#you know i could have sent more drawings but.

[jeonscatalyst]

oh!

https://x.com/ChicknBunny13/status/1837421144309194972

I got this ask hours ago and wanted to get my thoughts right before I posted it because for some reason I didn’t know Jungkook said this. I guess it probably wasn’t translated by most translation accounts so that’s why I missed it.

So for years, Jimin and Jungkook’s bond has been attacked by so many people because of the way they constantly tease, and banter and bicker with each other. To so many it meant that they hated each other, or they were just bros you know, because “that is how siblings behave” but now we see that Jungkook grew up watching his parents constantly tease and bicker and playfully roast each other and he saw that as them showing their love for each other or keeping things fun in the relationship. That is what he knows love is. That is the way he grew up believing couples behaved. They always say the way kids grow up watching their parents behave is how they try to be with their own partners because that is all they know and this is what Jungkook said so many years ago after Jimin got frustrated at him for always teasing……

It really doesn’t get any clearer than this. You see to Jungkook, he knows that his parents show their love for each other by playfully picking on each other or roasting each other. He doesn’t see it as hate or anything negative but as love and this explains so much about how him and Jimin behave with each other. Someone sent me an ask once about this and I explained that romantic relationship don’t have a set dynamic. Yes there are some characteristics of romantic relationships that are pretty much universal but these things usually depend on alot. So many people think that couples are always extra soft with each other, or don’t bicker or roast each other forgetting that people are just different. I had always known that Jimin and Jungkook probably found it fun to constantly tease each other to get a reaction but coming to find out now that Jungkook probably grew up seeing his parents like this and knowing that they bicker because they love each other is definitely something.

Just for more context this happened on one of his station head Lives where he mentioned that his mother’s cooking was really bland and that his dad sat by him complaining about how bland the food was and how his parents got into bickering about it but he (Jungkook) ate it well because it was his precious mom’s cooking.

You see, this is why it is important to not box things together. This is why it is important to try to understand context before drawing certain conclusions. This is why it is important not to look at every aspect of life as a one size fits all because I can bet good money that more than 3/4 of this fandom doesn’t know Jk ever said this but this single statement changes the way you view alot of things about his dynamic with Jimin. You know that dynamic that many people claim is sibling coded because of the constant teasing and banter but now we know how he feels about that kind of a dynamic in general.

Next time someone tries to make you feel like Jimin and Jungkook could never be in a romantic relationship because of how they banter or how they “push and shove” each other, kindly show them this.

Thanks anon for sending this to me and thanks @chicknbunny13 for this post on X because even I didn’t know Jungkook said this.

[sweet-villain]

A Heart Dared To Be Broken~ Eddie Munson

Summary : You were just a bet to Eddie.

Angst

You leaned against the plaster wall of the school hallway, fingers tracing the fading band posters. Laughter rippled from the courtyard, but the words that pierced through sent a chill racing down your spine.

“Eddie’s just doing it for the bet, man.” Mike’s voice carried over the swelling noise.

Lucas chuckled, mocking disbelief. “No way. He wouldn’t—”

“Definitely would,” Mike interrupted. “Harrington dared him. Said he couldn’t score a date with you.”

You swallowed hard, your stomach twisting.

“What if he actually likes her?” Lucas asked, concern knitting his brow.

“Doesn’t matter,” Mike replied. “It’s all for the glory of Harrington’s stupid dare. Can you see him getting serious?”

Your heartbeat quickened as their words spun around you. They didn’t know you listened; they thought their secrets were safe.

“No way,” Lucas muttered. “She’s… different.”

“Different?” Mike scoffed. “Eddie just wants to prove he can. It’s a game.”

Footsteps approached, laughter fading as they stepped away. You stepped back, breath caught in your throat.

Betrayed. The weight of their words stung sharper than any teen drama. Eddie leaned against the nearby locker, a grin plastered on his face, unaware of the storm swirling inside you.

" Good Morning, sweetheart" Eddie greets you. In that moment, his smile felt like a slice of sunshine, warm yet blinding. You forced an uneasy grin in return.

“Hey,” you managed, adjusting your grip on the strap of your backpack.

“Ready for the big history test?”

Eddie crossed his arms, feigning a relaxed posture, but the playful glint in his eyes hinted at mischief. “You mean the one where I’m gonna ace it and you’re gonna...”

Your laugh cut him off, more strainedthan amused. His eyes sparkled with a challenge, but a tightness coiled in your stomach.

“...struggle?” he finished, a teasing lilt in his voice. 

" You're so funny" you roll your eyes into your locker looking for books. You rummaged through your locker, the metal cool against your fingers. Textbooks jostled, their spines creaking, almost mocking your growing anxiety.

“Seriously, you’re not gonna study?” Eddie nudged your shoulder, laughter dancing in eyes.

" I have more important things to do" he stopped laughing. The weight of his gaze deepened, framing your unease in the air between you. You diverted your attention to the array of books, willing your heart to steady.

" Like what? Draw in your sketchbook? " Eddie tilted his head, an eyebrow arched in mock disbelief. 

“Just trying to find my study materials,” you replied, attempting nonchalance. You could almost hear the sarcasm in your own voice. Pain bloomed in your chest while Eddie observed you, amusement flickering as you struggled to maintain composure. 

“Right, your study materials.” He leaned in closer, his presence both electric and unsettling. “You mean the scribbles or the doodles of creatures that don't exist?”

Your determination to remain casual wavered. The pictures flashed in your mind, sketches of monsters that seemed more real than ever since you first picked up the pencil. 

“Creatures can exist,” you retorted, diverting your eyes back to the locker. “You just have to look closely.”

Eddie pushed off the locker, leaning back as if he intended to take the conversation in a new direction. “Alright, Picasso.” He smirked. “So if if I slide you a piece of paper, you’ll draw my portrait?” 

“Only if you promise to stop calling me Picasso,” you shot back, crossing your arms. Your heart raced, but you felt the urge to keep the banter alive.

For a moment forgetting you are just a bet to him. “Deal,” Eddie said, chuckling as he pushed a stray curl back from his forehead. “I’ll even throw in a classic Munson smile for your masterpiece.”

Inside your mind you were plotting your revenge on him. He wasn't about to make you a fool. Not anymore. 

The bell rang, a shrill cry echoing through the corridor. Students drifted past, laughter intertwining with chatter, but the noise felt distant. Your focus narrowed on Eddie’s grin, a mask painted over a reality you could no longer ignore.

“Guess we should get to class,” you said, forcing a lightness into your voice while the weight of his betrayal pressed down on you.

You slammed your locker making Eddie jump a bit hearing the slam. Eddie blinked, clearly startled by the sudden noise. A mix of confusion and concern flashed across his face, but the usual grin still lingered at the corners of his mouth.

“Whoa, easy there,” he said, backing off with raised hands as if trying to placate a wild animal. “Didn’t mean to disturb the masterpiece over here.”

“Don’t act like you weren’t just making fun of me,” you snapped back, but even you could hear the edge of humor in your voice. 

Eddie feigned innocence, placing a hand over his heart. “Me? I would never,” he said, eyes sparkling with mischief. “But if it makes you feel better, I could always pose like a stick figured warrior instead. Less pressure, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you, edging toward a smile.

His playful banter hung in the air, an invisible thread connecting you, but the realization hardened the smile on your lips. Just a bet. Just a game. 

Eddie starts talking about his campagin last night but all you could think about is getting revenge on him. “You should’ve seen it,” Eddie continued, oblivious to the storm brewing within you. “Crawling through the yards, battling against the undead—Lucas got all dramatic about losing his sword, though it was just a stick he found in the woods. I swear, the guy needs a lesson in imagination,” Eddie chuckled, his animated gestures drawing you in despite your frustration. 

“Right, because sticks are the key to a successful campaign ” you replied, your voice laced with dry humor. 

Eddie threw his head back, laughter erupting from his lips. “Absolutely! You’d be surprised at the power of a well-placed stick.” He gestured grandly, illustrating the absurdity with wild swings of his arms, the laughter in his tone like a melody coaxing you to forget the turmoil churning within. 

You matched his enthusiasm with a tight smile, fighting to mask the bitterness. “If only

if only everything else were just as simple,” you murmured, the words slipping out before you could catch them.

Eddie’s laughter faltered, and he turned to you, genuine curiosity flickering in his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”The curiosity in his gaze pulled at any lingering threads of resentment, but you steeled yourself. "Nothing," you replied. You hated that your voice trembled, that you felt so vulnerable standing in front of him as he blinked, searching for something deeper behind your facade. 

“C’mon,” he pressed, his tone softening. “You can’t just drop a line like that and leave me hanging.” 

You took a breath, willing the flicker of unease to settle. Eddie’s concern felt like a chain wrapping tighter around you, holding you in place. 

“What do you want me to say?” Your voice barely held up in the chaos. 

Eddie studied you, his brow furrowing, genuine concern brewing behind his playful exterior. “Just be real for a second. What’s going on?”

You hesitated, caught between the urge to spill everything and the instinct to guard your heart.

You took a deep breathe, rolling your eyes as you kept to yourself heading into the classroom, with a confused Eddie behind falling in step. Inside the classroom, desks sprawled before you like a battlefield. Your mind swirled with chaos, fogging your thoughts while sunlight streamed through the dusty windows.

Eddie plopped onto his seat beside yours, the weight of his presence both familiar and hurtful. 

He leaned back with an exaggerated sigh, arms draping over the backrest. “So, what’s the plan? Are we gonna sit here in silence, or do I need to start cracking more jokes until you crack a smile?” 

You stared at the desk in deep thought not daring to look at him. You thought you meant something to him but he only wanted to please Harrington winning the stupid bet. You pressed your palms flat against the cool surface of the desk, grounding yourself in the midst of the storm swirling inside you. 

“Why do you care?” The words slipped out, sharper than intended.

Eddie turned to you, eyebrows raisedin surprise. “Why wouldn’t I care?”

You broke eye contact, your fingers picking nervously at the edge of your notebook. “You know,” you replied, each word heavy with unspoken tension, “people don’t usually care about stories that aren’t theirs. You just want the thrill, the chase. A bet.”

His expression shifted, confusion sweeping across his features like a shadow. “That’s not—”

“Isn’t it?” You shot back, finally meeting his gaze

with a fire igniting in your chest. You leaned closer, the distance between you and Eddie shrinking but the gulf of understanding growing wider.

“C’mon, you think I’m some trophy for you to snag just because Steve put up a dare ?” The words hung in the air, sharp and unforgiving, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

Eddie's mouth opened, then closed, like a fish out of water, searching for air, for a response. His eyes flickered with

" You think I didn't notice? You think I'm some stupid girl? You don't look at me the way you look at Chrissy over there." Eddie's face fell, disappointment etching its lines deeper. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it?” Your voice broke slightly, turning your vulnerability into a question loaded with disbelief. “Why play me for a dare? You don't even know me!”

“Hey, that’s not fair.” Eddie leaned closer, the intensity in his gaze pinning you like a fluttering moth against the wall. “You think I don’t know you? We’ve been hanging out for weeks and I like you. You’re not just some dare to me.” His sincerity cut through the fog of disbelief that loomed over you.

“Weeks,” you repeated, scoffing. “A couple of jokey lunches and borrowed mixtapes don ’t mean anything when it’s built on a foundation of deceit.”

Eddie flinched, the wind knocked from his sails as your words landed hard between you.

" I mean look at this way, you just wanted to prove Harrington wrong. That's it." Eddie recoiled slightly as if you’d thrown an invisible dart. “You really think I’m that shallow?” His voice wavered, disbelief lacing his words. “You think it’s just about proving some point to Steve?”

“Your always trying to pick a fight or banter with him. You never considered someone else's feelings" Eddie’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your accusation visibly sinking in. “Seriously? You really think I’m the type to just chase a dare?” 

" You can tell Harrington you got me fooled, what a win for Eddie Munson" you clapped, rolling your eyes. His expression darkened, eyes narrowing like a storm brewing on the horizon. “You think I want to just be some mindless pawn in this stupid game? That’s not me!”

“Maybe not,” you shot back, your voice steadying with the anger spilling over. “But it sure looks like it when you let him call the shots.”

Eddie leaned forward, determination igniting his gaze. “You’re not seeing the bigger picture.”

" Oh? Poor Eddie Munson can't get his dick hard then, is that it?" His expression twisted, surprise morphing into something sharper. 

“Wow,” he said, voice low and steady. “That’s a new low, even for you.” Anger tinged his words, but confusion lingered beneath, like a storm.

" Cry me a river, Munson" Eddie's jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with defiance. He exhaled slowly, controlling the fire flickering within. “You’re really painting me with a broad brush here, aren’t you? You don’t even know what I’m capable of.”

“Clearly not much,” you shot back, frustration bubbling over as the hum of classroom chatter faded into the background.

" You're not scary, Eddie. I don't care what your capable of, clearly you can't even get a date" Eddie’s nostrils flared, and the color drained from his face. His frustration morphed into hurt, but underneath the rawness simmered a fierce resolve. “Really? That’s how you see me?”

" Pathetic" Eddie’s eyes narrowed, a mix of hurt and simmering anger flickering within. You felt the air grow heavy, your words echoing like a bell tolling in an empty hall. 

“Pathetic?” His voice dropped an octave, his gaze sharpening like a blade. “You think you can just throw that around without consequences? I’m not some chump you can tear into just for kicks.”

" Oh look, Eddie Munson knows how to talk and use words" Eddie’s expression hardened, discomfort shifting into something more dangerous. “You’re right. I’m not just going to sit here and let you dismiss everything we’ve built. You think I’m trying to play you? I've seen the real you.”

That was a mistake, you're nothing but an asshole that doesn't even know what real feelings are to a woman. You're an idiot Eddie." Eddie inhaled sharply, the wind knocked out of his sails. The laughter from the hallway faded, leaving the classroom swathed in a heavy silence that rippled with tension. 

“Wow.” A rough laugh escaped his lips, but it held a pitiless edge. “So this is what it’s come to, huh? Just lobbing accusations because you found out I’m only a player in someone else’s game?”

" You keep trying to please the wrong people. Tell Harrington I said hello" You turned away, the words a shield against the crack in your resolve. As you gathered your things, a heavy silence bore down on you, thick as fog. Eddie’s presence lingered, a fierce energy that both annoyed and electrified.

You wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand, furious at yourself for breaking under the weight of it all. Folding your arms over the books, you turned your back to him, determined to block out his gaze.

" Dustin was right, I should of never agreed to whatever this was. You broke my heart, congrats. You graduated from Heart Break school..." Eddie’s silence hit like a loaded gun, the air crackling with tension. The chatter from the classroom faded into a muffled hum, isolating the two of you in a bubble thick with unspoken words and heavy breaths. 

Wait,” Eddie said, his voice a low growl cutting through your storm of emotions. You didn’t turn around; fear of his gaze held you captive.

“Just… Let me,” he continued, desperation seeping into his tone.

You remained facing the window, your heart pounding against your ribcage. Outside, laughter danced through the mid-afternoon sun, a world away from the whirlwind inside you.

“Please,” he urged, voice softer, almost trembling. “Just listen to me for a second.”

You remained still, heart pounding. The aching silence stretched between you, a taut rope ready to snap.

“Please, just hear me out,” he pressed, the desperation threading through his voice like crackling electricity. You remained muted, feeling the weight of his gaze boring into your back.

It was wrong for me to listen to Harrington and take the bet, but I couldn't be around you becasue you make me nervous" He says.You turned, slowly. The intensity in his eyes surged with a mix of vulnerability and something deeply raw. 

“Make you nervous?” The disbelief dripped from your voice, thick as molasses. “So you thought a dare was the way to handle that? A bet on my feelings? You weren’t even trying to get to know me, just trying to entertain Steve.” 

Eddie’s jaw clenched, the frustration simmering just below the surface. “You have to understand, it ...was stupid. I’ll admit it. But I had my reasons.” His voice dropped, the bravado slipping away like sand through fingers.

You crossed your arms tighter over your chest, defensive, pushing back the urge to listen—a part of you still wanted to believe in his sincerity, in the sparks that had shot through your shared moments. 

“What reason could possibly justify treating someone's feelings like a game?” You shot back, your voice laced with disbelief.

Eddie hesitated, searching or words amidst the chaos in his mind. “I thought… maybe if I could make Steve eat his words, it’d all be worth it.” He took a deep breath, frustration and regret mingling in his gaze. “You were just too good at making me feel something more than I deserved".

Eddie’s confession hung suspended between you like the hum of electricity before a storm, sparking an array of emotions within. 

“More than you deserved?” You stepped closer, voice barely above a whisper. “Is that really how you see yourself as?” 

Eddie flinched, unsure how to respond. The weight of your gaze bore down on him, and for a moment, silence enveloped you both like an electric shroud. 

“Yes.” His voice trembled, revealing a raw honesty that caught you off-guard. “I thought proving myself to Steve would somehow change that.” 

Eddie’s vulnerability flickered like a candle flame caught in a draft, wobbling between hope and despair.

" Harrington is something else, he will know what's coming. I'll give him a piece of mind" Eddie held your gaze, and the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes transformed into a spark of curiosity. “You think he’ll care?” 

" Not with my foot up his ass, he will be throwing up my shoe laces" Eddie's laugh, unexpectedly rich, broke through the tension. “Now that’s a visual I needed today,” he said, shaking his head, the pain easing momentarily. 

“Glad to entertain,” you shrugged, the ghost of a smile.

" I know where he lives and I know where he works, piece of cake" Eddie’s eyes lit up, a mischievous spark igniting within. “Now that’s the spirit! Maybe we should form a revenge committee or something.” The playful glint shifted the mood slightly, but shadows still clung to the edges.

" You're not off the hook Munson" “Not off the hook?” Eddie’s voice turned more serious, beneath the cocky grin. “You really think I don’t know I messed up here?” He leaned forward on his desk, intensity sharpening his gaze.

" You don't, Eddie. You really hurt me and right now I don't think it's best if we hanged out anymore." Eddie recoiled, as if you’d struck him. The playfulness vanished from his eyes, replaced by a raw vulnerability that tugged at your heart. “You can’t be serious. We had something real, didn’t we?”

" I was stupid to fall in love with you" The words hung between you, heavy with truth. Eddie's face paled, the spark of mischief fading, leaving the raw ache of reality in its wake. 

“Love?” he stammered, voice strained as though processing an overwhelming blow.

" It doesn't matter anymore" He stared at you, bewilderment etching deep lines across his forehead. “It matters to me. Everything with you has meant something deeper than just a dare.” 

" It really hurts. I fell with your brown eyes, the way you laughed, the way your dimples popped out. The way you said my name. The way your arms would feel around me. The way you held my hand and walked me to class. The way you played with my hair and shared lunch with. The way you explained your campaigns to me, the way you let me come to band practice. Eddie you've made me a fool." 

Eddie’s expression shifted, raw pain surfacing behind the layers of bravado. “I never wanted to make you feel like that,” he whispered, as if the weight of your words pressed down on his chest. “I swear.”

" And worst of all, I waited for you until you were ready to kiss me. You told me you needed time and I gave you it but now, you made me into a bet for your own joy" Eddie’s face turned impassive, as if your words carved him into stone. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I never wanted it to come to this—”

“You should have thought of that before playing games with my heart ” you shot back, the heat of your frustration hurling every syllable like a well-aimed arrow. “Words don’t mean anything when they’re just a cover for a stupid dare.” 

He stood up from his seat, stepping closer as his hand reached out to grab your shirt pulling you closer. His grip was firm, but his eyes held an urgency, a request for understanding that tangled with your own hurt. 

" I think... I love you too" His words hung in the air between you like a delicate thread, wavering in the tension of the moment. You searched his gaze, uncertainty swirling within you, battling against the urge to believe him.

“Don’t,” you said, voice low, you don't get to use those words like they are air you breathe." Eddie flinched, the gravity of your words landing like a strike. He stepped back, hands falling to his sides, frustration flickering across his features. “What do you want from me?” he demanded, his voice a harsh whisper.

" I want you to go fuck up Harrington first and then get it through your thick skull how you hurt me, how of an idiot you really are..." “Fine,” Eddie relented, the fire simmering behind his eyes, transformed into determination. “I’ll take down Harrington. But don't think that’s going to fix what’s between us.” 

“Nothing will fix this,” you replied sharply. " I'm really special, in my own way and you've lost that." Eddie studied you, frustration etching lines across his forehead. “You don’t mean that. You can’t.”

The air felt electric, charged with anger and hurt, a volatile concoction swirling around you. You shook your head, tears threatening to spill over with each heated heartbeat. 

"Seriously, Eddie?" You spat, a tremor weaving through your voice. "You still don’t get it? You’ve reduced me to some forgotten whim in your tangled game, and I refuse to let you rewrite my story for your own amusement.”

Eddie’s expression shifted, hurt mingling with anger. “You’re acting like I haven’t tried to show you who I am,” he said, voice rising slightly. “The stupid bet was just a misstep—a foolish attempt to prove a point...” He paused, words tumbling from his mouth like dominoes teetering on the edge. “But I wanted to be more than that. I liked the way you saw me.”

No you liked the attention I gave you" Eddie’s brow furrowed, shadows flickering across his face. “You think that’s all this is? It’s more than just a game for me.” 

“Then why the bet?” You crossed your arms, every word hardening even further into indifference. The classroom buzzed with life around you, students oblivious to the storm brewing in this corner. 

“I don’t know!” Eddie exploded, throwing his hands up in frustration. “It was stupid. I thought it would be easy, a way to impress Steve and prove a point. But then… you came along, and it all became so much more complicated.” 

“Complicated?” You scoffed, feeling the anger bubbling inside. “You turned my life into a circus act while smiling like a clown. I’m not this easy prize you showcase to win over your friends.”

Eddie ran a hand through his hair, his expression a mixture of frustration and desperation. “I didn’t mean for it to turn out like this,” he said, voice lowering, almost cracking. “You’re not just some prize. I never wanted to treat you like one.”

“Then why do it?” The words slipped past your lips, tinged with an urgency that resonated like a drumbeat in the charged silence. You felt the world around you blur into the background, focusing only on him—the boy with wild hair and a leather jacket, standing in stark contrast to the orderly classroom with its rows of desks and bulletin boards cluttered with reminders of school spirit.

His eyes, once playful and bold, now faltered under the weight of your gaze. “Because I hought I could impress him.” Eddie’s voice cracked like brittle glass, revealing the vulnerability beneath his bravado. “I thought it would be funny. It was all a mistake, and then—” 

“Then what?” You pressed, clenching your fists to keep from shaking. The edge in your voice sliced through the tension, a sharp demand for clarity.

“Then I realized,” he began, voice unsteady, “that I liked you. It was never just about the bet. I thought I could have fun, but it spiraled into something real. I didn’t want to hurt you—”

“Then I started to like you.” Crumbling under the weight of his admission, Eddie’s gaze fell, the bravado of moments.

" I thought you loved me?" you asked " Or was that a joke?"Eddie's mouth parted, surprise wiping the smirk from his lips. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, grappling with the weight of your question. “It’s not a joke,” he said, voice strained. “I really do"

" Then why play Harrington's game? To look cool?" Eddie’s brow furrowed, emotions swirling in his dark eyes like a brewing storm. “You think I wanted to? It just… happened. I got caught up in this web of trying to impress him, while something real started stirring between us.” His voice dropped to a whisper, the weight of his admission heavy in the space between you.

" But yet you're not doing anything to show me. Show me you love me." Eddie’s breath caught, caught in the swell of your words. “What more can I do? You think I don’t want to show you? I’ve been juggling everything—trying to prove myself to Steve, trying not to ruin this with you." He ran a hand through his hair, fingers trembling slightly as if trying to grasp the right words.

“Then stop trying to impress him,” you shot back, frustration surging within you. “Start caring about what’s right in front of you. Me.”

You stumbled through the classroom door before Eddie could reach for you, pushing past a group of students gathered by the lockers, oblivious to the storm brewing behind your eyes. You spotted Harrington leaning against his car, the sun glinting off his sunglasses like an unspoken challenge. 

“Hey, where are you going?” Steve called out, pushing himself off the car and approaching, his casual smile fading into confusion as he caught sight of your expression. 

A sharp crack echoed in the air, drowning out the laughter surrounding you. Steve stumbled back, hands shooting up to clutch his now-bloodied nose. Eyes wide, he blinked in stunned disbelief.

“What the hell was that for?” he shouted. " You've made a bet on me, with Munson!" Steve cradled his nose, confusion morphing into realization as he wiped away the blood. “Whoa, what—” His wide eyes darted between you and where Eddie hovered near the entrance, uncertainty shadowing his face. “You can’t just go around treating people like pawns in your little games, Harrington!” Your voice cut through the air, sharp and demanding.

Steve straightened, wincing as he wiped blood onto his sleeve. “What are you talking about?”

" You know exactly what you little shit!" Steve stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender. “Whoa, whoa. Let’s not escalate things here.”

“Not escalate?” You glared at him, fingers clenching into fists. “You orchestrated the whole thing! Shall I tell Nancy? Does she know? " “Hey, come on!” Steve protested, the confusion in his eyes shifting to defensiveness. “It was just a stupid bet! I didn't mean for it to blow up like this.” 

“Stupid bet? You’ve turned my feelings into a joke!” You retorted, the fire in your veins boiling over. Steve raised his hands defensively, taken aback. 

“Okay, okay, but it was just supposed to be a bit of fun, alright? I didn’t think it would actually go this far.” 

Rage surged through you, hot and unyielding. “Fun? You think making someone a trophy is fun? You turned me into a punchline.”

As you were about to swing again, Eddie grabs you and turns you around to face him as he stares into your eyes. Eddie’s grip on your arms felt grounding, a stark contrast to the swirling chaos inside. His eyes locked onto yours, raw with a mix of determination and something deeper. 

“Let me handle this,” he said, voice low and steady, yet somehow soothing amidst the whirlwind. 

“Eddie, no,” you protested, pulling your gaze away. The electricity in his eyes sparked a flicker of hope, but the anger roiling within you demanded attention. 

“Just… trust me ,” he urged, his voice steady as it wrapped around you like a protective shield. The intensity in his gaze pulled at the fraying edges of your resolve, urging you to let go of the anger, if only for a moment.

This time Eddie pushes Steve against his car, seething with anger.Eddie’s hands gripped Steve’s jacket, slamming him against the cold metal of the car. Steve’s eyes widened, the breath knocked from his lungs. “You ever think about how your little pranks can ruin someone’s life?” Eddie demanded, his breath hitching with the weight of pent-up fury.

“Eddie, chill!” Steve gasped, hands bracing against the car as he struggled to find his balance. Panic stirred in his eyes, disbelief mixing with realization as he stammered, “Look, man, it was supposed to be harmless! I didn't know she’d get all worked up over it.”

Eddie's grip tightened, his expression a tempest of anger and hurt. “Harmless? You think making her the butt of your joke is harmless?” he snarled, his voice low and fierce, each word slicing through the simmering tension. 

Steve stumbled over his words, desperation lacing his tone. “I didn’t think—”

" what's going on here? " Robin asks as she walks up to the car. The words hung in the air, a sudden distraction that sliced through the tension. Robin's presence arrived like a breath of fresh air, abrupt and disarming. She tilted her head, arms crossed, a look of bewilderment clouding her face.

" Why is his nose bleeding? Eddie what did you do?" She continued to ask. Eddie released Steve, who slid down the car with a gasp, cradling his nose as he winced. “It’s not what you think, Robin,” Eddie shot back, frustration lacing his voice. He turned to you, eyes still burning with a mix of anger and desperation. You could feel the weight of Robin’s gaze on you, a careful observer caught in the aftermath of something chaotic and unfiltered. 

“Okay, so what’s happening? Because I just saw a punch thrown and now I’m confused.” Robin stepped closer, concern etching into her features as she glanced between you, Eddie, and a dazed Harrington, who was struggling to regain his composure.

Eddie turned to Robin, catching his breath as he rubbed the back of his neck, frustration simmering beneath the surface. “Your pal Harrington here decided to treat my girlfriend like a bet,” he said, venom thickening the final word.

“Steve made a bet,”

Robin blinked slowly, her confusion deepening as she processed the accusation. “A bet? On what?” 

Eddie turned his intensity on Steve, the fury still crackling in the air. “On her! He thought I wouldn’t be able to snag a date with her. Said it was a challenge.”

Robin’s mouth hung open, disbelief morphing into a frown. “A date? Are you serious? You're such a dingus!!” She shifted her gaze to Steve.

Steve winced, the gravity of her words sinking in like lead. “It was just a dumb dare, Robin. I thought it’d be funny!” He looked around, desperation spilling from his eyes.

“Funny?” Robin’s voice cut through the air, disbelief etched across her features. “You think betting on someone’s emotions is funny? You were supposed to be better than this, Harrington!”

“That’s enough!” Eddie barked, his hands slamming against the car, fists trembling at his sides. “You need to understand that this isn’t just a game. You don’t treat people as pawns in some ridiculous contest. You never know how it can affect them!”

Robin stepped forward , her jaw set with determination. “This isn’t just about jokes or bets, Steve. You’ve crossed a line. You have to take responsibility for your actions.” She shot a glare at him, her frustration palpable even in the shifting tension.

" I'm sorry" Steve says to you. " I was an idiot" He adds. “An idiot?” Your voice sharpens, the hurt leaking through your words. “You think that covers it?”

Steve fidgets with the collar of his shirt, avoiding your gaze. “I didn ’t mean for it to come out like that. It was just some stupid bet.”

“Stupid bet?” you shot back, eyebrows raised. “You treat people like that for fun?”

“Come on, it wasn’t supposed to be serious. We were just messing around,” Steve stammered, glancing toward the ground.

You think this is funny? You played with my feelings like they were a game, Steve.” 

The sun hung low, casting long shadows over the school parking lot. The fading light wrapped around you like a cold shroud.

“Listen,” he began, " how about free movies for a year?"Your laugh burst out, sharp and humorless. “Movies? You think I’m going to be swayed by popcorn and a flick?” 

" How about driving you to school every morning?" Eddie cuts Steve off, " No your not!"You turned your head, the noise drawing your attention.

How about you let me drive your car whenerver I want? How about you let me put a bet on you and see how you feel?" Steve looks in horror at you. “Do you even hear yourself right now?” Your voice drips with disbelief. 

“Look, I get it. I messed up,” he stammered, hands raised in a half-hearted defense. 

“ Or should I send Hargrove on you?" you asked.Steve’s eyes darted around, scanning for an escape. “Okay, that’s low. You know Hargrove...”

" I'm still here" Eddie says. Eddie leaned against the rusted side of Steve's car, tossing a crumpled soda can into the nearby wastebasket. “And I’d love to hear more about this bet.”

Steve groans, " how about you do the same thing to Nancy as Eddie did to me? Then you'll feel how I feel? Hmm?" you asked. " How about I call Nancy instead?" Eddie raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh, you mean turn our sweet little Steve into the town’s biggest villain? I’d love front-row."

“Please don’t,” Steve whispered, his face flushing crimson.

Eddie chuckled, running a hand through his dark curls. “Relax, Harrington. I wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation of being the good guy."

Steve shot Eddie a glare, frustration radiating off him like heat from a fire. “It’s not a joke, Munson. You don’t get it.”

" Look I'm so sorry for making the bet with Eddie. It won't happen again" Steve says to you. You crossed your arms, the bite of his apology doing little to thaw the ice between you. “It’s too late for regrets, Steve. You can’t just wipe this away with an 'I’m sorry' and expect it to all be fine."

Your hand reaches for his keys. " You should walk home, I'll drive Robin home" you smirked. Steve’s eyes widened, panic flickering across his face. “Wait, what? You can’t just—”

“Watch me.” You turned your back on him, the weight of his gaze heavy on your shoulders as you approached Robin.

Eddie is laughing as Steve glares while Robin high fives you. “Now that’s what I call a comeback,” Robin said, her grin wide as she fell in step beside you. 

You slid into the driver’s seat, your hands gripping the wheel, knuckles white. Robin hopped in, a bounce inher step as she settled into the passenger seat. “You know he’s going to sweat bullets all the way home, right?” 

“Good,” you replied, tapping the ignition.

"He's walking for the rest of the week" you tell her. Robin leaned back in her seat, arms crossed, the corner of her mouth quirking up. “You know this whole thing will blow over, right? You’re not really going to drive him crazy forever?” 

" Let see him use those legs first" you pulled down the window shoutign at Steve, " Is that even walking?" Steve stood there, mouth agape, hands thrown up in surrender. 

“Real mature!” he shouted, embarrassment deepening the blush on his cheeks. “You can’t just act like this forever!” 

" This is my game now, Harrington" Eddie is laughing clutching his stomach. " You're not off the hook, Munson." “Let’s not start acting like I’m the villain here,” Eddie shot back, a playful glimmer in his eyes.

" you look like your pissing your pants, Harrington!" you shouted as you pass him driving his car. “Very funny!” Steve called after you, hands balled into fists at his sides. 

You rode the car in step with Steve, smirking. " move those legs, or are you too slow now a days? Is being the babysitter gettign to you?" Steve tossed his hands up in frustration, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “You think this is just a joke, don’t you?” His voice strained against the surge of humiliation.

" your fly is undone anyways" you laughed. Steve's cheeks flared crimson, hands darting to his zipper. “You’re unbelievable!” 

Eddie is driving behind the car, laughing watching it unfolds. 

" You need another leg, Harrington" you laughed watching as he stomped home. Steve growled ready to bang on his own car when you drove further making him chase the car. You pressed the accelerator, the tires screeching against the pavement as the distance between you and Steve widened. 

Behind you, Eddie’s laughter echoed, the sound infectious. 

“Look at him!” Eddie pointed, his voice rising above the roar. " Good luck getting home, Harrington!"

Steve flipped him off.

[zxoaii]

Touch

fem! reader x bodyguard Choso

Summary: After the being sent to attend an event, Y/n and Choso find themselves more caught up with each other.

SMUT

WC: 2k

Wattpad: _Bolter

[ Y/n ]

"You look good in a suit." Choso looks at me while I adjust his tie. "You are stunning. No one is going to notice me with you right next to me." He's always so sweet.

"Thank you."

The elevator door rings out and the doors open. Choso offers me his arm. I take it as we walk into the foyer of the ballroom.

"Good evening." The host draws our attention to him. My bag clicks open as I retrieve the invitation. "He's my plus one." Of course, if he knows who I am he'd know that.

Money and Jujutsu Sorcery don't usually meet but somewhere, they did. I wouldn't say my clan is completely good but we are a force to be reckoned with.

My mother is the current head of the clan and because of my apparent lack of cursed energy, I was assigned a bodyguard.

I've had several throughout my life but this one is my favorite. Choso is a gentleman. He's caring and friendly. Not to mention, he is not bad-looking at all.

He isn't even a Jujutsu Sorcerer. He's a half-curse.

We walk into the crowded ballroom together. I love parties. They're a nightmare for him. He wouldn't ever say it out loud though.

Choso instinctively takes his arm away from me and falls two paces behind me. Technically we're supposed to act like he isn't here.

Still, it saddens me to lose his touch.

"Ms. Y/l/n, you look incredible. The last time I saw you, you were only a teenager. It's been so long!" I'm thrown into a conversation before I can tell Choso he should stand with me.

The night starts to drag on with insignificant conversations one after another. Being polite is exhausting. Especially when it's spent being polite to people who can't help but be self-obsessed.

As soon as I get a chance I excuse myself to go get a drink. I take Choso's arm and lead us to the drink table. "Do you want some?"

Choso shakes his head. Oh well. I take a glass of champagne for myself. It's a shame this is all they choose to serve. Still, it's better than nothing.

"How long have we been here?"

"45 minutes."

I want to spit my drink out. Only 45 minutes? It feels like we've been here for hours. I've been talking for hours. It's impossible.

"Seriously?"

Choso nods and scans the room. "Come on, there's not actually anyone here who's going to do anything to me." He gives me an unsure glance. "How long do we have to stay for?" My feet ache already. It's freezing in here. I would rather be anywhere else and I'd rather it just be him and I.

"You're supposed to stay for an hour and a half at least."

"What if I say I'm sick?"

Choso takes my empty glass from me and returns it to the table. "We came all this way just for this." He reminds me.

He looks so good in his suit. If I could have a picture of him dressed up like this I'd keep it in a locket.

"Y/n!" A voice calls out excitedly from behind me.

I really hate parties.

.  .  .

Choso sits in the front seat of the car as we're driven to our hotel. I can't stop admiring him. My cheeks flush when he looks at me through the rearview.

We hold eye contact until I look away.

The driver eventually stops in front of our hotel and opens my door for me. "Thank you." I step out of the car. Warm humid air wraps itself around my bare skin.

Choso follows behind me as I make my way inside. I can't come up with any valid reasons as to why I'd need to go to his room.

The walk through the lobby, then the elevator ride, and finally the walk to my room are all too short. I don't have enough time to think of something.

I stop at my door to give myself a second to think.

"Are you ok?"

My hand lingers on the doorknob for a moment before falling to my side. "Choso, you should come in with me."

I turn to look at him after I ask. "What?" This is the first time I've seen him so caught off guard. Maybe that's because he usually stands behind me.

"I want you to come in with me."

"We have our own rooms." Despite his now hardened reaction, his cheeks are red with blush. "Ok." I stop pushing and unlock my door.

"Goodni-"

Choso's hand lands on the door to stop it from shutting. He looks down at me from his place in the doorway. I step out of his way and he walks into the room. The door shuts behind him, leaving us in darkness. Some of the city lights illuminate parts of the room.

Just enough so I can see him.

My heart beats heavily in my chest as I reach out to touch him. Choso steps closer to me and allows me to start undoing his tie.

It falls to the floor but my hands remain on his chest. I have to stand on my toes to reach his lips. Choso leans in and meets me in a kiss.

My hands grip his shirt in fistfuls. Our kiss becomes increasingly desperate. My back meets the wall with a thud. One of his hands lands on the wall next to my head. The other finds its way onto my back.

Choso follows my spine with his fingers. He reaches the nape of my neck and takes the zipper of my dress. The straps fall from my shoulders as the zipper is drawn lower and lower.

When the entire thing is unzipped I let it pool around my ankles. Choso lifts me and carries me across the room. He handles me so gently. I'm laid carefully onto the bed.

My heels are slipped off my feet and then tossed across the room. Choso's lips start at my ankles and trail upwards. Each kiss leaves me more and more entranced by his touch.

As his lips meet my thighs he starts to linger longer. My fingers reach out and grab his hair. He continues up to my hips and for a moment I think he might keep going until our lips meet again.

Instead, he hooks my underwear with his fingers and gives himself more access to me. His touch runs hot across my skin as he pulls my underwear down completely.

"Is this ok?"

"You don't have to ask."

My hands encourage his movements. Choso's lips meet my core in a heated kiss. The kiss feels starved like he needs me to live. He shifts my left leg over his shoulder to give himself better access.

"Oh my god..." I sit up, resting on my elbows to look at him. Choso is still completely dressed. Despite how good-looking he is in his suit, I want it off.

"Take your shirt off."

Choso doesn't falter or stop. Instead, he works his jacket off and lets it fall to the floor. He starts working on the buttons down his shirt until he can take that off too.

His back is painted with scars that remind me of where he came from. My eyes are drawn down by his. Choso watches me through lustful hooded eyes.

His tongue presses against my clit causing my legs to bend instinctively. The dim lights from the window draw harsh shadows across his body.

Choso's hair is a mess from my hands. It falls into his face and tickles the inside of my thighs. Still, he deepens his movements.

The graze of his teeth against sensitive flesh causes a gasp. My hips grind against his mouth as he presses his tongue flat against me. Choso lets out a deep moan that vibrates through my body.

Pleasure starts to build up within me overwhelmingly quickly. "Don't stop." My pleas are answered by Choso's quickened kissing.

He moans once more. My eyes fall lower, following his arm. Choso masturbates as he eats me out. "Shit." The sigh drags on with my orgasm.

Choso doesn't stop until I fall back onto the bed. He pulls away breathlessly and fully removed his pants. His toned chest is also littered with scars that only continue to turn me on.

"Can you continue?" He licks his lips and runs his hand along my thigh. "Yes." Choso nods and reaches up to remove my bra. "You're fucking beautiful." His hands run along my body as if to memorize the feeling.

I shift to the edge of the bed, sitting on my knees so I can kiss him. This kiss is soft. Choso's hand carefully holds my chin. I follow him blindly as he sits down on the bed.

We pull away for a moment. Gentle hands guide me onto his lap. Choso holds my back as I fit him inside of me. The pain turns to pleasure within a minute.

Our eyes stay locked as I roll my hips. My nails dig into his back as I move against him. "Y/n." My name comes out as a plead more than a statement.

My desperate movements become quicker at his unsaid request. Choso peppers kisses along my neck and shoulders. He finds a spot and begins to suck on it to leave a mark.

I tilt my head to the side to give him more access. "Ah- Choso!" He bites down on my neck. I don't know if he drew blood or not but his tongue traces the bite mark several times before he moves on.

Choso's hands grip my ass. He guides me vertically in addition to my horizontal movements. Our moans grow louder together as I follow his movement.

"You're so fucking perfect." Choso catches my lips after his comment, only for a moment. He watches me with such loving eyes my heart flutters in my chest.

Has he always looked at me like this?

The buildup of my second orgasm comes along with his. His grip on me tightens, I feel the twitch of his cock inside me, and his head falls forward onto my shoulder.

Choso mumbles words I can't hear over the sound of my own moans. My orgasm washes over me so intensely that my legs twitch at his side.

We hold each other for a minute before I shift off of his lap to lie down. Choso collapses down next to me. My hand finds his, intertwining our fingers.

"You're... Unbelievable."

The smile on my face feels like it might never go away again. "Do you like me, Choso?" I look over at him from my spot.

"Like you? Of course I like you." He meets my eyes for a moment before shyly looking away. "Do you have deeper feelings for me?"

If the lighting was better I think I'd be able to see that bright red blush all across his face. "I do." His eyes search the ceiling for anything to look at other than me.

"I have deeper feelings for you too." I sit up so he can't avoid looking at me. "You do?" I brush his sweaty hair from his face. "Of course." Choso doesn't return my happy grin.

Instead, he sits up and meets my lips in another passionate kiss. My arms lock around his shoulders to hold him closer. I'd stay like this forever if I had the choice.

Choso pauses for a moment then pulls away. He rubs my thigh as his eyes trail along my neck. He stops at the spot I assume he had bitten. My fingers feel across the skin for a moment before finding the mark.

"I'm sorry. You just tasted so good."

"Don't talk."

I lean back in and happily take another kiss from him. The bite mark will be hard to hide, especially since nothing I packed covers my neck.

Still, if he wanted to bite me again he could.

We could do this all over again as many times as he wants.

[rekino2114]

Hello! This is my first time requesting! I hope you write it later on! :D

 

How about the Chainsaw Man Girls Celebrating Their S/O Birthday? 

The chainsaw man girls celebrating your birthday

A/n:so this request was actually sent only a few days ago but I decided to anticipate it because today is actually my birthday and that's on theme. Thanks a lot to everyone who wished me happy birthday by the way

(I know today was supposed to be a drdt daturday but my birthday comes first)

Makima

Be prepared to have the best birthday anyone could possibly ask for, makima will literally do anything you want and make sure there isn't a moment where you aren't happy,from the moment you wake up to when you fall asleep together

She will give you the best cake money can buy, with your favorite flavors and decorate it however you want it to be (spoon feeding it to you, obviously)

As for the gifts she just brought you everything you expressed interest in during the year, from talking to her about how much you liked it to a simple glance in the shopping mall, she brought it. And don't even worry about how much it cost, she has enough money whatever it is

Makima never thought she'd truthfully celebrate a human's birthday let alone do this much, but you're the person who she loves more than anything, seeing you happy makes her heart swell with love she wants nothing but to celebrate the birth of the person who made her a human

"Happy birthday my love, I hope you get to spend another wonderful year of your life by my side, I love you so much"

Power

(I want you all to know I was this close to making a joke about "that scene," but I decided against it to avoid spoilers.....and also because every time I look at that panel I get the urge to stab makima 37 times in the chest)

She.....might have forgotten about it and only remembered when denji and aki mentioned it to her. In any other case she wouldn't care about a stupid human's birthday but since it was you she genuinely felt guilty.

Preparing your party was a group effort with her friends, she asked aki to bake you a cake and denji to put the decorations on while she.......she didn't really do that much, just kinda looked at them while they worked, which made the two guys mad at her

She didn't know what to get you (she said her presence was enough of a gift), but after being pressured by her friends, she just drew you a picture of you together and wrote you a letter with all of the love she felt for you written down

The drawing.....wasn't the best and her calligraphy was quite bad but you really appreciated the effort, you could tell she really loved you and wanted to express that.

"Happy birthday human! I'm happy you have survived another year to be with the great power......Hm....i-i love you, h-here's your gift...i-i put a lot of effort in it"

Himeno

She threw a straight-up party for you, inviting every one of your friends, including all members of division 4. You all had fun and laughed together, but she made sure the attention was all on you, it's your special day after all.

During the day she acts like there's nothing special going on, just being her normal self but not ignoring you so you don't get mad her but then in the evening she tells you makima assigned you two to a special mission but then she brought you to a bar where your party is being held before scooping you up in her arms and telling you happy birthday

She brought a classic cake and a gift she knew you wanted for a while (she might have also told everyone there to bring you a gift too) she also definitely sang happy birthday to you while everyone else (including you) was embarrassed

She tried not to get too drunk this time as she wanted to remember this amazing moment, and she actually succeeded. She spends all night near you being even more affectionate than usual and complimenting you every 5 seconds

"Happy birthday, babe! You thought I forgot, didn't you? Don't worry, I could never. I hope you enjoy the party cause it's just the beginning~"

Kobeni higashiyama

She was very ready for this day, she put a reminder on her calendar and prepared herself for it, she wanted to celebrate you and the fact that you loved her

She tried baking the cake herself, and it actually came out pretty good. She didn't know she could actually bake but she found out she was okay at it, that kinda raised her confidence just by a small bit though

She actually made you a handmade gift. Maybe she learned how to sew to make a shirt, or maybe she knit you a scarf, whatever you prefer, she specifically made it for you. The reasons why she chose to do this were 1:she didn't have enough money to buy you what she thought was a good enough gift, and 2: she wanted to show you how much you truly meant to her, she learned a new skill just for you.

She's just smiling the entire day, when you're eating the cake, when you open her gift and when you hug her telling her how much you loved it (she almost passed out from how much she blushed there)

"H-happy birthday y/n, i-I actually made you this, I hope you like it......oh y-you do? Thanks so much, i-i just wanted to do this, it's your special day after all"

Quanxi (and her harem)

They actually decided to throw you a surprise party with only the six of you, like himeno they tried to act like it wasn't a special day, quanxi was definitely the most successful at that as she doesn't show that much emotion in the first place, her girlfriends however had some issues....you saw them giggling to themselves and getting all nervous when your birthday was brought up

Quanxi took you out on a date while the fiends decorated your place and prepared the cake. When you got back, they all hid and jumped out, yelling surprise and laughing.

They each brought you a gift that they knew you'd like. Some of them brought it, and others handmade it. It's really sweet because they'll take turns giving you the gifts and making speeches about how much they love you while the other girls hype her up

They also each take turns kissing you and hugging you all resulting in a giant puddle of affection that make you feel so so loved and warm

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!/HALLOWEEN!"

"I think I can speak for all of us when I say that the day you entered our lives was amazing, you made all of us feel even more loved than we already were, we cannot thank you enough, happy birthday y/n"

Asa mitaka

She was both excited and nervous for this day, excited because she got an opportunity to do something to show how much you truly changed her life and you meant to her but nervous because what would happen to your relationship if she did something you wouldn't like? Would you break up with her? These thoughts plague her mind often, but especially on occasions like this

In a surprising twist, it was actually yoru who helped her gain confidence, mentally slapping her (like actually slapping her in her mind) and telling her to stop whining because you'll definitely like what she did for you, it was pretty surprising for asa seeing the war devil actually being nice to her, but she thanked her and calmed down

She brought you a cake and something you told her you wanted but didn't have enough money to buy, she saved enough to buy it from doing part time jobs and other stuff only for you.

She also made a speech that she wrote down and studied the night before like it was a test. In that speech, she told you everything she ever wanted to tell you, how much she loves you, how just being near you makes her feel so much better, how you make all of the struggles in her life easier just by being there near her and how much she wants to spend the rest of her life with you.

"S-so did you like it? The party, the speech, everything,.....I just want to say....thank you, you make my life worth living, i-i truly love you"

Yoru

She doesn't fully understand the concept of birthdays. Why would a human want to celebrate the fact that they're one year closer to death? But this time she made an effort for you

She did threaten basically everyone who she needed something from, the bakery to get your cake and the store to get your gift, they should be thankful it was her partner's birthday and so she felt merciful and didn't kill anyone, she also forced asa to decorate her house but the girl doesn't mind that much since you're her friend

Other than the gift she stole brought for you, she also made you something herself, a shield shaped badge she made by turning a small thing into a shield with her powers, she told you to always wear it as it signified that she would always protect you

(I can't remember if she can actually make shield, I still consider them weapon so I feel like she could)

Even if she'd never admit it, seeing you happy over she did made her (asa's?) Heart flutter, she thought she only loved destruction and bloodshed before she met you but she found out she was wrong...she loved you too

"Hm? You like it? Oh thanks but it's nothing, I can literally make one whenever I want, oh... You're talking about the party, well you're welcome, I don't understand human customs but it's the least I could do for you, thanks I love you"

Fami

The moment she found out when your birthday was, she made a lot of reservations to every restaurant you like. You're getting a day full of eating, and you don't get a choice in it

You're having a literal feast for every meal of the day, whether it be at fancy restaurants or fast food or just something fami tried to make or ordered from take out places, all of it are all of your favorite foods that she shares with you, she had to stop herself multiple times from just devouring everything but seeing you enjoy the food was enough to make her happy

All of it culminated when she brought you home and gave you your cake. It was actually something she made, and it was pretty good. She wanted to make something special for you with her bare hands to show you her care. Even if she's not the best cook, the cake still tastes amazing to you cause you can taste all the love in it

This was probably the day you saw her smile the most. Just seeing you eating and looking at her, you looked so precious and amazing. She wants to see you like that more, the look of gratitude and love you give her feel more delicious than any food could ever be

" So what was the best food you ate today? Uh? My cake? It's really nothing special it was actually the first time I ever cooked something.....thank you. I'm glad you liked it, I love you Happy birthday"

[eirenical]

For the WIP game, laugh??

Well, you just gave me an excuse to post a very belated...

WiP Wednesday

...so, thank you, @thehumantrampoline! ;D

[If anyone else wants to send words for the WiP game, please do! And if you want to try specifying a fandom, you can do so. If it's a fandom I've been in, odds are I have a WiP for it. XD]

Set about 6-12 months after Li Lianhua visits Tianji Hall to impart a little Yangzhouman-healing to Fang Duobing...

[Earlier snippets of this fic in no particular order.]

Li Lianhua put the latest of Xiaobao's letters into the box with the rest and tucked it away.  Most of his letters were much the same: effusive thanks, admonishments to take care of himself, threats against Wuyan's imaginary thieving impulses, offers of hospitality… and now this.

Li Lianhua lifted the box that had come with this latest letter.  He'd ignored Xiaobao's offer of gifts and assistance, because such things hadn't been necessary.  They had their garden, they had his doctoring skills, and Lao Di had numerous accounts that no one in Jinyuanmeng was even aware of, much less would notice if they were utilized.  They didn't want for anything… at least not anything money could buy.

It seemed, however, that Xiaobao was determined to send gifts, regardless of their need or lack thereof.  Li Lianhua slowly opened the box, then sucked in a breath.

The hairpin was delicate silver in the shape of a branch, with little fans of needle-like leaves sprouting from the forked end.  It was delicately made, but had a comforting heft to it, sturdy enough to take some rough handling.  It wasn't the quite the lotus theme he had been thus far drawn to in the hair ornaments he'd worn in this new life, but it was close kin.  Li Lianhua rans his fingers over it, a smile twitching onto his lips in spite of himself.

It was beautiful.

It also wasn't an entirely appropriate gift for a child to give an adult.  The craftsmanship was masterful, the detailing exquisite; it must have cost a small fortune.  And if Li Lianhua wished to spend that kind of money on his hair ornaments, then he would have done.  He didn't need a child picking out his accessories.

…then again, the money was already spent.  So what was the harm?

Later on, as he was making dinner, gentle fingers ran themselves along the new hairpin, where it was threaded through his hair, before drifting down his neck in a gentle caress.  Li Lianhua shivered as those hands were replaced by lips and a hint of teeth.  Just as Li Lianhua was about to put down his knife and forget about dinner for a while, those hands and those lips disappeared, replaced by a low grumble of a voice.

"The hairpin is new."

A pause.

"Fang Duobing?"

Li Lianhua returned to chopping up the vegetables for dinner.  "How did you know?"

"He might have mentioned it one or two letters ago.  Sent a drawing.  Asked if I thought you'd like it."

Li Lianhua snorted out a brief laugh.  "Did he, now.  And you neglected to warn me about this, why?"

Those hands returned, this time wrapping around his middle, A-Fei's body pressed all along his back.  There was still enough of a chill in the air from the last vestiges of winter that Li Lianhua appreciated the heat that came with the cuddling, but it was going to be far more difficult to cook with A-Fei hanging off of him like an octopus.  "That isn't an answer, Lao Di."

A-Fei buried his smile into the crook of Li Lianhua's neck, along with a few scattered kisses.  When he eventually lifted his head, Li Lianhua's own head was spinning just a little, and he'd almost forgotten his own question by the time Lao Di answered it.

"I wanted it to be a surprise."

Li Lianhua took a moment to regather his widely scattered thoughts before responding.  "…why?"

Lao Di stepped back, taking all that lovely warmth with him, as he slowly slid the hair ornament out of his own hair and began to strip off his outer layers.  Li Lianhua found himself shivering again… and not altogether from the cold.  By the time A-Fei had reached the bed and stretched out on it, he was completely, gloriously nude.  He crooked a finger in Li Lianhua's direction, and for just a moment, Li Lianhua had no idea how he was supposed to respond to all of that on display in his bed.

Then A-Fei smiled.  "Don't you want the rest of your present?"

…maybe he could get used to surprises.

[kiwikiswia]

💙💚 (🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅

[jessicas-pi]

hear me out on this ok. ROTS AU where Anakin still turns to the dark side but that's Palpatine's problem.

So, Palpatine decides last minute that ehhhh maybe dooku could come in handy later and he doesn't encourage Anakin to kill him, and Dooku gets arrested and imprisoned in the Jedi Temple awaiting trial. (Also he didn't get his hands cut off because of uhh plot reasons?)

Fast forward.

Palpatine is encouraging Anakin towards the Dark side, tells him about Plagueis the Wise, etc. etc. But see, the thing is, Anakin is at the end of his tether, probably hasn't slept more than three hours over the past week, and has no remaining impulse control or inhibitions, and upon hearing that the Dark Side can save people from death, his first thought is, "wait a sec, we've got a Sith Lord in-house at the moment!" and he sprints out of the space opera and books it back to the temple.

Now, Dooku has been calmly waiting in Temple custody, confident that Darth Sidious will arrange his escape. But THEN Anakin barges into the cell like OMG THE CHANCELLOR TOLD ME THE SITH KNOW HOW TO KEEP PEOPLE FROM DYING AND I'M HAVING DREAMS ABOUT SOMEONE DYING AND I NEED YOUR HELP TO SAVE THEM

At which point, Dooku realizes Palpatine's plan. He's going to tempt Skywalker to the Dark side and REPLACE DOOKU. this is totally uncool.

So he's like "...who are you dreaming about, exactly?"

Anakin freezes. He can't admit it's Padme because their relationship is top-secret and he can't admit how important she is to him so he tries to think of a good fib and goes "uhhhh OBI-WAN! Obi-Wan, it's Obi-Wan, I'm dreaming about Obi-Wan dying-" and he just throws himself into the drama because now he IS imagining obi-wan dying because Obi-Wan is fighting grievous at the moment and he MIGHT ACTUALLY DIE and that's in addition to Padme dying and he's totally spiraling at this point- "pleasepleaseplease you gotta help me he's like the only father i've ever known I don't know what i'll do without obi-wan I have to save him YOU GOTTA TELL ME WHAT TO DO I'LL DO ANYTHING--"

Dooku begins to smile.

(Would stealing Skywalker out from under his Master's nose be petty? Oh, yeah.)

(But it would also be very, very satisfying.)

---

Obi-Wan calls in to a council meeting to report his defeat of Grievous, but before he can say so, Mace announces that Dooku has escaped and the Sith Master has been killed.

Silence falls between the eleven councilmembers (eleven, not twelve, because their newest one is conspicuously absent. Obi-Wan wonders just what Anakin's up to now. Honestly, that boy will be the death of him.)

Obi-Wan clears his throat.

"...indeed," he says, trying to handle the shocking news with composure. "Well... at least we're down to one Sith, now."

Another awkward pause.

"Yeah, about that--" Mace begins.

[crescentfool]

does anyone else want to stick these two in the same room together or is that just me... i simply think they are adjacent in vibes... (+a bonus thing???)

get u a fictional guy that makes you feel like this... seeing these guys just evoke a Similar Kind of Brain Chemical and Response. Help Me.

also have bonus yosuke doodle featuring the same brushes used here...! from january 23rd, lol.

[raininyourblackeyes]

My cousin, a published writer, a well-known poet in my country and a literature professor, for whom I've always been no.1 support ever since her first attempts at writing in high school, told me that I must stop writing as a hobby because that's her thing and since I'm writing fantasy mostly my writing could never have any important artistic value anyways.

[jazzzzzzhands]

Oh I got an ask!! And ohh it feels good to draw again!

It's nice to have an excuse to doodle!

Please I welcome asks of art requests during this time of art block!

(i also miss my Groovy au if someone wants to send me an ask..)

[triglycercule]

guys i havent written since may (for killer's birthday) but stupid silly swapinverse has been on my mind for a little bit and i threw together this silly (he has a panic attack and throws up) little short draft 4 swapinverse horror!!

-

“hah… ah… oh god… no, no, nonono…”

he ran. sprinted through the forest like a frightened deer, his demeanor that of prey, although his previous actions aligned more of a predator. panting and shaking, his mind cycled through countless variations of how to react to what just happened, what he just did.

how should he react? how could he react? it was impossible to tell for him in the panicked state. and as the trees in snowdin slowly began to surround him (but weren't they always doing that?), paranoia couldn't run anymore. he was surrounded, he was blocked off, he couldn't escape. not from horrortale, not from snowdin, not from the dusty graveyard he had just left it, and not from the blood smeared across his mouth.

“no, i- what did, what did i do? paps, snowdin, even-undick, no, it-”

paranoia’s incoherent rambles brought his hands to wander across his face, tugging at the massive hole in his skull spanning majority of the left side of his head. picking at the chipped bone didn't help, it never did, but a nervous habit was unbreakable, and he was more than nervous in this moment. in fact, quite terrified. everything was terrifying. he was terrifying. and as the slightest hint of red blood touched his sleeve, the once red, now magenta eye quickly locked onto it, and he couldn't hold it back anymore.

“fuck- oh god, no, aliza-!”

falling to his knees, a disgustingly gorey mess of red, pink, and black spilled from his mouth. sounds of retching and hurling were all that filled the empty forest, and paranoia couldn't bear to look down and see the mess he’d made. the mess he’s caused. wasted food, he would've said. but that statement normally only applied to others. he never imagined using it on himself. choking on his spit and certainly not his blood, tears fell from his eye, joining the vomit and blood seeping into the snow. strange. paranoia didn't think he had enough magic to even shed tears anymore. just for the bare necessities. he managed to surprise even himself, after all this time.

but could it be could be considered surprise, or rather terror? he fit up to his name, certainly horrified at his own actions. forcing out as much of the grossness he could that he’d just consumed, paranoia couldn't help but look down at what he’d done.

red. a lot of red. too much red. he’d never been queasy before, never. he had to adapt to it, being the one to hunt down humans that ran or sneak up on those when times got desperate. there was no time or need to be queasy at what he even considered his job before. a duty he had to do.

but now, there was too much red. far too much red. and he didn't know why, although he totally knew, but paranoia couldn't stomach it. he just threw his guts out (shouldn't they be aliza’s guts, or no?), and here he was, wanting to throw up until his SOUL shattered. his SOUL cycled through those strange 4 shapes, unsure of which to settle on. he couldn't blame it. paranoia himself was unsure of what was even going on anymore. he wanted to run, but was frozen. he wanted to scream, but didn't know who at.

everything was contradicting. everything was going on, and not enough was given for paranoia to understand how to deal with it. and with a muttered curse, he flopped on his side onto the somehow dry snow, losing consciousness in the haze of fear now intermingled with his SOUL.

-

ik theres probably grammar mistakes i wrote this on my phone,,,, but like idk. had idea for a little moment in paranoia's lore and i sure as hell didn't wanna draw it so i wrote it as an easier media! god this is so much easier compared to drawing idk why i dont do this more often (because youre lazy silly!) anyways swapinverse silly i love swapinverse. i've only thrown up like never so i dont know if this works. also never had a panic attack (i think) and AGAIN i dont know if this is accurate but whatever i dont write to be good i write for expressing my ideas. like everything i do

[todayisafridaynight]

THERE IS ONE MORE DIFFERENCE... the red inner lining on his coat... (Jo is here too I guess)

YEAEYAHEA I NOTICED THE INNER LINING DIFFERENCE !!!! SO swaggy...... really makes things POP

[autistickfigure]

stop getting haunted. Grrr

[ghostedbunnie]

nightmare in the daylight

knight!ghost x fem!reader

based on my prompt that you can find here.

warnings: non-con/dub-con, size kink, spanking, oral (f.receiving), fingering (f.receiving), thigh riding, biting, creampie, breeding kink

a/n: i feel so rusty so please be gentle i rewrote this way too many times, it was a lot longer and had more plot but i might just end up writing pt.2 if there is interest, I added a tag list for those who wanted to see this! 🫶

Ghost hadn't anticipated encountering a robbery on the forest trail while en route to collect his king's future wife. It was unexpected but not unwelcome; he was yearning for a skirmish, for blood and broken bones. The recent tranquility had left him restless. These bandits wouldn't pose much of a challenge, but they would at least satisfy his craving.

The skies began to pour as soon as he dismounted from his horse, startling the highwaymen. They were engaged in a one-sided fight with a few knights who had undoubtedly been sent to protect the carriage on its way to his kingdom. Before any of them could react to his arrival, heads started rolling. Chaos erupted once more, with screams of terror cutting through the forest and startling the remaining fauna.

After the final enemy fell to a sword through his abdomen, Ghost approached the carriage with slow, deliberate steps. As he opened the door, he was taken by surprise as a curtain was thrown into his face and a shard of glass was aimed for his neck by a scrawny, wild-looking maid. Despite your trembling, there was a fierce determination in your eyes, a vow that you would not give up without a struggle. Beneath his face plate, the corner of his mouth curled up, and with a wry snort, he deflected the shard from your bleeding hand. Seizing you by the back of your neck like a feisty kitten showing its claws, he pulled you out of the carriage and dropped you onto the chilly, muddy ground. As he turned back to the carriage to retrieve the princess, he realized she was no warrior; she had fainted at the sight of his imposing figure silhouetted against the moonlight.

As he carries your mistress to his horse, you launch at his back, kicking and screaming, trying to make him let her go. He unceremoniously deposits her on the horse like a sack of potatoes. Finally, he turns back to catch your hands, which have been beating at his back, with one of his much bigger hands. Your eyes go wide with terror as the reality of your position with this beast sinks in. He can't help but relish in the look of you now, wet hair sticking to your face, wild eyes, and scratches on your cheek from the broken glass. You look like a tasty meal for his beastly appetite and he's been starving for far too long. You are unaware of it but attracting his attention will be the worst mistake of your life. As he draws you closer with your bound wrists, he whispers into your ear so that you can hear him over the pouring rain, “Yer brave but stupid, girl.” After that, he hits the back of your neck and everything goes black.

The next thing you know, you are standing in front of the king who explains the entire situation. However, somehow that doesn't help the sinking feeling in your stomach, especially when the king mentions a reward for the behemoth of a man towering over you. He is still covered in blood, and daylight doesn't make him any less terrifying. He stalks around like a nightmare in black leathers that hug his form tight and emphasize his width. As if sensing your thoughts, he takes a step closer, taking up more of your space, and before you can move away, you catch the last words uttered by the king: “You brought me, my bride, Ghost, it's only fair you get a reward. Take your pick - anything you wish for will be yours.”

A weighty, gloved paw settles on the nape of your neck, causing you to startle. "I'll take 'er." Your mistress immediately starts to protest but despite her objections, the king simply nods and smiles, disregarding you entirely. You have no option but to allow the beast, that he called Ghost, to guide you away with a firm hand on your nape.

After navigating through several twists and turns, you find yourself in an unremarkable room. It contains only the absolute necessities—a bed and very little else. The one thing that draws your attention in the room is the sizeable tub that is still emitting steam, indicating it was just filled a few minutes ago.

Silently, Ghost pushes you towards the tub, and you promptly begin to retreat away from it. You refuse to bathe in his presence. Even though you are just a servant, you are still a virtuous lady.

“Either you go voluntarily or I'll throw you in kickin' and screamin'.” He growls and then says, "I'll relish it either way." You can sense the predatory undertone in his voice. You're fighting a losing battle, as going willingly gives him complete control, yet resisting might provoke an even more... primal response.

You break free from his hold, realizing that he let you go willingly. 

"Can you... turn around?" he scoffs, moving to a chair that creaks under his weight. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he gestures for you to proceed. Though you want to scream or lash out, you hold back, sensing that he's waiting for you to lose control. Instead, you turn around and slowly peel off your muddied and torn dress. As you reach the chemise underneath, you sneak a peek and notice he has removed his helmet and face plate, revealing short dirty blond hair, black coal marks around his eyes, and prominent scars cutting through his lips and brow. Despite his broken nose, he remains strangely alluring, which frightens you. Hastily, you turn back, slide the chemise down, and attempt to hide under the steaming water.

"Good girl," he growls, satisfied with your obedience. Just as the relief that maybe this is all he wanted starts to sink into your bones, it's replaced with dread when you notice he starts shedding his clothes too. He loosens up his dark, blood-stained leathers with ease and deftness you wouldn't expect from a man his size.

"What are you doing?" Panic is evident in your question, but it doesn't seem to bother him at all.

"Can't bathe with my clothes on," he answers matter-of-factly. Once again, a wave of indignation courses through you, but it's quickly overshadowed by a pang of heat that forces you to rub your thighs together underwater. Your eyes can't help but stay glued to him, just as he did to you when you were taking your dress off. He is now down to his breeches, and when he pulls them down his thick thighs, you audibly gasp when you notice he is not wearing anything underneath. This earns you an amused chuckle, especially when he catches you looking again through your fingers.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, but before your thoughts can drift to what lies between his powerful thighs, he steps into the tub with you. Water spills over the edges, though he doesn't seem to mind. He pulls you close, turning you so your back presses against him, your body nestled between his legs, leaning on his firm chest. The light tickle of his hair brushes against your skin, and his strong arm rests across your stomach, fingers splayed making you feel even smaller. The contact makes you squirm, but as you try to pull away, you only stir the hardening length behind you, making you flush with heat.

“Relax,” he grunts into your ear, more command than a suggestion.

“How can I possibly –ah.” Your reply gets cut off by a moan as his other hand falls from the edge of the tub and wanders between your legs. Your attempts at closing your legs seem futile even with one hand he is strong enough to force his way in and drag his fingers through your folds nearing the opening. Your spine arches instinctively and he answers with a nip to your neck and jaw, while forcing a finger up to the first knuckle in. 

“Gotta loosen you up a bit, pet.” You have no choice but to surrender to his touch as he sinks his finger in and curls it, drawing a moan out of you before you clap a hand over your mouth to keep the sounds in. But all that decorum is forgotten when he adds a second one and scissors them before slowly prodding you with the third making you see stars. The tension building in your body suddenly snaps, sending you reeling, legs going numb and your fingers digging into his arm still wrapped around your stomach. 

With your mind hazy from your first-ever orgasm, you don't even register that he pulls you out of the bath, drying you, and carrying you to the bed in the center of the spacious room. Your body already half asleep.

His gravelly voice pulls you out of your post-orgasmic haze. “Naive, little thing.” Suddenly he is trailing hungry, open-mouthed, and nippy kisses down the length of your body. Marking your neck and collarbones with angry red marks, biting down harder than necessary on the underside of your breast leaving behind imprints of his teeth, and making you hiss when the pain mixes with the pleasure, he licks a trail down your stomach and in a moment of clear-headedness you try to fist his hair and tug him up and away from your center but his hair is cut too short for any leverage. When you lock eyes with him, between your legs forcing them open with hunger and lust written all over his face you try to get away just for him to deliver a loud smack to your outer thigh before dragging you closer and licking a stripe through your folds with a loud guttural groan that you feel more than you hear it.

His thumb circles your clit while he alternates kissing, sucking, and fucking you with his tongue. When your squirming in an attempt to get away turns into grinding your hips against his face, his other hand rests on your stomach adding slight pressure and making you cry out which only spurs him on. The sounds that reverberated through his chest were nothing short of animalistic and when your second orgasm shot through your core, you fell limp against the sheets with a moan that would make you blush if at least half of your brain was still functioning properly. A new wave of panic sets in when you realize that he isn't stopping. On the contrary, he probes you with his fingers in addition to his tongue. You can feel the coil in your lower belly tightening again, heating up with his ministrations.

You plead with him, saying you can't take anymore just for him to disregard it with a growl, “You've got plenty more in ya.” 

You've lost count of how many times you came when he manhandled you around onto your hands and knees propping your hips up with a pillow. You turn to look at him with heavy-lidded eyes and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him standing behind you with his massive hand tugging at his thick, angry-looking, and leaking cock with his eyes glued to your core, still pulsing and wet from all your previous orgasms. Without warning he grabs your hips, aligns the blunt head of his cock with your entrance, and pushes in. Your fingers dig into the sheets from the sheer stretch as you mewl and whimper when he drags himself all the way to slam back in. Everything is too much and not enough at the same time, with every thrust his fingers dig into your hips and you are sure there will be fingerprints left with how hard he is gripping you and the idea makes you wetter. Prompted by the delicious drag of his cock your walls keep tightening around him, as he pushes you closer and closer to your release. One of his muscular arms circles your waist, his chest flush to your back, as his other arm comes to rest next to your head with one of his legs still firmly planted on the floor and the other resting next to you on the bed for better purchase. This new angle combined with the gravelly grunts so close to your ear become your undoing and you hurtle full-force into another mind-numbing orgasm with Ghost following close behind.

“Come f'r me, pet.” Again, not a suggestion but a command and who are you to refuse him? So you do as he says, pussy fluttering from the aftershocks as he fucks you through it, thumb circling your clit before he fills you up, not allowing you to move an inch, keeping your hips propped up and when he pulls out which drags another set of whimpers from you he meticulously pushes his spend back with thick, calloused fingers. “Gotta make sure it takes.” 

If your consciousness weren't slipping away, you'd likely be alarmed, but instead, your eyes begin to close again, and this time, sleep claims you.

You wake to a heavy weight pressing down on your back, and it takes a moment for your mind to catch up with the events of yesterday. When it does, your entire body flushes and you attempt to move out of bed, only to find it futile. You're pinned beneath strong arms marked with scars—some from arrows, large and small, and others older, circular, and still appearing raw.

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted as a thick, muscular thigh presses deeper between your legs, forcing them apart. Without much thought, you begin to grind against it, a primal urge stirring within you. Despite the lingering soreness from yesterday, a fresh wave of need starts to build, and any trace of resistance fades in the face of overwhelming pleasure. It feels shameful, but you can't stop the tentative movements, slowly finding a rhythm—until the sudden flex of his thigh makes you gasp, your eyes rolling back.

“So needy,” he growls close to your ear but there's no trace of anger in his voice, if anything he sounds pleased. “Come on, ride it harder.” He punctuates the sentence with yet another flex of his thigh and a nip to your neck, making you shudder but follow through with his command. As you grind back against his thigh you take a note of his cock stirring, resting heavy and hard between your bare ass. You push against it absentmindedly and find yourself pinned under him, your legs still held apart with his thigh that's now embarrassingly slick with your arousal. The visual of it makes you turn your head away, eyes closed and whimpering. Ghost doesn't like that. His massive paw of a hand grabs at your cheeks, your lips puckering involuntarily while he grunts at you to keep those eyes open for him. As he licks into your mouth, it suddenly dawns on you—this is your first kiss. You had already let this beast inside you before even sharing a kiss, and everything felt so out of order, that it made you want to scream and cry. Instead, you settle on throwing your hands around him and clawing at his back as he aligns himself with your needy, sore pussy and thrusts to the hilt without so much as a warning.

Even after yesterday, the burn of the stretch to accommodate his length makes fresh tears spring up into your eyes and roll down the apples of your cheeks. You swear you see his scarred lips twitch up into a savage smile at the sight of them before he licks them clean off your cheeks with a satisfied groan. In retaliation you dig your nails deeper into his sturdy back, hoping to break the skin and leave a mark that only ends up urging him to fuck you harder, faster. The sounds reverberating in the room drive you crazy; over them, you don't even notice a soft knock at the door but whoever it was scurries away registering the sound of the moans he wrings out of you with one particularly hard thrust that pushes so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Effortlessly he manhandles your legs on his shoulders to hit a different angle. As you struggle with the overwhelming feeling of fullness he leaves a deceptively soft kiss on your ankle before he folds you in half again and wrestles another mind-shattering orgasm out of you and succumbing to one himself, painting your insides with his spent. Pulling out, he doesn't bother moving, he simply rests his head on your chest between your breasts, squeezing the air out of your lungs with the sheer size of him. “Rest now, pet. Plenty of time for more o' that later.”

At that moment, you know there is no turning back; you've been taken, branded from the inside out. You wonder if this is truly so horrible, perhaps this nightmare of a man will drive away all the other nightmares plaguing your mind.

Or perhaps he is even more dreadful than your imagination could have ever conjured.

taglist: @a66-1 , @ghostlythots , @rttxcmt , @september-22-1998 , @fluffysmiko , @gyusbrownie , @bumblebeesfromvenus , @magicalforestcat , @nommingonfood , @tami-doodles , @fateisnotafactor , @m-a-l-a-c-z-a-r-n-a , @nicolebarnes , @msdevil333 , @lilpothoscuttings , @tealeaftallulah , @not-reptilian , @moonfloweronmars , @aliceinwonderland-5678 , @marshmelloe , @i-love-you-just-the-same, @lazyperfectioniste , @tragedyinwaves , @thisisforthebest97 , @talkingcorn , @hxnneydew , @resplendantrosewood , @telvannitea , @the-casual-act , @hello-lemons, @kiwicopia , @just-a-sewer-goblin

[tetsvya]

clueless, kuroo tetsuro

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  kuroo tetsuro has a thing for girls with long hair. so what if you're a girl with long hair? that doesn’t mean anything!

➼ pairing! kuroo tetsuro x fem!manager!reader

➼ warnings! none, just fluff and humor. maybe ooc because i haven't written in years??? unfortunately, because this is based on the scene of kuroo and yaku arguing about their preference, this is really for my long haired girlies 😣 i apologize to the short haired readers

➼ word count! about 1.4k

➼ author’s note! "haikyuu renassiance!" we all cheer in unison. anywho, this is my first time posting in two years. please be nice to me 🫡

"So, you prefer girls with short hair then, Yaku?" Kai asks, shedding off the white button-up of his school uniform and revealing his black practice t-shirt. The three third-year Nekoma players had found themselves in an empty classroom, deciding to use it as a makeshift changing room. Luckily for them, they had all worn their clean practice clothes under their school uniforms. Doing so allowed them to save time and cut back the number of minutes they were already going to be late to practice, thanks to Yaku getting distracted by a group of girls, which Kai noted all had short hair. Hence, his question.

Yaku paused his work of ridding himself of his tie to send Kai a proud grin, pointing towards him with both hands, “Yesss!

"And you, Kuroo?" Kai turns to him, now curious to know his captain's answer as well.

"Long." Kuroo's answer is firm, leaving no room for debate. Still, he glances at Yaku, as if daring him to try.

Yaku only snorts, shaking his head in amusement as he too turns to look at his captain, "Like that wasn't obvious."

"Ehh," Kuroo's eyes narrow, head craning down to peer at the libero, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Yaku starts, taking a step closer as he peers right back up at Kuroo, "Everyone knows you have a crush on our manager, who just so happens to have the longest hair I've ever seen!"

"Ehh?" Kuroo repeats, louder this time as he cranes his head down even more, "Who says I have a crush—"

"Hey!" The door to the classroom slides open with a shocking force, startling the boys and drawing the attention of all three of them to it. Kuroo and Yaku both grow rigid as they find you standing in its opening. Quiet pants slip past your lips, and you take a moment to catch your breath as you stare at the three of them before you begin speaking, "There you guys are! I've been looking for the three of you everywhere."

"Hello," Kai greets kindly, the only one not left in a stupor at your sudden appearance, smiling as you make your way into the classroom. "We apologize, we're running a bit late."

"Yeah," You huff, coming to a stop a few steps away from them as you cross your arms, "It was your guys' turn to set up the nets. So when you guys didn't show up in time to do so and none of you answered your phones, Coach sent me to find you guys. Didn't know I'd be going on a wild goose chase."

Your words leave you in a huff before your eyes land on Kuroo, raising an eyebrow at the captain. His shoulders tense even more at the sudden eye contact and he's quick to snap his head in the other direction. Kuroo suddenly feels warm, realizing how you could have easily heard the conversation transpiring between the three of them. Stupid Yaku, Kuroo curses the libero in his head, doesn't even know what he's talking about.

"Sorry, Y/N." And of course it’s Yaku who disrupts his thoughts, pulling Kuroo's eyes to him just as he sends you an innocent smile, "We got carried away, talking."

There's a teasing tone to Yaku's voice, and Kuroo knows it's directed at him. Why is he friends with him again?

"I don't even want to know," You speak, and Kuroo can envision you shaking your head at the three of them, "Just get dressed and get to the gym as quick as possible, please."

All three boys give some noise of recognition in response to your words, and Kuroo takes the chance to glance at you then. He's quick to regret it. Your hand rises just as he locks eyes with you, reaching up to tuck some of the more unruly pieces of your hair (which most likely came undone due to your seemingly frantic search of the three third years) behind your ear and out of your face. Kuroo's eyes follow the movement of your hand, trailing downwards and taking in the long strands of hair that fall well past your shoulders. Once again all too aware of the conversation he was just having with his teammates, the tips of his ears burn as he pulls his gaze away from you once more. He shakes his head, trying to get Yaku's words out of his mind. Just because he liked girls with long hair, and just because you so happened to be a girl with long hair, did not mean he liked you.

Right?

A snort of laughter suddenly leaves Yaku, having caught the interaction, and Kuroo turns to him with a heated glare. You don't miss the exchange between them either.

"Are you two having one of your petty arguments again?" You accuse, eyes glancing between Kuroo and Yaku who are suddenly staring back at you like two deers caught in headlights. "Seriously, you've been fighting like this since first year. What topic could you guys possibly still be discussing?"

Yaku's smirk returns as he glances at his captain with an all too knowing look before he turns back to you, "Well, if you really want to kn—"

"Nope!" Kuroo is quick to interject, speaking for the first time since you entered and drawing your attention away from Yaku and back to the captain himself. Your eyes widen as he begins to take long strides in your direction. "No arguing here!"

Your lips part, confusion taking over your features at the odd behavior your captain is displaying. You don't get the chance to say anything, however, as Kuroo makes a show of glancing at the clock on the wall before turning back to you with a dramatic gasp, "Oh, would you look at the time! We should really be heading to practice."

"You still have your school shirt on, Kuroo.” You point out when he stops in front of you, pointedly glancing down at Kuroo's attire, which consisted of his practice shorts and white button-up, with his red school tie hung loosely around his neck.

"I'll just change it once we're in the gym," Kuroo responds, waving away your interjections before he drops his hands onto your shoulders and forces you to turn around and back toward the door. You attempt to dig your heels down when he begins to push you in the direction of the door, but you're truly no match for his strength. Stupid volleyball training.

"Kuroo," You voice your protests, attempting to swat at his hands in order to get him to release you. Once again, your attempts remain futile, "Let go of me!"

"No can do! As captain and manager, it's our job to be on time to every practice. What would our team do without us?" Kuroo shakes his head, clicking his tongue as if he's scolding you. He turns back to Kai and Yaku, flashing them a warning smile, daring them to say another word. Yaku merely watches on with an unamused look, while Kai holds a placid smile. There's extra sweetness in his voice as he practically chirps out, "Bring my stuff to the club room, will you?"

"I was on time!" You retort, not giving Kai nor Yaku a chance to respond to their exasperating captain as you send them a pointed look, all the while succumbing to your fate and allowing Kuroo to push you out of the classroom. After all, he did have a point. It probably wouldn't be long before Lev managed to push somebody's buttons (most likely Yamamoto’s) one too many times and ended up in hot water. "The only reason I'm not there right now is because I came looking for you guys!"

"Ah, now is not the time to deal blame, Y/N. Our juniors are waiting on us." Kuroo argues back, shaking his head as he removes one hand from your shoulder to slide the door shut behind the two of you. Still, Yaku and Kai face the door as the sound of your guys' bickering persists. It grows quieter and quieter with each passing moment, and it isn’t until they can no longer hear your guys' voices does Yaku glance away with a shake of his head.

"He's clueless." Yaku deadpans, glancing back down at his tie as he continues to work on untying it.

Kai nods, neatly folding his button-up before placing it in his bag. "Completely."

[deebris]

From annoying to beloved

Homelander x fem!Reader

Synopsis: The new member of the Seven annoys Captain Patria with their habit of doodling in the corners all the time, but he didn't expect to end up liking it.

During the fourth season, it can be read as both romantic and platonic.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of murder, the reader has the power to control plasma, fluffy.

The reader is also kind of anxious.

Word count: 2.9k

"You gotta be fucking kidding with me." Homelander interrupted abruptly upon hearing snores in the room. "Is Noir sleeping?"

"Mmhmm," Firecracker murmured in agreement, but the masked superhero jolted awake when The Deep kicked his chair.

"Oh, shit! Sorry, guys." Black Noir straightened up, while the Captain shook his head in disbelief, unable to fathom what he had just witnessed.

"Ah, what the fuck." The blonde furrowed his brows, eyes darting around the room quickly, then fixing on a specific point when something else caught his attention. He had noticed you earlier with a notebook and pencil, but now you're not writing but drawing. The irritating sound of the graphite scraping against the paper had been bothering him for some time, but he had tried to ignore it, assuming as a newcomer you were taking notes.

He wouldn't lie. Though he found taking notes utterly stupid, he liked to think someone was that focused on what he said. Not that he needed it, just opening his lips and everyone would be watching him. But as if that weren't enough, he finally realized you were dressed in regular civilian clothes.

"Radiance, where's your suit?" He asked slowly, but angrily. "Can't anyone do anything right around here?"

You finally tore your attention from the paper, meeting Homelander gaze directly. It's not that you weren't paying attention—in fact, you were, maybe more than anyone else there. It was easier to absorb things while doodling, a way to calm your nerves. Well, that or rubbing your sweaty fingers together until they hurt.

No one ever understood. Even back in school, your parents used to receive complaints about you drawing during class, no matter how high your grades were or the fact that you were the top student.

This was your first meeting with the Seven, and the last thing you wanted was to give the impression of being careless or not caring about being there. It could be said that one of the best days of your life was yesterday when Vought sent you a notice, letting you know that the greatest superhero of all had personally chosen you to join the team. After so many "retarded" - in his words - he had been forced to accept into the Seven, Homelander saw in you, above all, the opportunity to make up for Firecracker's ridiculous weakness.

When Ashley began talking about your powers, he had no doubt the last spot was yours. It was simply brilliant. Who the hell would have imagined someone would have powers to control a state of matter? You could maneuver fire, generate electrical discharges, disrupt magnetic fields, and damn it, you could split atoms as if slicing butter.

Vought's scientists said they didn't know if it was possible, but you could destroy the damn out of a star one day. Homelander wasn't a science guy, but in one of his moments of boredom, he got curious and did some research. He didn't even know that plasma crap was all that, he thought it was a cell thing or whatever.

He always thought someone with a power as peculiar as yours, and at your age, would be arrogant or just plain dumb. But you were actually the complete opposite. You didn't speak unnecessarily, and while you seemed very aware of your own actions, you had no clue how powerful you were, or perhaps ignored that fact. The blonde thought you were an idiot for it, but he appreciated the inferiority you submitted to, especially in relation to himself.

"I don't have one, sir," you replied to his question, feeling small with everyone looking.

"What the hell?" He continued, focusing on you with incredulous voice, he couldn't believe it. How did someone end up here without even having a superhero suit?

The truth was, you had never been part of any team before, nor had you received any sponsorship during your life, or even attended Godolkin University. The only thing you had were your powers, which were indeed impressive. You never chased after any position, nor were you ever obsessed with being a famous superheroine, but lately you thought it would be a good adventure to radicalize your life. That's when you applied to join the Seven.

"How do you have a name and not have a fucking suit?" He asked, boiling with anger, fists clenching tightly behind his back.

"They gave me a name when I filled out the application," you answered honestly. That day, after they chose to call you Radiance, a random and easily commercial name, you couldn't complain much and didn't want to bother, so you left it at that.

"You'll be introduced as an official member of the Seven tomorrow, how do you not have a suit?" He took his hands off his back, moving them as he spoke to express his confusion, and for a few moments you followed it movement like a child who can't keep their attention on anything for long. "Who's handling your marketing?"

You couldn't answer, so you stayed silent and no one else dared to say a word either. You had no idea who was handling your marketing, not knowing you should even have that. You glanced quickly around the table, perhaps seeking some kind of help for the situation, but everyone looked down when they realized you were staring at them. They were enjoying themselves, and that made you exhale through your nose in embarrassment.

"You know what? Fuck it, doesn't matter." Homelander brought his fingers to his furrowed forehead, letting out a loud sigh as he calmed down. "Just... don't show up like this in public until someone gives you a suit."

"Yes, sir," you replied tensely, relieved that he had resolved the matter.

Sister Sage widened her eyes in relief when she finally saw the superhero sitting beside her. She opened her mouth to begin speaking, as she had intended from the beginning, but when some sound was about to come out of her mouth, Homelander spoke to you again, this time pointing an accusatory finger at you:

"And stop drawing, damn it," he ordered, causing you to slowly drop the pencil on the table, as if caught doing something wrong with the weapon of the crime in hand. You stared at your lap throughout the entire meeting, embarrassed for messing everything up on your first day.

When the meeting ended, you followed most people out of the room, but stopped nearby in one of the hallways. You slid down the wall, crouching in a hidden corner, and lightly tapped the sketchbook against your forehead in annoyance.

"Stupid," you murmured softly to yourself. It was so ridiculous, yet it embarrassed you so much. Maybe this first day wasn't so bad after all. You would have plenty of time to prove your worth to everyone, no need to dwell on this situation. Even though you had been corrected in front of some of the most iconic supers by Homelander himself, this situation could be overcome. It was thinking about it that kept you from letting the burning tears fall.

"I can hear you whining," Homelander voice made you jump to your feet, startled to be caught once again doing something you shouldn't. He didn't seem happy, and his expression was so intimidating that you felt like Mariah Carey performing for a crowd of Eminem fans.

He approached you in slow steps and you held the sketchtebook protectively to your chest, as if that could protect you from something. He glanced down to briefly see the object in your hands and looked at you with disgust.

"If you don't straighten up, I'll kick you out. Got it?" Everything about him exuded threat. Maybe if he weren't so imposing and powerful, that sentence would have sounded a bit like the janitor from your old school scolding you for spending too much time in the bathroom during class.

You were paralyzed standing there and all you could do was a nod. But your gesture made him more aggressive.

"Answer with your mouth. Are you mute or something?" And there he was, hands behind his back again. He seemed to enjoy that pose.

"I won't mess up, sir," you said, swallowing your saliva.

"And get rid of that. Or burn it, do whatever, just get rid of it. And I better not see you with that again," he said referring to your notebook, walking away faster than before. "These kids..." you heard him mutter distantly.

After that happened, you didn't destroy the sketchtebook, but you were afraid of being caught and kept it safely tucked away in the back of a drawer in your room. What the eyes don't see, the heart doesn't feel, right? You mentally made a promise to yourself not to use it anywhere else but here, to avoid causing more trouble.

It's been a week since you've been with the Seven, and several strange things have happened. You quickly realized that Homelander wasn't the pristine and merciful hero everyone believed him to be. But the truth was that deep down you already expected that. Everything about heroes always seemed too perfect and pure, there had to be a catch. Despite everything, you still remained yourself, never intentionally hurting anyone or getting involved in murders and conspiracies.

You were comfortable helping out with some minor crimes that Vought sent you to solve, but by now you suspected that sooner or later Homelander would ask you to do some of his atrocities. It was still hard to think about how to feel about it, but you weren't naive, you were already mentally preparing to submit to it or else be killed.

During that time, as you adjusted and interacted with the team, it didn't go unnoticed by Homelander that you were drawing on your own hand, or on napkins and on random sheets you found lying around, even though you hadn't shown up with your sketchtebook again. This was starting to wear on his last nerve, but he tried to ignore it. As long stayed as you were, without asking too many questions and obedient, he made an effort to continue overlooking your makeshift drawings.

"Meeting's over," the blond suddenly declared, interrupting another of the Seven's weekly gatherings while cutting off The Deep's rambling about his ideas.

"But I haven't even talked about the flying shark yet," he tried to defend himself.

"Shut up," Homelander's voice rang out sternly in the room, issuing a warning that the man promptly obeyed.

"Right. Meeting's over." Ashley nervously moved to gather the portfolios on the new soda advertisement she had come to present, but as soon as she touched the first folder, specifically the A-Train one, the superhero exploded in rage:

"Ashley! Get out!" She immediately dropped the folder in place and hurried out in her heels, unable to run in them. "All of you! Get out of here."

Everyone got up from their chairs, even you, and filed out through the front door, leaving the folders on the table. Sister Sage hesitated, thinking she might be an exception, but when his scowl deepened, she understood she should leave too.

With the room empty, Captain Patria took a few minutes to admire the view from the tower. He enjoyed staring at it sometimes, even when bored.

"Bunch of idiots," he muttered to himself, shaking his head in denial, indignant. If he had to spend one more minute with these morons, he would have a heart attack, even though that was technically impossible for him.

He threw his cape back as he turned to leave, looking down and not focusing on anything in particular. But his eyes caught something different from the other folders. It was obviously yours, with a huge drawing covering the text and images printed on it.

That was the first time he actually saw something you had scribbled. And damn, it was perfect. It was a drawing of everyone in the room, with him in the center looking angry. Just as he was. His ego flared up as he noticed that his figure was more detailed than the others'. You must have started drawing him first, hence had more time to detail him. The idea of you making him the main focus of this particular drawing made his pupils dilate. He used his super hearing to check if anyone else was around and secretly took that sheet for himself.

The next time he saw you drawing in the Seven's room, he couldn't help but wonder if you were drawing him again. As soon as he noticed you sneakily reaching for a pen that belonged to Ashley, he looked in your direction. The noise that used to annoy him now sparked curiosity. And after staring at you for so long, it didn't take long for you to look back at him too. The blond thought you would be embarrassed, like most people, but you just grinned as if you were used to being caught looking. And indeed, you were.

You began drawing Homelander more frequently when you realized he never caught you watching him. It was easier and avoided awkward situations with other people. After two whole weeks of drawing him continuously while taking advantage of this freedom, you felt capable of drawing his face without even needing to see a photo, having memorized most of his distinctive features.

Well, it seems he's finally noticed you.

Sometimes, when alone in your room, you took out your sketchbook and started practicing the memory of his facial features you had developed. Just like every other time, you became absorbed in the drawing, focusing only on the voices around you to understand what was being said. This was also a way to keep yourself engaged during conversations, so you wouldn't get restless from being still while being a mere spectator of everything. After all, you never participated much or gave opinions; Deep already did enough for two.

The meeting had already ended, but you stayed in your chair, even as everyone else left, to finish just a part of the hair. You thought no one would mind, and then you would leave as usual, but a voice caught you by surprise:

"Can I take a look?" Homelander asked, for the first time, using a gentle voice beside you. His expression was enigmatic, somewhat relaxed, and shy at the same time.

You turned the stack of post-it notes, also taken from Ashley, for him to see what you had drawn, fearing what he would say. You weren't ashamed of drawing people, much less of them catching you doing it. You feared because he found your habit annoying.

He observed the drawing, seeing his posture from the side, upright and imposing. He wondered if you drew him exactly as you saw him, or if it was just another caricature of reality, like those Photoshopped pictures spread around. He looked much better than he imagined, though he had that superiority complex that made him see himself as a god.

For a moment, he was offended to see his image stamped on such despicable things as scraps of paper and these damn post-it notes. Your fingerprints were also visible stains, and the paper was slightly wrinkled from his sweat. He had noticed that sometimes you drew calmly, as if you had all the time in the world, and other times it was like drawing on a boat in a storm. Today seemed to be the latter situation.

"Do you like drawing me?" He glanced at you.

"I do," you shrugged. That was the simplest and most truthful answer you could give. "Sorry, I won't do it anymore," you said, thinking he was bothered by it.

"Why?" He ignored your apology.

"You're drawable... I guess," you stared at the table, not understanding the flow of the conversation.

"And what the fuck does that mean?" He asked in a louder voice, turning to face you, obviously confused. "Is this some artistic shit?"

"It's just that you're easy to draw because you have unusual characteristics. It's a good thing," was your answer, and it inflated his chest with narcissistic pride. Unusual, that's what you said, but to him, it was like being called extraordinary.

"Next time you draw me, try using a sketchbook," he said sternly, pretending to reject your work, but deep down, he just didn't want to show that he really liked it. That statement was his way of encouraging you to continue, but at the same time, it was so ironic, considering he got mad at you just when you were drawing him in the sketchtebook that day.

"But you asked me to get rid of mine," you said simply, your voice dwindling with each word of the sentence, not wanting him to find out that you had never thrown it away.

"I'll get you a new one," he said dismissively, taking the entire stack of post-it notes with him, including the drawing, as if you wouldn't notice.