down the middle of torso, taking a moment to suck over the soft skin of his not so softly defined stomach.

“All those hours in the gym are really paying off-” You mumble against his skin, brushing your fingers over his abs, “You look so strong...”

At your compliment, his lips part, one side of his mouth turning up in a slight smile.

“I wanna look good for you.”

It’s quite a ridiculous statement really.  

Jungkook would look good no matter how many visible abs he had but you know he likes the praise none the less.  

So you shower him with it.

“You always look good for me.” You assure him, kissing along the band of his sweatpants now, “I’m proud of you for working so hard.”

He grins a little more, leaving his eyes mostly close but allowing them to peak open a bit to watch you sink to your knees.  

“Thank you.”

He swallows back the threat of hyperventilation as he feels you spread his legs, his eyes closing completely once again.  

If you weren’t able to make out the sound of his breath picking up, the movement of us chest certainly would have given it away, his pecks heaving a bit as he tries to relax.  

But as you begin gently massaging up his legs, Jungkook realizes relaxing might not be possible.  

At least not at the moment...

He’s stained the seam of his sweatpants with precum which would upset him if it were any other substance but with his dick being so hard, he really can’t find himself to care about anything else.

Tucking your fingers beneath his sweatpants, you begin tugging them off of his hips, relieved that he isn’t wearing any underwear.

Jungkook takes another deep and shaky breath through his nose, tilting his head back again as he tries to center his thinking.

But you’re kind of driving him insane.  

Starting at his knee, you kiss all the way up his inner thigh, taking in the scent of his body- indescribable and mouthwatering, just like him. You stop just before his dick before repeating your actions along the other leg.  

Jungkook’s stomach is caving in at the teasing but he does absolutely nothing to urge you further.  

He likes the torture.  

“Is there anything you want me to do while I'm down here?”  

Jungkook bites his bottom lip at your question, knowing that you’re going to make him ask for it but feeling shy regardless.

“Yes.” He breathes  

You brush your fingertips over his balls, his hips only slightly twitching at the sensation.

He’s trying to stay calm, not wanting to get so ahead of himself he blows his load before you’ve even started.  

“What is it that you want me to do?” You murmur, leaning in to breathe against his length.

You’re expecting him to stall and use every other word to ask for what he wants but instead, he surprises you.

“Suck on it...” He whispers, taking a deep breath before exhaling on the word, “...please.”

Smirking to yourself, you wrap a hand around him- feeling him throb within your grip before kitten licking over the tip of him. After ridding his dick of all the precum, you decide to end his descent into madness and suck him into your mouth.  

You start slow, licking up and down the length of him, your core aching at the taste. Jungkook’s nails are digging into the couch cushions as he feels your movements, his teeth starting to chew on the inside of his bottom lip.

Bringing your hand into the mix, you guide a flexible grip up and down up, using your lips to suck on the tip of him, your tongue tracing the curves of his frenulum.  

Jungkook’s lips part in awe as he feels the combination of moves on his dick, his toes curling against the shag carpet. He knows that his vision will be swimming but he wants to watch you so badly, he decides to finally open his eyes.  

As he predicted, his vision is spotty and the dizziness he felt earlier is nothing compared to the way he feels now.  

It all becomes irrelevant though when he locks eyes with you. Your boyfriends normally innocent gaze is completely glossed over with lust, his mouth hanging open as he stares down at you, the same smirk slowly returning to his lips.  

Sucking off of him, you use your hand to jerk him off as you address him, “Does it feel good?”

He bites his lip, his face and chest decorated with the flush of arousal as he nods.

“Why are you so quiet then?”  

For whatever reason, your question tickles him and drunken giggle bubbles up past his lips,

“’ss too good.” He explains, shaking his head at you, “I don’t know how to say anything...”

Logically, he understands that you aren’t talking about him necessarily saying anything but more so referring to the lack of noise he’s making. However, he knows very well that he’s going to be moaning for you soon, especially when your mouth returns to his dick a second time.  

When he feels you palm his balls, his eyes fall shut again, his hips twitching all over the place when you resume both sucking and jerking him off.  

Jungkook knows he’s biting his lip really hard when he starts to taste a bit of blood but he doesn’t care, the pleasure he’s experiencing overpowering any semblance of pain.  

“Y/N” He whispers, “I’m getting really close.”

His warning makes you swoon because he sounds so desperate and yet he’s being considerate, not wanting to intrude your mouth with the taste of him.  

Despite the fact that, that’s all you want.  

You merely moan against his length, signaling for him to let go whenever he wants, your speed increasing all the while.  

“Fuck...” He whispers again but the word sounds like it got caught in his throat, “Fuck...fuck...fuck.”

Hearing him swear makes the wet disaster in your shorts much worse but you wanna make him cum so badly, you ignore it completely. The sound of him nearing the edge is enough to take him all the way in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him harder.

Finally, he breaks- a whimpering skipping past his lips, one of his hands coming up to cover his mouth. As much as you want him to moan for you, you don’t want to stop your motions long enough to tell him.  

He throws his head back against the headrest, his eyes opening wide as he stares up at the ceiling in amazement. His body jerks as the first wave of his release hits your tongue and rope after rope, you swallow everything he gives you, sucking him through his orgasm and until the sensitivity becomes too much and he starts squirming beneath you.  

You suck off of him, allowing his softening length to rest against his lower stomach, which is now trembling with his heavy breath.

Jungkook pants, still staring him at the ceiling and while he’s coming down, you kiss along his hips, letting him take his time. Whilst you’re kissing up his happy trail, one of his hands reaches out to brush over your face. Its then you notice that it’s clammy and a bit shaky so, you take a moment to press a kiss over his knuckles, trying to encourage him to look at you.

“You’re shaking.” You whisper and before you know it, you can hear that same drunken giggle coming from his lips again.

Your boyfriend looks down at you, a deep sense of amazement in his eyes as he laughs still, a bit delirious.

“Yeah well-” He shakes his head, still trying to get his wits about him, “You should have a talk with your mouth about that...”

You giggle now, resting your chin on your hand as you admire how fucked-out he looks. His hair is a mess and he is covered in a light layer of sweat and if you’re being honest, you really want to jump his bones all over again. But you know he needs a minute.

“I just wanted to help you relax.” You claim innocently to which he just shakes his head, gesturing for you to get on the couch.

“Come here.”

You scramble up towards him, sitting beside his exhausted body and before you know it, he’s pulling in for a kiss, his smile creeping back when he feels your lips.

“You’re amazing.”

He sounds silly but sincere all at once, kissing softly at your lips before nudging your nose.

You smile back into the kiss, mumbling something of the same nature to him.  

The two of you kiss one another for a moment until Jungkook is pulling back, allowing his dark gaze to scan over your face, eyes suddenly full of determination.

“I think it’s time you relax too now, don’t you think?”

[clementinesjourney]

Record Shop Funk - Pt. 1 Like real people do

A.N. : Hey guys, so i had this idea yesterday, and i really hope you'll like it. <3

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Words: 1,9k

Pairing: camboy!Steve x Reader, roommate!Bucky x reader, Stucky x reader (as the story goes)

Warnings: nothing yet :)

Summary: Who knew that having a secret crush, then a hearbreak will end in such a sweet thing..

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

You and Bucky shared an apartment above the recordshop you both worked in. Your aunt was the owner of both, so it was a fairly good payment, and a fairly good apartment for a cheap price. It was a bright and big apartment with two bedrooms, so your decided to rent it out, all while searching for a helper to the shop downstairs. When Bucky came in applying for the job, you asked out of joke if he needs a place to live since you had seen around 5 people already and none of them felt right. His eyes lit up as he said he is in fact looking for a place. Since he was fitting for a job, and looked like a decent guy, you congratulated him on his new job, and asked if he wants to see the place today. You still had one and a half hour to close, but after it you would gladly show him the apartment.

He had nothing better to do, so he agreed to it, feeling happy about having a job he might actually like and a coworker he might actually will get along with.

-Do you drink coffee? I was thinking of getting one in the meantime. My friend works close by, and they make the best coffee in town. - He asked.

-I could go for one thank you - you smiled at him - iced cold-brew, no sugar, i'm sweet enough.. - you said with a smile.

He couldn't help but smile back at the joke. When he arrived at the café, he saw his friend Steve flirting with a girl whom he could visibly see trembling just cause he talked to her. Steve always had his way with girls, ever since the serum of course. After he broke up with Peggy, it was mostly just hookups, never finding a girl worth keeping around. Not as if they werent kind, pretty or good to him, it just never felt right. Bucky smiled at his friend, Steve immediately shifted his gaze from the girl, to a very happy Bucky.

-Did you get the job?

-Better.. I got the job, and she has a room for rent which i'll see tonight.

-Wow Bucky, i didn't know you were even better then i am.. sooo how does she look? - asked Steve with a slight wiggle of his eyebrows. He wanted Bucky to get a girl since ages and hearing this, his mind immediately ventured there.

-5'7, ginger, green eyes, freckles, curvy just the right places. why?

-Nothing Buck.. nothing.. - Steve said smirking at his friend.. Bucky never realized when he liked a girl, so he never really acted on it. He last had a woman back in the 40's.

-Sooo i know you didn't come to have chat with me, one black coffee and.. ?

-ah, iced cold-brew, no sugar..

After paying for the coffee, he hurried back to the shop, hoping to get to know his coworker a little bit better.

You thanked him for the coffee, and when you tried to pay, he refused.

-Next round's mine then. - You smiled at him with your 1000 watt smile, which again he couldn't help but smile back at.

-So tell me about you Bucky, what do you do in your freetime?

-Nothing really, just reading, spending time with my friends, kind of thats it.. I have a boring life really. What about you?

-Well, i work here, then i go home and listen to music, cook, god i love to cook, thats a big pro for the apartment.. just saying. - you said with a playful wink. - besides that nothing much. Sometimes i go to a nearby bar with my friends maybe concerts and thats it.

-I like washing dishes if that helps with the application for the room. - he said with a shy laugh which made your heart skip a beat.

- It sure does.. Do you leave your stuff around?

-No i'm a tidy person.. thank you very much. - he said cockily (just for the sake of being funny really).

-Okay okay, if you like it you can have the room, just promise to tell if you bring up a girl so i can leave. The walls are kind of thin.

-It's okay, i don't really...

-Oh um i'm sorry, i didn't meant to intrude, it just something i would really like everyone to add to their rental contracts. - you chuckled embarassed.

-Noo no, it's okay, i'm not embarassed by it. I guess i don't want hook ups, if one day there's someone i'll tell in advance.

-yea me too, i promise. If you end up renting it anyway haha. on that note it's time to close so i can show the room in a min.

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

When you opened the door to the apartment Buckyquietly took in it all. It was really bright, white walls with paintings all over the walls, plants in every corner or shelf you can put one on, a comfy looking mustard couch, aztec-y rug under the coffeetable, and a wall fully shelved, filled with books and little trinkets, it looked like a home he never had a chance to have. The livingroom had an american kitchen on the side, island in the middle of the kitchen area, it was white, and blue which reminded him of greece, down the hallway you showed him the bathroom which of course had a lot of plants that liked the atmosphere of a bathroom, a shower in the corner and a bathtub under the window. You then showed the empty room he could rent out. It only had a shelf and a wardrobe, and a queen sized bed. No decorations, no signs of anybody ever living there. You then pointed to the room the opposit of what could possibly be Bucky's in the future, saying that is yours. You didn't show your room, he wasn't gonna go in there anyway, and showing your most private space on the first day didn't seem like a good idea either. You then invited him out to the balcony, watching the setting sun, smoking a cigarette.

-So thats about it, what do you think?

-I really like it, and i mean.. my workplace is pretty close so thats a plus, also you said something about cooking all the time.. sooo if it's alright with you i would love to rent it out.

-It's settled then roomie. I'll give you the keys, you can move in whenever you want to. Tomorrow we are closed, so maybe that would be ideal.

-Yea, then tomorrow it is then. I'll ask my friend to help, then we can maybe hang a bit if you're free.

-Sure, i have nothing planned, and it's good to know who i'll be living with. - you said with a smile.

Before closing the door, you said your goodbyes, and you realized what did you just do, after he wished you good night with a killer halfsmile that almost had your knees buckle. You just agreed to living together with possibly the most handsome man you've ever seen who is also your new coworker, so you will basically spend most of your time with him.. Guess we'll see how this goes you thought to yourself.

Morning came soon enough, you were sitting out on the balcony when you saw Bucky arrive with a very tall, just as handsome man, carrying boxes of books, and bags of clothing. Bucky looked up at the balcony, waving towards you, you waved back, then moved to open the front door before going back out to the balcony, resuming your coffee and smoke.

When they finished bringing all Bucky's stuff in, it was already midday, so you decided you'd order pizza for all of you, as in like a welcome present.

-Hey guys, i'm thinking of ordering pizza, what kind would you like?

-Oh (y/n) you don't have to. - said Bucky, earning a smirk from Steve as he looked back and forth between you two.

- Noo i insist, today won't be the day i'll start to slowly kill you with my cooking. - you said giggling a bit.

- Whatever's fine peach. - said Steve with a wink, that you decided was just out of friendlyness. You didn't veen knew his name, and he seemed like a lady's man anyways. Not really your type no matter how handsome and muscular he is.

- Steve, by the way, nice to meet you.

-(Y/n), likewise. - you shook his hand.

When the pizzas arrived you called them to the kitchen, listening to all their shared stories from their early years. They seemed like really close friends, and genuinely good people. You had a really great time. It was nearly 9 pm when Steve left, for saving a dame from dying cause of boredom he said. You and Bucky chuckled, then he let him out, closing the door, locking it for the night.

-I guess i have some packing to do, so.. good night (y/n).

-Good night Bucky, if you need anything just knock. - you said with a smile, and he couldn't help but smile back. He felt at peace. He had Steve, now he had a job, and a room to make a home of, and you as a new addition. You were so kind, so eager to help if he needed anything, he loved how the scent of raspberries and flowers lingered in the apartment mixed with coffee and cigarette smoke. It seemed to have a calming effect on him.

You heard a soft knock half an hour later. WHen you opened the door you saw a smiling Bucky, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

- Hey, um.. sorry. I forgot i didn't bring a blanket, could i borrow one until i get my own?

-Yea sure, i'll get one in a min. - You said, leaving the door open, letting him see a bit of "you" while you were searching for your spare blanket in your wardrobe. The room really was you. White, with mustardy curtains on the window, plants everywhere, books piled up here and there, a really comfy looking bed, pictures of you and your friends on the walls. And damn, your room smelled even more like you. If he wouldn't pay attention your scent would lure him into your room and never let him leave he thought.

-There you go. - you handed him the blanket smiling.

-Thank you very much.

Then he stood there for a moment drinking in the sight of you in front of him. You were wearing an oversized tshirt, that ended just around the middle of your thighs, hair in a messy bun, no makeup. He could swear he thought you were pretty before, but seeing you as you were made him fancy you even more.

With a small smile you told him goodnight again, then closed the door in his face.

You could hear his little laugh on the other side of the door, then his door closing. For the first time in months he didn't wake up in the middle of the night, and he didn't had a nightmare either. He was afraid he would, and then he would wake you up with his screaming, but looks like the blanket which smelled just like you calmed him enough.

After waking up because the rays of sunshine on his face, he smiled to himself guess i'll wait with getting my own blanket then...

[sweeethinny]

Come and sit a while with me

It's been a year since I started all of this, that I wrote a fanfic to celebrate Ginny's birthday, and here I am, posting once again, keeping the tradition <3

This story will deal with grief, suicidal thoughts, but it has a happy ending, I swear

Happy birthday, Ginny.

AO3 | FF. NET | SIYE

----------

It was a normal afternoon at the Potters' house, Ginny wasn't working today and the kids were on vacation, James had gone out with friends, Lily was at the pool with her friends, and she and Albus were enjoying their free time before they had to get ready to go out to dinner and celebrate Ginny's birthday, so they lay on the sofa in the living room, both of them with moisturizing masks on their faces and hair, and the TV on.

The perfect day for her, if she was sincere.

"Mom," Albus muttered, looking at her curiously. "When did you know you loved dad?"

''I always loved your dad.''

''No… when did you know you really love him?'' Albus looked at her, his hair in a bun and his green eyes staring at her in the same way he had since he was born, as if he wanted to know the whole truth, and not half lies. "I mean, when did you look at him and realize he wasn't just another one?"

''Let me see…'' Ginny changed the channel when the movie ended, trying not to smile at the memory. ''I guess I never thought he was just another one, but there was a specific day when I was sure he was the one I wanted to marry…''

August 11, 1998

Ginny loved birthdays, it was simply her favorite date, along with Christmas.

How could anyone not be happy on the day that was entirely and unique to them? Everything revolved around her: the cake, the celebration, the attention, everything. It was her day, the day that Ginny didn't share with anyone, and even though she sometimes felt a bit of a bitch about it, she was glad none of her brothers were born on the same day as her..

She didn't want to have to share this too.

But today wasn't that happy day. Today wasn't sunny and as much as Molly had become more involved in her garden, Ginny's favorite flowers hadn't bloomed in time, as if they knew she was in mourning.

It was the first time that someone would be missing at the party.

Even Charlie called her over the Floo so everyone could sing together and celebrate, but today, it would be eight Weasleys for the first time, not nine. And Ginny didn't know how to deal with that, with that pain that seemed to consume her in every way, and that made her close the bedroom curtains and hide under the covers because she was exhausted.

Exhausted from fighting. Of having to be strong. Not being able to afford the privilege of just crying and admitting it hurt. It hurt a lot. At times it seemed almost impossible to bear. Ginny wanted for the first time in a long while, someone to take over things for her, letting her sleep and cry freely, without judgment, without trying to fix what was broken.

She didn't want a solution.

But she couldn't do that, Molly was doing her best to make this date happy, so that Ginny would realize that there was reason to celebrate, that Fred wouldn't want her to spend all day in her room. She also thought this was unfair, because Fred didn't have to bury one of them, Fred didn't have to go through grief, he never faced that pain, so what would he know?

Ginny knew. She knew what it was like to want to die every day since he died, she was the one who felt this agonizing loneliness that seemed to get bigger every day, she was the one who lay in bed at night and thought she could go crazy at any time because it hurt so much and it was so exhausting.

"May I come in?" A knock on her door made her jump as she tried to hide her dark circles with some of the makeup she had on, and his voice made her curse herself for still being in her pajamas.

''Yes.'' She tried to hide her nervousness because things were still a little awkward between her and Harry, even though she had kissed him a few days after the war ended, on the sofa in the living room in the middle of the night, when her room looked very cold and lonely, and Harry looked so cute wearing plaid pajamas and with his hair cut.

He clearly blamed himself for Fred's death, and Ginny still hadn't gotten over all the latest events: the Carrows' tortures, the war, the deaths, Fred…

Ginny had certain doubts, even though she didn't like to think about it, that they would last.

Maybe they were that couple that everyone looks at and says 'what if life had been different with these two?', figuring they could be something more if there hadn't been so much destruction in their midst.

"Happy birthday." Harry still looked tired, he hadn't regained his weight, but he was already showing signs of improvement, which was good. Ginny was happy to see him look good.

He was wearing the outfit she helped him buy for his birthday when they, Ron and Mione went for a walk in Muggle London. A light blue T-shirt, dark jeans, and black sneakers. A simple outfit, no big deal, but one that seemed to make him look even more handsome, if that was even possible.

The woman who would marry him would be very lucky, Ginny thought.

''Brought it for you.'' She hadn't even noticed that he had his hands behind his back, looking nervous as he showed her a bouquet of honeysuckle, tied with a red satin bow, and a cream-colored card pinned there with his name signed. "I know they're your favorites, and I thought you'd like it." He smiled awkwardly. "I noticed yours didn't bloom this year, and I thought you might want to continue the tradition."

"You didn't have to worry about that." Ginny had to swallow hard to keep from crying in front of him, even though there wasn't a reason to.

"Of course I did, it's your birthday, I want to see you happy." Harry shrugged, his cheeks flushing as if he'd been out in the sun for hours on end. He was so cute, Ginny wished she didn't like him so much, because that way, when their imminent separation came, it wouldn't hurt so much. ''How is your day? I don't want to spoil the surprise, but I think your mom made your favorite cake.''

"It's okay, as far as possible," she shrugged. "Mom is trying to keep me away from the kitchen and all the preparation, so I decided to stay in the bedroom."

''Are you going to be here until party time?'' She thought Harry would start the same speech Hermione gave her when she said she was going to do it, which was the same as Bill and his father: Fred wouldn't like it. Besides, you need to celebrate that you're alive, enjoy life…

Ginny was ready to fight with him, just as she had with the three of them.

"Is there a problem?" Ginny crossed her arms, careful not to crush the flowers.

Harry was bigger than her, but that wouldn't stop her from kicking him out if necessary.

''No. Want company?" Harry looked sincere though. "We can assemble that puzzle you bought, remember?"

''Do you want to stay here? Assembling a puzzle?' Ginny followed Harry as he walked around her room as if the surroundings had been familiar to him for years already, looking for the box on her shelves, which was a total mess of old books, photos and other stuff.

"Of course, it's your day, we'll do whatever you want, ma'am."

August 11, 2021

''How did you know you loved him? Because he wants to assemble a puzzle with you?" Albus asked, no longer paying attention to the TV.

''No and yes. See, unlike everyone else that day, your dad respected my grief. He didn't try to make me go outside, see the bright side of things, nothing. He just stayed there with me, accepting that on that day, I wanted to stay inside my room, putting together a puzzle… He paid attention to the flowers I liked, in the cake." Ginny smiled. "That dawn, after everyone else went to sleep, I finally managed to cry, and son, it's a pain I can't put into words." She swallowed, not wanting to get emotional. ''Over time it gets a little easier, but that year, it was a pain that seemed to tear my chest apart. And do you know what your dad did? He sat with me, hugged me, and listened to me cry for an hour, not saying anything, just standing there by my side.''

The memory was no longer as painful as it had been, and Ginny allowed herself to smile as the image of Harry lying beside her on the bed, his arms around her waist, came back to her mind.

"He never tried to save me, he just stayed there with me, helping me when I needed it, and that was the most important thing."

"He saved you in the chamber," Albus remembered, a mischievous smile on his lips that reminded her of Fred when he was younger. Ginny didn't even know it was possible, but it was always the image that came to her mind when she saw Albus smile like that.

"It was a different situation." She shrugged.

"Did you doubt you would marry him after that day?"

"Never again." And it was true. ''Since that morning, when I woke up and he was still sleeping with me after I cried and sobbed things I don't even remember anymore, I knew he was the one I would marry.'' Ginny touched the ring that was already on her finger for over twenty years now, still smiling like a fool as she remembers the marriage proposal and the marriage itself.

"And why weren't you sure you'd be with him before that?"

''It's not that I wasn't sure, it's just that when you go through something really bad, everything around you seems to fall apart together, it's like nothing else has a solution and you are bound to fail whatever you try. It's a horrible feeling, I hope you never feel that.'' Ginny shifted on the couch to give him a closer look. ''Why this now?''

"Just curiosity." Albus smiled, his cheeks a little flushed. "Happy birthday again, Mom, I love you so much." He kissed her forehead, as she usually did.

''I love you too, my love.''

[sunnysviolin]

Omotober Day Five- Photograph

“That's the thing about trust. It's like broken glass. You can put it back together, but the cracks are always visible--like scars that never fully heal.” ― Hope Collier,

Aubrey was almost out the door when her mother dropped the bombshell on her. Usually her mom wasn’t even awake when she was leaving for school, she was still sleeping off whatever bender she had gone on the night before. She was up today, in a stained robe with unkempt hair, but she was up.

“We’re going to visit Flora for dinner tonight. Go home on Basil’s bus, I don’t want you trying to skip out on this,” Past Aubrey would have been elated. Not only was her mom up, but they were going to see her best friend for dinner. Now she growled in irritation and rolled her eyes.

“Mom-”

“Aubrey, don’t even think about starting up,” Her mother cut her off with a warning look. Aubrey shut her mouth but hot anger lit up in her veins. She bit her tongue to stop from screaming as her mother continued her lecturing, “That woman is old and her time is coming soon. Respect thy elders, it’s the godly thing to do,”

The hypocrisy of it filled Aubrey’s mouth with poison, and she balled her hands into fists to stop them from shaking. Her mom loved to spout religious crap like this all the time, acting like saying scripture somehow equated to being a good person. Aubrey would have loved to ask her what part of her oh so precious book told her that getting drunk every night was godly, but if she started that fight again she would never make it to school on time.

“Whatever,” Aubrey muttered in lieu of her actual thoughts, pushing past her mother and out the front door. Her mother’s little lecture had taken long enough that the bus stop was completely empty, and that only made Aubrey’s mood even worse. She seized her scooter and whipped it around, putting all of her mental frustration into the physical act of riding to school and away from her house as fast as possible.

The ride did nothing to alleviate Aubrey’s anger and a dark storm cloud hung around her through every period. Students gave her a wide berth and teachers looked at her with distrustful eyes. They were all expecting something to happen, and she hated them for it. They always expected the worst of her. Kel had tried approaching her during their shared study hall, and she ignored him till he left. He wasn’t a true friend, he didn’t really care about her. Aubrey had to remember that, or she would fall for his tricks again.

By the end of the day, Aubrey was exhausted. To the rest of the world, she seemed just as bitter and angry as she was when she got to school, but it was just an easy front that she put out to keep them all away. Truthfully, she just wanted to go home, climb the stairs to her room, and curl up with her bunny (). She wanted to block out the world and all of the fake people in it, forget about false friends and the never ending loneliness that threatened to crush her at any point.

She couldn’t. She had to go to Basil’s.

She found Basil waiting outside, off in a corner. He was standing slightly hunched over, like he was trying to disappear right where he stood. Absolutely pathetic, but that was Basil. A weakling who had used Aubrey. Kel was with him, clearly talking at Basil and not to him. Basil wasn’t even paying attention, just staring off at the trees and playing with his fingers the way Aubrey hated. She walked over in long purposeful strides, putting herself in the middle between the two boys.

“Get lost,” Aubrey snapped, hoping that Kel would argue right back with her. It would be a good outlet, something that would get rid of the storm cloud. Basil was no fun to fight with, he just cried and apologized. At least Kel would do it properly.

But luck was not on her side. Kel didn’t fire back with a harsh retort or even give her a glare. He just sighed and rolled his eyes, something that instantly set alarm bells of resentment ringing in her head. She hated when he acted higher and mightier, rising above her like he was too good to fight with her. It was the same as her mother’s religious rambling, just another hypocrite who thought they were better than they were and judged Aubrey for not playing their game.

“I’ll see you later, Basil ,” Kel said, deliberately putting emphasis on ignoring that Aubrey even existed. The urge to kick out his legs and pound him into the dirt was overwhelming, but the sound of the buses starting to rumble cut off that train before it left the station. She growled and yanked Basil along with her by the wrist, walking over to his bus and climbing the high steps. Aubrey practically threw him into an open three seater and launched her bag in after, sitting as close to the aisle as she could and as far away from him as possible.

She didn’t want them, but as she sat on the bus with her former oldest friend, memories of all the times they had done this before came to her one by one. They had always chosen a two seater before, they hadn’t needed the room of three. They would cram close together and read the same book, or chat about all the things they could do when they got to his house. They had almost missed their stop multiple times because they were so lost in their conversation, and oftentimes they had to shout for the bus driver to hold on so they could get off. It was funny, sweet to the point of saccharine.

The thoughts made Aubrey sick now. She tried to pretend it was just the righteous fury she obviously should have felt at their betrayal, but there was something else in there. A thing with dark claws that dug into her chest and made itself known with pain. The word for it sat heavy in her mind, there but unspoken, pushed to some long forgotten corner that she never looked at and never wanted to. Aubrey had enough trouble grieving the dead, she had no need for grieving the living too. The bus reached their stop and she hopped off without looking back. Basil would follow or he wouldn’t, she didn’t care either way.

“Aubrey!” Flora tottered towards them down the sidewalk, her cane clutched firmly in her right hand. Her white hair was pulled up in her signature bun, and her dress was a pretty floral blue that matched her eyes.

She pulled Aubrey into a hug once the young girl was close enough, holding her in a tight squeeze. Aubrey put her hands around Flora, but she didn’t hug her back. Flora was fragile, her bones easily felt through paper dry skin. Aubrey hoped she never got old enough to feel this breakable, but the hug was still warm and comforting. Flora smelled like old lady soap and dried flowers and clean laundry, a smell that Aubrey loved for how safe it made her feel, and hated for how fleetingly often she got to experience it.

When Flora pulled back she kept her hands on Aubrey’s upper arms, looking the girl up and down. Aubrey resisted the urge to squirm, holding her breath as the old woman appraised her. She hadn’t seen Basil’s grandmother since the funeral almost two years ago, and she knew Flora hadn’t seen her shocking pink hair yet, or the new styles she liked to wear. Aubrey began to steel herself for a long winded speech about respecting her body like a temple, the kind her mom liked to preach after her second bottle of wine.

“You got taller,” Flora commented, turning around and leading the way back to the house, “Come inside, I made some snacks for you two,”

Aubrey slowly let out the breath she had been keeping, letting Basil walk in front of her and towards his house. Flora had never been a mean spirited woman or purposefully judgemental, but Aubrey’s threshold for trust was a lot lower than it used to be. Her anger began to bleed out and shame took its place. Aubrey usually thought the worst of people, and that didn’t bother her because she was usually proven right in the end, but there were exceptions. Flora had never done anything to earn her ire, even if her grandson had.

Aubrey followed them into their home, taking her shoes off at the entrance and looking around. Nothing had changed really, flowers and plants still hung in pots all around and the bookshelf was still packed to the brim. There was a pot bubbling on the stove and vegetables half cut on a board next to it. Flora gestured towards the table and slowly made her way to the fridge, pulling out a carton of strawberries and two oranges. She made quick work of the fruits and was soon putting a platter of cut up pieces of fruit between the two children.

“You two can finish your homework here while I finish up the grub. Dinner is going to be in an hour and a half. I know five o’clock is a little early for you youngins, but I like to be in bed by six!” The old woman laughed at her own nonexistent joke, the sound creaky and roughened with age. She had to stop to cough halfway through, but she waved away Basil’s worried gaze and reaching arms, “Please dear I’m fine. Aubrey you have to teach my grandbaby here how to relax more and just enjoy life,”

Aubrey didn’t respond, using digging through her backpack as an excuse to not have to acknowledge what Basil’s grandmother had said. It was less of a hassle to pretend that she hadn’t heard then to lie and act like she cared if Basil was uptight or not. Basil also didn’t say anything, he just started his work in silence. Flora’s genial mood faltered ever so slightly, but she took their dampened mood in stride.

“Okay then, while you two mope, I’ll keep working on dinner,”

Flora went over to the kitchen proper and turned on the radio, listening to some talk show that Aubrey’s mom also liked. The girl settled into her seat and began to flip through her work, picking and choosing which assignments she would do and which ones she would blow off. There was no point to doing some of them, the teacher was going to fail her anyway, so why should she try? At least if she put all her efforts into one or two classes with cool teachers, she might pass. It was almost dinner time when her peace was broken without her permission

“Did you understand the earth science homework?”

Aubrey looked up, shooting Basil a derisive look for even bothering to speak. He flinched away from her, but held firm, waiting for an answer. She didn’t even want to bother, but she knew Flora was nearby and probably listening, and she would have questions if Aubrey ignored her grandson, or worse, told him to shut up.

“It was easy,” Aubrey tersely replied, putting her anger into her pen. Her words started to come out jagged and uneven, but she didn’t care. It felt good, “It’s just identifying minerals,”

“I don’t get it,” Basil murmured, more to himself than to her. He scratched something out on his worksheet and fisted a hand in his hair, “She explained this over and over, I don’t understand why I don’t get it,”

Aubrey watched the display of his anxiety for a few moments before letting out an exaggerated sigh, letting her head flop back against the chair. It wasn’t even fun to watch him get upset, it just made her feel bad, which only made her angrier. She pushed her chair away from the table, enjoying the loud screech it gave and how uncomfortable it made Basil. Then she stood and walked around the table, leaning over him and getting in his space.

“Which one are you confused on?” She demanded, and he pointed to the question with a shaking finger. She looked at the problem and rolled her eyes. It wasn’t even one of the difficult ones. Their teacher had given them a table of potential minerals and then a series of questions with specific properties. They had to correctly pick which mineral went to which list of properties.

“Okay so you already got half of them, so you just have diamond, muscovite, talc, and gypsum left,” Aubrey stated, going over the options, “The mineral cleaves into thin sheets, has a white streak, and a pearly luster. Which out of those ones has those traits?”

Basil didn’t respond, still shaking from their proximity. He stammered out some unintelligible words, his hands clasping together around his middle. Before he could devolve into an entire anxiety attack, and more importantly before Flora noticed what was going on, Aubrey would have to deal with this

“Would you quit that? I’m not gonna bite,” She barked, and he flinched further away. Great. Aubrey forced herself to take a breath and count to ten, the thing that the annoying school counselor had showed her that almost never worked. Aubrey tried again.

“Okay instead of thinking about it that way. Let’s go with which ones don’t have those features. Does diamond have a streak?”

“No it’s harder than the streak plate,” Basil responded, which was what their teacher had said word for word. Aubrey had started off with a question she knew he would know the answer to, because Mrs. Tommen had made Basil repeat her when she thought he wasn’t paying attention earlier that day.

“So then obviously it can’t be diamond.” Aubrey said, unable to take all of the snottiness in her tone. It had to be good enough, besides he should know it was stupid that he needed help with this.

“The rest have a white streak though,” Basil said after a quick check of his notes, “It could be any of them,”

Aubrey briefly considered banging her head against the wall. Anything to get her away from rocks and this idiot. She walked around to her side of the table and went back to her own work, putting her head close to the paper.

“Look at the rest of the traits. They don’t all have the same traits. Just do it that way, and quit bugging me,” She hissed. Basil wilted, but he focused back on his work.

“Thanks for the help,” It came out quiet and timid, but it was there. Aubrey jerked her head in a nod, and the two of them lapsed back into silent solo work until Aubrey’s mother knocked on the door. She was dressed in a purple dress that had seen better days and came bearing store bought cookies that still had a sale sticker on them. Her hair was done, but flyaways surrounded her head like a dust cloud, and her smile was entirely fake.

Flora came over and greeted Aubrey’s mom with enthusiasm, thanking her for  her generosity and guiding her to the table. They made small talk as Basil and Aubrey gathered their things and Basil set the table. How her mom’s job was going, how was Flora’s health, all the usual things Aubrey couldn’t care less about.

The conversation only got more boring when dinner started. When they had done this in the past, Basil and Aubrey easily entertained one another with jokes and teasing jabs and barely noticed the time passing. Now each minute was an hour and Aubrey had achieved levels of boredom previously never reached. Aubrey caught Basil’s eye and nodded towards the doorway to the bedrooms, hoping he caught her hint.

“Um G-Granny?” Basil stuttered, grabbing her attention, “May Aubrey and I be excused?”

Flora looked at both of their plates and nodded, patting Basil on the arm. They gathered up their plates and put them in the sink. As she was about to finally escape, Aubrey’s mother crooked a finger in her direction. She walked to her mom and was pulled down roughly by the arm. It was nothing like the gentle pats that Flora gave Basil, but a clear warning.

“Behave,” Her mother said in a harsh whisper, and Aubrey gritted her teeth.

She hated that word. She hated her mother. She hated this whole stupid dinner. Aubrey didn’t bother to answer as she pulled away from her mom. Her mom didn’t want an answer, she wanted a doll for a daughter. A pretty perfect doll that made small talk and smiled at jokes that weren’t funny and did whatever she asked. Aubrey stole away from the kitchen table, walking into Basil’s room and shutting the door. She didn’t like spending time with him anymore, and she certainly didn’t want to talk to him, but anything was better than being reminded just how much her own mother didn’t like her.

Basil’s room was also in a stasis, unchanged and unevolved from when she last saw it. The only difference was a blooming white orchid, the petals spread around the stem like angel wings. An orchid that was cared for meticulously, surrounded in the dying light of the day with a golden halo. An orchid that stopped Aubrey in her tracks when her eyes landed on it.

Aubrey had only seen orchids like this in one place. She had assumed that the Pastor did it, or some of the church ladies. She knew that the auxiliary had a circulating list of volunteers that went to tend to the graveyard. Aubrey had even considered that the strange man who always seemed to be in the cemetery might put them there next to her.

She knew Hero didn’t visit. He never went anywhere near the church, hadn’t in years. She didn’t know or care what Kel did, and Sunny didn’t even leave the house anymore. Aubrey had thought she was the only one that visited, the last person that even cared. For some reason her brain had completely blocked out the logical idea that Basil, who loved flowers more than anything, would be the one to carefully tend to a difficult to grow bloom.

“You put these by her?” Aubrey asked quietly, tracing a finger over the delicate petals. Neither of them needed Aubrey to say who “her” was, there was only one person left that connected them. Basil nodded, keeping his eyes down and away from his former friend. Aubrey continued to stare down at the flower, her mind racing faster than she could catch up.

“It’s a white egret,” Basil said, sitting on his bed near her and looking at the flower, “It means my thoughts will follow you into your dreams. I thought it was...I thought she might like it,”

She would have. Mari would have thought it was incredibly sweet, and she would have been able to tell Basil so. She wasn’t like Aubrey who spewed hate without a care in the world but who could never manage to say something kind without stuttering. She would have been able to bring them all together so effortlessly, there would have been no issue. None of this would have ever happened in the first place.

Aubrey was adrift, alone in a sea of confusion that sent wave after wave to try and drown her. She wanted to sit on the bed next to Basil, wanted to finally crack open and let everything out. She could trust him to listen, trust him to care. He was the only one besides her who still cared enough to visit. She should do that. That would be good. But she couldn’t get her feet to move.

“Aubrey?” Basil said, hesitant but still reaching out. She pulled away from the orchid, stumbling back and looking around. A thick leather bound book in the middle of his bookshelf caught her eye, and she wandered over to it. She knew this book.

“Aubrey, don’t.” Basil ordered, his words meaning nothing to her. She could hear him say it, she could even be mildly shocked that he even dared to talk to her like that, when he had been so timid before, but none of it really reached her. Aubrey pulled his photo album out from the shelf, holding it in her hands and opening it.

Instead of the soft faded colors of their childhood, there was black. There was black over Sunny’s birthday, black over her pink raincoat. She could barely make out Hero and Kel arm wrestling, and she only knew which pictures were from the beach based on the small bits of yellow that peaked through the marker staining the memory.

He had scribbled over Mari’s picture.

Aubrey had never had an out of body experience like this. She was always solid, always grounded. Even when she had heard what Mari did, there was no part of her that was able to check out of the situation. Now she was high in the sky, somewhere distant and far where she could only watch as her heart was broken all over again.

A rough tug jerked her back into her body. Basil had snatched the album back from her, his eyes wild and blown wide open. She couldn’t even respond, she had no idea what to do first- steal the album back, or kill him.

“Get out!” Basil shrieked, holding the book against his chest and falling to his knees. She didn’t want to. She wanted to hit him, to feel his bones breaking under her fists and hear him crying out in pain. She could hurt him worse than he hurt her, make it so she wasn’t the only one suffering. He did this. He was the one who did this, and she wouldn’t be to blame for that. She wanted to wring his neck, to break down and start sobbing.

She wanted to run.

Aubrey shouted in rage, beyond words and beyond any outward expression of the emotions roiling within. She bodily threw the door open, running past the table and out the door. She heard her mother and Flora calling for her, but she ignored them, slamming the door and continuing to sprint away. She got back to her house in record time, not bothering to close the front door as she climbed up the ladder to her room as quickly as possible.

Aubrey locked the trap door to her room, finally letting out the scream that had been building up within her. No one was there to hear it but her bunny, and she was currently hiding in her hut from Aubrey’s meltdown. Aubrey flung herself onto her bed and buried her face in her pillows, screaming again. She could hear her mother coming into the house now, screeching in rage at Aubrey’s dramatic exit, catapulting insults left and right about Aubrey. The girl wasn’t listening and didn’t care. Her mind was focused on one thing and one thing only. She would get that album back from Basil, whatever it took to do so, and she would never, never, trust him again.

[hizashis-lil-bunbun]

The Silent Auction- (Hizashi Yamada X Fem!Reader)

This is my contribution to the Citrus Dome Auction Collab! Hizashi is honestly one of my favorite characters to write for and it’s a crime I don’t use him more.

Word Count: ~8.5k

Contains: smut, pet names, unprotected sex, creampie, DDLG (if you squint)

Banner by @ladyshinigami

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I can’t believe this.” You sigh for the umpteenth time, twisting this way and that to look at yourself in the bathroom mirror. You’re wearing a rich, black, floor-length gown with a high slit up one side and just the right amount of ruching to tastefully accentuate your curves. It was truly a miracle that it fit without the need for alterations, considering you’d had to buy the thing in a rush. Hell, you’d barely glanced at the price tag before slapping down your company credit card, viewing it as a bit of karmic justice for your boss’ callous, last-minute assignment. Sure being a sidekick of Endeavor’s (even a minor one) had its perks, but that didn’t make him any less of a nightmare to work for. As you struggled with the miniscule clasp on your necklace, you replayed this morning’s events in your head.

“The Heroes Gala?” You’d questioned, cocking your head in confusion and earning an irritated groan from the Flame Hero.

“Surely you’ve heard of it.” He’d snarked, the flames that ring his face seeming to flare in annoyance. “The Commission holds it once a year as a way to celebrate our achievements in hero society today and raise money for future endeavors. Dignitaries and heroes from all over the country– the world really– are expected to attend.”

“I’m aware of that, sir.” You’d chirped back, straightening up to make up for your lapse in decorum. “I’m just confused by what this has to do with me.”

If looks could kill, the glare he’d shot you would have put you in a coffin.

“Unfortunately, I’ve been called away on an urgent mission and can’t make it to the gala this year. But since I am the Number One Hero, my agency must provide some form of representation. That’s where you come in.”

Your eyes went wide at that, heart jumping into your throat as the gravity of the situation sank in. As far as your job was concerned, Endeavor’s word was law. There was no bargaining or substitution to be made. He didn’t even wait for a response before continuing.

“Your role for this event is simple: smile, wave, and maybe bid on a few of the auction items as a show of good faith. If you win something, fine. Just make sure it’s nothing… distasteful.”

You were tempted to question the noticeable shudder that ran through him as spat out the final word. But the careless wave of his hand was the signal for you to bow and leave, giving you no room for queries. However, just as you were about to walk out the door, he decided to toss some parting remarks your way.

“Make sure to wear something appropriate. It is a black tie event, after all. And one of my other sidekicks will be escorting you this evening. Call it insurance to make sure you don’t do anything to embarrass me.”

“Asshole.” You hiss under your breath, successfully hooking the clasp shut and putting a few loose hairs back in place. “What does he think I’m going to do? Get wasted and swing from the chandelier?”

Still muttering a litany of colorful curses, you march to the edge of your bed and plop down to slip into the matching stilettos you’d picked out during your brief shopping trip. Shoes like these were normally well out of your comfort zone (not to mention your price range), but you weren’t the one paying for them. Call them compensation for sacrificing one of your precious nights off. Once they were on, you stood up from the bed and carefully made your way over to the full length mirror in the corner of the room. You smooth down the fabric of your dress, picking away a few stray pieces of lint and checking for any “embarrassing” blemishes or stains. But everything is almost irritatingly perfect, not a stitch out of place. You’re about to launch into another tirade against Endeavor when your work phone chimes from it’s spot on the nightstand. No doubt it’s your “escort” (you refused to call him a date) texting to let you know he was coming to get you. Or worse, already here.

“No turning back now.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“This is it.” You hear Endeavor’s other sidekick grunt, forcing you to snap out of your daydreaming and look towards him. You hadn’t batted an eye when you stepped out of your apartment to find Endeavor had sent a limo, driven by one of his fleet of personal chauffeurs, to pick you up. He did have a knack for flashing his wealth and status whenever possible. What did surprise you was his choice of escort for the evening: a man by the name of Buru (or Taurus if you were to use his hero name). Buru was a fair bit older than you, sporting a pair of bull horns and hooves, and corded with so much muscle it was a wonder how he managed to squeeze into a tux. You seem positively miniscule compared to his hulking frame, making you look like a rather odd couple. The driver pulls up to the curbside, quickly putting the limo in park before getting out to hold the door open for you. He courteously extends a hand to you, which you graciously accept before snagging your evening clutch from the seat beside you. You gracefully step out of the vehicle and onto an honest-to-god red carpet leading towards one of the glitziest hotels in the heart of Tokyo, blinking in the wake of what feels like a hundred camera bulbs flashing around you. Reporters and cameramen are clamoring to snap pictures of the various celebrities and heroes, asking questions that run the gamut from classy to trashy.

Buru plods around the limo to join you by your side, giving you a subtle nod to signal that it’s time to start walking. You set off down the plush runway, walking with more confidence than you felt as reporters peppered you and Buru with questions about your relationship to the Number One Hero. Evidently they’d been tipped off regarding Endeavor’s absence. Buru remained stone-faced, his long strides quickly outstripping your much more delicate steps. 

“So much for being an escort.” You think, deciding to pick up the pace so as to not be left behind. And that decision quickly reveals itself to be a terrible mistake. Your pencil thin heel catches on a hidden snag in the carpet, causing your ankle to twist and buckle beneath you. You’re thrown off balance, teetering wildly before plummeting headlong towards the carpeted pavement. But before you can fall flat on your face, a set of strong, slender hands wrap themselves around your torso and pull you upwards, your back coming in contact with your savior’s chest.

“Woah there, little listener!” A familiar voice trills in your ear, their hands releasing you once you’re back on stable footing. “You almost took one helluva stage dive! You good?”

You turn over your shoulder to find a smiling face, framed by outrageous orange sunglasses and a well-trimmed mustache. Hypnotic, emerald eyes seem to sparkle back at you and his long blond hair is tied up in a messy, half-bun. You know this man. Everyone in Tokyo with a radio knows him: Present Mic, the Voice Hero.

“Thanks, Present Mic.” You mumble, an embarrassed blush rising on your cheeks. It was bad enough you’d stumbled in front of the press; the incessant clicking and flashing of cameras was reminding you of that. But to be saved by another hero on top of it… it was a little too much. However, the blonde doesn’t seem to care, giving a hearty laugh and clapping a hand on your shoulder good-naturedly.

“Don’t mention it, baby!” He chortles, winking in a way that would seem forced or cheesy coming from anyone else. “Always happy to help. Besides, it doesn’t seem like your boyfriend is too keen on stickin’ around.”

“Boyfriend?” You ask, cocking your head before remembering who you came with. You blush an even deeper shade of red, sure your face is about to burst into flames akin to your employer’s own. “Oh! No, no, no! He’s not my boyfriend. We just work together at the agency.”

“No kiddin’?” Mic says, his grin spreading impossibly wider before straightening up and offering an arm to you. “In that case, how ‘bout I lend you a hand until we get inside? No offense but those heels ya got on seem closer to stilts than kicks, ya dig?

While his radio slang is a bit confusing, you can’t help but find it a little endearing. With a sheepish nod, you grab a hold of his jacket-clad forearm and allow him to smoothly lead you down the remainder of the red carpet. He’s in full ‘Present Mic mode” as you walk together, all winning smiles and carefree waves as the press peppers him with questions.

“Mic who are you wearing this evening?”

“Present Mic! What’s the name of your damsel in distress?

“Mic! Is it true you’re involved in a scandalous affair with fellow Pro, Eraserhead?”

He lets their shameless inquiries roll off of him like water off a duck’s back, only blowing a dramatic kiss to the crowd before you both disappear behind the front doors. Once inside the lobby, Mic walks you over to one of three elevators, ushering you inside with a crush of other gala-goers once the doors open. It’s a short ride up to the venue space, and you can’t help but gasp when the elevator doors open onto an immaculately decorated ballroom. Every wall and archway is decorated with banners in the Hero Commission's signature black and gold colors, festooned with matching sprays of floral arrangements. There’s a live band somewhere in the room, playing soft jazz in the background to create an elegant atmosphere for the evening. But most impressive of all is the view; the farthest wall is made up entirely of floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a panoramic view of the Tokyo skyline. The sun is just starting to dip below the horizon, washing the room in an amber light that gives everyone a coppery glow. You’re so spellbound by the scene before you that Mic’s low whistle causes you to jump slightly. How long has he had his arm draped over your shoulders? Come to think of it, when had you slipped your own arm around his waist?

“Damn.” He breathes, carefully walking out of the elevators with you in tow. “This place is bitchin’. So much cooler than last year’s venue.”

“Is that so?” You say, your head swiveling around as a waiter breezes past you with a tray of finger foods. You don’t notice the way Mic watches you, nor do you see the crooked smile that crosses over his face as your tongue darts out to wet your lips. 

“Oh yeah.” He says, leading you away from the elevators and further into the crowd. “Last year the Commission rented out some–”

“Mic!” A deep voice calls above the steady thrum of conversation, cutting him off. An equally deep, if not more irritated voice calls out your own name simultaneously. The two of you look in opposite directions, the blonde towards a pair of dark-haired individuals waving him over and you towards your forgotten escort. Buru is fuming, smoke practically pouring out of his ears as he marches towards you.

“Where were you?” He growls while grabbing the hand closest to him and pulling you away from Mic harshly. “You’re not supposed to leave my side. Boss’ orders!”

“Stop it Buru!” You snap, yanking your hand out of his grip. “If you didn’t want me to leave your side, maybe you should have waited for me back on the red carpet. I nearly fell and busted my ass thanks to you! If Present Mic hadn’t been there–”

“No excuses.” Buru snaps back, “I shouldn’t have to wait around because you can’t keep up. We’re Mr. Todoroki’s sidekicks, so try to act like it!”

“Todoroki?” You hear the blonde hero echo behind you, “As in Enji Todoroki? Endeavor?”

You wince at Mic’s words, grateful your back is turned to him at the moment. Endeavor may be a hero, but being associated with him didn’t evoke a lot of warm, fuzzy feelings in folks. And many tended to react poorly when they found out who you worked for. With a dejected sigh, you turn back towards Mic, ignoring the way Buru impatiently stamps his hooves behind you.

“Yes, that’s right.” You say glumly, putting up your mask of professionalism. “I’m one of Endeavor’s sidekicks. He was called away on urgent business and sent me and my associate here to represent him and his agency. Forgive me for not telling you earlier.”

You offer a quick, apologetic bow, hoping to slink away as quickly as possible. But to your surprise, Mic doesn’t scoff, jeer, or even try to suck up to you for favors. He laughs. Not in a cruel or condescending way, but a real, mirthful laugh, infectious to the point you feel your own tension ease slightly.

“So that’s why I didn’t recognize ya!” He chortles, smacking his palm to his forehead. “Although it’s not too surprising. That dude cycles through more sidekicks than a jukebox does music.”

The nonchalant way he insults your boss causes your mask to slip and you let loose a giggle of your own. Buru, on the other hand, is clearly not amused.

“How dare you insult the Number One Hero!” He roars, stepping forward to point a scathing finger at Mic. “Endeavor is twice- no, three times the hero you could ever hope to be!”

“Woah, woah, woah! Take it easy, dude!” Mic says, putting his hands up before shooting you another playful wink. “All I meant was I definitely would have remembered meeting a pretty little thing like your partner here.”

You find yourself blushing and batting your eyelashes at him, returning his obvious attempts at flirting in a more surreptitious manner. Buru just places one broad hand on your shoulder, giving Mic a derisive snort before he starts to drag you away. 

“You’re not worth the effort.” He huffs, “Just stay away.”

You can’t resist adding one more match to the fire of Buru’s rage, looking over your shoulder and belting out a cheerful, “It was nice meeting you!”

“See ya around!” The blonde calls back, giving you a chipper wave before disappearing into the throng. Buru leads you to a table at the far end of the room, set with fine crystal stemware and gold place settings. He stiffly pulls out a chair for you, allowing you to sit down before taking up residence beside you. You’re amazed the flimsy looking things can support any weight at all, much less the mountain of horned muscle currently glowering at you. He crosses his arms and leans back with a grunt.

“So… now what?” You ask, absentmindedly fiddling with the gold napkin ring in front of you.

“You stay put.” He commands, “No leaving my sight for any reason.”

“You’re joking right? Do you seriously expect me to sit here with you all night?”

Buru doesn’t answer, instead turning his glare onto the crowd. You groan and flop forwards to rest your elbows on the table, opting to occupy your time with people watching. The ballroom is crawling with high-profile attendees: pros and sidekicks, politicians and CEO’s, celebrities and VIP’s. All of them with money, power, and prestige oozing out of their pores. You watch as the tuxedo-clad waitstaff scurry amongst the party-goers, offering up trays of hors d'oeuvres and honey-colored champagne. Every once a while, one of them makes their way over to your table with some delicious little morsel to offer. And in your famished state, the already excellently prepared food tastes like heaven. But when a server carrying a tray of champagne comes by to offer you a glass, Buru grabs your wrist before you can partake and rudely waves the poor girl off.

“What the hell was that for?” You hiss, rubbing at your now sore wrist.

“No alcohol. You’ve embarrassed me and Endeavor enough as it is.”

That does it. You can deal with villains, Endeavor, even your parents if necessary. But this “personal babysitter” schtick has gone far enough. You stand up from the table with a huff, swiftly moving out of Buru’s reach before he can grab you again. 

“Sit down!”

“No! I have to go to the bathroom. Can I at least do that?”

“I’ll accompany you.”

“Like hell you will! I’m a grown woman. I can go to the bathroom by myself without getting in trouble.”

Buru narrows his eyes and scowls deeply at you. You stare him down, refusing to back down from this fight. After a few tense moments, he relaxes slightly and gives a curt nod.

“You have ten minutes.”

You grab your clutch, turn on your heel and march off into the fray, doing your best to avoid stepping on other people with your dagger sharp heels. As you make your way across the crowded dance floor, you begin to recognize the more popular Pro Heroes among the sea of faces. Some of them you’d had the privilege of meeting personally, like Hawks and Miruko, both of whom were currently surrounded by fans and admirers. Others you’d only seen on TV or in newspaper clippings, but that didn’t make them any less impressive. In fact, you were too busy watching Fatgum scarf down a whole tray of artisanal onigiri by himself to notice a certain blonde standing in your way until it was too late. You bumped right into him, bouncing off with an embarrassed “I’m so sorry!” before coming eye-to-eye with those striking green whorls again.

“Oh hey, it’s you!” Mic exclaims, grinning down at you like he hasn’t seen you in ages. “No need to be sorry, baby. This thing’s a rental anyways!”

“But you’re all wet now.” You say, watching him while he wipes the remains of his spilled champagne off his tux jacket. “I can pay for the cleaning fees if necessary. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Honey, trust me. There are worse things to be covered in than free champagne. I’ve been to enough of these gigs to know!”

You giggle and open your mouth to respond, but are cut off by a velvety voice coming from your left. 

“Is this the little songbird you were telling us about, Zashi?’

You turn to find one of Present Mic’s companions from earlier, a dark-haired woman sipping her own drink and watching your exchange. She’s dressed in a skintight, scarlet gown with a neckline that plunges almost to her navel. A matching pair of horn-rimmed spectacles are perched on her nose, framing her striking cerulean eyes. Even without their signature harness and flogger, you recognize her as Miss Midnight.

“Yup! She’s the one!” Present Mic confirms, casually slinging his arm back around your shoulders. “What’d I tell ya? Pretty cute, right?”

The R-Rated Hero turns her gaze on you at his words, the sultry look in her eyes causing your stomach to flip a little. Seriously, it should be illegal for anyone to look that sexy.

“Very cute.” She assesses with a nod, “Zashi says you work for Endeavor, yes?”

“Y-yeah.” You fumble, slightly flustered and tongue-tied in the face of her scandalous beauty. “I’m one of his sidekicks.”

“I’m sorry.” Midnight quips back, her lack of manners shocking you slightly. But judging by the booze-bitten blush on her cheeks, you suppose the liquid courage in her system is to blame. “I know he’s the Number One Hero, but I’ve been his colleague long enough to realize how intense he can be. He must have you on a pretty short leash, huh?”

“I’ll say!” Mic chimes in, “He sent along some “nanny cow” of a sidekick to watch her all night. Speakin’ of which, how’d you manage to shake him?”

“Well…”

You glance back in the direction you came from, only for your face to drain of all color as you see a tell-tale pair of horns bobbing up and down amongst the crowd. Hizashi follows your line of sight and instantly sees the danger. Quick as anything, his arm snakes around your midriff and he turns to Midnight for assistance.

“Hey Nemuri, I got a gig for ya. See that guy with the horns? Big, mean, and ugly lookin’? Think you can distract him for a few minutes?”

“No problem!” She chirps without hesitation, tipping back the rest of her brightly colored cocktail before readjusting the neckline of her dress. It makes you wonder how much cleavage someone can possibly show before it crosses the line into pornographic. You’re too busy looking over your shoulder for Buru to notice the subtle wink that passes between the two heroes. And then Hizashi is moving, seamlessly flitting through the crowd and keeping you firmly glued to his side as you duck and weave around the other guests. You have to admit the speed at which he navigates the crowded space is impressive as he heads for one of the darkened archways lining the walls. Soon the crowd thins out and you reluctantly pry yourself out from under Mic’s arm to get your bearings. He’s lead you into a dimly-lit, side hallway, with tables and doorways lining the farthest walls. The din of party conversation and music is more muffled now, making you feel like you’re in a state of limbo.

“Where are we?”

“Silent auction.” Mic answers plainly, “Figured I’d take you somewhere quieter while we let Midnight do her thing.”

“And what exactly is her ‘thing?” You ask skeptically, wandering over to one of the display tables to check out the wares.

“You’ll see.” He says with a smirk, silently following behind you with his hands in his pockets. There are miniature spotlights shining down on the auction items, with slips of paper and pens for people to write in their bids. All the prizes are exceedingly lavish, from baskets overflowing with expensive spirits and goodies to exotic trips around the world. And the bids themselves leave your head spinning, shocked and a little sickened by the amount of money being casually thrown around.

“I’m sorry, the minimum bid for this is how much?” You scoff, pointing at the high price tag on what appears to be a singular bottle of wine. Mic leans over your shoulder to read the number himself, letting out a low whistle.

“Must be some good stuff.” He says with a smirk.

“I’m totally bidding on it.”

“You’re kiddin’ right? Last I checked, sidekicks don’t make that kind of bank, even if they do work for the Number One Pro. What are ya, some kind of secret billionaire princess?”

“Sadly no.” You say, digging into your evening bag to pull out a sleek, black card. “But I’m not the one who’s paying. And Endeavor did say to bid on a few items, ‘as a show of good faith.”

You end your sentence on a terrible impression of the Flame Hero, earning another snicker from the blonde as you place your bid. The pair of you wander the auction area for a while, gawking at the ludicrous prices and talking quietly. Or at least, as quietly as the blonde can manage. You fall into easy conversation, mainly discussing work in the hero world and Mic’s teaching career. Present Mic, or Hizashi as he prefers to be called, is a surprisingly eloquent speaker and his high-energy demeanor ensures there’s never a lull in the conversation. It’s honestly refreshing after dealing with the snooty, intense people you’re used to at the agency. Not to mention, he has no qualms about encouraging you to be a little mischievous when it comes to spending your boss’ money.

“How ‘bout that one?” He says, gesturing to a particularly gaudy piece of abstract art. “I think that would look rad on the big man’s mantlepiece, yeah?”

You giggle and lightly push against his arm, as mild punishment for his goofiness. 

“No way. Endeavor specifically said to not bid on something too ‘distasteful.’ And I’m pretty sure that thing is towing the line. What’s it even supposed to be?”

“It kinda looks like All Might.” Hizashi offers, “If you stand really far away and squint. I don’t really know much about fine art. But I do know ‘distasteful’ and I’m tellin’ ya now, this aint it baby.”

“And what would you qualify as distasteful?”

A grin that can only be likened to the Cheshire Cat spreads across Hizashi’s handsome face.

“I’ll show you.” He says, extending a hand to you. You grab a hold and allow him to guide you towards one of the doors along the wall. As you get closer, you realize there are small placards inscribed with a number on each of the handles. Hizashi is currently leading you to a door marked with the number seventeen, opening it for you and allowing you to step inside ahead of him. You find yourself in a much smaller room, washed in the same dim lighting as the rest of the auction area. It’s just big enough for two people to stand inside (three if they’re thin), and the oak paneling and cramped quarters almost remind you of a confessional booth. But there’s no man of the cloth here; instead there’s a screen set into the farthest wall and a small, black button resting on a shallow shelf below it. The screen only displays a three-digit number, every so often flashing red before going back to the number.

“What the hell?” You breathe while stepping farther into the room, allowing Hizashi to squeeze in behind you.

“Welcome to the main event of the Heroes Gala.” He says, closing the door. “The Anonymous Auction.”

“The Anonymous Auction?” You parrot back quizzically, turning around to face the blonde.

“You’re aware that most of the Commission's funding comes from public taxes, yeah?” He asks, waiting for your nod before continuing. “Well taxpayer dollars can only go so far. Especially when hero and villain activity has only gone up over time. Rebuildin’ a city you just smashed like an old record ain't cheap you know.”

He pauses to jerk one thumb behind him.

“That’s why they started holdin’ auctions– this whole gala, really– in the first place. It’s all just a fancy way to supplement the Commission’s budget. And due to the popularity of the auctions, they started offering some more… exclusive items in recent years.”

“What do you mean by exclusive?”

Hizashi gives you another playful smirk, looking at you over the rim of his sunglasses.

“You’re a smart girl. What do you think it means?”

He steps a little closer to you and places his hands on your waist for emphasis, thumbing small circles at the swell of your hips. You unconsciously lean into his touch and your eyes flutter closed for a moment before snapping open once more, realization crashing over you like a tidal wave.

“You mean like sex stuff!?” You squeak bluntly, earning a laugh from the Voice Hero.

“Well not all of it! But there have been some bizarre and kinda risqué items up for sale in the past.”

“Such as?”

“Well, I know for a fact that Nemuri donates a part of her “collection” to the auction every year.” Hizashi states, putting air quotes around the term. “And rumor has it that last year All Might auctioned off a pair of his underwear. I don’t know about that one, but if that’s true, then it explains how UA paid for it’s new training grounds and why the staff got a nice Christmas bonus.”

You can’t help but giggle at the thought of some snobby billionaire drooling over a pair of All Might’s underwear. Maybe they’d had them framed, mounted on the wall like a hunting trophy. You’re too caught up in your ridiculous daydreaming to realize Hizashi has stepped even closer to you, not until you can feel his hands sliding a little further down your sides and a little farther behind you. You’re now chest to chest, breathing in tandem as he leans down to speak directly into your ear.

“So now that we’re in here… what do you say we play a little game?”

His voice is low and smooth, audial honey dripping into your brain. Your breath unconsciously catches in your throat as your body moves of its own accord to press closer to him. The energy between you is shifting palpably, from friendly strangers to something much more intimate and heavy. The room feels like it’s heating up and your dress suddenly feels much too snug.

“What kind of game?” You murmur back, a delicious shiver running down your spine when he hums in response.

“How ‘bout the quiet game?” He says, his bristly mustache tickling your cheek when he speaks. “But we’ll make it a little more interesting.”

You can feel him begin to gently push against you, forcing you to walk backwards until you feel the top of your tailbone bump into the low shelf. Hizashi’s hands never leave your body, roaming lower to finally settle on the plush curve of your ass. If anybody else was doing this, you’d have kneed them in the jewels and run for the nearest exit by now. But for some reason, you trust Hizashi. You want Hizashi. And if the steady throbbing in your core is any indication, you need Hizashi.

“Here’s the deal, babygirl.” He says, lifting his head to rest his forehead against your own. You can’t help the way your thighs tense at the pet name, something that definitely doesn't go unnoticed by the Voice Hero. “You’re going to try and stay as quiet as possible. And every time you get too noisy, you’re going to press that little button.”

His eyes flit over to the device in question before locking back on yours.

“That button raises your bid on whatever item is currently up for grabs. So the less noise you make, the less bids you make. And you wouldn’t want to end up winning something distasteful, yeah?”

You subtly shake your head and crack a small smile at his joke, bringing your hands up to rest on his clothed pecs. You’re surprised to feel powerful muscles rippling underneath his rented dress shirt, along with the heat rolling off of his body and the steady thrum of his heartbeat. Clearly that rented tux is doing nothing for his figure.

“Well what are you going to do?” You tease, running your hands up the plane of his chest and underneath the jacket to grip his broad shoulders. “Seems like I’m the only one playing this game of yours.”

One of his hands leaves your ass to hook a finger under your chin, forcing your head to tilt upwards. He gives you a sinfully wicked grin. 

“Oh but that’s the best part, baby. I’m going to try and make you scream.”

Suddenly his lips are crashing into yours, sloppily at first but soon smoothing out into a steady push and pull. He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, biting gently before letting it spring back into place. You sigh into his mouth, a sound eagerly returned by the hero. Your nails dig into his shoulders, bunching the fabric of his shirt as he deepens the kiss. There’s tenderness in the kiss to be sure, but also a fierce dominance that has you fighting against the moans rising in your throat. Hizashi uses the shelf behind you to force and arch into your back before kissing his way down the sensitive column of your throat. He licks and sucks at your pulse point, not hard enough to leave marks but enough to remind you that he’s in control. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, even going so far as to clap a hand over your mouth when he gives a particularly sharp nip. He clicks his tongue against your skin, bringing up his free hand to pull yours away.

“Ah ah ah. No cheating, baby.” He says, moving farther down your chest until his chin rests between the supple swell of your breasts. “If you try to put yourself on mute again you’ll have to press that button regardless. Ya dig?”

You nod and he releases your hand, allowing you to curl your arm around and place it at the base of his neck. Pleased with your compliance, Hizashi hooks his thumbs under the straps of your dress and gently shrugs them off. The top half of your gown falls away, pooling around your waist as your breasts are fully exposed to the open air. They pebble and peak instantly, despite the perceived heat in the room, and you feel Hizashi’s hum of appreciation rumble through your sternum. His hands come up to cup them, indulging in their full weight and supple give as he squeezes them lightly. His head dips down to kiss your right breast, ghosting over the pert bud of your nipple as he places featherlight kisses around the areola. It’s maddening, far too light and teasing for your liking. The hand on the back of his neck suddenly fists in his hair and you pull him closer to you, squishing his nose against the pliant flesh.

“Damn baby. Feelin’ needy already, huh?” He chuckles against you, pulling away slightly to look up at you through half-lidded, golden lashes. You whine softly, still pulling his head closer to your body. Hizashi resumes fondling your breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth while using his thumb and forefinger to toy with the other. His tongue swirls around the sensitive nub, every deft twirl and brush mirrored by his fingers. It’s a blissful sensation, heating licking across your nerves and shooting straight to your core. Suddenly, he gives a particularly hard suck and pinch, pulling an involuntary gasp from you. You can feel his smug grin before you even look at him, and he pulls off your nipple with a soft pop.

“Strike one, princess. You know what you have to do.”

“I thought you said no cheating.” You whine, feeling the fresh slick coating your panties and relishing the lingering sting emanating from your nipples.

“It’s not cheating, it’s part of the game. Your job is to stay quiet, my job is to break the silence. Now are you going to play by the rules or not?”

You look over at the seemingly innocent button and furrow your brow. It’s only just dawned on you now that you have no idea what you’d be bidding on and a bolt of panic shoots through you. What if it was a piece from Nemuri’s collection? Or something worse! Hizashi, seeming to sense your trepidation, briefly raises his head up to plant a soothing kiss to your temple.

“Hey, we can stop if you wanna.” He says, removing his hands from your breasts to cup your cheeks. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’m not gonna push ya.”

Your eyes bounce between the little black button and Hizashi’s face, biting your lip in your moment of indecision. It was a gamble for sure, a gamble that could easily cost you your job should you end up winning. But then again… how much humiliation and strain had your nightmare of a boss put you through in the past year? The past month? The past 24 hours? Taking a deep breath, you tentatively press the button, the screen behind you flashing green to signal the successful placement of your bid. Hizashi smiles down at you, impressed with your boldness.

“Fuck it.” You breathe, stretching up to press a chaste kiss against his lips. “I’m all in.”

Hizashi returns the kiss with interest before fully sinking to his knees, running one hand up the slit of your dress to rest on your exposed thigh.

“Okay then, baby.” He purrs, “I need you to spread your legs a little more for me. Lemme see what we’re workin’ with down here, yeah?”

You willingly comply, widening your stance as Hizashi sweeps the bottom half of the dress out of the way and tucks it behind you. The black, lacy thong you’d picked out for the occasion is soaked through, your essence already starting to coat your inner thighs. Hizashi runs one finger up your barely clothed slit, whistling when he feels how damp they are.

“Damn baby.” He breathes, almost like he’s in awe. “These are fucking ruined.”

You resume biting your lip when you feel two of his fingers hook underneath the material and pull it to the side, fighting against the urge to close your legs.

“Such a pretty girl…” Hizashi coos against you, planting a soft kiss to your right thigh before resting his head against it. “Everything about you is pretty.”

You can’t stop the blush that rises to your cheeks at the whispered praise, nor help the way your cunt clenches around nothing. It certainly doesn’t go unnoticed by the blonde as he leans in closer, using his thumbs to gingerly pry your labia apart. He looks up at you hungrily, pupils blown wide with desire as he tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“Hold on tight, baby.”

Hizashi uses the flat of his tongue to lick a hot stripe up your slit, letting out a low, filthy moan at the taste. You realize now why he gave you a warning. He’s using his quirk to amplify his moans tenfold, turning his mouth and tongue into the most attentive sex toy on Earth. The vibrations send shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, clouding your senses with desire. Whatever restraint the hero possessed dissolves the moment he tastes you, as he latches on to your rapidly swelling clit and sucks roughly. You gasp at the new sensation, hips unconsciously bucking to force his face further into you. He hums and willingly obeys your body’s command, replacing his mouth with a heavy thumb and delving his tongue between your folds to lap at your quivering entrance. The increase in intensity causes your thighs squeeze together, caging in the hero’s head as he dutifully tongue-fucks you. You can already feel an orgasm mounting deep in your core, his earlier teasing and stimulation paying off in spades. But his tongue isn’t enough, even with his quirk.

“M-More!” You cry out, unable to quell your pleading voice. “I need more. Need to cum. Please let me cum!”

Hizashi pinches the back of your thigh, a silent reminder for you to follow through with the rules of the game. With a groan you bring your hand down on the button, ignoring the flashing screen as you grind your hips down onto his face. But just when you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls away from you, breathing heavily and his face coated in your sticky juices. You whimper at the loss of contact, but his hands keep your thighs spread apart to deny you the friction you seek.

“Good girl.” He pants, still swirling his thumb over your aching pearl. “So good for me, baby.”

“Then why’d you stop?” You softly moan, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes. You’d been so close.

“Because,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “The only way I want you to cum is on my cock.”

Before you can fully register his words, he grabs you by the hips and flips you around, pulling your dress up and bunching it in one fist. Your panties are roughly yanked down around your ankles and you have to brace yourself against the shelf as you feel the hard bulge of Hizashi’s pants rub against your bared ass. A sharp smack to one cheek causes you to yelp, and a quick smack to the other forces you to bring your hand down on the button.

“Cheater.” You pant, earning a dark chuckle for the man behind you.

“Name-calling are we now, baby? Just for that, you don’t get to cum until I say so. Understood?”

You nod quickly, glancing behind you when you feel him start to fiddle with his belt and zipper. Your eyes widen when you see his painfully erect cock spring free: long, thick, and with a silver ring adorning the reddened tip. He gives the length a few short pumps, coaxing out a pearly bead of precum that quickly winds its way around the Prince Albert piercing.

“I think someone likes what she sees.” He says coyly, flicking one finger against the metal for emphasis. “Ever been with a pierced guy before?”

You shake your head and Mic smirks.

“Then trust me. You’re gonna love this, babygirl.”

He lines the head up with your entrance and starts to slowly push into you, the initial stretch causing you to hiss in pain. But the burn soon melts into pleasure as Hizashi buries himself to the hilt, bottoming out with a grunt of his own. You can feel the metal ring bumping against your cervix already, a low moan escaping when he gives a few shallow thrusts.

“Good girl. Takin’ me so well. So tight and perfect.” He mutters breathlessly, voice barely above a whisper. The praise makes you whimper and clamp down on his cock, earning a moan of pleasure from Hizashi. He starts to move in earnest, pumping in and out of you at a steady pace. Each forward thrust pushes your face closer to the wall, your breasts brushing back and forth across the cool wooden shelf and stimulating your pebbled nipples.Your mind is floating in a haze of hedonistic bliss as the air around you fills with the sounds of slapping skin and the scent of sex. You can already feel your orgasm racing towards you at a breakneck speed, the coil in your belly tightening with each thrust. Hizashi suddenly sinks his teeth into your right shoulder with a an almost feral growl, blunted teeth nearly piercing the skin. You squeal at the brilliant pain, only to feel his tongue lave over the forming welts, soothing them. You automatically bring your hand down on the button and his pace quickens in response, rewarding you by maneuvering his hips until he finds the spot that makes your vision go white and your mind go blank. 

“Th-th-there!” You sputter out, smacking the button before instinctually backing into him. You don’t give a damn about your boss or the money anymore. All you can focus on right now is chasing your own mind-numbing pleasure. He gives a hum of acknowledgement and straightens up, angling his thrusts to hit that spot every time. He can feel the way your walls flutter and shiver, right on the edge of release.

“That’s it, babygirl.” He grunts, licking the pad of his fingers before reaching below your bodies to find your clit. Slender digits rubs tight circles on the swollen bead, the rough touch making you almost sob in relief. “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock!”

It’s a demand, one that your body is more than ready to obey. With one final circle of his thumb, the pressure snaps and you cry out in toe-curling ecstasy. It feels like your entire body locks up from the intensity of your orgasm and Hizashi gives a cry of his own when he feels the way your pussy clamps down on him like a vise. He forgoes gentleness in favor of animalistic rutting, gripping your hips to set a brutal and unforgiving pace. His cockhead and piercing continually slam into your g-spot and cervix, lengthening your own orgasm to an almost unbearable extent.

“Shit.” He curses, pistoning into you like a rabbit while his balls slap against your clit. “I’m fuckin’ close. Where do you want it?”

“Cum in me!” You wail, the game forgotten as fireworks explode behind your eyes. “Please! Hizashi! I need it.”

Hearing you beg so sweetly for him snaps what little composure he had left. Hizashi lets loose a guttural howl and after a few harsh thrusts, his hips stutter to a halt. You can feel his cock pulsing deep within you, filling you up with rope after rope of thick, white seed. He stays inside you for a moment, breathing heavily and feeling the way your velvety walls throb around his length. Your body feels hot and heavy, head swimming as you gradually come down from the high. Eventually, Present Mic pulls his spent dick from your abused hole, pausing to admire the way his cum oozes out and drips onto the wood floor before pulling your panties back up. Your legs might as well be made of jelly for how useful they are right now, wobbling on your stilettos as you hold onto the shelf for dear life.

“That…” You pant, “That was good. So good.”

“Yeah?” Hizashi says behind you, tucking himself back into his trousers before smoothing one hand up and down your exposed back. His gentle touch causes goosebumps to rise on your skin, your nerves still overly sensitive.

“Yeah.” You breathe, “I needed that.”

Hizashi smirks and leans down to pepper kisses along your shoulder blades, basking in the afterglow alongside you. You practically melt under his affections, never wanting this tender, warm feeling to end.

“Can you stand?” He asks after a few minutes and you weakly nod. Carefully, he helps you stand upright, brushing a few stray pieces of hair behind your ear while you fix your dress and cover your chest once more. Hizashi then moves to fix his own half-bun, smirking at the way you’re dreamily looking up at him.

“Hey space cadet.” He teases, tapping the tip of your nose with one finger. “Come back to Earth for me, will ya? We better get outta here before your nanny cow calls the cops. Or worse, Endeavor.”

You blink slowly and hum in agreement, lazily looking over at the button one last time. And then you freeze. A new message is scrolling across the screen:

Congratulations! You have won lot #114. Please collect your prize.

“Oh my god…” You whisper, feeling your blissful headspace drown under an icy wave of fear. “Oh my god, NO! What the fuck did I just do?”

“Hm?” Hizashi turns to the screen and it’s too-cheerful message. “Oh! Well wouldja look at that?”

“Why are you being so calm about this!?” You shriek, grabbing him by the lapels of the tuxedo and frantically shaking him. “My boss is going to kill me! I have no idea what I– what he just bought! It could be a dildo in the shape of All Might’s dick for all I know!”

“Hey, hey! Chill out, baby!” Hizashi says, placing both hands on your shoulders to steady you. “Just breathe for me, okay? Nice and slow. You didn’t buy anything like that, I promise.”

“How do you know?” You squeak, trying not to hyperventilate.

“Because I know exactly what they were auctioning off with that lot number.”

“Then spare me the dramatics and spit it out, Hizashi! What did I just win!?”

“... Me.”

The world seems to stop for a moment as you stare up at Hizashi’s sheepish face. You open and close your mouth like a goldfish, your overloaded brain trying to find the right words to say. It settles on a neanderthalic, “Huh?”

“You won me.” He repeats, “Well not forever anyways. Just for 24 hours.”

“I don’t understand. Are you trying to be funny?”

“I’m dead serious, baby! The Anonymous Auction doesn’t just offer material stuff. People can bid on and win “dates” with Pro Heroes. The more popular the Pro, the more money comes in. I volunteered to do it this year since a couple of my buddies did it last year.”

You blink slowly, allowing your panicky brain to process this new information.

“So… is that why you brought me here? Because you knew it was time for the bidding to start on your date?”

“I swear, I had no idea.” Hizashi says, crossing an X over his heart for emphasis. “I just wanted a chance to talk to you more and get ya away from that creep of a partner you came with. It was honestly just a lucky coincidence.”

“And the quiet game?”

“I came up with that on the fly when I saw my lot number on the screen. But I didn’t expect you to actually win the auction. And if you don’t wanna go through with this because of your boss or me, then I totally get it. You can always defer to the second highest bidder. That kinda thing happens all the time.”

You step back from Hizashi and turn away, muttering a quick, “Give me a minute.” 

Looking past the insanity of the situation, you had to admit you were a little impressed, even grateful, for Hizashi’s scheme. He’d saved you from dealing with Buru, at least for a little while, and made sure you had a fun time doing it. And besides, it’s not like you weren’t attracted to the man. Sure he was loud and goofy, but he was also sweet and charismatic. Not to mention a damn good lay.

“... Okay.” You say after a few moments of thought, snapping your attention back to Hizashi. “Here’s what I want to do.”

You hold up one finger.

“First of all, I want to find a bathroom and get myself cleaned up. This is a nice dress and I don’t want it to get stained, if you catch my drift.”

Hizashi nods in understanding. You put up a second finger.

“Secondly, I’m absolutely starving. So I want to get some water and food. And maybe a glass of champagne.”

Hizashi cracks a smile at that, giving a chuckle of “You got it, baby.”

“And finally,” You say, stepping forward to grab Hizashi by the front of his jacket and pull him in for a kiss. “I want to collect my prize.”

[thekingdomofelfhame]

Jurdan Fanfic: Jealousy

Summary: Jude feels that Cardan hasn’t been giving her much attention since she came back from the mortal realm after visit her sisters. She decides to play a game with him when an opportunity arises at a party...

I am not surprised to see Cardan lounging on his throne, extremely drunk, the bloodcrown resting on his brow. He wears one of his ridiculous robes, one with a massive number of black feathers stretching from his shoulders to his ankles.

How does he not trip in such extravagant clothing?

I snap out of my thoughts as I feel a hand on my shoulder, heavy yet comforting and I turn around to see my twin sister, Taryn, her hair tied up into a beautiful bun, making her hair look like a rose. She is dressed in a forest green gown that glimmers like a thousand emeralds in the moonlight, her legs showing from the slit in her dress.

“Hey”

“Hi. So what are you up to nowadays?”

“Oh. You know. Trying to correspond with the low courts, crushing small rebellions and other usual stuff. Honestly, I have not been able to find time for myself”

“And that is why I want you to meet someone”

“What are you up to?”, I ask suspiciously and she just gives me a sly smile before saying, “Come on! You are going to love him”

Before I can protest, she takes me by my hand and drags me through the crowd to a grey-haired man with blue amber-lined eyes, a tattoo partially covering his arm.

“Hey, Sky!”, Taryn says excitedly.

“Hi, Taryn. I did not know you would be here”, he says, his voice deep and smoky. His eyes shift towards me and my midnight blue dress, “this must be your twin sister. Judy? I am guessing?”, he says, extending his hand to me.

“Jude”, I snap and reach out to shake his hand, simultaneously giving my sister an exasperated look as she leaves me with him. Taryn has been dating quite a few guys since she killed Locke and each time sets up a meeting between me and her date, just so I can give my judgement and it has been worse than hell.

I skim the crowd to find Taryn, giving less attention to what Sky is saying; something about him being a wildlife photographer or something. I can’t seem to find Taryn and it makes my blood boil until I find Cardan’s black eyes upon me, not paying attention to the Fae standing beside him. That is when it hits me.

Not giving me much attention have you? Too bad. Let’s play a game

I turn back to Sky who seems to have finished his story, “So, what about you? What is your occupation?”

“Really? Taryn did not tell you”, I say, twirling my chestnut curls, “I am the seneschal”. I lie with ease as I feel Cardan’s gaze on me, sending a shiver down my spine. And yet, I continue to flirt with Sky as he continues to flirt with me and the only indication of our silent flirting was the smirk on his face and the smile on mine.

I feel as if I have flirted enough as I turn around to see Cardan, his eyes filled with fury. He jumps up from his throne and walks towards us while I pretend that I am oblivious of him, oblivious of his fury, oblivious of the fact that I was his wife and he was my husband.

“And that is how I met Taryn”, he says, waiting for me to speak.

“I wish I was there. I would have witnessed your cuteness long before my sister”

We both laugh at that but soon stop when Cardan interrupts, his hand firm on my waist.

“Please do entertain me with one of your jokes as well”, Cardan says, his voice rough. 

“Oh, hey, Cardan! I almost didn’t see you there. Sky here was just telling me about himself”, I say exhilarated before turning back to Sky, “You should really tell Cardan about your time with the whale”

“I do not think that will be necessary”, Cardan interrupts, clearly exasperated.

“And why is that?”, I question him.

“Because, Jude dearest, we have to leave”

“What about--”

“Now!”

I don’t even get to say goodbye to Sky as Cardan pulls me away, his breath ragged with anger and I am certain I would have a hand-shaped bruise on my waist in the morning.

I protest all the way to our chambers while Cardan remains dead silent and does not utter a single word until we reach our chambers.

“What the hell was that?!”

“It is not necessary for you to know”, he says calmly while locking the door.

“What do you mean ‘it is not necessary for you to know’? Are you crazy? Have you lost your mind? What will Taryn’s boyfriend think of you now? Huh? For God’s sake, answer me!!!”

He does not answer for a long time, just...stares.

That is when I draw the line and rush towards the door, “Fine. If you don’t wanna answer me, don’t. I am gonna go back to the party and clear your mess”, I shout and add, “Oh, and I will be staying at Vivi’s today. You can sleep here alone tonight”

I am about to unlock the door when his hand grabs a hold of my arm, turning me around to face him.

“Jude”, his voice is apologetically soft.

“What?!”, I am sure half of Elfhame must have heard my voice, “Cardan, I do not know what is wrong with you! You are not answering me! You have been ignoring me since I came back!”

His expression changes. His face is unreadable. 

He steps towards me, closing that last bit of distance between us.

“You think I have been ignoring you?”

“Aren’t you? Let’s take tonight, for example. What kind of a person leaves his wife alone in a party?!”

“Jude. You had company. What was his name? Sky, was it?”

“He is Taryn’s boyfriend! I only got stuck with him because of Taryn!”

“But you seemed to be enjoying yourself”, he looks down as his cheeks redden.

“I was only pretending for Taryn!”

Relief floods his face and his cheeks are now a striking red.

Is he blushing?

“Thank god you were only pretending because I swear he was looking at your body the whole time. I really wanted to punch him and I would have if it wasn’t for you”

“Cardan Greenbriar, are you jealous?”, I tease. 

He does not answer but instead kisses my neck.

His lips are soft and warm against my skin and the way he kisses me... soft and raw.

Finally, he pulls back and says, “yes” and before I can tease him more, his lips find mine. My hands go to his silky black hair that are now damp with sweat. His lips move along my jaw finally stopping by my ear to whisper, “ Only I get to touch you this way. Oh, and by the way, I was not ignoring you. I was simply giving you space to adjust as my Queen and Elfhame’s”.

If my heart could explode, it would have. 

He was so caring. Why did I have to be angry at such a beautiful and kind person?

I cannot control my emotions and, despite my attempt to blink my tears away, my eyes start bursting with them and my nose becomes runny.

Cardan must have sensed my flooding emotions for he pressed my head to his chest, one arm wrapped around my waist while the other playing with my hair. Tears trickled down my rosy red cheek that was now drenched in sweat.

“Jude”, Cardan says pressing a kiss to my forehead, “please do not punish me this way or I may go and do more than just punch that guy”. I laugh so sudden and hard that I wheeze.

“You know, no matter how upset I am, you always seem to make me laugh”

“Well, that is my job. Isn’t it, my sweet nemesis?”. With that, he kisses me again. None of us really sleep that night and the next morning I wake up with a hand-shaped bruise on my waist...

[movedtopassione-parfait]

La Squadra personal character hcs:

(WARNINGS: mentions of parental neglect, divorce, death, child abandonment)

Risotto Nero:

Risotto is a 7'0 (totally not my size kink showing) olive tan Sicilian guy, abandoned by his parents after he first opened his eyes due to his strange appearance and cared for by his grandmother. (cough cough credit to tenthgrove for the amazing story) Grew up close to his cousin since he had very few people in his life, that's why he was crushed by his death. After getting his revenge he felt like he couldn't return home, and turned to Passione instead. I feel like he's got a thick accent and deep sultry voice (much like the one from the fan made italian dub on youtube!!) His eyelashes are definately long and white, and I feel like he has many brown sun spots like I do! He often bumps his head on door frames, tells a dark joke but nobody knows it's a joke so they just think he's incredibly fucked up, and when he gets into a car you can see it shift from his weight. Has no preference for tea or coffee, he will drink what's available to him. His hands? Big and rough, they're scarred all over and he wears silver rings. Has a few piercings like snake bites and an eyebrow ring. Dick piercings. His favorite food is pasta alla norma.

Prosciutto:

Prosciutto is from Florence, he grew up with his parents there for a bit before moving to Palermo with his mom after they divorced. His favorite memory of growing up is staring down at baby Pesci in his crib. He's 30 years old, 5'9, and has an overbite + tooth gap. His voice is somewhat deep and has an accent, but not as thick as Risotto's. Has a terrible habit of blowing cigar smoke into people's faces, spitting while yelling, and taking way too long styling his hair in that weird triple bun style. Is more of a coffee drinker than tea, he enjoys a good black coffee or an espresso. His hands are very pretty, like slim yet thick fingers and soft to the touch because he moisturizes them with the finest lotions and creams. Sometimes he likes to wear a corset in the privacy of his room, he thinks they're extremely beautiful and he has a collection of really detailed ones. His favorite food is bistecca alla fiorentina.

Pesci:

Is Prosciutto's half brother related by their mother. Pesci is from Palermo, and grew up with no father figure since he left and was no where to be found after he was born, Prosciutto made sure to be a big brother figure to him because of that, their relationship is unbreakable since they only had each other from the start. He's 22 years old, 6'0 and has a blotchy birth mark on his cheek. His voice is neutral, neither high nor deep, but he does have an accent slightly stronger than his brother. Has a habit of chewing on the inside of his cheek when nervous, tapping his feet on the ground, and let's people talk over him even though he hates it (my boy is socially anxious). Prefers tea over coffee, coffee upsets his stomach. His hands are large and slightly calloused on the palms, but very warm and pleasant to feel. Wears dark green lipstick because Prosciutto said he needed something "striking" about his look. His favorite food is caponata.

Ghiaccio:

Ghiaccio grew up as a troubled teen in Naples, often getting into fights at school which caused his grades to fall unfortunately. His parents were neglectful, constantly screaming at him until they eventually kicked him out when he was 19. He tried his best to survive on the streets for years having no where else to turn, barely living in some run down dingy apartment. Risotto found him in an alleyway when he was 25. He's decently tall, standing at 5'10. He has a habit of falling alseep in random places such as the couch or backseat of the car, yelling and ranting about things he barely finds himself caring about, and using up all of the hot water in the shower. Prefers coffee over tea, he likes the caffeine boost which is why he has a slight addiction to red bull energy drinks (if you look in his trash can you'll see cans piled up.) His voice is actually pretty high compared to his teammates, which is why some people (Illuso and Formaggio) call him "Screacher." Hands are medium sized, his skin is slightly rough on the knuckles and finger tips, and feel chilly to the touch. Has a stash of identical glasses in his rooms incase they break on a mission. His favorite food is frutti di mare.

Melone:

Melone is from Florence as well. His parents were also extremely neglectful, but he never picked up on it while growing up. Some of his odd natures like being clingy & touchy, come from lack of attention as a child, he just wants love and a family deep down. He's 5'7 and his eye covered by hair has foggy vision. Has a bad habit of not knocking on people's door/making his presence known before entering people's rooms, working late at night, shouting "Di Molto!" at inappropriate times. Loves tea way more than coffee because of some of the weird health benefits they have. His voice is light and a bit feminine (much like Enmu from Kimetsu No Yaiba). Another one with very pretty hands, slim fingers with well cared for nails, also soft and supple skin. Enjoys cross-dressing very much, not just in the privacy of his own room but anywhere, he'll even dress feminine to lure in targets at clubs and casinos. His favorite food is zeppole.

Illuso:

Illuso grew up in Padua, right near Venezia. His mother was not in the picture so it was just him and his father, until one day when he returned home his father never came back. He already knew his father was wrapped up into organized crime, it was only a matter of time this happened. Inside he blames himself, thought there was nothing he could do to prevent what happened. He covers his grief up with a cocky and egotistical facade to protect his own feelings, but really he just wants someone to give him affection. He's one of the tallest members of the group, being 6'3. He prefers tea over coffee, because he doesn't like the bitterness of it. Has a bad habit of passing through ANYBODY'S mirrors including the bathroom ones, acting like he's superior, and leaving lights on in rooms accidentally. His voice is quite smooth and pleasing on the ears but not actually that deep. His hands are average sized, thick fingers but smooth skin since he also used lotion. Likes to paint his nails, not just black but any color he feels like. Hot pink? Sure why not, fuck it. He likes the sparkly colors too. His favorite food is calamari.

Formaggio:

Formaggio grew up in Padua just like Illuso, with his father in the house. His mother on the other hand, was always out clubbing or partying. Unlike the others, his father was actually a pretty decent influence on him, teaching him the important things in life were the people around you. Because of his father's lessons, he cares for his team like brothers and is always trying to lighten the air by cracking a joke. He's 5'11 and has more freckles and sunspots than the rest since he used to be outside constantly as a child and teen. Has a bad habit of leaning one of his arms on everything next to him (including people), talking with his mouth full, and leaving beer cans everywhere. Doesn't have a preference for coffee or tea since he barely drinks either unless it's coffee in the morning sometimes. His voice is deep, lazy and slow, though its a bit rough when he laughs you could still probably fall asleep listening to him talk. Rough hands, calloused on the palms a bit, as well as a few burn scars on them. Secretly likes to watch soap operas and telenovelas, he'll tell you it's "lame and unmanly" but you'll still catch him crying on the couch eating a pint of ice cream because he was watching the series finale of Rosalinda. His favorite food is rigatoni specifically with red sauce.

no sorlato today guys 😔 but I will be writing theirs in the future, I hope you guys enjoyed this since it's my longest writing I've done yet!! Illuso and Formaggio have the same hometown because they were childhood buddies change my mind.

[tsukishumai]

49 from the general with oikawa please?🙈

Ty for requesting anonny! 😘 hope u like

send me a prompt + ur fav character here :)

49. Have you been sleeping?

Tags: aged up characters, fem!reader

Word count: 1.1k

Oikawa stood in front of your apartment door, wondering for the sixth time if he was doing the right thing. He ran his fingers over the grooves on the brass key he held in his hand. You’d given him a spare key to your apartment “just in case of emergency.” Now here he was, standing in front of your door, and contemplating on whether not hearing from you in twenty two hours constituted as an emergency.

Sighing out loud, hoping his actions weren’t seen as a nuisance, he entered the key, twisting the lock before opening the door.

“Y/N?” Oikawa called out, stepping into the genkan and taking his shoes off, quickly slipping into the baby blue house slippers you usually kept for him. He waited a few seconds for a response, and when he heard none, he made his way down the hallway that lead to your living room.

Oikawa found you on the couch, blanket wrapped around your shoulders and hunched over your laptop, ears covered by the headphones he had gotten for you last Christmas. He could hear the music blasting from where he stood, your mouth syncing with the words as you reached over to grab one of the many textbooks that littered your coffee table.

He crossed his arms, an amused smile on his face as he waited for you to notice his presence. Your fingers were typing at nearly lightning speed, and Oikawa was worried you were going to start a fire. You slammed down hard on a particular key, letting out an inhuman groan as you finally sat up and outstretched your arms.

Finally, your eyes landed on him, and Oikawa could not stop laughing at the comical way you jumped in the air, eyes stricken with fear before you realized it was just your lovely boyfriend standing in the middle of your apartment.

“Jesus Christ, Tooru!” you exclaimed, pulling off the headphones, “You nearly gave me a heart attack, you asshole!”

Oikawa was nearly doubled over, holding his stomach while you crossed your arms and give him a pointed glare.

“Oh, so you are alive,” Oikawa pointed out, making his way over to stand in front of you, “And here I thought, hmm, there must be some life-threatening, world-shattering reason as to why my girlfriend hasn’t replied to any of my messages. Or answered my calls. ”

He quirked an eyebrow, and you flinched a little at his words, bringing your hands up to try to rub the tired away from your face. “Sorry, Tooru… I’ve been busy.”

From his position look down, Oikawa can clearly see the deep purple bags that began to line your eyes. Your hair was up in a messy bun, random locks falling out haphazardly to frame your face. The shirt you were wearing had coffee stains, and you must have felt the way Oikawa was scrutinizing your appearance because you quickly wrapped your blanket around you tighter.

“When was the last time you took a break? Have you been sleeping? Have you eaten at all?” Oikawa bombarded you with questions, and the grimace on your face tells him all he needs to know. He was well aware of this bad habit of yours.

“Babe, my thesis is – “

“Isn’t due yet for another two months,” Oikawa interrupted, collecting the papers strewn about all over the floor, placing them up on top of the coffee table. He gathered all your textbooks, placing them atop one another in one neat stack.

“I know, but this research – “

“This research will be waiting for you after a meal, and a nap,” He said again, walking over to you and pulling the blanket off of you. You attempted to protest, but you cut yourself off with a yelp when Oikawa lifted you up from the couch bridal style.

“What are you doing, you psycho? Put me down,” you thumped on his chest half-heartedly, and he simply bent down and took an exaggerated whiff.

“While we’re at it, let’s toss you in the bath, too. Let’s see if you’ll melt,” he teased, letting you down once he gets you into the bathroom.

“Hey!” you pouted, “Did you come here to be a sweet loving boyfriend, or to be a giant pain in my ass?”

Oikawa laughed, turning on the water and adjusting the temperature to how he knows you like it: boiling hot. He turned on the space heater as well, hoping to avoid letting you step into cold air. The irritation in your eyes faded away when he gently reached up to let your hair loose from the hair tie that was giving you a headache.

“Fine, Tooru, I’ll take this one quick bath, but then I have to seriously get back to work.”

The look on Oikawa’s face tells you that you aren’t getting your way today, and you simply sighed as he reached out and place a hand on both your shoulders.

“I’m going to tell you something that has been repeatedly drilled into my head by one L/N Y/N,” he announced dramatically before bending down to look you straight in the eyes, “You need to give yourself a break.”

You pursed your lips slightly, still unconvinced when Oikawa reached out to tuck a lock of your hair behind your ears before cupping your face and squeezing your cheeks with his hands.

“This is what we’re going to do,” He started, “You’re going to take a nice, warm bath while I order some food. After we eat, we’re going to take a good, long nap, and when we wake up, I can help you organize some of your notes.”

Oikawa’s heart crushed at the sight of the tears beginning to fill your eyes.

He placed a quick kiss on the tip of your nose “Deal?”

“Deal,” you nodded, reaching forward to wrap your arms around his middle and bury your face in his chest. He gave your back a soothing rub, kissing the crown of your head.

He took your arms off from his waist, turning you around by the shoulders and giving a two-handed slap on your butt. “Hup hup! Get to it!”

“I’m going, I’m going…”

The grumbling that came from your mouth sounded all too familiar to Oikawa, chuckling at the reversal of roles. You sounded just like he does when you scold him for practicing for too long.

He pulled out his phone, calling in your favorite order from your favorite restaurant. He spent the twenty eight minutes waiting for it to get delivered by cleaning up your living room, thankful for the chance to finally take care of you the way you always take care of him.