#you know what? i am crying because of his freckles

[sweet1delusi0ns]

Class 1A boys random headcanons ──☆*:・ﾟ

MHA

Summary: random thing they do or say as your boyfriend*.•

Characters: Izuku, katsuki, Shoto, Tenya, Eijirou, Denki, Sero, Tokoyami, Aoyama, Ojiro, Sato, Shoji, Koji!

IZUKU~

He tries making you food just to be nice, but he doesn’t really know how so he just brings you something easy like instant noodles and say “it’s the thought that counts!”

He use to be insecure of his freckles and the only reason he isn’t now is because you kiss them all the time!

he draws you all the time, he hangs them all up in his room so when you hang out with him you tease him about being so obsessed with you which he blushes too

He lets you put his fluffy hair in pigtails sometimes!

He does a stupid dance everytime he beats you in something, a game, a training exercise or something like that. You say it’s cute which makes him flustered~

KATSUKI~

Claims he doesn’t cry at all but in reality he cries in front of you all the time, and ONLY you

He has some hearing loss from his quirk so sometimes he doesn’t hear you walking up to him so you have to kiss him to get his attention

He kisses the back of your hand, not to be a ‘gentleman’ or anything he is just too timid to kiss your face sometimes

His face is always so stern but when you two are alone his face soften SO MUCH. It relaxes into a small smile when he is alone with you

He lights candles for you with tiny explosions, sometimes it doesn’t work and he gets embarrassed for failing so he will just melt it instead! (You don’t really care but if you did he would get you a new one)

SHOTO~

he also lights candles for you, and it actually works. So he gets a bunch of candles for you just so he can light them all for you. He threw away your lighter so you have to ask him

He heats up his hands ever so slightly when he touches you to warm you up. You call him your heating pad LOL. He also gives you massages after training with warm hands as to not hurt you

He normally doesn’t want to even mention his scar but with you he literally asks to kiss it when he feels down about it~ which you always do!

He lets you paint his nails, he also does not care what colors. He just likes spending the time it takes to paint them with you, he normally gossips with you while you paint them~

TENYA~

whenever he is talking to you he sometimes gets so comfortable to the point he will speak incredibly fast! You have to put your hands on his cheeks and tell him to slow down

He reads to you, even if you say no he does it anyways. He says it’s for learning purposes but in reality he just wants to spend time with you

He tries showing off his intelligence with you. “Give me any equation and I am confident I will know how to solve it!”

He sometimes forgets he wears glasses, he falls asleep with them on sometimes so you have to take them off for him. Sometimes he puts his head in your neck but his glasses get in the way which makes him whine and tear them off so he could actually cuddle into you~

He’s so proud of you sometimes he brags about you at random times. “Have you seen y/n? Yeah we are DATING!”

EIJIROU~

He wants to give you love bites sometimes but he knows his teeth are sharp so he’s scared too

His quirk sometimes makes his hands and arms dry from overuse so he asks you what to do about it and you told him to just try moisturizer. he made you put it on him because he likes your warm touch! (Not in a weird way!?)

He lets you draw on him, it doesn’t matter if your bad at drawing or not he likes being your ‘canvas’ he says. As long as you let him draw on you too. It’s normally just dumb faces like ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ or something like that LOL

He is SO WHINY, like extremely whiny! Even in front of his friends, if he wants something from you he’s gunna whine till he gets it. “Y/NNNNNNNNNNN GIVE ME A KITHHHHH” “dude lower your voice people are gunna thing your weird *kiss*”

Whenever he is yapping to you about god knows what he sometimes stutters unintentionally which makes him stop talking for like 5 minutes due to embarrassment. “So t..th.Then…..” “Uhm you ok?” “…” “Your not gunna talk anymore huh?” “*Shakes head*”

DENKI~

he pulls the dumbest faces and then asks you if you still think he’s cute- like “hey y/n am I still cute?(o_O)” “no you look dumb stop it” “fine…”

He shocks you but not on purpose, in general he has so much static electricity coming off of him that he can’t control so sometimes if you reach to play with his hair you’ll get shocked. He apologizes over and over and ‘kisses it better’

He lets you put make up on him, you don’t even have to wear make up yourself and he’s down. You make him look like a princess and he loves it- “I’m beautiful!!!”

He’s very needy which is obvious. He gets so needy for attention that sometimes he will just follow you around school waiting for you to atleast hug him~

SERO~

He loves arts and crafts (LOL) he likes making home made cards for you instead of buying them from a store. He also likes building things with you like bird houses n such. He’s a great tape dispenser so he’s good at it☺️

He’s really good at puzzles so if your doing something like a rubix cube or just a normal puzzle and you get stuck he always helps you!

He leaves love notes for you everywhere, in your bag, on your desk, in your locker or even in your books. He isn’t the best with words but it’s still cute that he tries

TOKOYAMI~

He gets jealous of dark shadow, he always makes you laugh. So in return he banishes dark shadows for a while so he can have alone time with you (aka to cuddle)

He drags his beak through your hair instead of playing with it with his hands, he basically preens you but refuses to admit that’s what he’s doing-

He’s insecure, it is kinda weird that he has a bird head but you don’t let that get in the way. You cover his beak with kisses hoping it’ll make him feel better

He made you a necklace out of one of his feathers, now you wear it everywhere and people either think it’s adorable or cringy

I’ve said it before he is really fluffy so whenever you cuddle you start playing with his feather. He says he doesn’t care but if you don’t he begs you to. “Can you? You know?” “What” “You always play with my feathers?” “Aww you want me to play with your feathers!?” “Yeah.”

AOYAMA~

Behind closed doors he ditches the whole self centered thing and is fixed onto you. While you guys cuddle in privet you could hear him saying “you are so very dazzling! Just as much as me~” or “you are like a shining star! So pretty…” (out of character again but IDC I headcanon him to be a sweetheart!)

Whenever he gets a stomach ache from overusing his power he MAKES you give him a tummy rub, he will force your hand above his stomach and wait for you to sooth him

He wears make up so he lets you do looks on him. If you do good enough he will wear it for the day but most of the time it doesn’t meet his standards LOL

Similar with nails, he lets you paint them whatever color you want and he will keep them on. He doesn’t care as much abt his nails then he does his face-

He loves when you play with his hair, like really loves it. Whenever you play with his hair or give him a scalp massage he just sits there like ^0^. Seriously his mouth will hang open without him realizing. You have to close his mouth manually with your finger

OJIRO~

He lets you play with his tail, you just pet it whenever you want but you have to be careful because his tail is a little ticklish. He will swat you away if it starts to tickle

He Carries your bags for you, he’s a gentleman like that! he does it just to be nice but if you insist on carrying them yourself he won’t stop you!

He sometimes jumps into your arms, as a ‘joke’ which is a lie. Sometimes he just wants to be in your arms! He also finds it hot that you are strong enough to hold him~

He likes when you guys match! Clothes or shoes n such! He thinks it’s cute and we wants everyone to know that y’all r dating!

SATO~

He finds it hot when you call him ‘big boy’ he understands that you don’t do it to shame him but it’s more to flatter him. Like you’ll be having a light breakfast and after he finished he was still hungry so you tease “oh we gotta get more food in you big boy~ wait here I’ll get more!” He blushes so hard over it

He crams his head under your shirt when cuddling, he just likes laying on your stomach ok!

He is a little insecure about his looks, and he is very honest with insecurity so he will just confront you like “y/n I don’t think I look that good today…help?” And you’ll do everything you can to help

Whenever he is injured he milks it so harddd, he will ask you to get him a blanket, or help him eat. “Y/n could you feed this to me? I’m too hurt…” “your arms are fine?” “I know”

He’s the kinda guy to peak over your shoulder while your doing something because he really wants to be apart of it but he’s to scared to ask😭

SHOJI~

The first time you saw his face he was soooo insecure it was really sad, everytime you asked he when like “I don’t think you want to see…this” or “well y/n it’s obvious it isn’t going to look good, it’s probably gunna freak you out”. When he finally did show you he was shocked when you pulled him closer claiming you wanted to “admire his beauty” closer~

Cuddling with him is the best!! He makes a little cocoon around you with his arms! Unless you want to hold him which he also loves!

He insists on holding things for you, everytime you say “I wish I had more hands” he goes “luckily I do!” And takes everything out of your hands

He gets cold easily so sometimes when y’all cuddle he gets freakishly cold and you have to bundle him up like a burrito. You cry over how cute his looks with his mask off in a burrito blanket <3

KOJI~

He talks to you on a regular basis but he almost always leans into your ear, cup it with his hands and whisper instead since he is still very shy, unless you guys are completely alone. Even for the simplest thing; “y/n…do you want water?” “Speak up babe-” “*squealing noise*”

Compliments kill him, like actually last time you called him cute he fainted

He asks you to deal with spiders in his dorm or anywhere. You capture them and release them tho because he feels bad if you just kill them

He leaves you flower petals in random places, you could be looking through your books and notice a flower petal in between two pages~

He back hugs you to cuddle, he’s to scared to be face to face and he’s scared he’s gunna hurt you somehow? You assured him he will never hurt you which makes him feel a little better

Wsg yall!!!! Anywayyyys Next post prob gunna be class 1B cuz again they need more attention 😔

Not proof readdddd!!

[astraystayyh]

the premise : u apply lipgloss on felix because ofc he suits glossy lips except it takes an emotional turn???? because felix is perfect sorry. this is fluffyyyy and the sanest reaction to this man being ur bf (and these pics. these pics....)

“lixie, stay still,” you giggle, body nestled between felix’s legs. He's leaning against the bathroom counter, hands propped on the sleek ebony marble as you apply a shimmering lip gloss to his lips.

“but don't you wanna know what changbin said to me?”

“of course i wanna know what creative pickup line he used on you today. of course i do, baby,” you smile and he rolls his eyes at the sarcasm dripping from your tone, his tongue poking against his cheek before gliding in (fake) annoyance over his lips.

“but…” he muses, tilting his head to the side, his hands finding your waist once again (they've been away for two minutes too long).

“but when your mouth moves i can't technically apply lipgloss to it.”

“maybe you're just a bad make-up artist,” he teases, before quickly planting a kiss on your temple. “kidding baby. you're the very best at everything you do.”

“you're actually incapable of being mean,” you laugh heartily, your thumb swiping across his chiseled jaw.

“i am very much capable of being mean,” he pouts, his eyes widening slightly, golden light spilling into his pupils— it refracts into an arrow delving straight into your heart.

“you can't say this in the softest voice and expect me to agree.”

“i am very much capable of being mean,” he repeats, only this time his timber is many many octaves lower. his voice reverberates straight through your stomach, a deep melody orchestrating the untamed butterflies in your stomach.

“this is the equivalent of a kitten throwing a punch to me,” you pull his face closer, and he shakes his head, mouth shut tightly as you reapply the glitter infused gloss on his lips, going delicately over his cupid's bow. his eyes are boring onto you, yet you don't shy away from his gaze. it is a kind one— like a blanket knitted with love thrown over your body.

“done,” you whisper, hands trailing up to his hair, blonde silky locks akin to threads of sunlight. you think he must be favored by the stars— how they stored the sun inside every component of his being for him to keep safe.

“you have the prettiest lips,” your voice is suddenly hoarse, thumb grazing slightly over his lips, ones shaped like a heart— akin to the one freckle he has right underneath his eye.

it wasn't enough for him to have the kindest soul, no, love needed to be etched onto his skin too.

“felix,” you rasp out his name.

he catches your tears before you sense them falling, swiping his thumbs delicately on your cheek. “angel?”

“you're an idiot.”

“am i?” he brings you to his chest swiftly, your nose buried in the orange blossoms and sea notes of his skin— your home, the one you'd recognize in blindness, in despair, in safety, in love.

“i wanted to apply this lipgloss on you because shimmer would suit your angelic lips and then we'd make out. but you just had to be so beautiful and pure that it makes me wanna cry.”

“I'm sorry,” he says and you giggle, more tears spilling from your eyes.

“see, this is what i mean. why are you apologizing. this is so silly and you're so perfect and i can't believe you love me.”

“well i do,” he leans away, kissing your forehead tenderly. the sticky lip gloss lingers on your skin. “i love you so much, angel. i will only ever love you.”

“promise me?” you ask in a feat of vulnerability almost foreign to your being.

“i promise.”

you believe him.

“thank you. please don't put this lipgloss near anyone else or it'll make them cry too.”

“i think that's just you baby,” he grins, his thumb swiping over your thigh comfortingly, then, his nose brushing against your own. “kiss?”

you close your eyes, a sigh of relief, of longing escaping your body. “please.”

to be loved by felix— maybe you're the one favored by the stars after all.

[ellieslob]

★ellie got sick

+idea: ellie gets emotional when you take care of her

ways to help palestine !!!

you knew, deep down, under all the toughness and her act of being completely independent, and solitaire, ellie yearned for touch, but not just anybody's touch, your touch.

the first week after you guys got together you were both hesitant to touch each other, to be near one another, too nervous and definitely too worried of messing up, ruining everything and ending up alone again, so for the first weeks, you guys practically were just friends that called each other “babe” and “honey”.

that was until ellie got sick, it was nothing to really worry about, nothing but a cold, “it didn't matter” as she said, but at the same time, she had spent all of her weekend inside her bed, texting you about how her tummy hurt, her head hurt, her pinky toe hurt, your girlfriend switched from being the strongest and toughest woman you ever met to such being a pretty cry baby. you two were on your nightly call, when she heard the ring bell “oh no, wait babe, god, how do i get up” you heard her covers moving as she growled and whined.

“don't worry honey, i'll get the door” she looked at her phone confused, you hung up and left her even more confused, were you high? or…

the knocking stopped an the door opened showing that it was you at her room, with a soft smile and a little basket in your hands “hi baby. okay, okay, so i brought you a soft blanket, some chocolate, and yes, the milky one, not dark. i bought soda but i bringed tea, because you need to stay hydrated” your hands pushed her back to the bed, tugging her with the little blanket, and then checking her temperature by softly pressing your foreheads “oh and i made you chicken soup, i know you don't loove vegetables, but baby you-

you stopped yourself completely, her face was now drowning in tears, her face all covered in blush and her hands were grabbing her new soft blanket with a very tight grip “ellie, w-what's wrong?”

she got up from the bed, still her movements were slow and silly, but she managed to get to you, your worried look, the little basket, the homemade tea and soup, the little and soft voice you used just to talk to her. she knew it.

she almost tackled you into a hug, starting to cry even harder, her deep voice turning into whines, her sobs were loud and strong that they moved her hole body, she was clinging onto your shirt, hiding her face in your chest, you didn't know what to do, you had yourgirlfriend weeping desperately in your arms and she didn't answer your questions or stop shivering. you caressed her cheek, trying to wipe her tears a little “ellie?”

“thank you, i… i was so exhausted, i am really, but even with all my whining and complaining, god it must have been so boring to hear me complain about everything but still you.. you”

“i love you ellie, i love your face, your little freckles, your voice, your bad jokes, your complains, i love them because i love you, way too much, i’d say, you should be scared, like seriously, you should call the police” you started attacking her with little kisses all around her face.

“stop” she laughed like a kid, making you chuckle a little, her tears finally stopped, leaving her eyes shiny and loving “and you say my jokes are bad” she holds your waist, pulling you closer to her.

“well i guess that's why we are together honey, you'll have to endure”

“i love you”

“i love you more” and as cheesy as it sounded, your voice, your words and your kisses were all that ellie needed to get better.

🥣masterlist!

🫐nat: im back😭 im so sorry for all the time that has passed, this is not my best work but i wanted to make a little something to officially come back, love yaaall so so much

[finelinevogue]

love in photos

summary - a sum up of love on tour with a few instagram posts

word count - 1k

pairing - boyfriend!harry x reader

liked by annetwist and 727,937 others

yourinstagram goodbye love on tour, you will always be famous <3🤍

view all 34,767 comments

harryfan1 THESE PHOTO YN HOW ARE YOU ALIVE

harryfan2 can’t believe harry spotted you in the crowd twice🙄

yourinstagram @/harryfan2 ik it’s almost like he loves me or something?!

harrystyles liked this comment

harryfan3 yn. respectfully. pls stop. i am now in tears.

jeffezoff Post some more!

harryfan4 i remember him wanting to hug you so bad yn omg🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

•••••••••••••••••

“Babe…” Harry laughed at you crying.

“What?” You laughed back through your tears.

Harry moved from the end of the couch he was currently sat on and further over to you. He carefully picked you up and sat you on his lap, tucking the plush blanket back over you both.

You held your phone in your hand, running your finger through the photos from Love On Tour.

The tears stemmed from reminiscing of a tour that ended only five days ago. You couldn’t help yourself though. Love On Tour had brought you some of the happiest years and memories of your life and it was just sad it was now all over.

“C’mon, love. You know I’m going to cry if you keep crying.” Harry’s facial hair tickled your cheek with how close you were sitting.

You made sure Harry could see your phone screen as you continued to scroll.

“I know, but, i’m just emotionally reflecting.”

Harry budged your finger out of the way and paused to stop on a photo. He clicked on it and it immediately made you both laugh.

It was a photo of Harry creeping you behind you and scaring you. Your face is one of pure terror and Harry looks like he’s ready to pounce.

“You were such a twat for that.” You chuckled, tapping the screen and holding to make it a live photo.

Harry could be heard yelling and then you let out an ear piercing scream. So many people turned to look at you, probably because you sounded in pain. Then you collapsed to the floor with your head in your hands.

“It was Harryween though.” Harry justified.

You shook your head and continued to scroll. A few of the photos were ones you had screenshotted off your secret Twitter account. Fans constantly snuck to take photos of you and Harry, some of which actually turned out very cute sometimes.

You clicked on one of you and Harry watching Madi Diaz as the opener for Harry, back on his US leg of the tour.

Harry was stood behind you with his arms draped over your shoulders. Your hands held onto his and you both swayed to the music playing. Harry had his baseball cap on, but it didn’t stop fans noticing him.

“That’s a sweet photo.” Harry said, kissing your cheek.

“Mhm. Thank your fans for that one.”

“I always loved watching the opening acts with you.”

“Yeah? Why?” You turned your head to face his.

Harry couldn’t choose where to look, because of how much he loved everything about you. He watched your eyes follow his as they ran between your freckles and lips to your eyes and dimples.

“You always calmed me. Calmed the nerves, before a show. Was always more at peace after spending a few moments with just you.”

You smiled, not needing to say anything more, before leaning up and kissing his soft lips. He had been waiting for you to do so and cupped your cheek gently to guide you the way he wanted to kiss you.

Your cheeks flushed at how much you enjoyed kissing him, but you had to pull away before anything got too heated. Tonight you just wanted calm.

After getting back to your photos, you and Harry decided it might be fun to feed the fans and just post lots of content from tour - especially backstage.

liked by jeffezoff and 977,877 others

yourinstagram i’ve decided love on tour isn’t over until i stop posting hslot content. so here is a tiny instagram dump of some backstage shenanigans. we have h putting on his rings. a couple photos of me and h (tehe). and a photo of h that he sent me that i thought you might all like. 🫶✨🌙

view all 59,767 comments

harryfan1 NO YOU DIDN’T OMG QUEEN YN

harryfan2 this is why yn is harrys best girlfriend

harrystyles You’re trouble, you.

yourinstagram @/harrystyles why are you using punctuation like that?

harryfan3 i adore their relationship so much omg

harryfan4 the drought is un-droughting thanks to our saviour miss yn

••••••••••

“BABE!” Harry shouted.

“Yes?” You said sheepishly, hiding under the bed sheets as Harry stormed into the room with a smirk on his face.

He shook his head before, rising to stand on the mattress and loom over you.

“You are…”

“Amazing? Perfect? Beautiful?” You filled in the blanks for him, trying to get out of this silly situation.

“Well, obviously.” Harry rolled his eyes and mumbled quietly under his breath. “That photo is trending worldwide.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lifting the sheets higher over your head with a giggle.

In reality you knew exactly what photo he was on about because you had only posted it twenty minutes ago. It was impressive it was already worldwide trending.

A shirtless photo of Harry was just what the world needed during this time of crisis - a.k.a. the post tour blues.

“Oh, no? Really?” He acted along.

“Maybe you could recreate it?”

“Oh, you’d love that wouldn’t you.”

Harry knelt down on the mattress and then proceeded to flop on top of you. You made a noise as he did and laughed as you struggled to regain the breath he had just winded out of you.

“Harrryy..” You laughed in complaint.

“That’s the last time I send you a shirtless picture.”

“No!”

liked by gemmastyles and 797,877 others

yourinstagram here’s another daily hslot dump. unfortunately this one does not contain any shirtless photos of harry :(

view all 29,837 comments

harryfan1 SHES SO REAL

harryfan2 this is everything i want this so bad

annetwist Lovely photos❤️

harris_reed My baby angels

harrystyles I love you🩷

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Perfect.

Pairing/AU: Soft Boyfriend!Joel Miller X Curvy AFAB!reader , no outbreak.

Words count: 3612, One shot.

Summary: Basically Joel worshipping you and your curvy body ❤️

Warning: +18 only because there is a little bit of smut in the end (Joel 🍽️😺), nothing too serious but still. Reader is curvy, has wide hips, big breasts, has hair (not specified how long or what color it is or anything), has a freckle above her upper lip. Age not mentioned but they’re both fully grown adults. Joel is the cutest and loves you deeply like anyone has ever done before. (If I did things right you will end up crying a little bit, hopefully)

We talk about not accepting ourselves, seeing ourselves as ugly, having a bad relationship with a parent (mom), briefly about bullying and in general about how society perceives non-conforming bodies and how sometimes we convince ourselves that we are wrong. I don't go into much depth but there are still some passages that I feel are truly mine, so you are warned. I don’t want to trigger you, I want you to feel beautiful and valid and one of a kind and special. All of you.

I was toying myself with the idea of a story about Joel and a curvy reader and this came out. I wrote this at 2am after listening to “Pedro” and “Glow” by Omar Apollo with tears streaming down my face, it’s probably full of mistakes (English is not my first language, no beta reader because it’s 2 fucking am and I should sleep like everybody else in my time zone instead of doing this DAMN!) so I beg your pardon, my brain is a mess right now.

Most of all, I hope you will like it, let me know! Thanks to anyone who will read this.

You wake up in bed alone and you stretch your arm on the other side of the bed feeling it empty and cold.

Joel is out for work, meeting a big potential client who wants to renovate his huge mansion.

Obviously he has to try to get the job, but you feel like he's been forever away when he's only been gone for two days.

Your bed feels so large without him in it.

You grab his pillow to try to inhale his scent, just a little tiny bit of him that still lingers on it.

Your man smells amazing, even when he come home after a full day of working in a construction site you’re madly aroused by the minty, sweet, sweaty essence of him.

You don’t care that he’s covered in dust and rubble, you just throw yourself in his arms and take his mouth that rightfully belongs to you and only you and you feel so lucky and blessed to have him in your life.

You had so much troubles with your love life.

You’ve never been skinny, to begin with.

You always had a discomfort with your appearance, your friends were tiny and cute while you were just standing there being ignored.

You had a very almond mother that didn’t waste a chance to remind you how big you are, how much you need to take diet more seriously and become the skinny person every guy wants to marry.

You suffered from that until you were an adult and you could afford going to therapy.

It helped you a lot.

Embracing your body and shape was a long and difficult process but it was worth it.

You gained so much confidence and learned how to be kind to yourself.

But you still had difficulty with boys, growing up you learned to notice strange guys at first glance, after a series of failures with gym fanatics who wanted to change you, older men who wanted to control you and cowards who kept you hidden as if they were ashamed of you.

And then, one day, you met Joel.

While you were looking at him from the other side of the bar too shamed to do anything he walked towards you.

You immediately thought that he was coming to talk to your skinny friend that was with you but no.

He wanted to spoke to you.

That big strong man, broad chest and shoulders, wavy dark brown hair and eyes like the most delicious chocolate cake introduced himself and asked if you wanted something else to drink and the last thing you know you two were talking about everything for 3 hours straight, totally immersed in each other.

You barely noticed that your friend tap your shoulder to tell you that she was going home.

You mentally took a note to apologize profusely to her the following day but you really didn’t want to leave.

It felt too good to be with Joel, talking to him was so easy and he melted your heart in a way you didn’t experience in a long time.

You really didn’t want to give up on him.

You have so much in common with him and he made you laugh and you felt cute and confident and it really worked like magic.

He made sure to compliment your outfit and your hair and your pretty eyes and he made you feel so good about yourself.

You noticed the way he was smiling and looking so intensely at you, he was hungry and turned on by you.

You couldn’t believe that this handsome man was so into you but couldn’t ask for anything better.

You never really parted ways after that first night together, he was a perfect gentleman, took you home on his truck and he never tried to touch you until the two of you arrived at your door.

He was saying goodnight to you when you heard him whisper “oh fuck it” and he kissed you, no longer holding back. It was a perfect kiss, full of desire and passion and you could feel his need for more through his lips and the way his tongue found its way into your mouth.

You felt vulnerable and weak as if he really saw you, beyond appearances, beyond fences that you have built to defend yourself, in the most hidden part of yourself. And you didn’t mind feeling that way in front of a man, in front of him.

You knew it was right.

You could feel it in your bones.

You wanted to drag him inside the house but you stopped just in time before completely losing control.

“I don’t do this at first date, you know” you whispered in his ear while he was kissing your neck giving you shivers down your spine.

His mouth was eager and insatiable, nipping at your skin like he was starved, but again, he was a real gentleman and didn’t do anything you didn’t wanted.

He was fully respectful of your boundaries and conquered your heart with patience.

At your fifth date you were so thirsty for him that you couldn’t even get to the restaurant.

He knocked at the door dressed in dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt that hugged his biceps and his chest in a way that drove you completely wild, you took his hand without saying a word and run to the bedroom dragging him with you with no shame whatsoever.

You didn’t care about manners, dinner that was booked the week before, whatever else that could delay that moment.

You just wanted him.

You felt safe with him and this made you even more horny.

He fucked you wildly and then cuddled with you in the sweetest way ever.

Your heart was full, your body soothed and your thirst quenched.

You moved in together after 6 months of the most fulfilling relationship you had ever had.

Joel has his flaws, he is stubborn, when he is angry he can barely speak and mutters under his breath, he doesn't know how to cook, he's messy and leaves his dirty socks on the carpet in the living room, sometimes he's way too protective and it drives you crazy the way he always tries to warn you off from everyone as if you're not used to assholes.

Minor things compared to how he makes you feel anyway.

When he loves, he loves deeply.

He showers you with compliments and nice gestures, he’s a grumpy with a heart of gold.

And he’s handsome. So handsome you can’t believe that he’s your man even if he makes sure to tell you how beautiful, smart and sexy you are everyday.

You yawn and finally decide to get up, you head to the kitchen and make yourself a coffee.

It’s Saturday and Joel is supposed to come home in a few hours.

After breakfast you do some chores and cleaning around the house.

You go to the supermarket to buy ingredients to make his favorite dinner.

And then you decide to take the afternoon to yourself, you take a long bath and relax in the tub listening to music lulled by the hot water and the scent of bubble bath.

Once out, you decide to wear the dress you wore on your first date with Joel.

You remember perfectly how he looked at you and you feel a shiver down your spine. You haven't worn it for a while and as soon as you put it on you discover that it is too tight on your breasts and hips. You know you've gained a few pounds since you've been with him, you're relaxed, you're happy, you don't care, but you really wanted to give him a perfect evening and this makes you nervous. You look in the mirror and fall back into all the negative thoughts about yourself. It's a fragile balance.

You're still navigating the middle of it, even though you're much better.

You take off the dress and put it back in the closet, hidden, where you can barely see it, hoping bad mood will pass even though you know it has completely ruined your day.

You start cooking, leaving the decision on what to wear until later.

You like cooking and have always been successful at it, your grandma shared all her recipes with you and teached you all her secrets.

Your mother just told you the calories in everything you cooked.

When everything is ready you go to get dressed, you stare at your clothes for what seems like an infinite amount of time, sighing. In the end you choose another dress, black, narrower at the waist and wider at the hips. It leaves your legs uncovered, it's not like the other one but it still suits you so you make the best of it.

You’re spraying yourself with your favorite perfume when you hear the keys turning in the lock and you instinctively run to the door.

As soon as he opens the door you don't even give him time to enter and you throw your arms around his neck.

“Hi sweetheart” he whispers in your ear as he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you tight against his chest “did you miss me?”

You can hear a little laugh in his voice as you reply “of course, I couldn't wait for you to come back”

You take his lips with urgency and just feeling his scruff brushing gently against your cheeks and your cupid bow makes you feel better.

He tastes sweet, he’s warm and familiar.

He never fails to make you whole.

When you're with him it feels like the world is turning right, like things are all falling into place, magically.

One look is enough for him to understand you.

His tongue makes room into your mouth so easily and intertwined with yours and you’re lost in his embrace.

When you finally part to take breath he’s grinning and watching at you with burning desire in his eyes.

“I missed you too. Let me see you, sweetie. I want to admire my beautiful babe in this dress”

You instantly feel better and do a pirouette laughing to make him look at you.

“Jesus, hun, it’s really amazing on you”

You walk up to him and give him a kiss on the hairless part of his beard, then take his lips again.

You moan into his mouth when his hands move to your ass, stroking it gently then squeezing it.

“I love your ass babe, so full and juicy and soft”

You whine at his praise, kissing his jawline and his neck.

You rest your face on his chest enjoying his warmth.

“It's amazing how you always make me feel better. I felt like crap a few hours ago." you murmur.

“Why, love, what happened?” you can clearly hear concern in his voice.

“I wanted to wear the dress I wore the first time we went out…but it's too tight now” you whisper, a little bit ashamed.

He cups your face with his hands, looking at you with sweetness.

An incredible sweetness that instantly melt your heart.

“Don’t be sad babe, a dress is just a dress, it doesn’t fit you anymore? Who cares. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and I’m so lucky to have you”

You want to cry, but you don't, instead you take his lips back into yours, grateful to have a man like that by your side.

No one has ever made you feel more loved than him.

You kiss him intensely, so much that you're almost breathless, but it doesn't matter.

You feel his erection pressing against your thigh and you can't wait any longer, you even forget about dinner already being prepared and he doesn't seem worried either.

“Can we go to our bedroom already? I need you so bad, Joel” you pant against his skin.

“Whatever my love wants” and he take you by the hand “I definitely need to remind you how much I love you and how incredibly sexy and lovely you are. Come with me”

He takes you to your bedroom without stopping to hold your hand and makes you sit on the edge of the bed.

He looks you in the eyes as he caresses your cheek with his knuckles. It's incredible how delicate his big hands can be.

He trace the outline of your jaw with his fingertips never stop looking at you.

He then moves to your neck, placing his hand right under your ear, his fingers hidden in your hair.

He leans down to kiss your nose and your lips, so softly.

“Babe, you’re the most precious thing I have in my life, I don’t know what I would do without you”.

His voice is low, slightly hoarse, it surrounds you like a hug, it goes straight to your heart, every little intonation that characterizes it, how it glides over the vowels and caresses the consonants, his breathing, that warmth that emanates, that sense of familiarity and comfort, his sensitivity and his inner strength and his fragility that he is not afraid to show.

He lowers the straps of your dress and makes you stand up just for a moment to let it fall at your feet, sliding it over your hips.

He makes you lie down on the bed, while he also undresses, remaining in his boxers. He climbs onto the bed and lies down next to you.

“Never forget how gorgeous you are, please”

His hand slides over your breast, still covered by your bra, he searches for your nipple and takes it between his fingers, pinching and pulling it gently.

“I love your tits, so big and perfectly shaped” and he kisses you there. “I love your pretty face, and your smile and your sparkling eyes and your luscious lips.” Each word is followed by a kiss on the body part he just mentioned “And your silky hair. And this freckle right here. Above your upper lip. I would do nothing but kiss it all the time. I love the smell of your skin and your taste, so sweet.”

You can't believe he's doing this, he's literally worshipping every part of you.

“I love your incredibly sexy hips and thighs."

His lips move over you like velvet, like butterflies flapping their wings on your skin, so impalpable and yet so real.

“I love every inch of your body, especially those that seem too much to you. And of course I love your intelligence and how you laugh at my stupid jokes that never make anyone laugh. I love that you’re funny and sarcastic. I love the little wrinkle that comes between your eyebrows when you concentrate. I love the way you squint when I say something about my work that you don’t know. I love the way you look at me, I love hugging you and feeling your breathtaking body on mine.”

Joel isn't one for many words, he generally prefers action but now he's a river in flood and looks at you haunted.

It's an incredible feeling to have him all to yourself, to have the certainty of being able to trust him blindly, without the fear that he will turn out to be like everyone else you've been with.

No one has ever treated you this way before, with devotion, as if your body were a priceless treasure.

You yourself were mean to this body, you hated it, you tried to change it, you cursed it and cried because it didn't look like anyone else's when the only thing you wanted was to be like one of your friends.

Thin. Impeccable. Someone who fits any dress and who has never heard "we don't have your size". One who wasn't laughed at, treated like a joke, one who everyone looked up to, one whose face people didn't throw pies at and call a whale or a monster.

Joel knows all this. You told him. And everything he's ever tried to do is exactly the opposite of what they've always done to you.

An ode of love to you, to your body, to your soul.

He moves between your knees, settling at the end of the bed.

He leaves a trail of kisses along your inner thighs moving up and up towards your pussy, his beard deliciously rough on your skin.

He smiles at your already wet panties, at the unmistakable stain that spreads across the front.

You wore a cute white lacy pair with matching bra that he bought to you last Christmas.

You sigh in anticipation as he takes the time to stroke and tease your clit through the fabric with just one finger.

He then slides his fingers into the sides of your panties, he makes your hips rise slightly and takes them off, smiling at you.

You gasp as he buries his face between your legs kissing your folds so softly, he stick his tongue out and lick your lips and then part them with two fingers and kiss your clit.

You moan loudly and feel his smile widening on your skin, he’s so good at this and he knows that you love the way he does it.

He takes your clit in his mouth and suck gently.

“You’re so wet babe” and he kiss your lips again “so good for me, the perfect woman”

He teases your hole with his tongue, just the tip, while his thumb circle around your clit.

Nice and slow, a steady pace that makes you whimper against his face.

You grab his hair pushing him even more against your pussy, whining in pleasure.

You feel his beard crawling across your skin, you know it will redden your skin but you don't care, you don't care about anything now.

He continues to lick you, up and down and then back to your clit, his large hand splayed on your tummy.

You've always been ashamed of your tummy.

He adores it. He always tells you, he likes to touch it and he likes to kiss it and he loves that it’s so soft and fluffy.

He groans as you tug his hair and increases the pace, making his way into your hole with two of his thick fingers, stretching you and searching for the spongy spot that always makes you feel on fire.

You raise your head slightly to look at him and see his eyes staring at you mischievously and proudly, he likes looking at you, he doesn't want to miss a second of your pleasure.

He’s again on your clit with his mouth, swirling around it with his tongue.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you, you whine again and again more and more loudly.

He doesn’t stop.

“Joel I-” your voice cracks in an attempt to say something “God, I just can’t”

“Yes, you can, babe, just come for me, I want to feel it. Come all over my face”

you whine, squeeze his head between your thighs, your hand tucked in his hair “Joel!”

You feel a heat radiating inside you, your orgasm building as he gives you no respite.

“Come on baby, give it to me” he whispers softly on your skin.

And you do. You explode at his praise, at his begging for you to give him what he wants.

You pant loudly as he doesn't stop licking you until you calm down.

He comes back next to you and kisses you. You taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, you're all over his face and it drives you crazy.

“Fuck me Joel. Fuck me now, please” your voice comes out almost desperate.

He looks at you, nodding without saying anything else, takes off his boxers and climbs on top of you, making you spread your legs to make room for himself. He takes his cock in his hand and rubs it on your clit. Once, twice, three times, wetting it with your pleasure that slid down to your inner thighs.

“You want my cock, babe?”

You nod repeatedly looking at him with beg in your eyes.

“Tell me how much you want it”

“I want it, Joel. I want it so bad. Please”

He enters you effortlessly, even though he's big, much bigger than any man you've ever had.

“Always so tight for me, God, you’re so amazing”

He wraps his arms around your torso and pulls you up to sit on top of him, he’s sitting on his heels, his cock still inside you.

He kisses you deeply, his tongue licks hungrily into your mouth, he holds you tight against his chest, you moan into his lips feeling you totally enveloped by him, your arms around his neck, ruffling his hair, your thighs around his waist.

His cock burns in your center, he moves his hips to sink into you, deep.

You feel like you're one, you're totally drunk on him and it's an overwhelming thrill.

He fucks you like this, holding you close to him, each thrust harder and harder, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.

You fill your nostrils with his scent, his masculine unmistakable scent, the one you were missing this morning.

The scent that smells of home and comfort and caresses and the purest love you've ever felt.

It’s here now.

And it’s yours.

You end up hugging each other on the bed, tired but incredibly happy. You are still held in his arms as he whispers “I love you” into your hair.

You look up and look him in the eyes and you know it's true.

"I love you too.”

[lovebugism]

Spoooooky request, what if the gang went to a haunted house and everyone made fun of reader for being scared, but Steve holds her hand and walks with her 👻

thanks for requesting angel! i switched it up a bit and did a sort of second part to this fic! you def don't have to read it but it'll give some context :D — you're still getting used to the world post-vecna, but it's easier with steve holding your hand

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

The haunted house off Fifth Street looks strangely familiar. Two stories, faded cornflower paint job, boarded up windows. It looks like a dollhouse from hell. It looks like the goddamn Creel House. It’s like some kind of sick joke.

It didn’t take Hawkins very long to recover from last spring. Mostly because it was just an earthquake to everyone else. No one died, nothing was ruined beyond repair. To the rest of the town, it was just a minor natural disaster — an inconvenience more than anything.

No one knows that a thirteen-year-old girl killed the monster trying to end the world. No one knows that the local freak nearly died saving a bunch of teenagers. No one knows that one song, one heavy metal guitar, and one good memory just narrowly saved your life. 

It’s secrets all of you are gonna have to keep for the rest of your lives. It weighs you down accordingly.

“Am I crazy, or is that…?” Robin trails off, freckled chin tilted towards the velvet blue sky as she gapes at the artificially rotted house. It glows a sickly green color on the outside. The windows light up red every now and then, in time with the screams echoing from the upper story.

“Yeah,” Nancy answers, breathless and equally dumbfounded. “I think it is.”

A beat of silence falls over the group of you. It doesn’t feel so heavy with the surrounding chatter. The crowd continues to bustle around you on the street, falling over themselves with laughter and lingering fright. They have no idea the ghost story they grew up with nearly destroyed the world.

The bitter realization makes your chest ache. Steve seemingly understands this and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. You wonder if he can feel the way you tremble.

Eddie scoffs a cynical laugh from the other side of you. A pink, sadistic grin tugs at his lips, almost as wild as his curls billowing in the autumn breeze. “It’s basically kismet then, huh?”

Steve shoots the boy a half-hearted glare, then deflates because he realizes he can’t really be mad about it. Those damn demobats might’ve taken a pound of flesh from his stomach, but it’s nowhere near the feast they made out of Munson.

“C’mon on, dude,” he murmurs quietly with a subtle nod down at you.

“What?” Eddie snorts. “If I don’t laugh bout it, I’ll start crying, so… Take your pick, man.”

Steve wants to tell him that there’s no shame in crying. That he’s done it plenty of times since the fall of ’84. He’s cried for you, for himself, for the kids who will never get to be kids again. He figures it’s better than letting it all build up until you damn near explode. 

But now’s probably not the best time for that talk. Or any time, really. He’ll get you to get all serious and sappy with Eddie about that another time, just like you did for him.

“I’m gonna, uh— I’m gonna go get the tickets,” Jonathan murmurs with his usual Byers mumblings. 

He wasn’t around for the whole Vecna ordeal — just the weird shit in California and the secret lair thing in Nevada. He feels like he can be a bit braver about the whole thing for the four of you.

Nancy brushes a kiss to the boy’s cheek before he leaves. She does that a lot now, with Jonathan and all the rest of you. She always feels like she needs to say a proper goodbye and I love you whenever someone leaves. Just in case the world decides to end again.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Steve mutters to you, gaze twinkling with sincerity but stern still. “You know that, right?”

He knows that you know, but he feels the need to say it anyway. Mostly because he knows you were already scared of most things before everything went to shit. You’ve always been delicate, tender, like an open wound. Now, you can’t step outside without shaking. You’re always shuddering with the distant fear that the curse might return and no one will be there to save you.

Steve knows this, too. That’s why he holds so ardently to your trembling hand. It’s a silent reminder that he’s there, that he won’t let anything happen to you again, that he’ll always be around to save you when you need him.

“Oh, my god,” Robin groans, eyes wide and head tilted back. “Leave her alone, Steve! She’s fine!”

You know she’s just trying to be supportive. She thinks Steve’s coddling you because you’re quiet — that he’s sticking up for you because he thinks you can’t stick up for yourself. 

He is. And you can’t. But still, she’s only trying to help.

Steve looks to his left to glare at her. They seem to communicate telepathically for a moment. His eyes soften again when he turns back to you. His deep cinnamon gaze swims with a honeyed concern, a silent “Are you fine?”

You nod. “I’m okay,” you tell him, mustering a soft smile that wavers at the edges.

He doesn’t believe you, not completely, but he doesn’t press it any further.

Jonathan returns with the ticket stubs. They’re black and blood red. You take the one he gives you with hesitant, clammy hands. He seems to notice how terrified you are without you having to say a single goddamn word.

“I’m not a huge fan of these things either,” he confesses with a thin-lipped smile. A light-hearted way of telling you that you’re not alone in the fear you keep hidden (very poorly hidden, you figure).

You smile back at him, but it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. 

Your fingers fidget with the paper stub — maybe a distraction for yourself or maybe to hide how you’re too anxious to stay still. Steve figures it’s a bit of both. ‘Cause he knows you too well and not a thing gets by him. There’s nothing about you that he doesn’t notice.

He turns to face you completely while everyone else gets their ticket. He keeps his wedged between his middle and forefinger as his hands curl around the outsides of your elbows. He’s serious, but still soft — gentle, but still firm. 

“Babe—”

“Stevie,” you interject with a similar tone. “I’m okay.”

“You heard her, Stevie. She’s fine!” Robin retorts, curling her maroon-tinted lips into a smirk. She scoffs out a laugh and gestures up to the fake haunt across the street. “This shit is basically for kids. No one’s dying here, alright?”

You know what she’s doing. She’s sticking up for you and taking the piss out of her best friend at the same time. It’s nothing new — hell, it’s her favorite hobby. She’s got your back now the same way she had it in that house last spring. 

But still, her words sting a little.

Because she’s right. This place is for kids. And you still feel a bit like you’re dying.

Steve knows this, too. He knows everything about you. Even the stuff you wish he didn’t.

His sneakers scuff against the pavement when he turns to Robin. His eyes narrow in a challenging squint as he crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn’t look quite as intimidating as usual in his fluffy, cable-knit sweater. 

“Well, you know what? I’m scared, actually. I don’t wanna do it, okay? You got me, Rob.”

The girl grins something cynical. She shakes her head all slow, like she’s just caught him in some kind of lie. “I knew it. You little baby.”

Steve lets her tease him. It’s not like he isn’t used to it by now. He just rolls his eyes and bears it, lets her laugh about it with the rest of the group as they head towards the haunted house. 

You watch with an attentive gaze while they head inside, flinching softly when you hear a thunderous boom and the sound of their screaming a second later. It leaves you secretly grateful that you hadn’t gone in behind them. 

A wavering sigh tumbles from your lips, a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Steve exhales a gentle laugh from beside you. He smooths a wide palm up your spine and down again. He leans over to press the side of his hip against yours.

You cross your arms over your chest to make yourself as small as possible while you glance over at the boy beside you. You look at him so far beneath your lashes you’re basically peering at him from the corner of your eye.

“Thank you,” is all you say. It’s all you need to say.

Steve shrugs with a plush, crooked grin. “’S okay. I know you’re too sweet to say no, so…”

“I wanted to do it,” you confess, clearing your throat when your voice breaks.

“I know.”

“I guess I’m not… as used to everything as I thought.”

“I know,” Steve repeats. His hand curls around your waist and makes a home in the very center of it. He pulls you closer with the urge to melt into you. His brows raise, eyes sparkling when his smile widens. “But that’s why I’m here, though, right? We’re gonna get better together.”

You nod up at him, smiling more sincerely now. 

Arms still crossed, your hands ball into fists to fight the urge to smooth a hand through his hair — to push back the rogue chestnut strands hanging over his forehead.

You hesitate, so he beats you to the draw. He swipes a golden hand over his head right before he leans down to kiss you. 

He smacks a sweet peck to your smile. A bright light flashes with another thunderous boom a moment later. You flinch and pull back. You swear you hear Eddie screaming, “jesus fucking christ!” from the upper story. You forget to be scared.

You didn’t think it was possible. The whole getting better thing.

Steve makes you feel like could be.

[mediumgayitalian]

fic rec friday 13

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

I Need A Hero by @theroyalsavage

The "Nico is a superhero, Will is a med student" AU nobody asked for or wanted.

OBSESSED WITH THIS AU OBSESSED WITH THIS AU OBSESSED WITH THIS AU. I AM LOSING MY MIND AND HAVE READ IT SO MANY DOZENS OF TIMES. genuinely one of my top faces like its so fucking GOOD!!! the romcom romance of it all!! makes me lose it!!! the angst of loving someone who is constantly putting himself on the front lines!! the fear of not knowing if he's coming home!! being his healer, holding his life in your hands because he doesn't trust it with anyone else!!!! what if i rioted!!! what if i chewed clean through my ceiling!!!!! what if i swallowed my phone!!!!!!!!!!!!!! what if i clawed my way out of the pit of despair!!!! i am!! gonna!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHH!!!

2. As If His Hands Were Enough (to Hold an Avalanche Off) by @theroyalsavage

Nico di Angelo has been through enough to know life doesn't always work out the way you plan. But fate is a funny thing, and, in Nico's junior year of college, it hands him salvation in the form of freckled cheeks and a smile like the sun.

OH dude this author is actually everything to me. prepare for an onslaught of their stuff bc i am OBSESSED, but this one especially....oh it's special man. this had me LOSING MY MIND. seph’s acceptance made its way into my devotion scrapbook. never be ashamed of loving anybody….what a fucking thesis. i also ADORED how a) story didn’t end with them getting together, went thru them learning each other too and b) nico didn’t get fixed by dating will. he got fixed by loving himself, something he learned to do by loving will. crying.

3. Of Gods and Men by @theroyalsavage

There is something profoundly strange about the forest behind Will Solace’s new house. The trees, it seems, breathe magic. The truth is this: there are things that the forest hides that humans cannot understand. Nico di Angelo is one of them.

I LOVE PARTICULAR AUS!!!!!! AND I LOVE YOU ROYAL SAVAGE!!!!! dude god nico and mortal will is always gonna knock me flat bc its so canon, you know? will is going to be a consort of a god one day. and to read it in fic has me HOWLING but this one in particular....OH the ending is gonna knock yall flat fr!!! if you like percy refusing immortality for annabeth youre gonna LOVE this!!

4. Kitchen Nightmares by @theroyalsavage

Nico is the owner and head chef of an upscale restaurant in Hell's Kitchen, New York City. There's nothing easy about running a business, especially when you have to juggle an overprotective father, a college-age sister, and a staff about as under control as a stampede. The last thing Nico needs is a rival in the form of the ugliest food truck on the face of the planet. And yet, that's exactly what he gets. Of food fights, fledgling friendships, and Nico di Angelo's stupid little soft spot for Will Solace.

i know ive literally said it like five times now but NO ONE does an au like theroyalsavage idc. dude romeo & juliet but food truck and fancy restaurant?? hello!!!! omg!! i literally sat my ass down and devoured this i could not stop myself. and then i hit the end and started it right back up again. the love without having the space to establish anything….inherent homoeroticism of rivalry…..my heart!!

5. don't wanna be lonely, just wanna be yours by @theroyalsavage

Will Solace, café manager extraordinaire, just wants to coast through their monthly open mic night in peace. He definitely is not banking on meeting a handsome stranger with the voice of the gods and the death glare of a high-ranking member of the KGB. And yet, that's exactly what he gets.

telling someone you’re not even dating you’re in love with them after like five months is insane behaviour will solace i get you 😭😭 he is so real in every scenario all the time like he is genuinely perfect for nico who is equally as insane and deserves someone who is fully obsessed with him. god.

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

[ugotcooneycrossed]

you're my kind of woman

kyra cooney-cross x reader

w/c: ~700

you comfort kyra after the world cup third place match

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

Standing in the friends and family stands when the final whistle blows hurts.

There’s an air of disappointment circling through- what feels like the entire stadium, and you feel your heart break just a little more when you see your girlfriend plop herself down in the middle of the field.

Her knees are pulled up and her elbow rests on top of them- her hands hiding her face. Your hands grip the rail tighter and you want to almost leap over to run to her.

You decide against it though- instead using your wag privileges, you make your way down to the field, flashing security your little badge. There’s a sea of people you have to try manoeuvre your way through. Swedish player rushing past you excitedly, some screaming happily as they make their way to the change rooms.

You make a mental note to never go to, or eat at IKEA again.

You just manage to poke your head out of the tunnel- and you scan the field, no sight of Kyra. You frown at that and you turn around to try find a quiet place to call her- you know there’s no point, she won’t have her phone until much later but she always does love your voicemails.

Just as you turn and start to walk back-  strong arms wrap you in a hug, tightening around you so you can’t move, a face buries itself into your neck and you feel wet tears start to tickle your neck.

“Hi my stargirl.”

Kyra tighten her holds on you at that, shaking her head.

“Yes- you are, and you’ll always be sweetheart.”

Your hand holds the back of her head- you press a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you so much Kyra- I’m so, so, proud of you.”

She pulls away from the hug- smiling at you softly, eyes crinkling and freckled cheeks pulled upwards.

“I love you so much.”

You pull her into another hug- and her arms wrap around your waist. You stand there for a while, just hugging each other, when a voice interrupts.

“There you are! Kyra come on we need you back.”

Your girlfriend smiles at you apologetically, and you shoo her away with a smile.

“Go- I’ll see you later.”

-

You end up back at your hotel- watching as many clips of the post-match interviews you can. Your heart breaks a little more for the girl’s- especially when you see Kyra crying again.

You grab your phone- pulling up her contact to call her.

Calling ‘Kyra<3'

“Hi baby.”

She answers almost right away- and you hear the girls in the background.

“Hey- almost done?”

“Yeah, nearly- I’ll sneak over to your hotel later.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

-

You’re in bed after dinner- Kyra resting her back against the headboard, you laying in her lap. She’s twirling your hair in between her fingers and only half listens to what your saying.

You know because you stopped talking a while ago- yet she stills nods occasionally as if she is listening. You squeeze her hand to get her attention.

“You okay?”

She shrugs.

“I guess I’m still a little sad.”

You take a moment to think- looking up at her and smiling softly.

“That’s okay. But, remember- I am so proud of you. You played your heart out and it’s going to be alright.”

She smiles again- sliding down to face you in bed. She presses a kiss to your nose and you push her away with a small laugh.

She reaches out to tuck your hair behind you ear- stroking you cheek with her thumb.

“I’m really okay though- I have you, and you’re all I really need.”

“You sap.”

“Yeah, yeah- I’m the sap, sure, not like you don’t wear my shirt every game.”

“-s’cuse you! I’m not the athlete here.”

She giggles a little.

“Oh, I know.”

You narrow your eyes at her and turn the other way- you hear her start to protest at that.

“No- turn back around.”

You do- pressing a kiss to her lips when you do.

“Oh- by the way, we need a new bed- the one back home is from IKEA.”

[simply-trash5]

heeeyyyy do you happen to do trigun 🥺👉👈 also BNHA DILFs is such a vibe rn can we have sum yummy hcs pretty please 🤤 i can't decide who so dealers choice 🥴

Heyyyy anon sweetie!

Sorry I am just now replying, I have the flu so miss girl is struggling. I am planning to watch Trigun so I don’t do it yet, but please come back soon and request because I will once I watch it ✨

So BNHA DILFs huh? Yummy HC will be under the line.

First and foremost let’s assume that all of my DILFS are divorced DILFs ✨ single and on the prowl…

Let’s start with Daddy OneforAll:

DILF Izuku is that big hunk of man with the boyish charm that has NO IDEA how sexy he truly is. I have this idea about you meeting him in the park while he plays with his kids. His kid will accidentally throw a ball where you are reading a book in the shade of a tree and here he comes to retrieve it. Curls falling in his face, a blush covering his cheeks when he notices your beauty that makes his freckles pop…he will stammer a little when he asks for your number…

Next thing you know you’re in his apartment. He arranged for a sitter for his kids and he took you on a date; now he has you on his couch kissing sweetly on your neck asking you if all of this is okay. His large scarred fingers are playing at the hem of your shirt ready and willing to all but rip it from your body.

DILF Izuku is patient and wants to take his time worshipping every inch of your body when he has you laid in front of him. He treats you like a goddess came to earth just for him as he watches you come undone from his tongue while you beg for him to fuck you mercilessly.

“Don’t worry sweetheart…I’m going to give you exactly what you want. Gonna take care of you…”

Next up DILF Bakugo:

Now I HC you meet him at some event for his children. I think his daughters are dancers and maybe you are their instructor and when he caught sight of you in your tights—all bets were off. He began to flirt here and there until he finally was bold enough to ask for your number and take you out.

Now you are bent over his bed being absolutely wrecked as he is pounding into you with a handful of your hair. He is all muscle and hard planes bent over you growling into your ear—“that’s right, be a good fucking girl ‘f me”

Now once he’s made sure he’s ruined you for anyone else he’s going to spoil the absolute shit out of you and show up at your studio all the time—even on patrols just to give you kisses or food or little gifts he thinks you’ll love because you’re one of his girls now and

“I’ll always take care of my girls…”

Now on to DILF Kirishima!

You meet DILF Kiri at the gym—at kids gym of course! He’s taking his little one to kids gym for a day of fun but he catches sight of you lifting and decides you need a little…help..on your form. So he leaves his little one in the caring hands of the instructors and comes over to ask if you want some help. You are stunned and maybe a little grumpy (which he finds cute) but sure why not. After a little fun banter you ask him for his number because he’s hot and you haven’t had a good fu—I mean date in a while.

One thing leads to another and Kiri has you in a mating press in his bed rubbing circles on your clit with those large fingers. You’re in shambles over his frame pressing on you and his cock hitting that spot so well and he’s cooing how ‘aww pretty girl you are doing so well don’t cry’ as he is wiping your tears. After you have came more times than you can count and he has marked you with his teeth—he cleans you up in a warm shower together and you lay in his soft bed as he strokes your hair and tells you how beautiful you are. You’re whipped and he’s whipped.

Now you’re going to the gym with him and bringing him lunch to the agency and prancing around in Red Riot merch as his little girlie friend. Good thing you’re getting speared by his dick every day that ends in a “y”. You’ll be moving in soon.

DILF simps come get yalls juice—lemme know if you want any other DILFs ✨❤️

[finniestoncrane]

Gotta be honest with you, I need to hear every single Digger headcanon you have because they 2 you've shared are just so good.

General Headcanons

KTJL!Boomer Headcanons yippee!!! woohoo!!! someone wants to listen to my bullshit!! i am so happy to write down more of my headcanons by the way, but for anyone wanting any make sure to let me know what you want the 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: mentions of nsfw things, it's fuckin boomer so of course, there's a whole load of nsfw headcanons and i mention piss because duh

General Headcanons

this is a sort of universal belief i suppose but i do think he lives in his van and i will live and die by my faith. he likes having everything he needs with him at all times. he will spout some bullshit rhetoric about living a "buddhist" existence with few material goods. and he's half right in that he has two pairs of underwear, and a collection of empty (or maybe not completely empty) beer cans rattling around back there

he's passed out twice while getting tattoos and he will yell and scream and argue that it was because his blood sugar was super low and not because he's a total wuss

he smells amazing. not like... good, don't get me wrong i don't think he smells nice. BUT he smells fuckin great. he has a natural deep musk that just hits the receptors nicely, the kind of smell that's laden with all the right pheromones to engage your caveman brain and have you swooning over him

bad habits (which i count as a bonus tbh) include: picking things: ears, skin, nose, anything. drinking to excess and then never learning a single lesson. masking all of his emotions until he's certain you won't make fun of him for having feelings. pretending to hate people that he loves because he can't be seen getting hurt. leaving his clothes lying around and relying on the smell test to get him through the process of getting dressed. kissing you in the morning before he has brushed his teeth. having no concept of personal space: he will steal blankets, he will curl around you in bed, he will sit too close to you on the sofa, he will hang off your body, he will hug you from behind and not let go, he will stand beside you all the time. refusing to take things seriously until he really has no other option. bad temper, and then defusing the situation by kicking something

yes, he has great tits and strong arms, but in my heart of hearts i know his stomach is not flat and in my head he has the sweetest lil beer gut to ever exist. it gets worse once he's just finished eating or drinking, and he cradles it and makes jokes about it being a girl or a boy. and while they might not have added it into the game, they did add in his sweet lovehandles on those hips, and he likes being grabbed by them and pulled into a hug. reminds him that when he's no longer big buff boomer, you'll still be super into his hot body

i think he's 45 years old fuck you. i think youngest he's 40, there's no way he's near me in age. we can consider sun damage to an extent but he has wrinkles, he's a dad, he's got big ol bags under his eyes and a slightly receding hairline

he's competitive, but not in an aggressive way, more in an annoying way. like you play a board game with him, and he'll do everything in his power to distract you, or use the rules against you. and if he loses, he doesn't go in a big strop, maybe a tiny huff with a few whines. who can refuse him a pity win when he's looking up at you all sad with those big green eyes and batting those silly eyelashes?

if there is something about you that he can mercilessly tease you for (without making you cry) he will harp on about it constantly. it's his way of showing that he's comfortable around you, enough that he can make you want to punch him in the throat. he can give but he can't take though, so remember that before you point out that he is in fact ginger, or that his freckles make him look so cutie-patootie, or that his tattoos are kinda dumb

you have to laugh at his jokes and puns, it's a requirement and he'd be tempted to make you sign a contract saying you will adhere to this rule. it gives him a boost, makes him feel proud. plus he is genuinely very funny, and the dorky nature behind his silly jokes is so endearing

Relationship Headcanons

when he falls for someone, he falls first and he falls hard. he also falls pretty easily, and he's no stranger to heartbreak, but he has his terrible coping methods to keep him going

he finds it easy to find something about everyone that he likes, because he's just prone to liking people. he thinks everything and anything is sexy, and he can find your good traits like a pig sniffing out truffles

he regularly brings home gifts for his partner, stolen or otherwise. no one needs to know how you aquired such an expensive piece of jewellery or that really nice original looking bit of art. maybe you just happen to save a lot of money by living in the back of his van with him!!

gifts are just one of the ways he is surprisingly thoughtful for a boy with no thoughts behind his eyes! dates are another thing he's fuckin stellar at!! wherever you're going and whatever you're doing you are guaranteed to have fun, that's just how he is. he makes everything tolerable, and he can turn a shit day into a great one

he's desperate for friendship, far more than he is for anything romantic or sexual, although if the two could go hand in hand that'd be an ideal scenario. he might claim to be chill and looking for a quick root, but he's far more interested in finding a partner who can be his buddy as well as his lover

there's never going to be a moment when he's not touching his partner by the way, like that is just something you are going to have to put up with

hand on your shoulder, hand in your hand, hand on your waist, hand on your thigh, hand on your back, hands around you as he hugs you from behind, hands around you as he hugs you from the front, hands around you as he hugs you from the side, hand on your butt, hand on your chest, hand on your stomach, hand on your cheek. the man has borderline separation anxiety

holding hands is his favourite though, especially when paired with his habit of loudly announcing your status to anyone within earshot. "oh this is my partner!" "yeah i'm their boyfriend!" "i'm fucking that beautiful bit of arse over there, thanks for asking!" like thank you, digger

he's surprisingly emotional, and surprisingly open once you get past his protective exterior layer. he's still always joking around and trying not to take things seriously, but the minute you or he needs some serious feeling time he is down for it

i don't think he would ever choose a sexuality. personally, i feel like he's bisexual or pansexual, but digger would say he's just sexual. he'll go for anything with a pulse who was happy to see him. there's a bit of digger for anyone (or anything...)

he'd be quick to take things to the next level with a partner he really loved. like he comes to pick you up one day in the boomer-van and he's like "tah-dah" and in the bacl there's a plastic storage box duct taped to the wall with your name written on it. this is how he would ask you to move in with him. you might need to get rid of a lot of your posessions but he wouldn't be adverse to you cleaning up the van or making it your own though!! i bet he'd love to have fairylights on the ceiling and some rugs on the floor

NSFW Headcanons

he has a piss kink. i know that is not a thing for most people, but i have evidence backing this up. it's barely a headcanon at this point, it's just straight up fuckin canonical fact lmao!! anyway i don't think it's a goes both ways thing most of the time. he likes to be the one pissing, it's where he refuses to be a switch and will only be the dominant one, usually

speaking of being the dominant one, it's what he's most comfortable with since he's a loud, brash, bold and heroic villainous boy, but he really doesn't mind switching things up. he can be a gentle dom, a bratty sub, and any combination in between. really, he is up for literally any activity or kink or fetish or position you can throw at him

he gets very vocal during sex. he spouts all kind of filth at you, confirming what he's doing, what he wants to do, and what he's going to do to you. his preferred terms are surprisingly gentle though, calling you kitten or pup, princess or prince, love, babe, baby. a combination of them all. aside from that, he is loud. volume is not something he can control when he's deep in the heat of the moment and he is the literal definition of animalistic. he growls while he fucks you, and he howls when he cums, and he has referred to himself as a dingo before...

of course, if you're getting particualrly nasty, or he's in a far more feral mood, he'll be growling low into your ear, calling you a dirty, nasty little cunt while he grabs your body and keeps you close

he's into any kink, sort of believing in trying anything once (or twice... or three times...) but there's a few he just LOVES. ones that if you mention them, you run the risk of having him cumming in his pants or rutting up against your leg like a desperate, badly behaved puppy

obviously, previously mentioned piss kink, but specifically if it involves some level of servitude or worship. like you on your knees holding his cock for him while he goes to the toilet, you offering to lick him clean, or letting him piss on you because you're so beneath him and he's yours to mark and claim. begging for a taste of him or pleading for him to use you gets him going too when you combine it with this

body worship or worship in general gets him going too. he's so desperate to be loved and wanted and adored and needed, so having someone beg for him, tell him they want him, they need his cock, his fingers, his hands, his saliva, his drool, his cum, anything he's willing to give them. top that off by calling him captain and he'll melt into a sticky little puddle

he's also way behind on comfort, so a little bit of gentle love mixed with kink is a great way to help him relax. feed him a tit or a hard cock, let him suck until he's soothed himself. hold him on your lap and stroke his hair while you tell him he's amazing, and so good at everything he does

cowboy digger is reporting for duty at the breeding ranch! get you some horns, a teeny tiny cowprint outfit, a tail and a bell and he'll either milk you dry until you're crying from overstimulation, or he'll ride you until he's pumped every last bit of cum into you, making sure you're ready for him to be the daddy

he'll fuck with the hat on. he's a socks on kinda guy too. he just gets way too into it way too quickly and forgets anything else but rutting and grunting

this could have been soft, if it wasn't george, but he loves when you fall asleep on him, like your head resting on his chest or his stomach or his lap or his shoulder. he'll be sweet, of course, and place a little kiss on the top of your head. but then he will try and sneak a look down your top or at your ass or to see if you have a visible bulge he can ogle

[cumulo-stratus]

ANGST | spencer reid x gn!reader

0.9k

It was dark, practically 2 AM. A soft early spring breeze fluttered through the slightly ajar window. 

This soft breeze wafted through the smell of spring, but this did nothing calm Spencer's tossing and turning. 

The restless genius had been up since midnight, when he had arrived home from a  case. 

Ever since your absence, Spencer had been a wreck. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't focus because he couldn't sleep, and he felt enormously guilty. 

It had only been a couple weeks since a large fight ending in a break up had taken place, and both yours and Spencer's wounds were still fresh. 

Spencer knew it was his fault, and these thoughts consumed him as he lay draped in his linen sheets, comforter abandoned in the growing warmth. 

But the thing he needed most, that was now gone along with you, was your touch- your body. 

He could still feel the ghosts of your palms as your fingers linked with his, and the pattern of your hip as he would run his hand across it. 

He felt like he could still feel your breath on his neck as you lay on him. Spencer could remember every inch of you, and he dreamt of it, hoping you would come back.

He lay there knowing you wouldn't, he had fucked up- majorly. But he couldn't rid his mind of his thoughts of you.

They were all consuming, every moment his mind could spare he thought of you. Your laugh; your smile, your hands and their scars and freckles he'd memorized. 

All these thoughts from the past couple weeks mounted and grew, until eventually Spencer found himself scrolling through his contacts for your name, pacing the length of his bedroom. 

He didn't have to scroll far, as he didn't have many people on his phone. When the letters spelling your name illuminated his dark(er than usual) under eyes, he let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

Even just seeing your name brought the tiniest bit of comfort, as well as a pang of guilt. 

When Spencer finally heard the quiet buzzing of his phone as it rung, he sucked in a breath.

His heart was beating, his shoulders were tensing as the anticipation mounted. But finally, after a minute or so of ringing, the line clicked.

Your voice came through groggy, as if you'd just woken up. Spencer knew you probably had, you wouldn't have picked up if you were aware who was calling. 

“Hello..?”

“Hey..”

Spencer heard your voice drop off when he spoke. 

“Spencer… why did you call me-” you were trying to sound angry, or stern, or anything but the lonely, heartbroken flutter that came out instead. 

Spencer could actively feel the crack form in his chest at this, his voice equally as shaky yet relieved when he spoke again. “I- I just missed you, I can't sleep, I can't focus, I can't do my job- I'm falling apart without you!”

The longing and passion grew with each passing word, tears brimming on his waterline.

Spencer stood there in the dark, soaking what he had just said. He couldn't see it, but if Spencer had been there he would've seen the tears that broke your waterline, rolling down your now wet cheeks. 

You longed for his touch, because if you were being honest with yourself (which weren't but for hypotheticals sake), you were falling apart too. 

But, here you were, each sat in your apartments, in the dark. The darkness felt like it was enclosing Spencer, clawing around him and grasping his chest so tight he found it hard to breath. 

After a long pause, Spencer took a breath and made a reckless decision. “I still remember you, the feeling of your hand in mine, the feeling of my palm on your cheek- I remember you, y/n.” 

Spencer's voice broke on the word you, revealing that he was now crying. 

You didn't know what to do, or what to say- your brain was in fight or flight. You chose flight. 

“You shouldn't have called Spencer.. goodnight.” 

And before Spencer could even think of a response, let alone even process what you had just said, the other line clicked with the sound of you hanging up. 

Spencer's phone fell from his palm as a sob racked his body. Spencer didn't even register the thump of the device falling to the carpet beneath him. 

Spencer had barely registered that he was now lying on his bed, clutching the sheets with an iron grip. The sobs that racked his body felt like they were grasping and clawing at his chest, closing up his throat. 

There were no tear tracks anymore, everywhere was a tear track. He had curled in on himself as far as possible trying to bring some warmth. He hoped the warmth would combat the suffocating darkness he was surrounded by. 

He wasn't sure when exactly he fell asleep, but soon he ran out of tears to cry- and his own sorrows surrounded him like a weighted blanket. 

Sleep was almost a comfort when Spencer's body couldn't cry anymore, just whimpers. 

That's how you both fell asleep, with no tears left to cry, encircled by your own mounds of sorrow. 

Taglist- @spencers1wifey | @mvndfvelds | @mindfullycriminal | @luce-reid |@ferrjulie | @khxna | @il0vebeingdelulu | @lover-of-books-and-tea | @jaden-reid | @eli-chris | @multifandomsimp69 | @starch1ldz | @shadoesx

join my taglist here

[keravnous]

the hunter! ; tangerine x fem!reader (smut, 18+)

read pt. 1 here | read pt. 2 here | read pt. 3 here

Tangerine expected someone else - but he'll do just fine with you, too.

(Based on that one scene from the Kraven The Hunter trailer where he turns around in that chair with the loaded crossbow)

warnings: kids, this is dark; this is like the darkest version of tangerine my brain has cooked up thus far; he is a sociopath by source sooo: manipulation; dub-con/non-con, coercion, gun kink, anger issues, crying, blood, murder/injuries, daddy kink, masturbation, slight dumbification, name-calling, pet names, corruption kink, spit kink

SO I SAW THE KRAVEN THE HUNTER TRAILER AND I REALLY COULDNT HELP MYSELF

"You fucking asshole!", you scream at the top of your lungs, bursting through the large door of your husband's office. It slams back into the lock just as you come to a halt on the expensive fur carpet in the middle of the spacious room.

His chair is facing the wall, a lit cigarette slowly glimming away in the ashtray. It lights up your rage like a match to gasoline.

"I am fucking speaking to you, you fucking dickhead! Can't you keep your dirty-ass dick out of that disgusting bitch you call a secretary for one day?", you are fuming, heart racing as you stomp down with your left heel, throwing your expensive and ridiculously small purse at him, missing the chair by nearly a whole foot. It crashes into the massive painting hanging behind the desk, where it leaves a nasty cut before falling to ground uselessly.

Your husband does not react and that, oh that, that get's you going alright, makes your blood race through your veins so hard you can hear it in your ears.

"I am fucking speaking to you -- turn the fuck around you coward!", you yell, hands clutched to tight fists, your jewellery cutting into the flesh.

Slowly, comedically slowly even, the chair turns. The man sitting in it puts his feet up on the table, legs clad in an expensive navy pin-stripe as he crosses them. And that --

That is not your husband.

The man, sitting in a chair that clearly isn't his, in an office that surely doesn't belong to him, is lean and a lot more handsome than the man you so reluctantly married a few years ago. His face is expressionless, bland like piece of paper, except for the anger pooling around his eyes. He is wearing an expensive looking pin-stripe suit and his hair is neatly combed back, 70s porn stache trimmed just as carefully - the only thing that looks out of place is the blood splattered on his face like freckles, one large splatter on his left cheek.

He is also pointing a gun at you. An actual fucking gun.

"And who the fuck are you, Lady?", he says, casually, but a little irritated nonetheless.

You choke on your own tongue, backing up a little. This is not good. It has your fight or flight kicking in, muscles in your back and legs tensing up and brain going numb, fingers starting to tingle.

"Don't ya move an inch", he growls, his gun following your movement. You freeze. You wonder if he will actually shoot you. You wonder what he is doing here.

"I-, I--"

The man rolls his eyes at you - pretty, pretty eyes; blue like the sea - and huffs out an exasperated sigh.

"Fuckin' answer me." His tone sends shivers down your spine and, if you did not already do so by his gun, you now know for sure that he is not playing around.

"I-", you take a deep breath, voice shaking and thin, "I- I am Markov's wife?"

It comes out more like a question, than an answer, really. You hope it will do; you hope he is happy with what is the - for you, rather sad - truth.

Tangerine cocks an eyebrow, leans back in the leather chair, gun still pointing at you. "'S that so?"

"Y-yes", you gulp.

"Didn't know he had a wife", he mutters, more to himself, really.

Tangerine can feel how the wheels in his head start to turn - the intel didn't suggest a marriage. It genuinely surprises him - not only because people in this profession rarely have spouses - but also because the young lady in front of him is way too pretty. Angelic, even. Too good for a boastful, careless cockroach of a criminal like Markov is. And he wants her, wants to own her. Wants to take take take. He wonders just how quickly she will break.

You, in the meantime, sense an opening.

"W-what do you want? I can g-give you money", you hastily stumble over the words, anxiety crawling up your spine, "A-all of it!"

The man raises his eyebrows, snorts amused. "No, love, I don't need your money."

"A-anything, p-please - just, just", and the dam breaks, eyes tearing up as your eyes zero in on the gun, "Just please d-don't kill me."

Something in his eyes changes, a dark shadow dancing over his face, eyebrows shooting up in surprise and then he pulls back the hammer of his revolver with his thumb. Your knees buckle a little as you hear the bullet snapping in place.

"Care to say that again, eh?" - Anything for your life, really.

"P-please don't kill me", you nearly sob, voice small and quiet, and you are ready, willing to put it all in there, "Please, I am begging you, Mister. I- I don't know why you're here, this - this is one big misunderstanding, I don't know anything about my husband's business. J-just let me go, please."

He does not move. You don't want to die, you are young, you still have a life to live. Maybe you will finally file for divorce. Maybe you will buy a house in Europe. Maybe, maybe, maybe -- You don't want to die.

"Please."

Tangerine says nothing for a moment, then his lips tilt up. "Tell me, love, d'ya beg for him that prettily, too? Or 's that just f'me?"

You blink. "What?", you blurt out.

"Jus' lemme hear it again, sugar - sounded so sweet, that."

You do not know what game he is playing but you really aren't ready to die yet either, so you give in.

"Please", you beg, looking at him with big, teary eyes - the barrel of the revolver stares back, a small black hole of ultimate death -, "Please, let me live." His lips tilt up and you decide to make a move on it, catch him off-guard.

"I-I'd do anything, I give you whatever you want!", you are growing desperate now, your brain trying its hardest to come up with something that will safe your ass. And that, that has his eyebrows knotting together.

The man seems to mull it over for a short while, eyes you up and down. Your skin tingles with it, feels numb and like it is on fire at the same time. "Did ya just say Anything, love?"

"I-I did, y-yes", and your voice grows desperate, "I'd do anything - just don't kill me, please, what do you want, I'll do --"

You ramble on and Tangerine rolls his eyes at you, exhales annoyed.

"Fuckin' shut up", he growls and you do, chin quivering a little with the tears still pooling in the corners of your eyes. You blink them away, sniffling a little.

"Here's what we're gonna do, love", he smiles cooly, shows his teeth like a predator, eyes drilling into you, "We're gonna have a little fun. And once we're done, I'll let ya go. How does that sound? Agreed?"

You have a suspicion what fun means, both, painfully clear and enforced by the way his gaze wanders over your body and you gulp. You really don't have a choice now, do you?

So you can hear yourself say: "Y-yes."

"Yes --?", he lifts his gun a little, gestures with it, "C'mon be a good girl."

Your eyes widen. You are not stupid; you know what he most likely wants to hear - you have met men like him before your marriage - and despite it making your stomach tingle a little it also makes painfully clear what he is imagining as A little fun.

Your voice is small, fingers fumbling with the hem of your tweed blazer. "Y-yes, Daddy", shivers run down your spine as his eyes turn dark dark dark, gaze transfixed by you and then he barks out a mean laugh.

"Fuckin' hell", what?, "I wanted you to thank me, you dumb fuckin' thing, not be a complete 'n utter slut about it."

Shame burns on your cheeks and you scramble for words - anything to say, to excuse or justify yourself - as mortification swallows you whole, crawls up your spine and mingles with your fear, has your head swimming.

"What a poor lil' airhead ya are", he grins at you meanly, "But I like it, go 'head, keep callin' me that. Probably gets you all wet, dunnit?"

You shake your head wildly - "N-no" - bottom lip quivering a little and he knows you are lying.

And Tangerine starts to grow bored. He has been feeling quite bored for a good while - since he blew Markov's lights out to be exact. He wishes he had not done it so soon, would have rather tied him up and let him watch how he has his way with his wife. Tangerine sighs, puffs his cheeks and let’s go off a breath dramatically, looks you straight in the eye.

"Alright, listen. I just don't have all day, so ya better get going, before I pop ya too", he waves his revolver at you, "Get undressed. 'n do it slowly."

You nod - I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die - fingers brush over the first button of your blazer, as he interrupts you: "Ah ah ah, what d'ya say?"

Your eyelids flutter and your knees feel like giving in. "Y-yes, Daddy."

Tangerine hums deep in his throat. "Atta girl - now keep going."

With shaking hands, cold sweat pooling between your fingers, you start to slowly unbutton the first few buttons of your costume's blazer. It's a Chanel tweed set, since you had just been out with some friends for lunch, before one of them told you about what had she'd seen yesterday. Part of you wishes you had never left the restaurant, just shrugged it off and ordered another drink instead. You don't even know why you fight for this marriage - you never really spoke to him; he never touched you or even really looked at you - not that you minded that much. But it's losing your status, the money he brings in, that you'd miss and thus, you had grown a nice pair of manicured claws over time.

See where that got you.

Your blazer falls to the ground with a thud and Tangerine licks his lips. And that is when another part of you, very quietly at the back of your mind, is a little glad you came here. It's in his eyes mostly, a strange and unknown hunger, like an animal gone wild. And it ignites something in you, shoots pleasure straight down your loins and has your breath hitching.

No one, no one has ever looked at you like that, like he is close to dashing over the desk and swallowing you whole, eating you up and ripping you apart with razor-sharp teeth.

Your blouse follows next, as you pop open the first few buttons, pulling the thin fabric out of your short tweed skirt. It flows to the ground shortly after, leaves you in your bra, skirt, and heels. Tangerine does not give you as much as a few seconds to accommodate to being partially exposed to him, his eyes gleaming dangerously.

"Skirt's next, darlin'."

You inhale audibly through your lips and Tangerine chuckles quietly at that as you unhook the clasp on your skirt, slooowly pulling down the zipper at the side. You feel ridiculous, like a very bad caricature of a housewife stripping for her husband. It's nothing like you imagined it to be, fingers buried deep inside of you, imagining your husband to be someone else, someone prettier, someone who valued you - someone who you'd love to get dirty for. You don't feel sexy or tempting - but to him you certainly do look the part, the way your body quivers and shakes, all shy by avoiding his gaze.

The expensive tweed falls to the floor and you step out of the fabric of your clothing, pooling around your feet. You gulp, carefully looking up at him. You wonder if he likes what he sees, if it's enough for him to spare your life, to --

Tangerine's heart skips a beat, a sharp noise erupting in his ears. The lingerie you are wearing, a stunning pale-pink lace set, hugs your curves nicely and leaves nothing to the imagination - with the way your nipples poke through the bra, the string cupping your cunt, dipping a little into the cleft of your folds.

He can also see the damp patch on your lacey string and it makes his dick rock-hard, pressing against his slacks. He lifts an eyebrow, as he looks at you. "Who would've thought", and you blush, swallowing, "He married a common whore."

The humiliation burns on your cheeks, turns them red and your mouth goes dry, but there's also fresh wetness pooling between your legs at his words. Oh, you are fucked.

He reads you like an opened book, watches you shifting uncomfortably. "Say it", he whispers softly.

You swallow, licking your lips, before replying quietly: "I am a common whore - Daddy."

"That you are, darlin', aren't ya", Tangerine grins, "Get that bra off, show me what ya got."

You reach back and unclasp the soft lace, pulling the strings over your shoulders and down your arms, carelessly throwing the fabric to the side. Tangerine tilts his head a little, his eyes assessing your tits. He seems satisfied, waves his revolver at you.

"Touch yourself, I wanna see those pretty tits movin'", swallowing, your hands come up, damp with cold sweat and cup your tits, bouncing and squeezing them a little, pressing them together. You do not dare looking at him, gaze focussed on the desk instead, hands brushing over your breasts.

You just started rolling your left nipple between your index finger and thumb, gasping quietly, the slight pain and pleasure running straight between your legs as he suddenly moves. You flinch, arms immediately clutching around your exposed chest while he gets up, deliberately strolls over to you.

Maybe he is not satisfied, he surely isn't, it must've been too little, not enough he's gonna kill you, kill you, kill you --

"Such perfect fuckin' tits", he weighs his revolver in his hands, the metal of it clinking against his rings, and closes in on you. "Have ya been touched often?", the barrel of the gun hooks underneath your chin and your lift your head with it obediently, looking up at him. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, your eyes big and teary again. You don't think he's one to slip on the trigger but it still has anxiety crawling up your spine - don't kill me, don't kill me, don't kill me --

"Answer me, ya stupid twat."

You just wish he would take that fucking gun away from your face.

"N-no", you answer truthfully. The last time you had sex was literal ages ago, in your time at Harvard. Since your parents had married you off you haven't been touched by another fucking human being, assured so by the constant observation of your husband's men. He was allowed to cheat, but God forbid you had some fun. So, you had retreated to fucking yourself, lacking any physical contact, making every single time you masturbated feel shallow and incomplete. Tangerine watches the way your face changes as you reminisce.

"Oh, ya poor thing", he coos, his hand coming up to cup your cheek and you look up at him, "Bet that felt horrible, didn't it?"

And you nod, his thumb caressing your cheek and you get a first good look at him. He is really pretty. The blood looks good on him, bright red in a glooming contrast to his blue eyes. Your head swims with it a little. "How did that make ya feel, eh?"

"Lonely", you croak, before you can stop yourself, a few tears running down your cheeks, pooling between his fingers and rings.

He hums in his throat. "Bet it did", something dances across his eyes, "D'ya want someone to take care of ya? D'ya want to stop feeling so bloody lonely all the time?"

The truth behind his words runs you over like a freight train, barely leaves you wondering with how he got that about you so fast, brain erupting in a static noise.

You do. You feel lonely, locked up in a golden cage of money and bodyguards, with no one opening its door to spend some time with the little bird inside.

"Y-yeah", you whisper, blinking away the tears.

"Wanna know something, love?", and you nod, carefully, not to spook him into shooting, "I could be that person. How's that sound, eh? I could keep ya safe -"

Tangerine's hand leaves your cheek and touches your waist instead, a feather-light touch that has goosebumps spreading all over your body.

"I could touch ya -", his hand sprawls over your lower back, "'N keep you happy, get ya lots'n lots of pretty, sparkly things."

Your breath hitches, brain slowly growing mushy because - because, despite the gun underneath your chin, that does sound heavenly. It sounds easy. Painless. Better. A little exciting even.

"C'mon, how's that sound?", he coos, hand running over your back, to your side again, thumb toying with the hem of your string.

"Sounds so good, Daddy", you sigh, images of a new life, a different life flashing by.

"Mh, I know it does. I could take you with me, make ya mine. You'd love that, wouldn't ya?", his fingers dance over your abdomen, dipping lower and between your legs. His thumb presses down on the damp patch, rubs over your clit, his bracelet rustling.

And it is like your brain has completely given up, surrendering yourself to this very handsome man. But you just can't since - "I-I am married", you croak, a little helplessly, like you don't quite know what to make out of that either.

He does, anger flickering behind his eyes like someone pulled a lighter out and ignited his gaze.

Tangerine growls, the barrel of his revolver pressing against your temple roughly, thumb rubbing smaller circles over your clit through your dampened string, "You belong to me now, d'ya understand? There's nothing he can do about it, y'hear me?"

"Y-yes Daddy, I do", you whine, eyelids fluttering and small tears running down your cheeks.

"Oh, stop fuckin' crying - I can feel how wet ya little cunt's gotten, fuckin' slut", and you blink up at him, a small gasp escaping your mouth as your gazes meet through teary eyes.

You just look so fucking hot to him. Adrenaline from his kill still pumps through his veins and it makes him so so mad, his ears ringing. He feels like he is about to fucking burst and your tears only spurr him on, making something in his stomach growl, stretching its claws out.

Tangerine is too far gone already, everything tinted red red red and he just wants to lash at you, bury his teeth in your throat and end your life like that, bury his dick deep inside of you and feel you twitch around him while blood spurts from your open wound, flows from your mouth. He wants.

But you are also so very very pretty to him, tears running down your cheeks, lips plush and quivering a little and nipples hard like glass, testing his patience with the way they poke out at him.

"Or actually, don't", his lips curl up into a cold smile, "I like to see you cry, hm? Y'real pretty like this."

And you sob heavily, his words making your head swim. Pretty pretty pretty - when was the last time someone called you pretty?

"Oh, darlin'", Tangerine whispers, gun grazing your temple, thumb rubbing small and hard circles on your clit, "Don't be hurt by Daddy, hm? I don't mean to hurt ya, now do I?"

"N-no", you shake your head a little, "Di-didn't hurt m-me."

"Mhm, you are such a good girl, aren't ya? Never hurt by your new Daddy, eh?"

You shake your head again but this time, his face grows stern. "Ah ah ah, words, love. Use your words."

"N-no, y-you could never hurt me."

"Yeah, I couldn't, how could I? I can say anything to you, call you whatever I like and you would never be hurt, would ya?"

And you do not want him to be angry, do not want him to think that he could hurt you - so that he doesn't accidentally slip and does just that - and you notice that fresh tears stream down your cheeks.

"I-I wouldn't, no", you blink away the tears and Tangerine smiles at you.

"That's right. I can call you whatever I like", his thumb speeds up and you moan sweetly, "What d'ya think? Doesn't slut fit you well?"

He says it with such adoration that you cannot help but sigh, nodding. "Y-yeah, it does", you reply quietly, ready to wear it with pride.

"Alright then, slut - take that sorry excuse of a panty off."

You follow his command, shaking fingers hooking underneath the hem of your string, pulling it down slowly.

"Faster, you dumb fuckin' slut."

"Uh-huh", you mumble, nodding, and hastily shoving your string down your legs until it falls down and pools at your feet - a pretty pink on a bright fur carpet. Now, with being fully naked, you feel incredibly vulnerable.

You still wonder if he really won't hurt you. You decide that if you stick by rules, he most likely won't.

Tangerine slowly walks around you, like a predator surrounding its prey, then comes to a halt behind you. The barrel of his revolver presses against the nape of your neck and then glides over your body - down down down - cold metal against warm skin, and then he reaches around your waist. The gun grazes your abdomen and slips between your legs, barrel running cooly through your folds. And you can't hold back the moan crawling up your throat, parting your lips, has you inhaling sharply.

"Yeah, that's more like it, innit?", he rubs the cold metal along your folds, "I can fuckin' smell how wet your cunt is."

And you can hear it, too - the way your pussy squelches obscenely around the barrel, wetness dripping down your thighs. Your knees buckle as the metal rubs along your clit, has you moaning shyly.

Tangerine wraps one arm around you, holds you upright with your back pressed flush against his chest and your heartbeat starts to pick up as you feel his hard dick pressing against your ass, hotly through his slacks.

"Lift your leg, love", he whispers, moustache brushing over the shell of your ear and you comply like you are a fucking robot, and his large hand wraps around the back of your knee, holds your leg up. You mewl as the gun wanders further, barrel brushing against your hole and then dips in with barely any effort, so so slick by your juices and your breath hitches, whole body trembling as the cold metal enters you.

"O-oh", you gasp dumbly, your body sacking back against him. The barrel isn't too big, barely larger than a finger, and rather short but it still feels - good? Tangerine starts to fuck you with it slowly, moves the gun in and out of you and your head swims with the thought, that he could just pull the trigger and blow your lights out, could leave you here bleeding to death.

Your legs start to shake, anxiety and lust mingling dangerously, and in a desperate attempt for any leverage your hand shoots up, reaches back and finds the back of his neck, clutches onto it, fists the pristine white banker's collar of his shirt.

"Yeah, that feels fuckin' good, dunnit?"

"Uh-huh", you breathe, the cold metal pumping in and out of you has lust pooling your stomach and you look down to where his tattooed arm wraps around your waist, where the black sparrow and the golden bracelet vanish along your pussy - watching the way you can see the grip and trigger moving against your folds.

You should be scared, afraid of him and afraid of the gun fucking into you - but you just aren't. Lust washes over your brain, makes everything go just a little hazy, wraps you in cotton candy - hot and syrupy, sweet.

"My god - shit", you breathe, your cunt aching to be touched and you wish for the barrel to just be a bit longer, able to fuck you properly, reach the parts only his cock could - the one that's pressing against your ass hotly, pulsing through his slacks. Instead, you roll your hips once, best you can with his iron grip on your thigh, meeting the thrusts of his gun.

It has you whining, the way the cold metal presses against your hot and slick skin, throwing your head back, resting on his shoulder. Tangerine moves in, like a hungry animal, lips and stache brushing over your exposed shoulder, tickling the naked skin while his eyes wander down your body - taking in your desperate thrusts, bouncing tits and hard nipples. You are fucking hot, maybe the hottest thing he has seen in a while, hotter than the tarts he fucks sometimes.

You seem clean - innocent and virginal and it nearly makes him bust a nut thinking about you: on all fours crawling towards him, sucking his cock until your throat bruises and you are a crying mess, tied to the bedposts taking him like a good fucking personal sex doll would. He groans against your skin, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your leg.

The sound has you vibrating. It leaves you wanting, wanting to feel more, to feel full; to hear more of him, more of where that came from. You can't hold yourself back. "D-daddy", you moan, the feeling of his hard dick pressing against you and the warmth that his firm chest radiates leaving you a little dizzy, "N-need your cock."

Tangerine chuckles against your shoulders. "Oh, now you're wantin' something, eh? What about me, love? What about our little deal?"

"'S for y-you, too", you whine helplessly.

"Oh no no no", he sounds genuinely amused, presses the gun snugly against your aching cunt and your legs tremble, "Don't ya try to get me all soft 'n shit, hm? You'll lose, love, you'll lose."

His tongue darts out, licks a fat stripe over your neck, testing your sweat mingling with your expensive perfume. It takes all his willpower not bury his teeth into your soft flesh until he draws blood and life fades from your eyes.

"N-need m-more", you gasp, hole clenching around the short barrel, cunt needy and aching and squirting against his fingers and the gun in anticipation.

"Well, then -- Why don't ya show me how you got yourself off all those years, hm? Show me how to work that sweet cunt of yours", his lips brush over the nape of your neck and your knees buckle at the soft touch, "Show Daddy how to do it."

Tangerine pulls the gun out of you and you gasp, eyelids fluttering, hole clenching around nothing at the loss, wanting the friction back and he slowly puts your leg back down. His hand brushes up your thigh and waist, rests on your shoulder, presses down a little. And you turn to puddy in his hands, knees giving in and you sink down, landing on your knees with a soft thud.

The fur feels soft around your knees and you lay your head back obediently, looking up at him through hazy eyes. You can see him swallowing, licking his lips. His revolver drips with your juices.

His hand grabs your chin, slight pressure on your throat and then he moves in, rubs his crotch over the back of your head. You can feel his hard, big dick against your skull and you can't help your mind from wandering there, wondering how might he taste.

"Feel that? That's what ya fuckin' slutty behaviour does t'Daddy", he bows down, grins at you and then, without warning, spits.

You flinch as his saliva hits your face, lands across your forehead and you cheeks. His thumb spreads it out, rubs it into your skin and you moan, humiliation pooling in your stomach and shooting down between your legs.

Tangerine chuckles, straightens back up and the hand leaves your face, your throat. "Spread ya legs, I wanna see what's gonna be mine."

You comply, sitting down on your ass and planting your feet in front of you, heels digging into the soft fur. He strolls around you, makes is way back to the desk.

"'N you fuckin' whore better put on a fuckin' good show for me, too", he growls, "It's what ya want, innit? Be a good girl f'me?"

It kind of is. The part of your brain that just doesn't want to die is oddly silent. There is something else, something that buries its claws deep deep in your mind and tears and tears and tears until everything is a little mushy and your brain complies - good girl good girl good girl.

Tangerine leans against the table, crosses his feet and places his hands on the edges, gun dangling from his slender fingers. "C'mon love, ya better don't wanna keep me waiting."

You look down at yourself and a surprised gasp leaves you mouth - you are incredibly wet, thighs sticky with your own juices. You run your fingers through your folds in awe, feeling your own slick, and you moan as you brush by your clit. You need more, body and cunt aching for it and your index finger starts to rub over your clit.

Squelching sounds erupt between your legs and you mewl at the sensation, your cunt so responsive, hole fluttering and your free hand darts out, grabs the fur beneath you.

"Such a pretty fuckin' cunt ya got", and your gaze darts up at him, stomach doing a funny little flip as your eyes meet his, breath hitching in your throat.

Tangerine licks his lips, gestures with his gun. "Rub faster, I wanna hear more of ya sweet moans, slut."

You comply immediately, rubbing your clit faster and you do moan for him, gasping with the pleasure shooting through your body, igniting your nerves. You throw your head back, not waiting for his next instruction, adding a second finger, rubbing large and quick circles around your clit, hips bucking and rolling against them, heightening the sensation.

Arching your back you moan and gasp, lust swallowing you whole and taking over your brain - eradicating anything and everything despite the need to feel more more more.

"C'mon, I know you wan'it, push one in and finger yourself", and your other hand flies to your wanton pussy; index finger briefly, impatiently circling your hole before eagerly dipping in, burying itself deep in one quick thrust. You hiss, quickly exchanged by a sweet gasp as you bottom your finger out.

You start to move it in and out of you, rubbing it along your walls and you can't help but sink onto your back, mewling as it enters you deeper, slips back in more easily. You feel so so dirty, naked in nothing but your jewellery and heels with his spit across your face, but you have never felt better either.

"O-one more, please", you beg, "Please, let me have one more."

Don't you just beg so prettily? He wonders if you will beg like that when he will shove a plug up your ass and fuck your throat, stuffing your cunt with a vibrator. He wonders if you will ask for another one to fuck your ass.

Oh, he will ruin you alright. "Since you ask so nicely", he coos, "Go ahead, slut. Whatever ya need."

Pushing a second finger in, the circles you rub on your clit become smaller and faster. You moan in rhythm with your fingers thrusting into you, curling them a little. Your legs go a little limp, knees darting away from each other, giving him an even better view of your assault on your pussy, the way your slick spreads up to your thighs. Your cunt gushes around your fingers as you force them in deeper, squirts against your hand.

Tangerine watches you coming apart smugly, weighs his revolver in his hands. Who would've thought a simple gun was enough to get you to buckle, give in and surrender yourself to him?

You are his now, he will never let you got. He will keep you and train you and make you needy and dumb for no one else but him.

The thought nearly makes his chest burst with the power trip it sends him on, and he spreads his legs a little, feels his hard cock pressing against his slacks. He can't fucking wait to get in that sweet sweet cunt of yours - show you how a real man fucks his wife, fucks what belongs to him. Tangerine can see, even from where he is standing, that you are fucking tight - the way your hole stretches around your delicate fingers has him licking his lips.

He can't fucking wait to claim you.

"Yeah, I can see he never fucked you properly", Tangerine rasps, shakes his head in silent disapproval as you mewl, arching your back, "I'd take care of you, y'know? Y'want that, don't ya?"

You nod nod nod, moaning as your fingers brush over your walls, stretching you out as you scissor yourself open - thinking about how good his huge fucking dick would feel inside of you instead - your hole fluttering around your digits.

"Bet ya do, lil' slut. Daddy's gonna take real good care of ya, ya'd never ever have to think again. Jus' lemme do the thinking."

"Shit, please, yes", you moan, rocking down on your fingers, pushing a third one in. You are so so full, juices squelching around your hole and wetting your hand and the fur underneath you but it's not enough. You start to pump the in and out of you quicker, deep thrusts hitting the spot inside of you just right.

"Yeah, I'd tell you exactly what to do", Tangerine hums, "I'd be coming home and tell my little slut to bend over the fuckin' kitchen table, stuff her tight 'n needy holes, 'n what would she say?"

"I-I'd thank y-you", you nearly cry out, your whole body feeling light and shuddering at the thought.

"Mhm, atta girl - and if I put ya pretty throat on a leash? Drag ya through the house and stuff ya full of toys? What would ya say to Daddy?"

"T-thank you, Daddy", you huff, chest heaving with your rapidly approaching orgasm, legs tensing up and toes curling.

"And what would ya say when I let ya cum, slut?"

"Thank you!", you sob, the two fingers on your clit rubbing mercilessly, your other hand fucking you hard and fast.

"That's a good girl. Lemme hear it then, cum you fuckin' whore."

Your orgasm hits you like a fucking train, your cunt pushing your fingers out as you convulse around them - a high pitched chant Thank you thank you thank you falling from your lips. Your arms fall to the side uselessly as you ride your orgasm out, wave after wave of warm squirt wetting the fur, as you moan and roll your hips, leaving you breathless.

Your eyes flutter open as you hear footsteps, see him approaching. He is still holding his revolver, the outline of where his large cock is pressing angrily against his expensive trousers.

"Too sad your husband couldn't just see that, eh?", there is genuine joy marking Tangerine's features, making his bright eyes gleam.

Oh shit - that reminds you of something.

"W-where is he?", you croak, legs still shaking with your recent orgasm, body sinking into the fur.

"Oh, love", he seems to smile at you, but his eyes don't join in on his lips tilting up, "He's right 'ere, ain't he?"

He points his revolver away from you, to the side and your eyes warily follow the movement. There is nothing there except the locked closet and --

And a dark pool of something on the ground, a trail of it slooowly creeping your way over the polished floor boards. It looks like-

You stretch your arm out, fingers darting out and the index finger dipping into the liquid. It's still warm and sticky.

And red. It does not take a genius to get what it is.

Tangerine licks his lips as he watches you, how realization creeps in, changes your facial expression. You look horrified and his dick twitches at the sight.

He closes in on you, bows down over your exposed body and grabs your hand roughly, pulls it in. "Would'ya mind cleaning that up f'me, love?", and your eyelids flutter and you do, like you are on autopilot, licking your dead husband's blood from your finger.

"Mhm", Tangerine hums and you gag a little around the metallic taste, which makes his face light up. He pulls his finger from your mouth, unbuckles his belt instead. "I think, I really might just keep ya."

"Y-you said you'd let me go", you gasp as his hand dips between your legs.

"Well, love - change of plans, innit?"

[abilouwrites]

BIRDS OF A FEATHER

I. Midoriya

I’ve loved him my entire life, from the day we met to the day I die I’ll love him. I loved him even when he confessed he was quirkless. I loved him when we both somehow became hero’s. When he confided that he’d taken All Mights’s quirk. That he would become the last user of it.

I believe he loved me, loved me when I went to his dorm door at two in the morning. Crying through the nightmares, he’d hold me in his arms and rock me back and forth until he felt me relax in his arms. Collapsing into him, “are they back?” He references the nightmares I’ve been plagued with. The ones that keep me from sleep. The ones that make me shoot up and pace.

A feeble nod is all he needs before we lay next to each other. Holding hands as we talk about life. Where we want to intern or work for. Who we want to be.

Im not surprised I ended up here. Laying in his arms. Back against his legs as he holds my hands. Applying pressure against my wounds. Careful at every hiss and wheeze I emit from my cracked and split lips. Looking at the metal rod sticking through my stomach. His eyes are wide, tears messily stick to his cheek and eyelashes. Soft hiccups make me wince as I cry too.

“Just hold on. Just stay with me” he pleads silently as I look up at him, “we have so much to do. So much to live for” he cries out. Hunching over me. Wiping wet tears from my cheeks, “comon.. don’t you wanna work with me one day?”

I smile weakly at him, my body hurts. Pain hasn’t ever felt so raw before. Nothings hurt like this, nothings hurt like being fucking stabbed by a metal pipe. I cough a little as he shakes my head, “comon.. comonnn. Remember what you said when we were little? ‘Birds of a feather? We’re sticking together? No matter what?’ Something like that?” He’s a little frantic trying to remember what I used to talk about.

“Do you love me?” The question spurs, hiding in the back of my mind until it sprouts to my lips. I watch his eyes soften. Green hues that look back into mine. He smiles weakly and my heart lurches.

“Of course I do. How could I not love you?” He says that like it would be stupid of me to think he didn’t, “you’re the love of my life. You have to stay alive for me. Because I want to marry you one day. And grow old with you” he starts talking but I can’t hear him anymore.

All I see is a mouth moving but I can’t hear anything. Just a faint ringing. Like a ping pong ball bouncing off my earlobes. I don’t know what dying feels like. I’ve been surrounded by death my entire life and somehow I don’t know what it feels like.

Maybe it’s different for everyone, “I’m sorry” I apologize, I don’t know if he can hear me. If anyone can. But I feel him. I feel him shift underneath me to support my body, to tug me more into his arms as he rocks me. Slow and gentle. I creep a hand up to his face, feeling at the freckles on his face as light creeps from my eyes.

I’m glad that when I am dying, it’s his face I see. The one I love to look at. The one I’d be happy waking up to in the mornings. Surrounded by our kids. By happiness.

I didn’t want to die like this, but at least im dying in his arms.

I muse a weak smile as he bends down. A soft kiss on my lips as the world leaves me. At least I kept true to my words. I loved him till the day I died.

[spacebarbarianweird]

When Old Scars Hurt

Synopsis: It's been two years and relationships between Astarion and Tiriel are being rocky.

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Tags: fluff, conversation about relationships.

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

His back hurts and burns. Astarion is so sure his scars are open, he lets out a muffled cry.

No, it can't be. It's not real.

Scars can't bleed.

But why does it hurt so much?

Astarion sits on the floor and presses his knees against his chest trying to calm himself down. But no mental exercises help him.

The pain is only getting worse.

There is a disgusting autumn outside. The winds howl promising misery and despair and, to the less fortunate, death in the cold winter. It’s dark, but he doesn’t want to go out. 

Astarion needs to feel warm hands on his back.

He gets up and enters the room they’ve rented with Tiriel. She is fast asleep in her bed, face pressed against the pillow. Astarion can see the upper half of her back and he can count all her freckles in the pitch-black room.

His beloved.

His partner.

His love.

His friend.

His Tiriel.

He shouldn't wake her up. Half-elves don't inherit the sleepless nature of their elven ancestors and have to spend a third of their lives in slumber.

So Astarion just sits there listening to her heartbeat and breathing. For two years, it has been his favorite sound. Just a quiet thump-thump-thump which has become the synonym of comfort and safety to him.

She offers him warmth. She offers him blood. She offers him herself.

Astarion shivers.

And he hurts her in return.

A quarrel. Those nasty words Astarion wishes he never said. Pain in Tiriel's eyes as if he had punched her. Silence. She left for the room they'd rented and fell asleep, tired and exhausted. And he stayed outside with his own thoughts and anger.

Idiot, she will abandon you. She will leave you all alone because she has her mortality and you don't.

Some parts of him wanted to apologize, to crawl back, to beg for forgiveness. Old habits refused to die out.

So he didn't. He let her go away to sleep while he stayed with his bitterness. 

What if Tiriel doesn't want him anymore? What if she wakes up, looks straight into his eyes, and says "It's over, I can't keep up with your meltdowns anymore. I don't have your immortality and can't spend my years on you. Goodbye."

He can picture her stern face. The coldness in her eyes. 

Astarion shakes his head. The rational part of him is sure Tiriel won't break up with him over his occasional rudeness. She knows him. She knows that sometimes it's stronger than him.

Suddenly, he realizes she isn't asleep anymore.

Tiriel moves a bit, inviting him to join her. His undead heart would skip a bit if he were alive.

He gets under the blanket and the warmth preserved by the thick layer of fabric makes him feel like a kitten cradled in its mother's arms.

"Tiriel, can I ask you something?" he whispers.

Tiriel sighs.

"Yes, I still love you. No, I don’t want to break up with you. Yes, you made the right choice not to ascend. No, I am not angry with you. It was rude but you weren’t in the mood for touching – I should have realized it."

The grip of darkness lets him go. He is still sorry for yelling at her – she just touched his bite mark at the wrong moment – but the guilt is slowly fading away.

"Thank you."

She smiles and places her hands over his scars and the pain lets his body go.

"Was it a nightmare?" Tiriel asks.

"No... Just a hallucination."

"It's all right, it's in the past." Her fingertips draw invisible pictures on his shoulders.

"Two hundred years," he mutters. "Two fucking hundred years. No one has any idea how long it truly is."

Tiriel doesn't say anything. At first, when they just got together, Asatrion tried to busy himself in these moments, he always tried to talk to make sure the silence didn't deafen him, but the more years passed, the more he learned to enjoy the silence.

Silence isn't dangerous.

Silence isn't scary.

It doesn't automatically bring horrors.

“Tiriel?”

“Hm?”

“You really aren't angry, are you? Tell me the truth.”

Tiriel elbows up a bit and forces him to lie on her right side.

“Astarion. Love. You hurt me. It was a mean to say. I know why you act like that sometimes. That’s all. I didn’t expect you to be that angry when I touched your neck, that’s true.” 

“I am sorry.” 

She caresses his jawline forcing him to close his eyes like a content cat. 

“Do you think you will want to stay with me, Tiriel? Year later, ten years later. Let's be honest, you aren’t immortal like me. What if I am a waste of time?”

“You aren't.”

“You don't know that. Tiriel, I am much older than you and, although my life has been all fear and misery, it doesn't mean I didn't live it. You are thirty-eight. You have a century and a half of life ahead. You were raised by humans, and you think that you have all eternity. You don't.”

Tiriel sits up. “So what? Do you want me to leave you?”

“Tiriel, I want you to be happy, you deserve to be happy.”

“And I am! Astarion I was on my own my whole life and no one cared for me! No one loved me! You were the first one! You don't believe in gods and destiny but I do believe we were made for each other. Stop. I am happy with you. And I can tolerate the downsides that come along. 

“I will make you miserable. My hands are cold, I can’t warm you unless I drink a profane amount of blood. I draw your blood, making you weak and dizzy.”

She lies back and tugs him as close as she can, intertwining her body with his. Astarion suddenly realizes that she is almost as strong as him and, should he want to break the embrace, he will have to make an effort.

“What if you want a child? A family? I can’t give you that.”

Tiriel looks up at him. “Honestly, Astarion, you claim to know mortals so well but fail to understand that being pregnant with an unwanted child from an unloved man is the ultimate nightmare for a woman. If I ever want to get pregnant, I want it to be yours.”

Astarion grabs her arms if she is about to disappear. 

“That's it. We aren't going anywhere from each other. I don't want anyone else. You probably don’t either. You are my Astarion. My friend, my heart, and my husband. I don’t need and want anyone else. No matter how warm their hands are.”

Astarion looks into her eyes. She means it, he realizes. She truly, honestly means it. Even now, two years later, when their relationship is rocky.

And she considers him her husband. 

He kisses her forehead. 

“I love you, my wife.”

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @queenofthespacesquids @ednaaa-04 @dajeong

[pretty-blkgirl]

Lixie Day

//gn!reader x Felix//

Synopsis: You surprise Felix for his birthday

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

A/N: It’s our Lixie’s birthday (in Korea at least lol). I actually like this a little, it’s super sweet. I love writing cute stories for him lmao

~~~~|~~~~

It was around 2 AM when you crept back into the apartment you shared with Felix. He just came back home after the first leg of the group’s tour, while you had just gotten back from a business trip.

You told him you weren’t going to be back in time for his birthday, which made him incredibly sad. He missed you so much, but because of your jobs, you two rarely saw one another.

He expected you back at least a week from now since that’s when you told him you’d be back.

What he didn’t know was you were given the opportunity to come back home a lot earlier than planned.

You were going to tell him as soon as you got the news, but you wanted to surprise him, so you took the first flight you could back home.

Even though you were beyond tired, you were grateful for the fact that you were arriving on his birthday- super early at that. You two would have the entire day together.

When you landed, you got a ride and basically had them speed all the way to your apartment.

Han’s birthday was the previous day, and the guys had a tradition where they’d celebrate Han’s birthday all the way until midnight, and then they’d sing Happy Birthday to Lix.

You texted Chan when you landed so he’d keep Felix out a little longer.

So when you walked into the apartment, you swiftly showered, put on some pajamas, and then grabbed the gift you had gotten him from your suitcase.

It was a diamond bracelet. You know he hates it when you spend money on him, but you remember him talking about it, so you immediately bought it.

It was truly gorgeous, and you felt jewelry so pretty needed to be worn by someone just as pretty.

After a few minutes of waiting, Felix came home around 2:45. You were sitting on the bed, listening nervously as he said his goodbyes to Chan and closed the door.

You listened to his footsteps before they suddenly stopped.

“Y/N?” He yelled, making you panic a little. You started to wonder how he realized you were home, but before you could guess why, he ran into the room.

Tears immediately started to pool in your eyes when you saw him. He looked so good despite only wearing a green hoodie with black sweatpants. His hair was tied back into a bun, and his freckles were on full display.

“Hi baby,” You smile. He’s still looking at you, a fond smile on his face.

“You’re here? Am I dreaming?” He asks, making you laugh

“I’m here! Surprise!”

You were about to start singing Happy Birthday until he tackled you on the bed. You began to giggle wildly as he lay on top of you.

“Baby! You’re heavy”

He ignored you, starting to kiss all over your face

You let him kiss you for a while before trying to push him off you so you could sit up, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Lix, can we get up?”

“No. Can’t we just lay here?”

You sigh lovingly, “We can, but I wanna give you your gift.”

He lays his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling slightly. You two lay in silence before he gets off you and helps you to sit up.

You take another good look at his face and catch a few tears leaving his eyes.

“Lixie, don’t cry! If you cry, then I’ll cry.”

He pouts and looks away. He desperately tried to hold in his cries, but it didn’t work for long. He missed you so much. He dreamt about you daily. He thought about you 24/7. He was so upset when you said you wouldn’t see him for another week, but for you to surprise him like this- he was beyond ecstatic.

“Sorry, it’s just….you just make me happy.”

You knew you would start crying if you looked at him for too long, so you grabbed his gift and gave it to him.

“You make me happier. I hope you like this.”

Before he opened it, you wiped his tears away. He rolled his eyes playfully but kissed your cheek in appreciation.

“Open it, Lixie”

He did as told. His eyes immediately widened when he saw what was inside.

“Y/n…” He says, making your stomach drop a little. Did he not like it? He didn’t look happy…but he was not sad. Just shocked. Maybe it was a good type of shock. Or not?

Your mind continued to race until he pulled you into a tight hug.

“I love it,” He says, making you relax.

You two stayed in the hug for a long while, mainly because you missed one another. You let go eventually, taking the bracelet out and helping him put it on.

“I remember you talking about how much you liked it. So I got it for you.”

He admires the jewelry, “Thank you, baby. But it’s so expensive.”

“Doesn’t matter. I got it because I wanted to make you happy. I love you.”

He takes his eyes off the bracelet and looks at you, eyes full of nothing but pure love, “I love you more.”

He leans in, giving you a long, sweet kiss.

When you pull away, you say, “Happy birthday Lix.”

[0and0its0doctor0]

Beauty and the beast

David Rossi x Fem! Reader Warnings: Mentions being insecure about weight. Summary: You are feeling very insecure about meeting David's coworkers. He promises you are the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. This was requested by @skievers I am so sorry it took so long. I hope you enjoy it. If not just let me know and I will try to rewrite it! Word count: 484

 “You okay kitten?” A voice called out from the hallway. You looked up as David walked into the bedroom to find you standing in front of the full-length mirror in nothing but your bra and underwear. Your dress was spread out on the loveseat in the corner of the room. You were frowning and the closer that David got he could tell that you had been crying a little bit. “What’s wrong?” he asked, taking your hand lightly in his he brought it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. Your other hand drifted gently across your stomach, and you let out a deep sigh. “I don’t think I should go to the thing with you tonight.” You muttered as you kept your vision on the ground not wanting to look at your reflection in the mirror.

A confused David tilted his head to the side. “Why don’t you want to come?” He questioned and you shrugged your shoulders. “I’ve seen the girls you work with David. They are gorgeous and skinny and smart. I’m a chubby artist. I haven’t accomplished anything in my life. I don’t even know why you like me most of the time. I mean look at me.” You had tears on your cheeks and David frowned. “I am looking at you darling. I am always looking at you.” He kissed your hand again and then started kissing his way up your arm and to your neck where he managed to make you giggle a little because it tickled. He pulled away and held both of your hands in his.

He carefully walked you backwards till you had no option but to fall on your back on the bed. He slid up between your legs and started kissing every freckle, scar, and stretch mark. “You don’t need to look like those girls. I think you are the most beautiful girl that I have ever seen in my life. And as far as accomplishments go you create beautiful art. Not to mention the fact you are the bright light that my dark world needs.” He kissed your stomach one more time before sitting up and pulling you into a sitting position. “Will you please come with me tonight?” He asked and you thought about it for a second but nodded. You changed into the dress you had picked out for the night and stood in front of the mirror again. David came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder. “You look perfect. And you better believe when we get back here tonight, I am going to show you just how perfect I think your body is.” He kissed your neck again and you smiled the first real smile you have had in a few days. “Thank you.” You turned around and kissed him before making your way to the event.