#WOULD I BE MAKING NOISE OR WANTING TO BE UR PER WOULD I BE ABLE TO PROCESS WHAT IS YOU WITH MY RETINAS WOULD I OR WOULD I NOT

[eremiie]

sending armin smut as per your request: write about this with armin with reader teasing blushy boy so much his face would be so flushed and he'd be looking at her from under his pretty lashes w a glare but it means nothing bc hes biting his lip and whimpering for reader to pls speed up ;( she does obv bc who can say no to his pretty boy moans. afterwards when u make him make a mess on his shirt or stomach/chest hes laying back n panting hes huffily pulling u against him w needy hands despite ur suprise grumbling some nonsense abt needing to eat u out to see how you like it.

desperate;

❥ armin x reader | nsfw | 1.5k words

❥ content: edging ish, praise, giving armin a good ass blowjob

❥ a/n: i didn’t get this out b4 9pm but we don’t talk ab it🙄

you had never seen armin so flushed.

you'd never seen him so red, everywhere. his hand flew over to his mouth to hide the soft whimpers that were leaving his parted lips as you stroked him painfully slow.

you were making him sick, the way your hand would twist around his cock in a relaxed manner was making him ache. it wasn't enough— and you knew it wasn't enough yet there you sat beside him, your dominant hand working him while your other one balanced your head on the bed.

you had a small innocent smile on your face as your feet were in the air behind you, swinging back and forth as if this was just another regular activity for you. you sitting beside armin, helping him to his end, but in his eyes you were doing the exact opposite— you were making him a mess.

"_____, please—" his voice croaked from under his muffled hand and you almost wanted to laugh at him, almost wanted to make fun of the tears that were brimming his eyes, of his rudolph nose, the blush spreading from ear to cheeks to ear that matched the color of both his lips and tip of his cock.

"hm?" you teased, stopping your movements in efforts to listen more closely to what exactly he wanted from you, although you knew what he wanted. you always knew what he wanted; after dating armin for so long you practically knew his weak spots, you knew how sensitive he was whenever you got near his length, you knew how he loved when you nibbled on his ear, and you knew how he secretly loved when you decided to take control every once in a while.

but it's funny, the only reason you really had to know all these things was because of how well he knew you.

it wasn't fair that his slender fingers that were currently encasing every moan he wanted to let out knew your body so well. that he knew exactly how to make you twist and turn, how to make you beg him, how to make your hands grip the nearest thing to you in pure euphoria. it simply wasn't fair— so you had to match him, be able to do just the same thing, and when you finally figured just how to do so you felt on top of the world.

you finally felt like the master, and armin felt like putty in your hands.

armin let out a choked cry, his head flying back causing the blonde locks that sat pretty on his forehead to fall to the sides of his head, a couple stray pieces sticking. you weren't sure if it was because he still had his clothes on and he was getting hot, or if it was because you were working him up too much.

his palm slowly dropped from his mouth, simultaneously pulling his lip out from where it was tucked between his teeth as he squeezed his eyes shut, subconsciously rutting into your grip. "god, stop acting like you don't know— you know what i want _____, c'mon you know, i know you do." his eyes fluttered open before he let his eyes flicker to you, tilting his head down.

the small forced smile on his face was prevalent, his eyebrows up turning and he almost looked angelic in such displeasure. "you always do, you know me so well, baby, c'mon, please..." and you almost fell for it— you blinked up at him and only let your eyes meet his for a brief moment before turning away, your attention back on his friend. you felt like if you stared for too long you might've actually gave in to his pathetic pleas.

"i know i do, can't you be patient?" your voice came out condescending, armin letting out a small shaky laugh that warped into a groan when your hand continued to move, closing his eyes and letting the small tears fall from the corner of his eyes before opening them back up and practically glaring at you from under his lashes.

he nodded his head hastily as your hand began to pump him, coming up to his tip and paying him some more attention there. you almost felt bad, watching his lip quiver every time you looked up at him, watching his hips buck up into your hand blatantly. he wanted to cum, he wanted to cum so bad and you were the only person stopping him— how'd he get himself here?

"yes, yes, i'll be patient, i'm patient baby, anything for you..." he spoke louder than he intended a drawled out moan ending his sentence as all he could pay attention to was how close he was. his stomach flipped every time your thumb brushed against his tip and his thigh twitched when you would lean in a little close. your breath would fan over it too, precum leaking out of him.

"good boy." you murmured, his breath hitching as you sped up your pace a little bit. you just wanted to see how he would react, see how bad he really wanted it— because for you his begging wasn't enough.

small spills of the word 'yes' were barely audible, his grip on the sheets tightening, and you could feel him throbbing around you. he just about felt like he was growing bigger in your hand, he needed you to speed up, he needed you to let him come— he was desperate.

all it would take was a couple more fast twists of your hands, for him to spill all over himself; it was that simple, it was all you had to do, it was all he wanted you to do. "i'm good, i'm good," he whispered out hoping that maybe you could do it, help him come.

you felt for him, you remembered every time he had put you in the same position, edging you until you were crying underneath him and jolting at the littlest touch of his dainty fingers against your clit. you knew how it felt, and you felt a tinge of guilt. he was being so good for you, being as patient as possible, no harm in giving him that burst of pleasure right?

you let your thumb slide over his tip, collecting his precum and dragging it down his length before speeding up the motion of your hand around him, pretty moans leaving your pretty boys lips as he used your hand to help him get off. his hips jutted up fast, not caring how dumb he looked. all that mattered to him was that the mental bar in his head was almost filled, he felt how close he was, all the noises leaving his mouth, the tears running down his face, the sweat coating his body— none of that mattered.

none of that mattered when that bar finally filled and the band finally snapped, none of that mattered when he let out a loud cry of your name, and none of that matter when he spilled over the black fabric of his shirt, sweats, and over your hand.

he let out a small sob at the pleasure that washed over his body at the very moment, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and his arms unable to hold him up anymore, head hitting the bed as he fell back. his body convulsed, twitched from underneath you and his hair landed like a halo as it spread around his head while his eyes closed as he tried to recollect himself.

"see? it was worth it, right?" you weren't wrong— being held off for so long essentially made his climax feel so much better, he saw stars when he came, and all at the hands of you.

he nodded his head, knowing his words would be jumbled if he tried to speak. you crawled over to where he laid on all fours, taking his jaw into your hand and pressing a quick peck to his red lips. armin's eyes fluttered open at the gesture and he brought one hand up to your neck to pull you down closer to his face, engaging you in a sensual kiss.

he wanted to feel your lips on his, it was calming after your onslaught, it calmed the pants that left his mouth, and calmed the rise and fall of his chest. your teeth nibbled on his lip before pulling back to let him breathe, his blue eyes glazed over and lips parted.

"your turn." he said lowly, and you brought your eyebrows together in slight confusion.

"huh?"

"your turn, need to make you feel good..."

you let out a small chuckle, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lovers forehead. "let's get you cleaned up, and maybe later tonight baby, you can barely open your eyes."

armin let out another small whine and payed no mind to the cum staining his clothes, letting his arms stretch out to pull you close to him, snuggling his face into your neck.

"armin, shower first!"

#armin x reader smut #armin x reader #armin arlert x reader #attack on titan #armin smut #armin arlert smut #armin aot #armin arlert aot #snk armin

[neitherlightnordark]

tell me about ur fics. tell me what seam misses most about jevil. tell me what jevil misses most about seam. tell me what queen missed most about both of them even though she didnt completely remember them

tali thank you thank you!

probably the saddest thing about the sock and the buskin chapter 5 prototype 7.4 revision 2 is that i won't be able to write swatch announcing a wwe match

i feel like this fic slowly changing tone was a map of how i changed my view of writing fanfic... the way the swatch chapter was narrated was partially because swatch is just like that but also because i figured fic should be a little more pretentious, as a treat. the susie chapter was relief in finding something new to write. and of course ts&tb changed how i wrote fic too it helped and hindered a lot... man i love this stupid wonderful fic

there's still not enough seam and queen in the fic i'm writing about seam and queen. i hope that changes soon (is writing it myself)

it's hard to say what seam missed about jevil because really it's... everything isn't it? seam's a mess :] like in this version of canon i'm spinning up for this seam actually has a chance to talk to jevil again... how's seam supposed to reconcile with that. "would i have found a little more purpose in my life...?" well, you didn't come to him, even after all these years; but he came out, and just happened to come to you. now you get a chance to see. now you get to talk to him, and you slowly realize that yes, this is almost-comfortable, yes, this is almost-content, but not quite. it's always going to be uneasy. jevil will not fix you. something like that?

and of course jevil comes to seam. there's an irrepressible fondness in there that jevil chooses to keep; of course seam didn't choose to come to him, and jevil both doesn't (can't) understand (understand) that and appreciates that. oh, that keep's so stubborn, caught in a web of the cat's own making. indecisiveness! stubbornness! the fool's only companion- and they do say things about birds of a feather, don't they? so jevil scratches out poetry in his head and the two talk and there's more narrative in there than... like... living. but also not. see i'm doing it too they say things about birds of a feather don't they

queen was jevil's before she was seam's, is what i've decided. like, it makes sense; seam was [someone]'s plushie and always out doing adventures, but queen and jevil were at the castle, busy being final boss material and starting a supermarket together and whatnot. they must have thought the other hysterical. queen is very directive focused, jevil's here to have fun; both the chaos-es they create are still based on calculating and order; they like loud noises (thunder, explosion.mp3, whatever queen's mixtape has going on).

and i like to think the two of them are very genre aware, jevil canonically so, and queen was like Okay This Guy Is My Foil? Guess We're Destined To Be Besties 4 Life Then and jevil was like the "queen" seeks to break the mold!! her mold will be broken first, i suspect, uee hee- and what better seat to the nosebleeds than the front row!! and then they accidentally became besties. they mostly use this to torment card castle psychologically

seam, abandoned by the lightners for the final time, comes in upon a dark and stormy night and collapses on the castle's front doorstep. dramatically. like undyne. this doesn't really have anything to do with anything i just think undyne

ANYWAY i have this fic idea in my head where queen (as per the strangely common fic beat of her suggesting her friends take vacations) decides she wants to know jevil's funny stuffed aminmal friend together and then the three escape card castle in the middle of the night upon queen's moon-mantled wings. they collapse somewhere in the scarlet forest and they go to the great door. it's great

the point here is that back then seam didn't know queen well at all. but they were friends!! they were friends through jevil's fondness for them both. i imagine jevil took it hardest and went searching for her, and, well... he found her. an interesting thing that accidentally came out of this is that, as queen grieved a land that wasn't dead, seam and jevil never really let themselves grieve, because they knew she would return

#spoilers #minor ones. i think #personal #this was lovely to answer i'm glad i figured all this out

[sharkboygirlish]

Messy.

ONE-SHOT

Word count: 2793

Disclaimer:  One piece and all it’s characters belong to Eiichiro Oda, I just like to write about them.

Warning: None

Rating: T (i guess?? there’s cursing)

Author’s Note: Whale, this is the first fanfic I’ve posted on the interwebs since high school so please keep that in mind, lol. I do plan to finish it sooner than later so check back in a few days if you want to read the rest, sorry I don’t have it all done right now.  At long last it it FINISHED.

Feel free to tell me what u think! Unless it’s mean, then I ask that u keep those thoughts in ur noggin because I’m just writing these for fun not for grades.

Without further ado, here ya go.

Author’s Note pt 2: So i didn’t end up going the smut route like I originally planned, but I think it worked out better bc this one got nice and Emotional.

Summary: Zoro really shouldn’t agree to be Nami’s drinking partner if he wanted to keep their friendship from getting... Complicated.

__________________________________________

The moon was floating high in the night sky when Nami wandered onto the deck, unable to sleep even after a few hours of sketching. 

She wanted company – specifically, she wanted the company of the crew’s resident alcoholic. It only took a few minutes to find him on the lawn deck with his back against a tree and his eye closed. ‘How typical.’

Nami smiled a small, excited smile as she strode over to him and squatted between his parted legs. An unconscious sigh left her nose as she swept her gaze up and down his face. She caught herself thinking, ‘He really is easy on the eyes isn’t he.’ ....again. 

Who was she kidding? She’d been thinking the same thing every time she looked his way lately. 

Two years ago she’d been able to keep the immature crush she had on him locked tightly away but somehow - it had gotten out and was slowly consuming her entire being. 

Nami hoped he hadn’t noticed how often she invited him to drink with her because she didn’t think she could handle being rejected. So she settled for spending time alone with him whenever and however she could. 

“Hey, moss-head,” the navigator said finally, leaning in to squint at him, “Are you asleep?”

He had literally just settled down for a nice cat nap when the navigator appeared suddenly to interrupt him. ‘Damn. What the hell did she want now?’ 

Instead of answering, Zoro chose to ignore her and pretend like he was deep asleep. ‘Why won’t she go bother someone else?’

Nami started prodding his cheek with one finger to rouse him if he really was sleeping, ”Zorooo wake up, I wanna drink,” she whined and his eyelid opened instantly.

‘Why’s she so damn pretty..’ was the first thought he had when he realized that she was a lot closer than he’d anticipated. 

He mentally chastised himself after, trying to remind his id that Nami had never once indicated that she wanted to be anything other than friends and he should respect that. 

But… There was no harm in looking from time to time was there? And she was pretty. She’d always been... ‘Oh for fuck’s sake, now he sounded like Sanji. He needed to get a grip.’

“Helloooooo,” Nami waved her hand in Zoro’s face until he snapped back to reality and snatched her wrist up, pulling it away. He scowled but it wasn’t deep, and now he was refusing to look her in the eye. “What was that about, huh Zoro?”

“Nothing.” The swordsman replied perhaps a little too quickly to avoid suspicion, “Thought I heard a noise, doesn’t matter – oi, didn’t you want to do something?” 

He couldn’t remember what exactly it was. He’d been so distracted by the way her bangs framed her face and sometimes got caught in her eyelashes—’Damnit! He was doing it again.’

Nami smirked again but didn’t press the subject anymore. She’d do that later once they started drinking. “Weren’t you listening to me? You’re so rude, maybe I should find someone else to share my booze with.”

Was it a good idea to go drink with Nami when he kept catching himself thinking about feelings that he’d been suppressing for the last two years? Probably not…

But he couldn’t just decline an opportunity to get buzzed. ‘And... Maybe he wanted to get buzzed with Nami, specifically.’  

Zoro scoffed, mostly at himself. “Quit playing games, damnit, do you want me to drink with you or not?”

“You’re so stubborn,” The navigator teased with a pleased smile that made his heart beat unevenly, “I could care less if you join me, but you’re not allowed to come unless you say you’ll be nice.”

“Nami. I am older than you, quit treating me like a fucking child or I swear-”

“That’s no way to talk to a lady who’s getting you drunk for free, Roronoa Zoro. If you can’t be nice then I’ll just add the cost of everything you drink to your debt and-”

Zoro didn’t have time to ruminate over the way hearing her say his full name made him shiver because he had to shut her up before she did charge him. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll be... nice.” He hissed through gritted teeth and her answering giggle made his pulse flutter. He had to fight to keep himself from smiling. ‘What the hell was going on with him tonight? Was he sick?’

“Good boy,” she turned and started walking towards the Sunny’s aquarium bar, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure he was coming.

“Don’t push your luck, woman.” Zoro snarled to mask his confusion over the sudden need to touch her that he felt scratching at the back of his head. He really shouldn’t agree to be Nami’s drinking partner if he wanted to keep their friendship from getting... Complicated.

He knew it, but he followed her up the stairs all the same.

                                                       * * *

“Why d’you always want to drink with me anyway, witch?” Skeptical of her intentions, his narrowed eye fixed itself on Nami as she approached him holding two maroon tinted bottles. She offered one to him and he accepted it – but he didn’t let his guard down yet.

Zoro lowered his gaze to check the label out, whistling long and low when he read 23% alcohol per volume. A couple puzzle pieces clicked together in his head ‘Oh, that’s why. Because if she tried to drink this with anyone else they’d pass out after two glasses.’

“Would you believe that I just like hanging out with you?” Though her tone was teasing she was actually being genuine, she had a lot of fun with him whenever they went out.

“No–“ He paused when Nami kicked him in the shin hard enough to make him swear. Reaching down with his free hand he rubbed the sore patch of skin and glared daggers at his crewmate. “What the fuck was that for?!”

“You said you’d be nice, Zoro! So be nice or I’ll charge you a hundred thousand beris for that bottle.” Nami uncorked hers but waited to hand the corkscrew over until he behaved himself. The look he was giving her would probably frighten a small child but she didn’t flinch.

‘This was his choice.’ He reminded himself. Of his own free will he chose to get drunk with Nami instead of napping, and that meant dealing with her bossiness no matter how much he loathed it. ‘Sometimes he just wanted to grab her by the shoulders and make her shut up, there were better things her mouth could be doing anyway-‘

“Why do you keep staring at me like that, do I have a zit or something?”

Zoro sat up so fast that he banged his shoulder on the underside of the countertop. ‘What the hell was that? What the hell was wrong with him?’ He hadn’t even opened the damn bottle and he was already making himself look like an idiot.

“No,” the swordsman grumbled, wracking his brain for a believable excuse, “Just thinking about how I’ll owe you money even after I’m dead if you keep charging me for bullshit.” That made her laugh and Zoro cursed himself for how much he liked hearing it. “Don’t see how it’s funny for me, witch.”

Nami let him take the corkscrew from her, eyes crinkled with amusement while he opened his bottle. “You’ll just have to stay alive until you pay me back in full, I guess!” She trilled before taking a long, heavy drink from hers.

“Yeah?” Zoro snorted before mimicking her and downing about half of the wine in the container. It tasted disgusting, which he’d expected, but that didn’t make the bitter aftertaste any less miserable. His nose wrinkled slightly as he set the bottle down. “I bet even if I did try to pay you off you’d find a way to charge me more.”

“You make me sound so heartless,” the navigator batted her eyelashes innocently, pretending to look hurt, “Why would I ever do such a thing?”

“Hah.” He scoffed before chugging some more wine and failing to keep track of how much he was drinking each time. “Because you want to keep me on a leash since I don’t throw myself at you like that dumbass cook.”

An impish smirk crawled it’s way onto Nami’s face that made him immediately regret what he’d just said. ‘Fuck. Damnit!’

“So…” She began slowly, savoring every second that the swordsman spent avoiding direct eye contact with her, “You admit that you are one of my lap dogs?”

A muscle in his jaw flexed and he stopped drinking for one second to grunt, “That’s not what I said.”

“That’s what I heard!” Chimed Nami as she rose from her seat, stepping over to Zoro and tracing a finger under his jaw while he drained the last few drops of liquid. “I should get you a collar, so people know who to bring you to when you get lost.”

Normally he would have snapped at her for poking fun at his sense, or lack thereof, direction but he wasn’t listening to her. She’d come close enough for him to pick up her scent and maybe it was the alcohol intensifying his feelings, but it was suffocating him in a good way.

He loved the way she smelled. Tangerines from her soaps mixed with salty seawater and traces of sunscreen. A hint of orange blossom, but only when she was close to him like this. 

Zoro inhaled deeply through his nose and, without realizing it, his expression melted into something affectionate and gentle. ‘In two years she’d changed in so many different ways… but she still smelled the same. She still smelled like home.’

                                                        * * *

“What are you thinking about, Zoro?” Her voice void of it’s usual teasing tone, Nami’s curiosity was piqued by his sudden shift in demeanor. He looked soft and peaceful, like he didn’t have anything to worry about. She wanted to know why.

‘Ah, fuck.’ What was he supposed to tell her? That he was thinking about how good she smelled? ‘Yeah right.’ Zoro was quiet for a while, mulling over his words until he came up with an explanation that didn’t sound as creepy – but also wasn’t a lie.

“I guess..” he finally murmured, his gaze shifting to meet hers, “It’s just been a while and… I was thinking about how nice it feels to be back here, with everyone…” a brief pause then he added, “I missed you guys.” ‘Look at him being all gushy and emotional, this wine really was something else.’ Zoro reached to brush his fingertips by her temple, catching a stray lock of hair and tucking it behind her ear, “I missed you.”

When had Zoro ever been this honest with her about the way he felt? Never was the answer, but now he seemed to trust her well enough to know she wouldn’t spill his secrets. Nami took his face in both of her hands, surprising him, and pulled his head down so she could kiss his forehead. “I missed you too, Zoro.”

Something about hearing her say that she’d missed him too broke a dam in his chest that he’d been trying to keep together for two years. Hormoness flooded through his bloodstream quicker than Zoro could even process them and before he knew it he was practically throwing his arms around Nami’s waist and crushing her against his chest.

“Nami—” he pressed his face into her neck to hide the tears that he couldn’t hold back anymore. Sober he might have cared about losing it like this around her but she was here and… ‘He just – needed to hold her.’ Hold her and smell her and feel how real she was because she had almost been taken from him.

‘He’d barely begun to process what he had been through on Thriller Bark when they were attacked in Sabaody. If he tried to think back on it his memories would get hazy and his bones would ache from their very cores. He knew what had happened but it’s like his brain was protecting him from understanding how close to death he’d come. Then – to be torn away from the people he loved with all of his heart? Who he had just nearly killed himself to protect?

It had ripped him apart and rubbed salt into every wound. And it fucking hurt. The same kind of pain he felt when he saw Kuina dead on the floor of their dojo. He was scared, he was furious, he was devastated – all over again but this time it was so much worse. So, so much worse.

That was why he had trained so hard over the last two years. Because he couldn’t bear the grief that came with loving them so deeply – so he got stronger. And stronger. And stronger. No matter the cost to his body, he would become powerful enough to defeat anyone who crossed them. Then… He would never have to feel the agony that he did when he first woke up on Kuraigana Island ever again.

Taking on all of Luffy’s suffering in Thriller Bark had been the most physically painful experience of his entire life – but that was nothing compared to how much it hurt to think that his friends were gone forever, that he hadn’t been able to protect them.

Training made it easy not to think about what had happened -- but now he was home, and they were safe - and he was realizing just how close he’d come to losing all of them. At once. And he could do nothing to stop it.’

Startled by him grabbing her, Nami was prepared to give the pirate a good smack if he was getting handsy but… He started trembling. ‘Was he not feeling well?’ Her mouth opened to form the question then stopped. His breathing hitched while his entire body jerked and she realized…

‘Zoro was crying.’

Roronoa Zoro, who prided himself on his strength, was sobbing wretchedly into her neck. ‘He must have been holding this in since Sabaody.’ Nami’s heart ached for him and his stupid pride that forced him to torture himself instead of letting him cry like he needed to. She’d been expecting him to crash at some point, how couldn’t he? Even someone as strong as Zoro was still a human being.

One of her arms cradled his head while the other wound round his shoulders, her fingers combing gently through his hair. “Oh you sweet, sweet boy…” she spoke in the tone that Bellemere used to use when Nami and Nojiko were frightened by a passing thunderstorm. It always calmed her, maybe it would calm Zoro, too.

‘Quit fucking crying you loser you’re supposed to be a man.’ But he couldn’t, he literally could not stop because he was trying to. “I wasn’t strong enough,” his voice quivered at the edges and he hated it. ‘He was definitely never going to drink this kind of wine again ever. Not if it turned him into a blubbering mess like this every time.’

“Shhh, no. No. Don’t you dare try to blame yourself for what happened. Hey, look at me.” Nami urged his head off her shoulder and cupped his face in both of her palms, “None of us were strong enough, okay? Not even Luffy.” Each tear that fell she tenderly swept away with the pad of her thumb. The corner of her mouth turned up as she assured him, “But we are strong enough now. We can take care of each other. Nothing is ever going to tear us apart again, Zoro.”

‘She was right. Of course, she was right. He needed to have faith in his crewmates and his captain. They could do anything as long as they had each other.’ His breathing slowly evened out as he focused on anchoring himself back to reality. He wasn’t in Sabaody or Kuraigana – he was on the Sunny. In the bar, with Nami who had grown so much since he last saw her. The look in his eye softened like it had before his breakdown.

“You’re staring at me again, Zoro.” The navigator teased, her hands falling to rest on his shoulders. He hadn’t let go of her yet but she didn’t mind, he could hold on to her for as long as he needed.

A ghost of his usual smirk passed across his face. “Sorry, Nami…” Zoro took a little risk by leaning in to press a chaste but lingering kiss to her cheek, then traced a path with the edge of his nose to her ear, murmuring, “Wine makes me a little… Messy.”

#zona #zonami #zoro x nami #zona one-shots #zoro nami fanfiction #zonalove #zoro x nami fanfic

[heauxzenji]

hi honeyyy can i have nsfw a-z alphabet for tsukishima please 👉👈? thank you 💞

I’ve had this in my inbox for like a month I am SORRY.

*deep inhale* TSUKKI FUCKERS RUN IN HERE AND GET Y’ALL JUICE

NSFW Alphabet: Tsukishima Kei

Gn!reader focused

Nsfw under the cut but you knew that...

𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊

I actually feel like he’s not too big on this part. He will 100% do what he needs to make you feel comfortable if he’s been particularly hard on you, but he will do the bare minimum, simply because he’s not the best at being very soft. It’s just not him. I feel like he actually would prefer to be alone and recollect himself rather than cuddle and do pillow talk. That doesn’t mean that he won’t if you need it, he most definitely will because he knows how important it is. Just don’t expect to be babied.

𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙

FINGERS FINGERS FINGERS I WILL NOT STOP SCREAMING ABOUT THEM! They’re long and slender- they always fit perfectly inside or around your neck or in your mouth and just... yes. Yes to his fingers.

For him, it’s all about the eyes. He loves looking at your eyes and the various emotions they convey to him, be it adoration, panic, arousal, devotion… he loves looking directly into your pretty eyes as he takes you.

𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒

In your mouth. I can’t explain why I’m right but I’m right. I don’t think he’s a fan of mess per-se, but from time to time he will want to cum on your face/chest for a lil ✨humiliation✨. I’m also positive he drinks water so when he tells you to swallow it won’t be radioactive or thick like tar. Good job to him for that. (God the bar is on the mf floor)

𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙

You caught him jacking off one time and he actually makes the prettiest noises- he’s usually pretty quiet with you but by himself it’s actually symphonic how desperate he sounds. He doesn’t know you saw him, but now you ONLY think about how his name spilled out of your lips each time you touch yourself too.

𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

Has much more experience in theory than in practice. He’s VERY knowledgeable about topics primarily based on his own research. He can implement just about anything to your liking though, which is the real reason he’s a great fuck. He’s adaptable without sacrificing too much of his own pleasure.

𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

This can go one of two ways imo- If he’s feeling lazy, he’ll sit in a chair and have you ride him. If he’s actually putting in work, he’ll hold one of your legs up/back (never both bc it’d probably kill you) or he’ll flip you into doggy, but he’ll make sure you keep your arch as low as possible, so you’re almost parallel to the mattress.

𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞

Lmfao no.

𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗

He’s very well groomed as well. His hair is darker than his blonde locks, but he prefers keeping it short and neat. Not completely shaven, but trimmed on a schedule tbh. Also never smells like ball sweat.

𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖞

You would think a super sadist like Tsukishima doesn’t do the romantic gestures, but he does little things like making sure you’re stable and secure when he’s holding you up, or giving some VERY light praise when you take him well- you have to put attention or you’ll miss them.

𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋

Tries his best to act like he doesn’t- but he does fairly often. Probably once a week tbh. He makes sure that he’s completely alone tho, because he’s very vulnerable and loud… also aggressive? It’s just a complete 180 from what he’s like with you and he doesn’t want you to know that. But he whines and whimpers the entire time, cumming in his fist and laying there convulsing.

𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐

Sadism is the overall mf flavor. But we knew that. Let’s delve a little deeper:

Impact Play, yes very much. Likes spanking as a punishment, but will also slap you in the face from time to time, especially if you’re not answering him or being loud enough to his liking.

Temperature Play, prefers using heat over cold, so he would definitely be into wax. Also turns on the heat in your room when you’re fucking like it’s hot yoga or some shit.

Degradation/Humiliation, has you make messes on purpose, just so he can tease you about it later. Calls you mean names the entire time- but they’re peppered with the tiniest praises, he will follow pretty with cockslut, and such. Will ALWAYS refer to you as his “messy little bitch” without fail. It’s his go-to. Also a fan of “fucktoy” and “pathetic cocksleeve”

Auralism, specifically likes when your moans are choked out sobs, or when you work your voice so raw that it gets scratchy and hoarse. Likes to hear you in general, and will always ask you for a response. Also talks you through your orgasms with little things like “that’s it” and “keep cumming”

Dacryphilia, oh god he loves to see you cry. That’s the one thing that can make him cum almost immediately.

He also HATES a bratty sub. Needs someone who is very obedient. Likes to be called Sir.

𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Literally ONLY in private. He’s all about control and knows that he can assert that control in every way possible in the bedroom. And even though he gets off on humiliation, it’s only when he’s the one doing it- proving he owns you without the threat of lingering eyes.

Would be the type to totally soundproof a room in your house tho, if you’re picking up why I’m putting down. Has gotten several “home improvement” project ideas from kinktok.

𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

His goal is to break you. No matter how many times he’s done it before, he always wants to see that perfectly fucked out glassy sheen coat your eyes as they’re filled to the brim with tears- and complete devotuon and total submission to him.

𝕹 - 𝕹𝕺!

He is never going to submit to you. It’s just not going to happen. Give it up, deelishis.

𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑

Is not the biggest fan of going down on you, prefers using his fingers/other toys. But he LOVES facefucking you. Especially if he can make you cry with how much his cock is bruising your throat.

𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊

It’s mostly even. Mostly. He definitely will edge as a punishment, snapping his hips into you violently, only to stop completely just when your eyes start to roll back. He definitely likes to maintain control of his own orgasm though so he likes to keep a nice even pace if you’re not being a brat.

𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊

Wont outright fuck you in public but would use remote controlled toys on you. He prefers taking his time with you, building you up super slowly so that he can knock you the fuck down in an instant.

𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐

If you think you can try him, no you can’t. He will shut it down IMMEDIATELY. Again, he’s not one for super public scenes, so he’s good at keeping a poker face whenever you decide to get bold… but you have to be prepared because your punishment is either going to be super harsh or nothing at all- and I honestly can’t tell you which is worse when it comes to him.

𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆

It depends on how he’s feeling. If you’ve been good he’ll get right to the point but if you’ve been disobeying him then be prepared to have your sessions drawn out. He can go on edging you for hours and not feel a single thing. He can still last a relatively long time if he’s actually fucking you as well, a good 45-an hour before he even thinks about cumming. And that’s just thinking about it. He can still go a bit longer after the fact. He won’t cum until you’ve cum at least 2-3 times if he’s being nice.

𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞

He has a few toys that he likes to use as punishment, primarily small vibrators that he can put inside of you to have you coming undone before he even touches you. When he finally does, you're a wet, whining mess and all he has to say is that you’re pathetic for not being able to even wait for him to touch you.

𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗

Hates being teased. Don’t even try or think about trying it. Doesn’t necessarily tease you either, at least not TOO much. Will edge you to hell and back though.

𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊

Doesn’t want to give you the satisfaction of hearing how pretty he truly sounds, so a lot of his moans come out as long sighs and deep grunts that he catches in the back of his throat. And that’s only when he’s close.

He does talk a lot though, and is vocal in that sense- you’ll hear a lot of commands from him. You have to ask him for permission to cum, so there’s a lot of call and response when it comes to your sessions.

𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉

He has this fantasy where he’s essentially his partner’s sex toy master and you’re the toy, He would use remote-control vibrators to make you come throughout the day. You don’t get a say in when you come, it’s just whenever he wants. In front of your boss, on the train, when you're trying to go shopping, whenever. It’s equal parts humiliating and sexy for you both, because you can’t stop orgasming. You’re completely at his mercy.

𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞

He’s a good size, a solid 6.5-7 with a decent girth. More of a shower than a grower and actually has a fairly pretty dick. Fair but even in color, suuuuper pretty and pink at the head.

𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

Even though he’s about exerting complete control, and also the type to never let on that he’s needy, he is. His sex drive is slightly higher than yours... But you’d never know. He’s just that good at 1) covering it up, and 2) flipping the script to always make you seem like cockhungry one... asshole

𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟

No sleeping. Tbh I feel like he’s one of those people who actually gets a burst of energy after. But he’s not sleeping at all. He’s just gonna go back to his headphones or some quiet activities until you wake up.

Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @super-noya @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @makemealive @ukaic @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith

#daisy’s red light district 🚨 #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu headcanon #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu Tsukki #tsukki x reader #tsukki smut #haikyuu x gn!reader #hq x gn!reader #hq headcanon #hq headcanons #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu hc

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 3]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, anal play, panty stuffing, toys that have fake cum, a bit of drunk ‘n dom!seungcheol, masturbation, daddy!kink 😳😏 yall! and we are back! I’m sorry we had to take a pause from last week but hopefully we won’t have anymore issues! 😭😭  this chapter is about 6.5k so strap in for the ride yall! and as always, thank you all soooo much for the support and love on my fics T_T it means so much to me! 💕 I hope yall have a good weekend bbys!! 🍒 

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - ?

dom.cheol has donated $250

angelhan: :( i still cant believe i missed ur morning show…

chwenon: me too, i wouldn’t have stayed up til 6am had i known lol

sleepy_wonu: tbf, i couldve gotten kicked out of lab if i got caught watching… worth it tho

dom.cheol: i was at work but anything for u, baby.

You can’t help but pout at the camera reading the comments; knowing that some of your viewers were working or in class when you had done your surprise show. “Aww, m’sorry… I know it was so out of place for me but… You guys probably get it too, right?” You pause, sliding off of the pillow you were sitting on top of. You’d done a short show tonight; doing a strip tease for the camera before mounting a pillow and grinding against it until you came; fingertips gripping onto the silk as breathy moans spilled from your lips.  

“Y’know? When you wake up and you’re just so needy.”

hoshi_tiger_xx: all the time, baby!

gentleman_josh95: literally me this morning ;(

“Right? See you guys get me!” You giggle. The sound of donations and comments sound off in the background as you zone out for a second.

It had already been a couple days since then and this was your first show back. You and Seungcheol had texted sporadically; a little bit of awkwardness on both ends if you were completely honest. He seemed genuinely shy which was not what you expected at first but you also knew it must’ve been weird for him to suddenly have unrestricted access to you. Seungcheol seemed to be unsure of what he was able to ask you or talk to you about, even though you had assured him that you wanted to get to know him just like regular friends.

In your case, Seungcheol was undeniably hot and seemed to really like you which sent the butterflies in your stomach soaring each and every time your phone pinged.

kitty_junjun: hey can i ask a weird question

You tilt your head, eyes blinking cutely at the camera. “Of course!”

kitty_junjun: do u think you’ll ever have a show with someone else? Like a guest or sth? I know we’ve asked before but i’m just curious since your anniversary is comin up again...

Biting your lip, you watch as the others chime in, asking the same question. In truth, you had considered it maybe once or twice. But that came with risks. Not only would you have to find someone who was okay with being on camera with you, but you also ran the risk of losing viewers if they weren’t happy with who it was or how it turned out.

Seungcheol bites his lip reading the comments; he’d thought about it too.

He thought about if he’d be jealous, which he convinced himself he wouldn’t be. He would.

And whether or not he would pay to be the person to join you on cam and fuck you in front of all your viewers.

He definitely would.

“Mmm… I mean, I definitely thought about it before? But wouldn’t it be weird to see someone else on my shows? And, like, an actual… guy?” You watch the comments fly past, donations getting lost in the flurry of comments saying that you should do it.

universe_WZ: and miss the chance of seeing u getting fucked and put in ur place like a good girl?

universe_WZ: i will pay top dollar

alphagyu97: same

artist8hao: also same

dom.cheol: you already know how much we’d all love to see your cute lil cunt getting filled up with a real cock, sweetheart.

You bite your lip in thought, glancing at the camera with a coy expression. “Hmm, okay! I’ll keep thinking about it… I really want to but it’s gonna take some time to find the right person and make sure they’re okay with being on cam with me too~”

j__min: u should ask me, i cam sometimes too… we should collab ;)

Trying to hide the awkwardness, you laugh it off, tucking a few stray hairs behind your ear. “Oh? A camboy that watches me? That’s interesting~”

There were usually only 13 of your viewers who you considered to be your ‘regulars’ and you knew them all by their usernames. Of course, there were others who seemed to comment here and there and lots of anonymous donations and comments as well. But the newcomer seemed to be very interested in you and you weren’t sure how to take it just yet.

“Hmm~ Okay! I think I’m gonna end the show here! It’s getting kinda late now, huh? I ended up staying and chatting too long again~”

dom.cheol has donated $300

universe_WZ has donated $100

dom.cheol: it’s okay baby we like talking to u :)

sleepy_wonu: agreed

You stick your tongue out, winking at the camera before you say your goodbyes and last few thank you’s.

“I’ll see you guys next time~ Sleep well and dream of me!”

Seungcheol takes a deep breath, rolling his computer chair away from his desk as soon as you go offline. You’d been as cute as you normally were, but this time he felt like your lust filled eyes pierced the screen a little harder than usual.

He reaches for his phone, opening your text window before typing a quick response. ‘Great show tonight, baby. ;)’ Pausing, he wonders if it’s a little too weird to text right after you’d finished a show; but instead hits send. The read receipt shows up immediately after which alerts Seungcheol you already had your text window up when he messaged you.

babygirl 🍒 : i was just about to message u!! hehe, how are u?

Seungcheol bites his lip. Would it be too much to call? He ponders.

‘Hey, is it okay to call? If ur busy, it’s okay. Just figured it’d be quicker than typing.’ He hits send before he can regret it, watching as the read receipt shows up under his message again.

In a few seconds, it’s his phone that rings, your display name at the top as he accepts your call.

“Cheollie!” Seungcheol’s heart threatens to beat out of his chest at your nickname for him, hand clutching the phone tightly as he tries to calm himself down. “Hey, sweetheart. Sorry, you must be tired? I just thought this would’ve been quicker.” He chuckles, standing from his computer chair as he makes his way towards his bed.

“Oh, not at all! I’m just tidying up so I have you on speaker right now~ If that’s okay?”

“Mm, of course, baby.”

Seungcheol takes the time to lay in his bed, a deep sigh escaping him as he relaxes into the sheets. “Everything okay, ‘Cheol?” Your voice is soft and gentle; music to his ears as he stares at the ceiling.

“Yeah! Just… the comments have been weird, huh?” He ends it with an awkward laugh, hoping you knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Oh, are you talking about people asking me to invite someone or the new guy in the comments?” Seungcheol doesn’t know which he wants to talk about first. “I guess both?” He inquires, hoping that it’s not too prying.

You make a humming noise on the other end, deciding which one to address first. “Mm, I mean… I would love to have someone else on the show with me but I don’t know… Don’t you think it’d be weird? I feel like I’ve been doing my show for so long by myself but maybe I should start trying other stuff…” You trail off, leaving it open-ended for Seungcheol’s opinion.

“It’s ultimately up to you, sweetheart. But---But if you do, just promise me you’ll make sure everything with this person checks out, okay? I mean--I just want you to be safe, don’t let it just be some weirdo off the internet.” Seungcheol blushes, words leaving his lips in a hurried mess. Sometimes he hated how overprotective he was of you. “And--and make sure they take a STD test and stuff, y’know?” Your giggles pour out of the phone receiver as Seungcheol hides his face in one of his pillows.

“Is this in reference to the ‘j__min’ person offering their services?” Yes.

“No…” Seungcheol mutters, somehow already knowing that you didn’t believe it.

“‘Cheol~ don’t worry. I’m not gonna get into cahoots with someone I don’t know. And honestly, it kinda weirds me out how he came out of nowhere… Makes me wonder if he was some anonymous viewer or donator this entire time and then decided to have a name.” There’s a pause on your end; Seungcheol hearing the washing machine going off.

“And anyway, if I were to do a cam show with someone else, I think I’d want to know them really well, don’cha think? Like a friend, maybe?”

Seungcheol lets you go to sleep after 15 more minutes of chatting; making sure you down a glass of water and get some food delivered before he lets you go for the night.

He places his phone down onto the nightstand, tugging his shirt off as he stands. But his phone pings not a second later, confusion crossing his features as he picks it up.

‘Hey hyung, don’t forget we’re going to that new diner across town tomorrow after work!!! I’m gettin me some disco fries baby!!!! - ggukie’

Seungcheol ends work 30 minutes later than he should the next day and Jeongguk watches from the concession stand as Seungcheol trudges over, fingertips running through his silvery-blue hair as he sighs.

“Some kid fuckin’ puked in the restroom and nobody wanted to clean it up so guess who did.” He complains, leaning his head onto the cool countertop as Jeongguk pats his head comfortingly. “Not my job but you should’ve called someone else. Where was Yoongi-hyung?”

“Gone, as per usual. We both know he clocks out 30 minutes early.”

The two laugh half-heartedly, making sure they have their things before they leave for the night. The night shift crew had already checked in just a few minutes prior; Taehyung and Hoseok waving them off as they leave.

They hop into Seungcheol’s car; Jeongguk already fiddling with the radio controls as Seungcheol puts in the address for the new diner that had opened up. “I hope this place is good. It seems to get a lot of good reviews for a place that just opened up, like, two weeks ago.” Jeongguk nods, settling into his seat as Seungcheol pulls out of the parking lot.

“We live in a city that’s straight out of an episode of Riverdale. I mean, we work at a roller rink? And there’s diners all over? But we’re in the present day with present day technology? Soon we’ll be Archie and Jughead. Except I want to be Jughead since I have the tattoos so you can be Archie. Or we can both be, like, from the Serpents but I still want to be Jughead.”

Seungcheol raises a brow at Jeongguk’s references.

“I don’t know that show so all of that just went over my head.”

It takes approximately 30 minutes to get across town; the huge neon lights from the diner welcoming them into the parking lot as Seungcheol parks the car somewhere near the entrance.

“God, was it just me or did that take a long time? I’m fuckin’ starving.” Seungcheol mutters; hopping out of the driver’s seat. “I think you’re just hungry, hyung.” Jeongguk offers, jogging up to the other male as they make their way to the doors.

Thankfully, the place seemed relatively empty for a Thursday night, a lone male standing at the front of the diner in a pastel coloured uniform.

“Hey! Welcome to Dynamite, my name’s Jun! Table for two?” Seungcheol nods slowly, eyes narrowing at the male who, for whatever reason, seemed familiar.

Jun picks up two menus, guiding them to a booth in the far corner of the diner. “We’re just a little understaffed tonight so I’ll also be your server tonight! Can I get you guys some water to start?” The two nod as they sit in the multi-coloured booth. “Hey, can I ask you something?” Jun blinks, nodding slowly as Seungcheol peers up at him from where he’s seated.

“I feel like I’ve met you? It’s weird. I’m pretty sure we’ve never met though…?” Seungcheol trails off, confused eyes meeting Jun’s. Jun wracks his brain, unsure, but feeling the same way. “I dunno, I feel the same but I’m pretty sure we never met. Maybe a past life thing?”

Jeongguk laughs, eyes too focused on the menu in front of him. “Oh, that’d be weird as fuck.”

“Anyway, I’ll come back with your water!” Jun walks away, leaving Seungcheol and Jeongguk to go through the menu.

“Hey, Seungcheol-hyung?”

“Mm?”

“I know you said you’re usually busy on the weekends but I’m doing a PUBG stream on Saturday and was wondering if you wanted to hang? I asked Yoongi-hyung too and he’s coming over to drink and hang out.” Seungcheol’s lips press into a firm line, eyes burning holes into the menu in front of him.

Jeongguk was a video game streamer sometimes and his streaming schedule lined up with yours which is why Seungcheol almost never had a chance to watch or be a part of Jeongguk’s. “Um, what time is it at?”

“I’m thinking of streaming from like 6PM to midnight or somethin’. But you don’t have to be there the entire time! Just thought it’d be cool to hang out on the weekends for once.”

Seungcheol nods slowly, glancing up at Jeongguk who’s already staring back at him. “I can probably show up for a bit? I need to leave by 10 though, I, uh, sleep early sometimes.” He knows Jeongguk doesn’t buy it, but a smile paints itself onto the younger male’s face in an instant.

“Cool! Wow, didn’t think you’d say yes actually.”

The older male nods, a tight smile on his lips. Your cam schedule was almost always on time; Fridays, Saturdays, every other Monday, and every other Wednesday at 11PM. Sometimes you’d have surprise shows, like before, but you often kept to your schedule unless something important came up. “I know, I get so busy on the weekends, y’know?”

Jun comes back with their waters, setting them down on the table before fishing out a pad and paper to take their orders. “What are you doing on the weekends anyway? I feel like I’ve never asked directly but you never return my calls on Fridays and Saturdays.” Seungcheol freezes mid-order, hands gripping the laminated menu. “Um, and a cherry coke, please, thank you. And I told you ‘Guk, I… I just like to unwind on the weekends, I like to enjoy my quiet time so--so sometimes I just turn my phone off, y’know?.”

Jeongguk puts his order in with Jun who runs their order back before he walks off again. “Is working at the roller rink that bad? I know it can get wild sometimes but… are you thinking about quitting?”

In truth, Seungcheol had thought about it before when he was first starting out at the roller rink. But he also knew it paid too well for him to leave just yet. “Nah, just… it gets loud, y’know? I end up doing jobs around the place that I’m not qualified to do. And with Namjoon-hyung gone still, we’re shorthanded. I thought about picking up another job for some extra cash, but with what time?” Seungcheol grabs his glass of water, lips puckered around the plastic straw as he takes a sip.

“You should cam!”

Water sprays all over the table as Seungcheol sputters, choking on the liquid. “The---what!?” Jun runs over with a stack of pink tissues, helping to wipe up the water as Jeongguk stares from across the table with a wide grin. He waits until Jun leaves again; eyes fixated on Seungcheol and the crimson blush that coats his cheeks and ears. “It’d be easy money for you. You’re not exactly ugly, and you can cover your face!”

“Why exactly are you suggesting that!? Why’d you go straight for that!?” Seungcheol screams under his breath.

“Let’s be real, it’s crossed my mind so it’s probably crossed yours too. You can always just game too, but if you need cash quick y’know… And hey, I have some extra equipment so…” Jeongguk trails off, wiggling his eyebrows at Seungcheol suggestively.

Seungcheol had actually thought about that too. Maybe once or twice.

But after he’d spoken to you and found out just how difficult it really was to keep your viewers engaged and how difficult it was trying to find new ideas to bring to your cam show, he knew it wasn’t as easy as most people thought it’d be. You always put in extra effort in your cam shows and it was a whole production with effort and ideas. Sometimes it took you days to even come up with a theme for a show and sometimes it didn’t do as well as you’d hoped.

“Um, if I ever do, I’ll let you know ‘Guk.”

Saturday comes sooner than Seungcheol knows and he’s antsy. He could barely even enjoy your cam show from the night prior knowing that he had to haul ass back home after Jeongguk’s stream. He plots out the drive home; times it just perfectly so he still has some spare time to relax before your show starts.

For a second, he wonders if it was the right decision or if he should’ve just stayed home like he normally did. But he quickly shakes the thoughts out of his head; glad to get out of his apartment and spend time with his friends on the weekends for once.

He makes it to Jeongguk’s place on time, a box of beer tucked under his arm when he knocks on the door. Shockingly, it’s Yoongi on the other end who greets him; a lopsided smile on his face as he ushers Seungcheol inside. “‘Guk was setting up so…”

“I brought more beer! He said you were spending the night on his sofa so drink all you want, hyung.” Yoongi nods, plopping back down onto the sofa as Seungcheol makes his way towards Jeongguk’s PC room.

The entire room is lined with LEDs, posters of anime and various video games lining all the spaces between the soundproofing pads that Jeongguk haphazardly attached to the wall.

“Yooo, how’s the setup coming?”

“I’m almost ready!”

It takes 20 more minutes of Jeongguk fiddling before he sits in his expensive gaming chair; Seungcheol close behind as he watches the younger male pull up the loading screen. “You’re not drinking, hyung?”

Seungcheol shakes his head, legs crossed as he leans back in the spare desk chair. “Nah, I drove here. Gotta be responsible, kid.” Jeongguk shakes his head, placing his headset and mic on before starting his stream.

“Hey guys! Welcome back to Golden Closet Gaming! I’m doing a PUBG stream tonight and one of my closest friends is here so if you hear him on the mic, that’s definitely not a ghost this time!” A concerned look crosses Seungcheol’s features but he laughs lightly. “Hey guys, I’m Seung---I’m, uh… I’m---SCOUPS!” He blurts out in a hurry; using his gaming username instead.

“And I’m your main player, JK!”

Watching Jeongguk game so seriously is interesting for Seungcheol. They take a break an hour and a half into Jeongguk’s streaming session to get food and drinks; immediately going back to the PC room right after.

But it makes Seungcheol wonder what it was like on your end to always be alone filming in your bedroom to thousands of people in such an intimate setting. For a second, it makes him sad, wondering if you ever felt lonely after your shows were over. Or if you were so tired and could barely take care of yourself.

I would’ve gladly been the one to take care of you after your shows, he thinks.

“Fuck you too, asshole! Get the fuck out!”

Jeongguk’s screaming brings him out of his sad thoughts; a brow raised as he peers at the screen. How the younger male had the energy to game for so long was beyond him sometimes.

“Uhhh anyway comments are asking what I should stream next week? I dunno, give me some ideas? Not the SIMS again though...” Jeongguk mutters. “Oh, j__min said I should play The Last of Us?”

The name has Seungcheol perking up in an instant, leaning over Jeongguk’s shoulder as his eyes dance over the comments.

j__min: bro u were supposed to stream that like 4 streams ago, wtf 

seokGENIE: its a good game tho, id be interested in seeing how badly u do

j__min: actually yea me too lmao

Seungcheol’s eyes narrow slightly. Surely it couldn’t be? He thinks. The typing style wasn’t the same at all but the username was, which sent Seungcheol’s mind into a frenzy at the possibility.

But unfortunately for Seungcheol, Jeongguk launches into another match which means he had to wait another time to ask about it. He notes it mentally, making sure to get answers as soon as he can.

10PM comes sooner than Seungcheol expects and he lets Jeongguk know when it’s 9:50PM and while they’re in the middle of a break that he needs to go.

“Damn, where did time go? But okay, hyung! Sorry we didn’t really talk and I just gamed the entire time but maybe next time we can actually do something else? Go out for drinks maybe?” He shoots the older male his best puppy eyes until Seungcheol sighs and gives in, nodding as he fishes for his car keys.

“I’ll see you at work, okay?”

Seungcheol waves at Yoongi still glued to the sofa; a tiny wave of his own as he wishes Seungcheol a safe drive home.

He makes it home at exactly 10:32PM, toeing his shoes off before shucking off his jacket and tossing it onto the back of the sofa. He shuffles to the kitchen and grabs a few beers out of the fridge; already downing two entire bottles before he even makes it to his PC.

The buzz feels good when he sits down, taking a swig of his third bottle as he boots up his computer. In the meantime, he checks his phone, scrolling through apps and deleting notifications.

A text pops up at the top of his phone’s screen.

babygirl 🍒 : see u soon :)

Seungcheol smirks; ego inflated knowing that he was the only one getting that text message.

He checks the clock, 10:56PM, and loads up your profile, simultaneously finishing off his third can of beer since he’d gotten home.

For whatever reason, you’re nervous when you finally sit down in front of your camera setup tonight. You adjust your baby pink lace bra that Seungcheol had gotten you; a cherry blush on your cheeks as the giddiness pours over you.

Checking the clock, you notice it’s already 10:59PM, finger hovering over the ‘rec’ button before pressing it.

It takes a second before the comments already start flooding in; the sound of donations and comments flying across the screen in an instant.

“Whoa~ You guys are so eager tonight, huh? Already so many donations! Thank you!” You shift slightly onto your side, biting your lip. “We’re already so close to the minimum donations for me to start… what’s up with you guys?”

tangerine_kwan: I’m so glad to see u, yesterday was not enough

therealchan99: fuckin talk abt it dude, i almost quit my job im stressed i need to see u princess

dom.cheol has donated $500

dom.cheol: fuck, baby i need to see your pretty lil pussy already i’m so fuckin hard

Your eyes go wide with Seungcheol’s massive donation. He usually waited until you were mid-show or towards the end to donate such huge amounts of money and yesterday he seemed relatively quiet during your show. It threw you off slightly, but you just assumed he might’ve just been going through some things at the time. “Seems like you guys had a rough week, huh?”

xcaliburDK: gOD u dont even know, ur literally my stress relief, beautiful

kitty_junjun: yea i just started working at a new place and its… weird, just glad to be off today

Pouting at the camera, you lean in a little closer. “Hmm, guess I should start then, shouldn’t I~? Since you all seem like you need a ‘lil escape~”

gentleman_josh95 has donated $45

sleepy_wonu has donated $70

sleepy_wonu: please put us out of our misery, baby

You can’t help but giggle, sliding the bra straps down your shoulders before you unhook the material and toss it to the other side of the bed. “This cute setup didn’t last very long this time! Should I upload some pics later to my private room?”

alphagyu97: plz

chwenon: yes yes yes lewds plz

“Okay~” You pause, fingertips hooked onto the sides of your panties. “I actually… wanted to try a new toy…” You murmur, shyness taking over as you slowly slide your already wet panties down your thighs. Sitting back down, you slide them off completely before you place them next to you, glancing at the comments as you cross your ankles.

artist8hao: wait was that…

universe_WZ: i think so

hoshi_tiger_xx: plz plz plz let us seeeeee

dom.cheol has donated $200

dom.cheol: spread your legs, sweetheart. Let daddy see.

You clench your teeth at the arousal that pools in your lower abdomen; shaky legs parting towards the camera. Squirming slightly, the plug that you had eased into your ass shifts, making you mewl at the feeling. You’d tried using your fingers in the past, but by far, the toy was the biggest you’d used yet.

“I--I… I bought this toy m-myself ‘cause I wanted to… wa--wanted to… start learning how to t-take cock in my ass too…”

The way you sit on the bed has the toy fully seated inside of you, toes curling against the bed sheets as your hazy eyes flit to the camera. “I dunno how long I’m gonna last, it feels so good~” You moan, grinding against the sheets underneath you.

angelhan has donated $150

angelhan: i’m begging please, panty stuffing

You bite your lip, eyes dancing over to the lace material sitting next to you. “Hmm~ I don’t think I’ve ever done that on my show before… Should I try it?” You ask cutely, flashing the camera a cheeky smile. The donations pour in like rain; the pinging making your stream lag for a second as it tries to keep up.

dom.cheol has donated $400

tangerine_kwan has donated $100

dom.cheol: fuck, sweetheart lets see you get those panties fucking soaked

universe_WZ has donated $200

“Guess we have our answer?” You laugh airily, reading a few of the comments that were basically begging you to.

Spreading your legs as wide as you can, you maneuver yourself against your pillows; grabbing the lacy material. You quickly adjust the camera with a remote, zooming in until it’s focused on your soaking folds. “Ngh, I’m already so fuckin’ wet… this plug is really making me feel so full~”

dom.cheol: i bet your cute lil ass could barely take my fuckin cock huh

“Mmh, is daddy gonna fuck my ass and make me cum nice and hard?”

yes, yes yes, god yes!

Seungcheol could die right now and be happy.

He wraps a hand around his cock, hips shallowly thrusting up into his closed fist as he watches you run your own fingertips through your wet folds before you sink two of them into your tight pussy. His eyes flutter shut, the image of himself fucking your tight ass as you whine and beg for his cum dancing behind his eyelids.

The alcohol in his body has him on edge even quicker; the grip he has on his cock loosening so he doesn’t cum as quickly.

“A-ah… g--guess it’s time to try this…” You whisper, reaching for the lacy panties. You drag the material up your thigh teasingly, swinging it around your wet fingertips before you place it against your entrance.

You take a deep breath, slowly pushing the panties into your pussy.

tangerine_kwan: oh my god oh my god

alphagyu97: fuck thsts so hot fuck

angelhan: spread your legs more, please god

Your lust filled eyes glance towards the comments, shakily spreading your legs as far as they can go. “O-oh god it--it feels suh--so good…” You mewl, pressing the material further and further into your pussy.

“It’s d-different but… but it’s--it’s--mmh!” 

You’re cumming before you know it, toes curling against the sheets as you cum around the toy in your ass and your fingers and panties deep inside your pussy.

Your legs threaten to clamp shut in an instant, which you fight off; the sound of donations and coins clinking flooding your eardrums. “I--fuh--fuck, I--I didn’t know I was gonna c-cum from that!” You let out a breathy laugh, moaning as you continue to push the panties inside of you until the fabric is completely gone from the camera’s view.

chwenon: now will u sell those

hoshi_tiger_xx: please once again i am begging I AM BEGGING

“Aww~ I wish I could… but you guys know my rules~” You pout; body warm and fuzzy after your first, unexpected orgasm. “God, I didn’t… I really didn’t know that’d make me cum so easily~”

dom.cheol: fuck sweetheart, your cute lil cunt cums so fuckin easily

“I know~ I have such a greedy pussy… Always want something filling me up…” You wink at the camera, reaching for a toy that was out of view. “I have another toy~ hehe, tonight is just full of new things, huh?”

You show the toy off to the camera, shifting so that you're on your knees instead. “It looks like a regular dildo right? But it’s full of cum! Not real cum anyway, but cum lube… It’s not the same but it’ll have to do for now~”

therealchan99: oh fuck oh god

sleepy_wonu: aww is the princess gonna let it cum in her cute ass?

artist8hao has donated $75

kitty_junjun has donated $50

dom.cheol: lets see that ass fuckin take all that cock baby

dom.cheol: let it cum in ur pretty lil hole

dom.cheol: fuck

You zoom your camera back out, turning to your side enough so that you could still see your monitor but also still be in frame. “Yeah? Does daddy wanna see how a good girl takes cock in her ass?” Moaning, you reach behind you, fingers on the end of the plug as you slowly pull it out. The stretch makes your back arch slightly; legs trembling when the larger part of the toy finally breaches past the puckered muscle.

The sudden emptiness only makes you reach for the dildo faster, covering it with lube before you place it against your ass. “D’you think I can take it?”

tangerine_kwan: i kno u can baby

sleepy_wonu: yes eys yes

dom.cheol: daddy knows u can, sweetheart

You place the toy at your puckered hole, biting your lip and telling yourself to relax before you slowly start easing it into your ass. “O-oh fuck…” You had made sure the toy was on the smaller size since it was your first time but the stretch of it still had your body tensing up almost immediately.

It takes a long and torturous minute until the toy is fully seated in your ass; body buzzing at the sensation. “G-god it--fuck, it feels even better than the plug~” You whine, maneuvering until you were sitting down on the toy completely.

You let your body adjust to the new feeling for a moment before you’re bouncing on the dildo, loud cries and garbled moans spilling from your lips. The new feeling has you chasing your high insanely fast; tuning out the comments and noises as you focus on your own pleasure.

Your mind can’t help but imagine Seungcheol again; his hands roaming your skin and his deep voice growling filthy praises into your ear as he fucks you from behind. You clench around the toy and the panties still in your pussy, wrecked sobs on your lips at the thought.

Before Seungcheol, you always imagined nameless hands on your body or even resorted to thinking about other videos you’d seen to help get you off. Some days it was harder and some days you were cumming in under five minutes. But now that Seungcheol had a name and face to you, it was impossible for you to imagine anyone else fucking you.

“Shi---it, I--I wanna cum!”

dom.cheol: already? Fuckin greedy lil ass

dom.cheol: cum, sweetheart. Let daddy cum in ur tight ass too

universe_WZ has donated $100

alphagyu97 has donated $75

You alternate from bouncing on the dildo to swiveling your hips; reaching a free hand down to rub circles around your swollen clit. “Already? Can I cum?” You whisper, mind already a puddle of goo now that you were so close.

kitty_junjun: cum

xcaliburDK: cum

chwenon: cum

dom.cheol: you heard them, sweetheart. Cum. Now.

Seungcheol’s grip on his cock tightens after he sends the comment; growls spilling from his lips as he watches you bounce on the toy. His cock throbs in his hold, already feeling himself just as close to his orgasm as you were to yours.

“Fu--fuck I’m cumming! D---daddy!” You cry, slamming yourself down onto the toy as you cum hard. Seungcheol bites his lip to keep in his own screams; streaks of cum landing on his shirt and jeans as he works himself through his own orgasm.

He tries to keep his eyes focused on you in the midst of his orgasm, watching as you squeeze the base of the dildo until the cum inside starts to pour into your ass. “O--oh god!” You mewl, still thrusting the toy into your ass.

Seungcheol’s mouth goes dry when you reach a shaky hand between your legs, fingertips dipping into your pussy and pulling the soaked lace until half of it is in view of the camera. His grip on his cock tightens, moans on his lips when you then slowly start pulling the dildo out of your ass; the fake lube immediately spilling out of your ass and onto the bed sheets and sliding down onto the panties.

universe_WZ: oh my god oh ymg f

xcaliburDK: eyeeeeeee

kitty_junjun: i

You push the fake cum out, soft cries on your lips as the last bits of your orgasm roll through your body. The fake cum feels slightly cold which sends a shiver up your spine as it drips down your legs.

“Mmh… god that---that was intense…” You mumble, upper body slumping against the sheets.

You reach a hand between your legs again, making sure you’re in the camera’s view when you tug on the panties again; this time pulling them all the way out as you groan.

alphagyu97: if ur not selling those can it be a giveaway

alphagyu97: make it a raffle

You toss the soiled fabric to the side, mindful of the puddle of fake cum soaking into the sheets as you readjust your tired self in front of the camera. “You guys really want these, huh?” You laugh, responding to a few other stray comments asking for the soaked material. Your entire body is tingling from all the new sensations, mind going a mile a minute with the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Slumping forward, you thank your viewers again, yawning as you stretch out. “I think I need a bubble bath now~ ‘m so messy!”

hoshi_tiger_xx: we love a messy girl ;)

therealchan99: fuck yea we do

Letting a few more viewers leave donations, you start saying your goodbyes; wishing everyone a good weekend before you blow a kiss to the camera and sign off.

Seungcheol sends one last donation of $550, jaw clenched and cock still throbbing.

He reaches for his phone on instinct, opening your text window. Pausing, he grins. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system but he opens his camera app, flipping it so that it’s on him as he snaps picture after picture of his cum covered torso and his free hand still wrapped around his hard cock.

Smirking, he opens your text window again, thumb dancing across the keyboard with renewed energy.

‘fuck, princess. your fuckin show got me so hard. those panties were fuckin soaking from how much u liked getting ur ass fucked huh? I bet i could get u to cum just from me fuckin your cute lil ass... probably wouldnt even need to touch ur clit or fuck your cunt to get your tight walls cummin for me. but ur a greedy lil thing arent u? probably would still want a toy to keep that pussy nice n sated. fuck, im still hard even tho i already came once.’

He hits send before he thinks twice, quickly attaching a few of his own pictures before he locks his phone and tosses it onto his desk.

Seungcheol’s body is sensitive from his first orgasm still, but his hips thrust up into his closed palm again; head leaning up against the headrest as he lets out harsh breaths. His eyes flutter shut, eyelashes tickling his skin.

This time his imagination runs wild; hands tangled in your hair while he tugs on it, forcing your back straight against his chest as he fucks into you hard and fast. He imagines your sweet voice begging him to let you cum, walls tight around his cock when you fall apart on it.

“Fuck!” He cums hard, body rigid as his free hand digs into the armrest and the air is knocked out of his lungs.

Seungcheol vaguely hears his phone pinging in the background; mind hazy as the waves of his orgasm wash over his body.

When he starts to come down, he slumps against the chair, sleepiness already taking over with his two orgasms and the alcohol still in his system. He mentally makes a note to get rid of his soiled clothes another time, tiredly reaching for his phone.

He stares at it through his blurry vision, barely making out your name before he blinks the tiredness away enough to read your message.

babygirl 🍒: hehe~ does daddy want my panties then? i’ll gladly give them to u if u want them~ 😚

#cherrybomb!cheol #seungcheol smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #scoups smut #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol imagines #scoups imagines #scoups scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #svt imagines #scoups #seungcheol

[nxrthmizu]

kAY but I was thinking, what about or needy, clingy bois (bokuto, oikawa and atsumu), finally reuniting with their singer!s/o after she spent awhile away on tour? thank u in advance, I hope you're well and having a great day! Love your writing. 💌💗

»»——⍟——«« 

request | bokuto, oikawa, and atsumu with a singer!reader who has been away on tour 

words | 1.4k 

author’s note | uwuuu this is such a cute idea anon! hope this is satisfactory :3 also I kind of strayed from the topic? lol 

»»——⍟——««

↬ bokuto koutarou 

most of your tours before were only a day or two long at most, because you would only be touring around Japan

it was for this reason that koutarou never realised how lonely it was when you weren’t around :( 

it wasn’t too bad if he had practice, because he’d eventually get distracted by hinata and atsumu 

but that one time it was really bad because 1. your tour was a week long, and 2. since msby black jackals had just finished playing some big matches, they had a few days off 

he moped around for the whole day, called akaashi five(5) times, and pouted when he tried calling you and it didn’t go through 

twitter blew up because he tweeted on his main that he was lonely and wanted someone to accompany him :( 

hinata was spending the day with kageyama; atsumu was back at hyogo; and sakusa just ignored him so he just spent the whole day at home wallowing in loneliness (poor babie <3 ) 

luckily, there was practice the next day, and hinata was able to coax him out of emo mood half an hour into practice 

by the time the week was over, this boy was vibrating with excitement to see you 

if he had a tail, it would be wagging at two hundred crotchet beats per minute 

even with your sunglasses and hat on, he was able to recognise you and I am not joking when I say this man screamed at the sight of you, ran across the airport to pick you up :) 

this man is not going to let you go for the next five hours 

he held your hand the whole drive back home, then insisted on getting into the shower with you, cuddled you while waiting for takeout, made you sit on his lap while the two of you ate, cuddled again while watching a movie... etc. you get the idea 

the next morning when he wakes up with your in his arms he has the biggest smile on his face because he’s been waking up alone for the past week and now that you’re back he’s going to ignore his morning run in favour of staying in bed with you for ten more minutes :3 

↬ oikawa tooru 

he tries not to be clingy because he doesn’t want you to get tired of him but damnnn he misses you so much :( 

and then he proceeds to feel bad because the only thing he can think of is that you must’ve felt this lonely too when he had to fly out of argentina to play international matches 

for every night that you’re gone he has to resist the urge to call you because he knows you’re going to be tired and you need your rest but jskjksjskjs he wants to hear your voice 

if you call him first he’ll try his best to not sound too excited but the truth is,,, this cute baby missed you so much 

‘did you miss me?’ you meant it in a pleasing tone, but you didn’t expect your boyfriend to literally have a mental breakdown on the other side of the line 

he goes to sleep with a smile on his face, because even though he can’t feel your warmth next to him, he can hear your soft breathing through his phone, and that’ll have to be enough for now 

(he also promises himself that the next time he flies out of the country, he’ll make sure to call you every night) 

that isn’t to say he isn’t affected, though 

his teammates notice that his sets are just a slight bit off when you’re not around 

that’s not to say he doesn’t set well, it just isn’t as accurate as it normally is 

the day that you fly back coincidentally clashes with a match, so he makes sure to call you the night before and apologise for not being able to pick you up from the airport 

he’s doing his best to concentrate on the match, but between his phases of strong focus, his brain is filled with thoughts of going home and seeing you, your hair still damp from your shower 

god, he missed you so much 

the game flies past quickly, a quick victory for his team- but the serotonin that the win gives him is nothing compared to the feeling in his heart when he turns and spots you, waving with a smile from the stands, dressed in his former, turquoise-and-white Seijoh jersey (that’s how he always picks you out in a crowd- because you’re always wearing glasses and a hat to avoid anyone recognising you in public)

‘look at him go.’ his teammates nudge each other at the sight of the lovesick-smile that he’s wearing 

you run down to the dressing room, the security personnel recognising you easily and letting you in 

he picks you up, spins you around and kisses you (just because he can and because he wants to show off his strength :)) 

‘god, I missed you so much,’ 

just imagine this man tucking his face in your neck and murmuring that softly <3 I would die for him and this is the proof 

‘you’re so sweaty!’ you laugh but both of you know that you don’t really mind. it doesn’t matter because the love of your life, tooru, is right in front of you and everything else pales in comparison compared to him 

tooru would pamper you so much when you get home, he would hold you in his lap and wait for you to fill him in on everything that happened 

he’s touchy normally but after spending a week away from you, his touches linger for a moment longer and he’s more reluctant about letting you go if you want to get up to get something 

please love him <3 

↬ miya atsumu 

he used to tease you so much when you complained about missing him when he had away games 

but now that he was in your place? he was starting to understand where you were coming from 

you had barely been gone for two days and he was missing your presence already... and he knew he couldn’t call you to hear your voice because you’d probably be getting ready for a performance or catching up on much-needed rest 

he would never admit it but he turned on your laptop to listen to some of your recordings just so he could hear your voice 

sprayed your perfume on the bedsheets just to make it smell it a little bit more like you 

definitely watched a bunch of romance movies in hopes of feeling better but ended up feeling even more lonely instead :( poor bby 

he literally screamed when he got a text from you 

you know that super-high girly screech that some teenagers make? yeah he made that noise, nearly dropped his phone, then proceeded to squeal at your message 

[ hey idiot, how was your day? ] 

the nickname ‘idiot’ isn’t an insult anymore but instead an affectionate title, and he can basically hear your laugh and your voice next to him as he reads the words 

[ hey to you too idiot, my day was ok. urs? :) ] 

it doesn’t show in his texts but he has the biggest smile on his face and the only thing he can think about is you, your pretty eyes and your hair and your skin and basically just... you 

when he finally hears your voice in person again, instead of out of your laptop or from one of your music videos, this man just... stops 

completely freezes because he’s forgotten how beautiful you sound and look and the sight of you, pulling your mask down, standing outside the apartment door just hits him hard 

‘i love you,’ he mumbled into your shoulder, pulling you into a hug 

you pat him on the back a little awkwardly like... what happened in the week you were gone? who is this? that’s not your boyfriend it’s an imposter 

does he wrap you in a bear hug and not let go for the next two hours? absolutely 

‘tsumu... I need to use the toilet.’ 

‘no.’ 

you’re just??? wdym no??? sir I need to use the toilet 

»»——⍟——«« 

send me requests! I feel like writing :3 (ah yes me ignoring the fact I skipped multiple daminette december days plus terushima’s songfic) 

gen. haikyuu!! taglist. @owlywrites @hikari-writes 

»»——⍟——«« 

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! headcanons #Bokuto Koutarou #bokuto koutarou x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #bokuto fluff #bokuto headcanons #oikawa fluff #oikawa headcanons #atsumu fluff #atsumu headcanons

[shigarakis-fifth-hand]

Undercover; Jirou x Poly! Reader x Momo

Jsjsjs okay, poly x reader (Bc I'm a closeted poly irl lmao) How about jirou x reader x momo, but they're all pro-heroes. The reader is like an undercover agent-type hero. (Not like an underground hero, i mean full james bond stuff) But they went to UA with the rest of the class 1a. Maybe they're all at a school reunion & the reader is technically doing cover work in plain sight. An assassin is trying to kill/miam one of the top 10 heroes. Go from there. (Also, thx for telling me abt ur rq💛🥺)

UA’s year of 2048’s 10-year Reunion had people flying in from all over. Iida had to cut his meeting short and fly overseas, Jirou had to miss a concert that she had with her fans, totally forgetting and planning last-minute per usual, and of course, you had forgotten about it until your boss brought something up about it. At first, you had been sad that you would not be able to go and see all of your friends from years ago due to the crazy amount of work that stacked up on your desk, mountain beyond mountains of emails and files, begging you to take their case.

But luckily, going to the Reunion was a case itself, and a very important one. Eraserhead, one of the underground, older heroes, had been beginning to be threatened by an organization of hero-haters on social media. At first, it had all been just petty hate and bickering, until the threats began to pour in from this random account. Police had identified the IP address, only to find nothing beyond that. That’s when Eraserhead began getting “gifts” left outside his door, and notes too. Threatening notes, telling him to enjoy his last days before he was killed by the sender. Your company, the Federal Hero Unit Agency, had begged him not to attend the reunion and stay in his apartment with his husband Present Mic until the situation could be dealt with. But, he had refused to miss a night with his favorite past class. 

That’s when you had been contacted by your Boss personally, and assigned the case of protecting him through out the night, keeping a watch on him while not giving away your identity as an agent and protector. That’s right, you were an FBI agent that dealed with Hero Matters, including but not limited to stalkers, missing heroes, murdered heroes, and keeping track of where, when, and how the heroes were doing mentally. A hero in a bad mental state was a disaster waiting to happen. You had chosen the job, not only because the company was begging you, but you needed to help keep the heroes of the town safe. The heroes would protect the city, and you would protect them. This also gave you reason to keep a close watch on all your past classmates and how they were doing. In a world like your own, you wanted to be the first to know when they got hurt so you could go see them. They didn’t know how but you always knew when and how they were doing.

Checking yourself out in the mirror, you were fairly impressed by the look of the dress you had gotten last minute. A black dress that showed your shoes nicely, fairly simple but also cute. Looked well with your skin tone. “Ready gorgeous?” Your girlfriend Momo walked through the door, glancing you up and down and smiling. You turned to look at her, in her best color of red of course. He wore a low cut dress of course to your dismay that only promised that you two would have fun tonight if she wanted it. “Where’s Jiri?” You asked, surprised when she smiled lightly of getting to see the third to your Three Muscuteers. Your other girlfriend, Jirou, had been on tour of her concert. You would have happily joined her if it hadn’t required taking over a month off of work, which was not allowed. Still, you hadn’t physically seen her in such a long time, and FaceTime had got boring past a week of doing it.

At the same time, you and Momo had more time to yourself, able to fully spend hours and hours making love without Jirou wanting to run off and watch a movie or sing karaoke with her ADHD self. You did miss her though, and would be so happy to see her in just an hour at the school. “I’m so glad your work let you do this. I was not showing up to that party without someone to hold onto, I’m not that independent.” She giggled before turning to look at you both in the mirror. “Aww, we look cute. Hope Jiri didn’t just wear jeans and a shirt like she said she would. I think that was just a joke, but again, would not be surprised.” Momo exclaimed as you two made it to the door of the two bedroom condo on the top floor of the penthouse you rented. The roof allowed you ways to leave your house using your quirk and not be tracked by cameras. The more discreet, the better for your career anyways.

Out the grand doors of the lobby and into the limo Momo had arranged, you two waited eagerly to pull up to the school. UA, the place where everything had changed. You had moved in with Momo as roommates the first year, and from then had began getting romantic. It was only after you lost your virginities that you fully and verbally established a relationship with one another. Momo had promised to keep herself “pure”, but the way you kissed her lips was nothing but like an angel to her, so she couldn’t help herself. For a while, Jirou had only been a close friend for the both of you. Sure, Jirou kissed you but it was only “friendly”. You sent her your nudes, but only to get some feedback on how good you looked. Jirou would try on your clothes and change in your room, but it was only because you were both girls and it was no big deal. Jirou only came along into the relationship after getting drunk at a party and you all learning new ways for three people to touch at once. 

Boy, were you excited to see her. Finally, the limo pulled up to the school, lots of camera flashing following your arrival. Used to it by now, you held your hand up to your face to block the light, pulled your arm over Momo’s shoulders, and pulled her along with you up the stairs and into the building, ignoring all the yelling and questions. Immediately as you entered, a wave of nostalgia entered you as you were remembered of the many days you guys would sit on the couch, eat, and play ping pong, having the news play in the background of heroes and their work or fights. It only fit the aesthetic of what you were all training to be. Some would say you were each other's competition, but you all were friends. There was no doubt about the undying platonic love you all shared. Momo must have felt it too as she squealed and giggled, squeezing your hand and jumping up and down. 

“I have to go to the bathroom. Go ahead of me, alright? I’ll be there in a minute.” You smiled, gave her a wink, and watched her way safely in the room. After having so many villains want you dead, there was no problem being extra careful with the ones you loved, especially after knowing someone dangerous was possibly already in the building. You walked into the ladies room, seeing two girls already there. A woman with a black pixie cut and black dress, sort of similar to your own, stood at the mirror, fixing her makeup. The other had long, bright red hair and dark skin. You nodded to them, smiling as you walked into the stall.

Being as silent as you were trained, you slid out the earpiece and clipped it onto your ear, adjusting the mic to just under your ear, and the sound projector into your ear. You made some noise, then stepped out, nodded to the ladies again, and left. Quickly walking, eager to start your mission, see your girlfriends, and your friends. As you walked into the room, the party seemed to buzz extra loud as everyone saw you. Denki practically tackled you, not changing but from the peach fuzz on his chin and tattoo below his eye. You had seen Denki multiple times in public and when you scheduled to meet up, but this time just seemed special. “My girl! What’s up?! You look- so good!” He exclaimed, his eyes lingering on your figure. “Watch it tiger, this one is taken.” You looked behind him to see Mina, much taller, and with a more alt look to her now. “Yes! You’re dating Momo and Jirou right? They published you in Hero Weekly multiple times. You represent more than you can imagine Y/n!” Deku exclaimed. You smiled and winked at him, seeing that he hadn’t changed but from his hair style, and the fact that Todoroki swung his arm around him. “Good to… see you.” Todoroki mumbled slowly. You knew he meant well, but yet he hadn’t changed as well, personality included. “There she is!!” She turned to see Kirishima and Sero, running up to you full-speed. “Sero! Kiri!” You practically screamed, jumping into the arms of your awaiting guy friends. “God, I’ve missed you!!” You exclaimed, smiling ear to ear. 

“We saw you two days ago, chill dude.” Sero giggled, before separating. “Y/n. Kirishima. Sero. Please refrain from yelling inside.” You all looked behind you to see Aizawa, holding a glass of wine and wearing a suit. He hadn’t aged a day, and yet, the eyebags were just a little deeper. “Sorry Mr. Aizawa.” You grinned, giving him your best apologizing smile. Things haven't changed that much over 10 years. “Although your looks have altered, your personalities haven’t changed. Good.” Your past teacher smiled warmly, for possibly the first time, and walked away. You were about to begin talking to your friends again when you saw Shinso standing behind Aizawa, staring at you with surprise in his eyes. 

Slowly and nervously, he walked up to you. “Y/n…” He looked down at your body and back up you. You couldn’t help but get creeped out, knowing that you and Shinso had once been together, but Jirou and Momo had come into your life. You knew it wasn’t fair to lie to him, so you had broken up with poor Shinso and gotten together with your now girlfriends Jirou and Momo, ignoring the constant calls and desperate messages for months. “Hey Shin. How’s it going?” You asked, smiling and acting as nothing had happened. You two could still be friends after two years, right? You were both over each other and with someone else.

“Good. I’ve been working under Aizawa for a year now, I’m going to become a teacher like him.” He grinned calmly as you smiled proudly at him. “That’s so good! I… I’m really proud of you. Last time, you told me you wanted nothing to do with heroes. And now you want to teach the next generation. I’m so happy!” You exclaimed. Shinso was about to speak, before you felt someone hug you from behind quickly. “Y/n!!” You turned around to see your beautiful girlfriends looking at you, Jirou wrapped around you and Momo smiling off on the side. “My god! I missed you so much!” Jirou reached up and kissed you slowly before returning to hug you. “I missed you too.” You looked down at her outfit and rolled your eyes. She was just wearing a black ruffled top and jeans, and not the dress Momo had bought her. She still looked great though, so you choose not to complain.

After many hours of talking among your former classmates, exchanging contact, and talking about your job, you constantly kept on edge, keeping your eye on Aizawa as he walked around, saying hello to every single student and other teacher, Mic staying beside his side for the most part, and Shinso staying near him for some of it. Watching Shinso, you saw him and how he avoided all his classmates. He didn’t make eye contact with the classmates, and refused to talk to anyone really. He had not changed personalities anyway over the past ten years, and you almost felt sorry for him. At least he had gotten a new girlfriend. You couldn’t help but wonder how he was doing mentally. He looked absolutely ripped, but his undereye bags were terrible and his hair was just as messy since high school.

Finally, the main part started, and you began to get prepared. Holding hands with Jirou to your left, and Momo to your right, you felt a sense of blending in with the audience. You made sure to observe the people around you, and keep your thoughts to yourself as you evaluated each and every person. Finally, your main subject, Eraserhead, stepped into the main room. You left your girlfriends and stepped next to Eraserhead, smiling. “May I? Looks like you’re lonely.” You smiled, seeing that Mic was currently busy, operating the lights and speakers as he pleased. He refused to let anyone else do it but him. “Don’t play me Y/n. I know your job, and I know why you’re here.” Your older teacher looked away from you, before you nudged him playfully. “So, is that a no? Or an absolutely yes?” You smiled playfully as he looked back at you and grinned. “You haven’t changed a bit. Good.” He offered you his arm and you grabbed it, making your way to the seats offered for you. Your boss has made sure you had a seat right next to Aizawa. 

Over the next half hour, speeches were made, food was served, and laughs were shared. It was a joyful time, but you couldn’t help but look for Aizawa. He was all over the place, as if he was trying to get away from you. Finally, people began dancing. Getting nervous, you quickly got up and walked towards the teacher. 

“May I have this dance?” You grinned cheekily at him as he turned to you, unamused by your humor. “How about you leave me alone? I don’t need my former student protecting me. It’s my job as a hero to protect you.” He explained, but you just shook your head, stepping closer. “No way Sir. It is my job to protect you, and only you quite literally.” You winked at him, joking again. Finally, you turned your head and gave him your puppy-dog eyes. “How about that dance?” He nodded and grabbed your, smiling as you both began to make your way to the dance floor.

He told you about his recent retirement, and how he and Mic had been spending their recent times in their secret vacation home down South in the islands. You then began telling him about how you had gotten into a relationship with two of your fellow students, and he told you how happy he was for you all. “You girls were always close. I’m so happy, you deserve as many lovers as you desire.” He commented, making you suddenly so happy. “Mic dated two people once in elementary school. He was… such the player.” You both laughed, before Aizawa looked down at his phone. “Speak of the devil.” You noticed that Aizawa had gotten a text from Mic. “Excuse me for a minute.” Aizawa went to walk away towards the hallway, before looking back at you, seeing your worry. “I’ll be fine. Mic is waiting for me on the balcony.”

You nodded, going to sit down when you suddenly saw Mic looking around. “Has anyone seen my phone?” He yelled out, walking around. It took you a minute to realize it, but you quickly jumped up and looked at him. “Where’s Aizawa?!” You asked him loudly, causing some people to look at you strangely. “I… I don’t know, wasn’t he just with you?” Mic asked, looking at you strangely with confusion in his expression. “Oh god. Oh god!” You ran to the door that Aizawa had walked out, before pulling and pushing on it. It was stuck. Looking around, and then at the ceiling, you began to see a light green, almost neon, mist coming out of the sprinklers. “Everyone cover your mouths!” You screamed, bringing your shirt up to your mouth as the mist began to get thicker in the air. People began coughing, and everyone began freaking out. “Y/n?! Y/n!” You looked over to see Jirou and Momo running towards you. Jirou began to have trouble breathing, coughing and such since her shirt was very thin and not useful as a mask. 

“Momo, make an explosion and get everyone out. I’ll need all the back up I can get. Also, tell everyone to get low. This gas rises high and won’t settle on the ground.” You commanded your girlfriend, before Jirou turned to you. “What about you?” She asked, fear and panic in her eyes. “I’m going to go save our teacher.” You smiled, kissed her cheek, and ran off. Using your quirk, you were able to walk through the walls and see that the door has been blocked off by dozens of pieces of heavy furniture, too heavy for you. Finally, you were able to breathe. “Aizawa?!” You screamed, following the sound of slight mumbling through the dozens and dozens of hallways. 

Suddenly, you heard laughing, and turned around, knowing that the villain was right around the corner. You recognized that laugh… “Shinny?” You called out, hearing the laughing stop suddenly. He knew you were there. And you knew he was there. And he knew you knew he was there.

“Shinny? What are you doing?” You asked, eyes wide. With the way you were pretending, you made sure to look sad and betrayed. “Oh Y/n… I’m sorry.” He whispered at you. Looking out, you saw that they were on the balcony, Aizawa about to jump five stories off, but he wasn’t his normal self. Shinso had Aizawa under his control. “Shinso, please don’t do this.” You mumbled, walking towards him. You had to use Shinso’s love for you against him, something you thought you’d never do. “Oh Y/n, I have to. I have to make a name for myself as a villain, and taking out a big-time hero like this will jump-start my career.” He tried to explain, but you just shook his head. “Now, it’s time. Aizawa-” You interrupted Shinso, keeping him from instructing Aizawa to jump. “You knew I’d get out of there. You know my quirk Shinso. You knew I’d get out. Why?” You asked as you kept walking towards him. “I… I want you to join me Y/n. There’s a little bit of me that still wants to become a villain, but I want to do it with you. Please. Join me.” He reached his hand out towards you, and you instantly grabbed it. 

Walking towards him, you kissed him, and felt his hands grab onto your body. You could tell he wanted this, and you regretted what you would have to do next. You overpowered him, using every ounce of strength, and pushed him to the ground. “Hitoshi Shinso, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say can and will be used against you in the name of law.” You dragged handcuffs out of your pockets and whipped them around his hands, sitting on top of him as you did so. Before he could speak, you got out a piece of tape and stuck it to his mouth. As Shinso panicked, he lost control, and Aizawa quickly fell back onto the balcony, now fully awake and safe. 

“Y/n… I don’t know what happened, he-” You patted his head, smiling softly at the adult man on the ground who was now shaken up and scared. “It’s fine now Aizawa, he’s not going to hurt a fly again. Right Shinny?” You slapped Shinso against the face very softly and smiled, knowing he was hating every second of this. “T-Thank you. I’m sorry about earlier, you did great, I-” You shushed Aizawa, feeling happy about your mission becoming a success. “Just doing my job. You may even call me your hero.” 

The other students and faculty met up with you, all of them acquiring gas masks made by Momo herself, which she was very proud of. Mic was quick to hug Aizawa, and your girls were quick to hug you. They had been scared, not knowing if you were okay or not while they all struggled to get the door open. Finally, Momo had looked up how to make dynamite, and had blown up the doorway and the surrounding halls. Looking out onto everyone, you began to see everyone’s true nature again. Deku had been crying, Shinso had been keeping Izuku sane, Bakugo had been angry at you for going out on your own, and Kirishima was boasting about how manly you were to anyone who would listen. You only stopped for a second before looking down at the street to see Shinso being taken away in handcuffs. “Well, I’ve got to go. Duty calls.” You smiled at your girls, kissing them and beginning to walk away, hearing hoots, hollers, and farewells at your back.

You didn’t need to say goodbye, because it was not. Aizawa and Mic would send flowers to your office, Denki would want to play video games and catch up as if you were still teenagers, Bakugo and Kirishima would invite the Bakusquad over to grill out, you would see your girlfriends at home that night, Deku and Todoroki would want to have a couples getaway, Mina, Asui and Ochako would want to have a Girls Night out, and Iida… Well you saw Iida on missions a lot anyways, and you two were already heavily close. You were close with the entire class, and you were happy to see that even over 10 years, nothing had really changed about life.

Down at the street, you waved to your fellow cops before getting in the front seat next to your partner, and looking at the back mirror towards Shinso. “So… you’re a cop now?” He asked, watching you nod at his question. “Glad one of us is doing something with their life. Good for you.” He remarked as you looked out the window. In the side mirror, you could see Shinso begin to smile. He really was happy for you, and you knew that when he got out of jail, you’d be there for him to, hopefully to help him find his purpose in life too. Maybe he would find his own version of Momo and Jirou.

#momo x reader #momo x jirou #momojirou #bnha momo #momo #momo yayorozu #yayorozu #jirou kyouka #jirou icons #jirou x reader #Jirou #bnha x reader #mha x reader #x reader #request #aizawa shota #bnha aizawa #shouta aizawa #shota aizawa #aizawa x hizashi #erasermic #present mic #Dadmic #erasermic fanfic #mic #shinso x reader #Hizashi #shinsou fluff #hitoshi shinso x reader #shinsou smau

[panda-noosh]

hello! i loved reading your work, they're SO GOOD and i don't think i've been happier 💕 do you mind writing a ghost cedric x reader? thank you i hope ur day is well!! ✨✨✨✨

Filch thought the halls were empty when he did his final rounds of the night. You know better.

  You only leave your room when you hear the knock on the gargoyle outside. Nobody else bats an eyelid, mistaking the noise for a gust of window, or a painting getting restless – again, you know better.

  No one else wants to admit what's really going on. Everyone else wants to think Cedric died, and he's peaceful now, living whatever life he wanted to live before the Dark Lord took it all away from him. People don't really talk about Cedric all that often any more, like his name is some kind of taboo. You don't complain; you see him almost every night, so it's not as if you're missing out.

  You hear the knock tonight, as per usual, and make your way out of the Hufflepuff common room. A swift glance left and right lets you know the coast is clear, and that's when Cedric makes his appearance, a dazzling glimmer in the dim darkness of the Hogwarts hallways. He's smiling, as he is often is, with his hair slicked back and his feet hovering just a few inches off the floor. He was always taller than you, but now you have to look up at him just to see his eyes. Eyes that are dead and grey, but his eyes nonetheless.

  Seeing him always has the same effect on you. Stomach flip, a moment if fear, disbelief that he's really here even though you saw his body in the gardens that day, cradled by Harry Potter. But then he reaches out, and his cold fingers brush a strand of hair from your face, and you realise with a start that none of this is fake, he is here, you can talk to him.

  “You look very shiny tonight.”

  Cedric chuckles. Cold air brushes your arms, and you have to fight to stop yourself from shivering. “Hello to you, too.”

  “Let's get walking before someone in the common room hears us.”

  “Aw, do they not wanna come out and say hi?”

  You scoff. “They all miss you like mad, Ced, but they're also wimps – they'll call for McGonagall the second they lay eyes on you.”

   Cedric scowls before the two of you set off along the hallway. It's so normal now, this feeling of bewilderment. You still have not been able to properly process the fact that Cedric is here, walking along beside you in his ghost form, that you were so lucky to have him come back and greet you.

  “Have you spoken to Harry yet?” you find yourself asking, because this is the question you ask every time you see him.

  He hollows out his cheeks. “You know I can't do that.”

  “Why not? You can show yourself to me.”

   “Because I want to show myself to you. Plus, you want to see me, and I know you want to see me.” He pauses, glancing back and forth as if waiting for someone to jump out at him. “I don't know if Harry wants to see me.”

  “Of course he does. That poor lad probably hasn't stopped thinking of you since you.  . . Well, you know.”

  “That's the point, though. I think it would be better if he just stopped thinking about me, and we're never gonna get to that point if I keep showing up outside the Gryffindor common room every night.”

  You sigh; it's Cedric's decision, of course, and you can definitely understand where he's coming from. Nonetheless, you're also the poor soul who has to watch Harry Potter mope around the hallways thinking he killed an innocent Hufflepuff. No matter how many times you let him know that Cedric isn't mad at him, he takes your words only as loose condolences. He has no idea that Cedric himself has actually passed the message along.

  Lost in your thoughts, you don't notice Cedric swoop down until his cold fingers are looping through your own. It takes a lot of strength, he once told you, to tether himself to the real world, to feel things are he once did in his living years. You glance over to see him gritting his teeth, clearly putting a lot of effort into getting your attention back on him.

  You chuckle, slipping your hand out of his. He immediately deflates, closing his eyes for a moment before grinning down at you.

  “You zoned out.”

  “Sorry,” you reply. “But don't do that again. You're gonna burst a blood vessel.”

  He scoffs. “Don't tell me you don't miss holding my hand.”

  You pause. You kind of hate it when he says things like that, because he says them with a smile. He says it like it's a joke, and maybe to him it is. To him, it's easy to perceive it that way, because he's just living his life. Nothing has changed for him. He gets to see the people he saw before, and he can speak to them if he so wishes – you, on the other hand, have the trauma of seeing your boyfriend laying dead in the grass. You do miss holding his hand. A lot. An awful lot.

  Cedric swoops down again, blocking your path. His eyebrows are furrowed, a tiny crinkle forming between them that you so desperately want to flatten down, just as you used to, but even if you try, your hand will go right through him. “Hey. What's wrong?”

   “Nothing,” you reply. “Let's just keep walking. I think the library should still be open-”

  “You're lying. I can tell when you're lying.”

   You hollow out your cheeks, stopping in your tracks. Cedric pauses, too, staring at you intensely.

  “I just. . . Miss a lot of things,” you mumble. “Like holding your hand, for example.”

  Cedric pulls back as if he's been slapped. You groan, making to reach for his arm, realising your mistake only seconds too late. Your fingers fall through his arm, and he notices, watching the action unfold as his expression slowly deadens to one of sadness and concern.

  His eyes flick back to you.

  You bite your lip. “Sorry. I know. . . I shouldn't be talking about stuff like this when I don't even get to see you that often. It just plays on my mind sometimes, that's all.”

  “No,” Cedric says abruptly. “No, you have every right to be upset. Shit, Y/N, I didn't even think about that. Not properly.” He runs a hand through his hair. It flops back against his forehead. It brings memories back. “I'm a bit of a shit boyfriend, aren't I?”

  Your eyes widen. “What? Cedric, no-”

  “And I've been thinking,” he continues, speaking quickly now, like he's in a rush to get the words out before you can say anything to contradict him. “If you want to move on with someone else, I'm totally cool with that. Like, I am technically dead – you shouldn't feel tethered to me in any way.”

   Your heart drops. It scares you, those words. The mere thought of moving on with anyone else makes you panic in a way that is most definitely unhealthy, but you can't help it. Cedric is right, of course – he is dead, and you should be moving on with your life, but it's early. You still have the image of his body planted behind your eyelids, can still remember how cold he felt when you fell to your knees and grabbed his hand, screaming out for help that was never going to be successful.

  You shake your head like a dog getting dry. “Cedric, stop. Stop talking like that.”

   “You're going to have to move on eventually,” he says. “Just because I'm here doesn't mean I expect you to stay with me the rest of your life. My life was over a while ago-”

  “Two months ago!” you exclaim. Cedric winces as your voice echoes off the stone walls, but you don't care any more.

  “Okay, two months ago,” he says. “But don't you think it's time you start forgetting about me? About us?”

  His voice trembles. You watch him when he speaks, the way his bottom lip shakes, his Adams apple bobbing, like the words are difficult to get out. You know he means it; he wants you to move on and be happy, and you know you're going to have to do just that at some point, but right now, you don't want anyone else.

  You step forward and reach out, letting your fingers glide through his delicately. He stiffens at the touch, looking down at you with heavy lidded eyes.

  “I love you, Cedric,” you say. “Now, and forever, I love you. Let's just enjoy what we have right now and we can worry about everything else when life catches up to us, yeah?”

  His shoulders slump. “Baby-”

   “Please, Ced. I lost you once. Let me recover before I lose you a second time.”

   He stares for a second longer before nodding. Then, gritting his teeth, he turns his hand over and gives your hand a squeeze, cold but familiar. You don't know how you're ever going to let go of it.

[dvp95]

quiet on widow’s peak (10)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, mystery, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 2.8k (this chapter), 32.4k (total) summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

They try everything. Sophie handles the cameras and phones while Phil and Chris spend way too long cleaning up files on their laptops and doing what they can to get any clear images out of the mess. It's no use. By the time PJ returns from driving Dan home, all they've accomplished is figuring out that the corruption is on their devices, not on the exported files. No matter what they do, the videos and pictures they took have the effect of being scrambled, like someone has pressed fast forward and also put a noise filter over them. The sound is no better - there's a high-pitched sort of ringing in all of the video and audio recordings that Phil can't understand the source of. Some files won't open altogether.

"How does this even happen?" Sophie mutters, bent over Chris' phone with a furrowed brow. "There's nothing left. Like, at all."

"We still have footage from the first night," says Phil. He's trying his very best to stay positive, but this is unbelievably frustrating. They experienced something last night, even if they can't agree on what it was, and they're supposed to start driving back to Brighton before it gets too dark. They don't have time for this. "With the shadow, you know."

His friends make grunts of irritated agreement. Phil knows that all of them are disappointed and a little angry about the lack of evidence for their hellish night, almost like they went through it for nothing, but he doesn't have anything comforting to say.

Phil has never been very good at comfort. He's good at distracting people and forcing optimism, but seeing such visceral emotions from his usually mild housemates makes him want to retreat into himself. He takes his glasses off to rub at his eyes, fighting off a budding headache.

"That's not really enough for a video, though, is it," says PJ. "I mean, you're not going to convince anyone with just a shadow."

"Well, we can't stay to try and get more," Chris says with a little huff.

"I can," Phil points out. He doesn't think he wants to, really, because this whole situation skeeves him out and going back alone would not help, but he needs there to be a purpose to his friends' suffering or he'll never forgive himself. He stares at his unfocused laptop screen, full of files that don't work, and wonders if they're going to bother to try and stop him. "I mean, you guys all have work tomorrow. I don't have anywhere to be. And I kind of want to see this through, so I can, like… take the train home when it's done."

There's a moment of quiet. Phil feels his shoulders tense at the possibility that he's going to have to argue his way into this. It's his job. Plus, he already knows his parents are going to have a problem with him staying longer to investigate, and fighting with yet another set of well-meaning people is more than he wants to do.

"Normally I'd be like, whatever," says PJ. "You know what you're doing and you do this sort of shit alone all the time. But, Phil, how the fuck do you think the paralysis will work if you're by yourself?"

"I won't try to sleep there," Phil decides, shoving his glasses back onto his face. "That's the only time it's happened, right? When people are already falling asleep?"

PJ's mouth twists unhappily, but he doesn't protest further. Phil wonders if he's actually won this argument or if PJ is just too tired from bickering with Dan about cryptids, or whatever they talked about on the drive. Thinking about Dan is a distraction, and not exactly a welcome one. Phil doesn't know how he feels - or even if he should be feeling anything at all - and he doesn't want to add that crisis on top of the one he's already dealing with.

"So you're just going to go there," says Chris. "Alone. And then poke around and go home?"

"That's what I do in most haunts."

"Fair play. Carry on."

It's almost funny how quickly PJ's expression nosedives into aghast. "What? That's it? You're not putting up more of a fight?"

"Why bother?" Chris asks with a little shrug. "He's a stubborn bellend."

"Hey," Phil half-heartedly protests. His friends don't deign to acknowledge it.

"You should bring a sigil with you," says Sophie. Her voice is soft and tired, but her eyes are kind in a way that PJ and Chris don't bother to be. "Why don't you bring something down that you'd have on you, and we'll all put something on it?"

"Really?" Chris asks. It's impossible to tell what he's thinking. Phil doesn't know if he thinks the idea is good or stupid, but he nods after Sophie does. "Alright, we can do that."

PJ is looking off into the distance while cogs seem to turn in his head. "Something you'll have physically on you, Philly, since we can't put it on your skin itself. Let us draw on your glasses or jacket or -"

"Knickers," Chris chimes in.

"Or your knickers," PJ agrees, far more solemnly than Phil thinks is necessary.

It doesn't seem like it'll actually help, but Phil feels so much affection and gratitude for his friends wanting to protect him in any way they can that he doesn't argue.

Phil doesn't really like the idea of going to the Wilkins place alone, either, but he's a lot more comfortable doing that than dragging his innocent friends along for the awful ride again. He thinks about Sophie's kind eyes staring up at the ceiling blankly, the way PJ gasped when he woke up, Chris trying to hide his own concern about the situation, and he feels his resolve stiffen even more.

Maybe he is a stubborn bellend. This is his responsibility, though. It's not right for him to keep asking for help. Phil lets the conversation flow to what snacks they're going to get for the drive and thinks about how he's going to break the situation to his parents.

--

It doesn't feel as satisfying to shut the door of his childhood bedroom, now. Maybe it's the fact that he's too mature to slam it, or maybe it's that the room itself isn't the haven it used to be. All the neutral colours and boring pieces of art are like a constant visual reminder that his life isn't here anymore.

He doesn't want it to be here. That isn't the problem. It feels stupid if he thinks about it for too long, but he grew up in this house. He's got scars from the sharp corners of the old furniture and more memories than he has in any other singular location. Sure, it makes sense that his parents are retiring and want to downsize from a big, empty house, but Phil really isn't comfortable with this level of change. He kind of assumed he'd always be able to come visit and feel at home again.

Phil sinks onto the mattress. For a long moment, he seriously considers going to sleep. It's barely past seven, but he didn't sleep well this morning. At least if he's unconscious he doesn't need to deal with the crushing weight of his parents' disappointment and worry.

The decision is made for him when his phone buzzes with a notification from Tumblr.

tell ur parents thanks for letting me stay and tell pj thanks for bringing me home and tell urself thanks for the uhhhh experience lmao its deffo not one im gonna forget anytime soon

Phil huffs a laugh and gets comfortable. You're very welcome. I'll tell them when I come out of hiding.

arent you in a very small car on your way to brighton mate… how tf do you manage to hide in there when youre huge

Oh I'm not in the car, I'm still at my parents' place. It's a long story and I hate typing a bunch on my phone. Phil grimaces at himself for the way that sounds, like he's cutting off any questions Dan might have before they ask. He sends another message. Voice call me on Skype or something if you wanna hear about my no good, very bad day.

He doesn't expect Dan to actually call him, let alone immediately, but Phil's phone starts buzzing with a Skype call before he's collected himself enough to find his headphones. He's still detangling while he answers with a sheepish, "Oh, hello!"

"Hi," says Dan. Their voice is low and amused, and Phil can't believe how nice it is to hear after only a handful of hours.

"I'm woefully unprepared, as per usual," Phil rambles, finally getting his headphones in and grinning at the bland wall in front of him. Nobody is here to judge him for it. "You, er, got home alright?"

"Obviously yes," says Dan. "So, you had a bad day?"

"'Cause you had a bad day," Phil sings back to them. The sound of Dan's giggle makes any embarrassment worth it, he thinks. "Yeah, uh, it was rough. So we wanted to look over the footage from last night to see what the camera caught, y'know, but… I don't know how, I don't have an explanation for it, but everything is corrupted. Our audio, our video, our photos. They're all beyond repair."

There's a few moments of silence, where Phil would think Skype had frozen if he couldn't still hear the faint music on Dan's end. Then, "What? You - what? We don't have anything?"

Phil likes the sound of 'we'. He probably shouldn't.

"We tried everything," Phil explains, his heart feeling heavy all over again at the reminder that they spent hours terrified for nothing. "But the corruption isn't even in the exported files, it's on our devices themselves. Chris' phone, our cameras… they're all fucked."

"If you're swearing, it must be fucking serious," says Dan. Phil wants to interrupt then, explain that his policy on bleeping out curses is more about staying monetized and keeping his parents happy than any personal morals, but Dan has already shot past the topic at the speed of light. "So basically we've got no proof we were ever there, let alone that something weird happened - which I'm not saying is some kind of fucking paranormal shit, by the way, but it was weird - and now you've got nothing to make a video with and I never should have told you about this place to begin with?"

"Dan, breathe." Phil waits until he's sure that Dan is at least trying to follow the directive. "It's okay. I'm glad you brought me here. And that's why I'm still in town - I'm going to get more footage."

"Not alone, you're not," Dan says fiercely.

"Peej and the other Scoobs already went home. I just didn't go with them."

"I don't care where your friends are," says Dan. Phil can almost see their hand waving dismissively. "You're not going back there alone. End of story."

The clear insistence in Dan's voice should be getting Phil's back up against the wall. He hates being told what to do with his own projects, needs to be in complete control whenever possible. Instead, he finds himself thinking that it's sweet of Dan to worry like that.

Christ, but he's got it bad.

"I'm still in town either way," Phil says, picking at a loose thread in his sleeve absent-mindedly. "Which my parents are, uh, not thrilled about."

"Really?" Dan sounds genuinely surprised. "They seem like they really love you, mate."

Love has never been the issue. That feels strange to think, cocky almost, but Phil has never really worried that his parents won't love him. Even with the secrets he keeps from them and their fears about the way he lives his life, the worst he's ever expected is disappointment. That just isn't the way their relationship works.

"Oh, they do," says Phil. "But they hate my job, and they think that it's stupid of me to keep investigating a place that clearly doesn't want to be investigated. They believe in ghosts and demons and all that jazz, y'know, they think I'm inviting evil into my life, so they said they'd let me stay here while I work but that we're going to have a 'serious discussion' about my life trajectory when I'm done."

"Ouch. I'd hate that conversation."

"Trust me, it's going to suck. I just got the preview today, and I already know I'm going to want to run away to Iceland."

There's a beat. Then, Dan says, "At least when you're there you can look into the hidden people. You know, the Icelandic elves or whatever that live in a parallel world. That seems up your alley."

"Your mum lives in a parallel world," Phil mutters.

Dan giggles. The sound of it is soft, like they're aware of their own volume, and Phil remembers that Dan lives in some kind of housing with a bunch of other students. He still loves the sound, so much so that he drifts into a nonsensical daydream of making Dan laugh as much as possible and almost misses Dan's voice coming through his headphones again.

"Since you're still in town," Dan is saying, and Phil makes a conscious effort to tune back in, "you should come by the shop tomorrow. I have an early class, but I'm starting work at eleven."

The prospect of seeing Dan again is such a good one that Phil doesn't even hesitate before he's agreeing. It'll be a bit of an effort to get out of bed early enough to avoid his parents and catch Dan for a good amount of time, but Phil feels like it's definitely going to be worth it. He likes Dan, likes being around them if absolutely nothing else, and the ill-advised butterflies in his stomach aren't enough to make him fall on the side of finding this a bad idea.

It isn't until after he's hung up and getting himself a sandwich so he doesn't have to eat an awkward dinner with his parents that Phil realises he's going to have Dan all to himself tomorrow. Well, to himself and to whatever patrons come into the coffee shop. The force of those warm eyes, just focused on him… it's going to test Phil in a way he's not sure he's ready for.

He turns away from the fridge and almost jumps out of his skin.

"Mum," he complains, free hand clutched to his chest. "Don't just stand there, you scared me!"

A smile tugs at Kath's lips, but her arms are crossed and her eyes are staring into Phil's very soul. He feels cornered all of a sudden, like he ought to be clawing for escape.

"Philip," she says, all warmth. There's that slight edge that he remembers so clearly from mishaps as a child, but for the most part it seems like she isn't here to lecture him. He imagines that's going to come from both of them. "This thing that you insist on doing… it's dangerous. You must know that, love."

Phil doesn't actually know that. For the most part, his career hasn't given him anything but boredom and a complex about his own creativity. It's just the odd cases, the ones like the Wilkins house, that get him squirrelly.

"I know, mum," he says anyway. It isn't worth the argument. "But this is my job."

"It doesn't need to be," she presses, and Phil realises that his assumption was very, very wrong. They're going to divide and conquer. She continues like she hasn't noticed the way his whole body is tensing up. "You have such a wonderful mind and loads of ambition, my dear. And that imagination! Gosh, you could do anything that you set your mind to."

Anything he set his mind to - if he actually tried. Phil can hear the words that she isn't saying, that his dad will have no trouble voicing later, and he feels the familiar burn in his throat like he's going to start crying.

He won't. He doesn't cry much, as a rule, but he's well-acquainted with the sensation of holding it back.

"I know that I can," says Phil quietly. He looks down at his sandwich. He isn't very hungry anymore. "Mum, I'm not - I don't do this because I - you know, I like my job."

That's not exactly the truth anymore, but Phil is also well-acquainted with the art of lying to his mother. She doesn't need to know about the doubts that plague Phil, the way that he's felt like he's slogging through videos until they catch his interest properly. That's something he can figure out on his own. He forces his eyes back up at her to drive the point home with a sincere, pleading sort of look.

Her mouth twists, unhappily this time.

"You need to grow up sometime, Phil," she says, so soft that it almost cushions the devastating blow of her words.

Almost.

#quiet on widow's peak #words words words

[aurora-daily]

AURORA.

Interview by Daniel Megarry for Gay Times Magazine’s issue #497 (July 1st, 2019).

Norway’s eu­phoric-pop con­nois­seur on fighting climate change through mu­sic and why big­ots will al­ways lose in the fight against love.

There re­ally is no other artist quite like Aurora. When we meet the 22-year-old Nor­weigan on a rainy day in Lon­don, one of the first things she (quite glee­fully) tells us is that she styles and trims her own hair with a pizza cut­ter. It’s ex­actly the kind of quirky, DIY ap­proach to life we’ve come to ex­pect from Aurora, who si­mul­ta­ne­ously ex­udes a child­like sense of won­der and a wis­dom well be­yond her years. Much like lis­ten­ing to her mu­sic, chat­ting to Aurora is a calm­ing ex­pe­ri­ence, but one that also pro­vokes thought and stays with you long af­ter the record’s stopped spin­ning. Right now, she’s pre­oc­cu­pied with the state of the en­vi­ron­ment, stress­ing that our gen­er­a­tion is the one that has the power to de­stroy or save the earth, a mes­sage that pen­e­trates the lis­tener’s mind on A Different Kind Of Hu­man, the cine­matic sec­ond ‘step’ (or half) of her new al­bum. While Step One was in­tro­spec­tive, Step Two sees Aurora look­ing out­wards, mak­ing noise and ques­tion­ing how we can fix things be­fore it’s too late.

“Peo­ple are so afraid of be­ing po­lit­i­cal, es­pe­cially in pop mu­sic,” she muses, “and that’s why I want to make good, in­tel­lec­tual, emo­tional pop mu­sic that can reach out to peo­ple and speak about something im­por­tant, and re­mind us of something other than all this stuff we don’t re­ally care about.” She’s also pas­sion­ate about Pride, be­ing part of the LGBTQ com­mu­nity – although like many young peo­ple, she prefers not to put la­bels on her­self – and en­cour­ag­ing love, which she says will “save us all” one day. As her new record con­tin­ues to win over fans and crit­ics, we sat down with Aurora to find out how be­ing at one with na­ture shaped her unique out­look on life and mu­sic, why it’s “not even worth lis­ten­ing” to ho­mo­phobes, and how her track Queen­dom is an an­them for all the queers of the world.

Con­grat­u­la­tions on the al­bum re­lease. How are you feel­ing now it’s out in the world?

Well the day it was re­leased, I ac­tu­ally cried a bit at midnight...

Happy cry­ing though, right?

Yeah, happy cry­ing. But also re­lief that you can truly let a lit­tle part of your life go, and then you have so much space the next morn­ing, it’s ridicu­lous how big a dif­fer­ence it is for me. Step One was very sensitive, whereas Step Two is much more pow­er­ful, and so I wanted to split this al­bum into two parts be­cause of the very dis­tinc­tive moods and per­spec­tives. I had one emo­tional jour­ney I wanted to bring peo­ple through, but it was very clear which songs be­longed to which step. Step Two is me think­ing, ‘What can I do for you? What can I do for ev­ery­one else?’ It’s about re­ally ac­knowl­edg­ing that we’re co­ex­ist­ing to­gether with the peo­ple around us and with na­ture.

Na­ture is a big theme for this al­bum, es­pe­cially the dam­age that we’re do­ing to the planet. Is this something that worries you?

I think about it a lot, es­pe­cially now that we know so much. We are in­vent­ing new, much more en­vi­ron­men­tally-friendly ways of do­ing things all the time, and we al­ready have a good replacement for plas­tic wa­ter bot­tles. We have the tools, but peo­ple refuse to use them, which re­ally frus­trates me. We have no ex­cuses any­more be­cause we have the knowl­edge, the in­tel­li­gence, the money, the power. We have ev­ery­thing ex­cept for the will, maybe, or the en­ergy to do it.

I think some peo­ple find it hard to think that far into the fu­ture. If it’s not an im­me­di­ate threat, they don’t care. But it will come even­tu­ally.

It will come, and maybe within our life­time, be­cause things are al­ready hap­pen­ing, and we are re­ally dam­ag­ing the planet. I think in gen­eral, our nat­u­ral way is to be em­pathic and to care, be­cause I be­lieve we are good. That’s what I have to be­lieve. But to give ex­tra meaning and ex­tra per­spec­tive to your life, and to be a part of something bitter than your­self – that will change us. It makes us happy, I think, to be a part of something bitter than us, to re­alise we are part of a team. It’s this beau­ti­ful thing that hap­pens when we fight for something that should be im­por­tant to us all. We have a choice now: Will we be the gen­er­a­tion that de­stroyed the world, or will we be the gen­er­a­tion that saved it? That’s what I care about right now.

You clearly have a re­ally strong con­nec­tion with na­ture – why do you think that is?

Well, I didn’t like school, I al­ways knew I was different, I didn’t know where I fit in – all of that shit. I found a lot of com­fort in my­self and I was my best friend, but peo­ple didn’t un­der­stand me and I felt like it was my fault – and for all the peo­ple out there who feel the same, the world is so much bitter than what you think, and one day you’ll go out and you’ll be able to give the world something spe­cial that hasn’t been given be­fore, that’s why peo­ple like us are made. So I didn’t know where I be­longed, but I knew when I was in na­ture. When I was there I felt like I was given time to be a philoso­pher, I dis­cov­ered the power of my own mind, and I fig­ured out my problems. I re­alised what I could change and what I couldn’t change, and it re­ally made me a bet­ter and hap­pier hu­man. I’m very in­spired by that, be­cause what na­ture has given to me, I want to give to peo­ple who don’t have na­ture on their doorstep as I had. I think that’s the biggest in­spi­ra­tion I want my mu­sic to of­fer peo­ple, that sanc­tu­ary and the feel­ing of be­ing safe and at home. Safety is such an im­por­tant emo­tion that isn’t ob­vi­ous to a lot of peo­ple.

Do you find it quite di cult to nav­i­gate things like so­cial me­dia and stream­ing, which are ob­vi­ously so im­por­tant for artists to em­brace now?

Yeah, I do. I find it re­ally over­whelm­ing, ac­tu­ally. It’s hard to have ac­cess to ev­ery­thing all the time, be­cause then ev­ery­thing loses some of its value, it just be­comes noise, and it be­comes hard to define what’s pre­cious. I don’t re­ally use lots of stream­ing ser­vices, be­cause I don’t like hav­ing ev­ery­thing avail­able. I like buy­ing what I want and I lis­ten to that again and again. I of­ten take long pe­ri­ods off, which I think is healthy. There was a time in the be­gin­ning where my fans, or my sup­port­ers – the word fan is such a weird word, be­cause we’re all just peo­ple who love mu­sic – they would make so­cial me­dia pages, and they would write things like, ‘Sorry I haven’t been ac­tive lately, I have so much to do’, and it just broke my heart. Why would you say sorry? Who cares? It’s lovely that you want to share things, and you have things to say, but don’t feel guilty. So I also try to spread that to my­self and oth­ers, that it’s im­por­tant to take time away. Even if you have art to share, it be­comes bet­ter if you’ve been out­side and got­ten the in­put that will help you do something amaz­ing. You need that time off. It’s re­ally im­por­tant.

You’ve spo­ken about hav­ing a girl­friend in the past. Do you iden­tify as part of the LGBTQ com­mu­nity?

I haven’t re­ally thought about it be­fore, but yeah, I guess I have to say that I do. I knew that it was my right to love who­ever I wanted to love, and I’m very pas­sion­ate about that. I’m very sensitive to reading the news, I find it very dif­fi­cult, and some­times they try to fool us and make us think that the world is such a hor­ri­ble, dan­ger­ous place be­cause peo­ple like to read about aw­ful things, but it’s not. The world is re­ally good. Hu­mankind is such a com­pli­cated and aw­ful and beau­ti­ful cre­ation, and it just blows my mind some times... and then I re­mem­ber that we have love. Some­times you fall into a hole, and you ques­tion ev­ery­thing that’s go­ing on, but ev­ery time I re­mem­ber we have love, and that’s go­ing to save us all one day. Ev­ery­one who brings hate to­wards the LGBTQ com­mu­nity, they will die, but love will not die. So it’s al­most not even worth lis­ten­ing to them. They try to pick a fight against love, which is quite ridicu­lous, be­cause they will never win. As long as peo­ple have love in them, love will ex­ist.

We’re mov­ing to­wards a world where la­bels don’t mat­ter as much any­more, and peo­ple can just be them­selves. I feel like that ties in very well with you as an artist.

I think so too. But also I think if peo­ple want to define them­selves be­cause it strength­ens their sense of com­mu­nity or be­long­ing, that’s fine. There can be many rea­sons why peo­ple want to define them­selves, or define something un­de­fin­able. If some­one wants to define me or put me in a box, that’s fine, be­cause you can have feet in all the boxes. But I don��t feel like I have to define any­thing about my­self, and it’s so gor­geous the way we are mov­ing to­wards that free­dom. I think if you go back a long, long time ago in the ages of gods and monsters, we were even more open. We’ve been there be­fore, where sex was sex, and love was love, and ev­ery­thing was just about feel­ing good, be­cause that’s quite simple re­ally. It’s very beau­ti­ful and it al­lows peo­ple to truly be­come fan­tas­tic, be­cause peo­ple are given no roles, they are just free, and then truly amaz­ing things can happen.

Your song Queen­dom is very much about fe­male em­pow­er­ment, but it also seems like a queer an­them...

Oh ab­so­lutely, that was the seed of the flower, it was the main in­spi­ra­tion behind it. I don’t think we can save the world be­fore we know our value, and it’s hard to know your value when some­one is try­ing to tell you that what you are is not right – that’s so de­struc­tive and so point­less! So it’s very im­por­tant for me that peo­ple know their worth, and their potential. When peo­ple feel ac­cepted they be­come so good. I’m re­ally pas­sion­ate about Pride, it’s very im­por­tant to me, be­cause it’s such an ob­vi­ous bat­tle. It’s very ob­vi­ous for me to know that I’m on the right side of his­tory, and it’s so easy to be pas­sion­ate about it when I know that we are right.

You’re al­ready work­ing on your next al­bum. Will that be Step Three, or something en­tirely differ­ent?

I will re­lease a Step Three at some point, one day. I haven’t told any­one that be­fore! I’m very ex­cited. But for what I will do next, I’ve told you a lot about it al­ready in track eight, A Different Kind Of Hu­man. That tells you quite a lot about where I will be go­ing, and I’ve hid­den some hints here and there. I know the ti­tle, I have the order al­ready, I know the con­cept – and I’ve al­ready started. I ac­tu­ally started in Jan­uary. I feel like I can’t rest, I can’t sleep. Some­times I find it hard to fall asleep be­cause I have ideas, and I get adren­a­line from the thought of mak­ing new songs. I just want to make mu­sic, and I’m re­ally mak­ing sure that I have the time now that I’m so hungry for it. One day, a time will come where I don’t want to make mu­sic, I’ll want to do something else, but for now I’m re­ally grab­bing the chance. It’s very fun.

#aurora #aurora aksnes #interviews #step 2

[hrina]

Hi cass! I know ur busy rn with exams and work but i realllly want to read a blurb where youre giving harry a blow job and making him lose his fucking minddd where hes moaning so much and writhing and cant think straight UGH god please i havent been able to find one oddly enough

i technically finished this on thursday but i edited it tonight and i gotta say, im pretty happy with the finished result! i hope u are too, love :’) here’s my inbox (if u wanna leave me some feedback, it means the absolute world) and if u like this, here’s my masterlist ! 

also, this is considered a blurb even tho it’s actually 2.8k words but...the more the merrier! pure smut and a tiny bit of fluff bc who doesn’t love that. enjoy!

You’re in a mood. 

It’s not a bad mood, per say. 

It’s the kind of mood where you’re feeling overwhelmed. Where you’ve been thinking about Harry, and how sexy and mysterious and dumb and goofy he is, and you’ve been hit by the urge to love on him. The kind of mood where your heart is just so full of affection, and you know that you’re not able to use words to properly convey the sentiment.

You don’t know what Harry’s doing right now. Probably downing the last of the holiday eggnog, if your guess is correct. Your finger hovers over the call button on the screen of your phone as you debate whether or not this excuse is tangible enough to get him over to your place. Eventually, the ache in your chest (and between your legs) wins out.

“Hello, darlin’,” he picks up on the third ring. You smile unthinkingly–you could listen to the slow drawl of his voice for eons. 

“Hi,” you say, “Are you busy?”

“Jus’ finishin’ up some leftovers,” he replies, and you chuckle quietly. You know him well.

“Do you wanna come over?” you ask, holding your breath. 

“Sure,” he says immediately, and your cheeks hurt because of the size of your grin. You play with the hem of the pink knit sweater adorning your body (it’s a size too big, and Harry loves the way the sleeves of the fabric drape down your arms. “Y’got little sweater paws!” he usually coos before kissing you sweetly.)

“Why?” Harry’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you shrug, “I’m just…in a mood.”

“Oh?” his voice rises an octave, and you can nearly feel his cheeky smirk through the phone. You roll your eyes, even though his assumption–as naughty as it is–is entirely correct.

But he doesn’t know that.

“Shut up, you pervert,” you shoot him down, and he lets out an affronted squawk. The sound makes you laugh, and you sit your phone a bit more securely against your ear before speaking again. “Okay. So I’ll see you in twenty?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he quips happily. You bid your goodbyes before hanging up. As soon as the call is over, you’re rushing into the nearest washroom to make sure that there’s nothing in your teeth and that every hair on your head is set perfectly in place. 

When Harry knocks on your door twenty minutes later, you have to remind yourself not to rush towards the sound. You wait a whopping five seconds before your hand is closing around the knob and you’re welcoming him inside.

He looks really fucking cute. He’s wearing those Vans that he’s been enjoying as of late, and a pair of grey sweatpants. Your eyes drift up to his torso, taking in the black sweater with pink print over the breast, and you have to stifle a giggle–of course he’d be wearing his own merchandise.

“Hello, darlin’,” he smiles at you, cheekily repeating the same greeting that he had uttered over the phone. You step closer to him as he toes off his sneakers, leaning up and trying to sneak in a kiss. Except he’s not anticipating the action, so your lips end up bumping against his chin instead.

“Sorry,” you snort, and he chuckles quietly. His right hand curves around the nape of your neck, and he guides you up for a proper kiss. 

“So,” he mumbles against your mouth, smirking at you when you finally pull away, “Why did yeh need me to come over, hmm?” 

You correct him. “I didn’t need you to come over. I just asked if you wanted to hang out.”

“Please,” Harry says, rolling his eyes teasingly, “Practically begged me, you did. ‘Harry, can you come keep me company? I’m so lonely without you!’”

His voice rises an octave as he mimics you, and you shove gently at his chest, your jaw dropping. “You know what, I changed my mind. You can leave.”

“Fine,” he shrugs, grinning devilishly. A moment later, he’s slipping his feet back into his shoes and beginning to turn back towards the door. He’s stopped when you reach for the sleeve of his sweater, tugging on the fabric lightly and ushering him closer to you.

“No,” you say, a coy smile playing on your lips. You’ve abandoned your little performance, because seeing his devious smile is enough to remind you of why you’d called him over in the first place. “C’mon. Stay. Like I said: I’m in a mood.”

“I dunno, love,” Harry pretends to think about his options and tries to conceal a smirk, “Y’were awfully rude.”

In response, you simply lean up and reattach your lips, catching his bottom one between your teeth and nipping on it softly. Harry makes a surprised rumble in the back of his throat, but the sound eventually melts into something similar to a sigh. Your hands find their way to his chest, balling up the material of his crewneck and holding him close to you. Once you’re sure that you’ve successfully kissed the banter out of him, you pull back with tinted lips and a sultry expression on your face.

Harry’s mouth is still puckered slightly, his eyes clouded with awe. You take a step back, and he follows you with a step forward, his hand shooting out reflexively to clamp around your waist and keep you close. The action makes you giggle. 

“You’re–,” Harry’s breathless from the kiss, his lips parting as he finally understands the reason you’d called him over, “–You’re in a mood.”

“Mm-hm,” you nod, your fingers finding the nape of his neck and playing with the small curls that are trying their best to grow out. You give him an innocent flick of your eyes, and before you can register what’s happening, he’s got one hand in your hair and another down your pants. 

“Jesus!” You gasp when his fingers find your budding clit with little to no preamble. Harry knows your body quite well, considering that the pair of you have only been together for a few months (five months and sixteen days, actually, but you’re not keeping track).

Harry shakes his head, tilting your chin up so that he can lick and kiss at the skin of your throat. “’S not my name, love.”

“Shut up,” you choke out, your eyes fluttering shut as he rubs tight circles against your clit through your underwear. Your knees are quivering, and you feel as though they’ll give out on you any second now, but Harry’s got you pinned to the wall with his hips, and you can feel a slight bulge in his jeans pressing against your upper thigh. The sensation reminds you of why you wanted him here in the first place.

“No,” you mumble, your hands finding his shoulders and giving him a light push. Harry makes a noise of surprise, stepping back and gazing at you with confused eyes.

“Wanna suck you,” you tell him before he has the chance to question you. His breath hitches in his throat, and he squeezes his eyes shut as a pained groan falls from his lips. You swear he would have doubled over if not for your arms snaking around his waist.

“Fuck…really?” he asks, running his fingers through his hair and tugging at the roots. You whimper in affirmation.

You don’t suck him off too often. His cock is quite big, and you can only go a few minutes before your jaw starts to ache. Tears always end up spilling from your eyes, and your voice is always guttural and hoarse the next day. Because of this, blowjobs are an activity that is reserved only for special occasions. Harry doesn’t really mind, though. If he’s being honest with himself, he much prefers being between your legs instead.

“Okay,” Harry opens his eyes, throwing a thumb over his shoulder, “Couch?”

“Yeah,” you agree, your stomach churning with glee.

Seconds later, you’ve got him sprawled out on the sofa, his legs spread wide and his sweatpants pooling at his ankles. You can see the defined outline of his cock curving to the side in his boxers, and his sweater is rucked up a bit to show the ferns inked into his hips. You press a kiss to the matching tattoos, peeking up at him and reveling in the way he gulps.

“Wanted you since I woke up,” you mumble, and Harry’s pupils seem to dilate even further than they already had.

“Yeah?” he grunts. His right hand reaches out to cup your cheek, stroking your face gently as he gazes at you with adoration and lust swirling in his eyes. “Wanted me t’stretch those pretty lips?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod, shuddering at his words. Harry smirks down at you, opening his mouth again.

“Y’like it when I talk to you like that, hmm? Like t’be dirty.”

“A bit, yeah,” you say meekly, hooking your fingers into the elastic waistband of his briefs. Harry hisses when you slowly pull them down, exposing his cock to the cool air of the room. You wrestle with the fabric for a few seconds, satisfied only once his underwear have finally joined his sweatpants. You then look back up at where his cock is laying against the exposed skin of his stomach. Harry sighs when you run your fingers along the sensitive parts of his inner thighs.

“Can I?” you ask, even though you know the answer that he’s going to give.

“Fuck,” Harry curses, because the way you ask for permission never fails to make him throb, “Yeah, yeah, love. Go on an’ get it.”

That’s enough for you to grasp his cock daintily, angling the tip so that you can dip your head down and give a long, broad lick over the head. Harry’s hands fly to your hair, a strangled groan falling from his lips as the first taste of precum bursts onto your tongue. 

The sound only encourages you, and you wrap your lips around his tip, running your tongue over the tight, red skin. Harry sighs, his fists clenching in your hair as you move down and steadily take more into your mouth. You haven’t been able to take him all the way yet (at least, not without gagging), but it’s something that you’ve vowed to work on whenever you decide to treat him. 

(And in your weaker moments, you may or may not have practiced on a banana a few times, but honestly, that’s something that he doesn’t need to know.)

And honestly…how could you not? He looks so damn cute, with his sweater laying crookedly across his abdomen and his cheeks flushed a faint shade of pink. His lips are parted in awe as he watches you hollow your cheeks and give a few gentle sucks, easing your way into far more intense territory.

“Fuckin’ love this mouth, y’know that?” Harry whines, a hand slipping down from your hair and cupping your jaw. “Always so good t’me, pet...always do me over so well.” 

His thumb rubs at the corner of your lips tenderly, and you angle his cock in your mouth so that he can feel the tip pressing against your cheek.

“Bloody minx,” he gasps, the muscles in his stomach clenching as though he’s just been shot, “Gonna be the death o’ me.”

You whine at his words, sending vibrations through his dick, and Harry swears that he can feel them resonating across his entire body, seeping into his bones. His toes curl in his socks, and you pop off of his cock, holding it upright and licking a fat stripe up his shaft.

“Jesus,” Harry whispers to himself, trying to keep his eyelids from drifting shut. You smile and gaze up at him with twinkling eyes, your mouth quirking to the side teasingly.

“Not my name,” you quip, repeating his previous words. Harry chuckles breathlessly, shaking his head at your antics. His low laugh quickly melts into a moan, though, when you let your tongue trace over his balls gently. He throws his head back against the couch with a loud thump, and you detach yourself for a moment to check on him.

“You okay?” you ask, genuine concern laced through your voice. Harry groans, nodding his head quickly and peering down at you. The sight that greets him nearly has him in tears.

Your eyes are hooded and hazy, hair falling into your face. Your lips are puffy and darker than normal, and there’s a thin strand of saliva still connecting your mouth to his cock. Harry whimpers painfully, and your eyes widen when you feel his cock actually jerk in your grip.

“Fuck, you’re–you really want it, huh?” There’s surprise and awe woven in between your words.

“You’ve no idea,” Harry’s voice is high-pitched and reedy, and he honestly thinks that he’s going to start sobbing if you don’t get back on him soon. “Please, love, please just–’m so hard, need yeh to just–that’s it, there we go…” 

He sighs in relief when the head of his cock disappears past your lips once more. You’re sucking with fervour now, determined to get him to cum. You’ve had a taste of him–of the way his abdomen clenches spasmodically, of the pleading words dripping from his mouth like hot syrup, of the heady and salty liquid that bubbles at the tip of his dick. All of it spurs you on, encourages you to take him further into your mouth until he’s brushing the back of your throat and you’re desperately breathing through your nose to avoid choking. 

“Fuck!” Harry yells the word brokenly, and then you’re nearly gagging when you taste the first spurt of his cum. You stroke a particularly prominent vein with your tongue, feeling it throb lightly as Harry empties his load inside of your mouth. He’s looking down at you, your gazes locked as you take it all (just how he likes it), with watery eyes and a spit-slicked mouth and a sore throat as proof.

You continue to swirl your tongue around his shaft as you feel him begin to soften, before tilting his cock to the side so it rests against the inside of your cheek. Harry watches with wide, fucked-out eyes as your throat bobs, indicating that you’ve swallowed. 

“Fuckin’ amazing, you are,” he babbles out the praise, staring down at you and running his hands over every inch of you that he can reach. His fingers weave through your hair, then rub against your temples, then your cheeks, then the corners of your lips. 

He watches as his cock slowly slides from your mouth. You press a kiss to the shiny head, and Harry sobs from the sensitivity. The sound makes you giggle as you begin to pull his boxers back up his legs, setting his softening cock down against his right thigh.

“C’mon, handsome, help me out,” you murmur when Harry refuses to lift his hips and allow you to slide his underwear back into their rightful place. He lets out a moan of complaint, covering his face with his hands and lethargically shaking his head.

“Can’t move,” he whines, “Sucked the fuckin’ life outta me, pet.”

You snort, abandoning your efforts in favour of scrambling up and straddling his waist. You reach for his wrists, tugging on them gently so that his hands are no longer shielding his eyes. Harry slowly maneuvers your fingers, intertwining them with his and pressing soft, lingering kisses to the back of your hand.

“You’re incredible, y’know that?”

“Am I, now?” you tease, smirking at him. Harry nods, his eyelids fluttering slightly, and you can’t help but to feel a warm flood of pride wash over you. You’d made him lose his damn mind, made him cum so hard that he was about to fall asleep right in front of you.

“Yeah,” Harry sighs, snapping you from your thoughts, “Incredible, amazing, unreal…all o’ that stuff.”

“That’s very sweet,” you tell him, stroking his jawline tenderly and beaming down at him. “Thank you.” 

Harry returns your smile (albeit, his is a bit more sleepy) before melting a bit further into the cushions of the sofa. “Can we jus’…stay like this fo’ a bit? Please? I’ll fuck you afterwards. Promise yeh.”

You have to stop yourself from laughing, gnawing on your lip to keep the sound inside. “Sure, Har.”

“You’re the best,” he mumbles, his head tilting to the side as he drifts further and further away from consciousness. You watch him lovingly, pursing your lips as you try to hold back a smile. His eyes are shut, nostrils flaring as his breathing begins to even out. The last thing he mutters to you makes you giggle quietly into your palm and wonder how you ended up with someone who is just so damn cute.

“Tha’ was…was much better than leftovers.”

#anon #answered #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles drabble #harry styles fanfiction #there i hope u guys liked this!!! and hopefully this'll get me out of my writing rut :D #harry writing

[gabzep]

A Marriage That Was Never Meant To Be (5)

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4

7 YEARS AGO

I folded a piece of paper into a triangle.  I place one tip on the table with my finger.  I scan the room real quick for the teacher; ok her back is to the class.  One, two, three and flick. Score!  Direct hit to the back of Peetas’ head, I stifle a giggle as I watch him flinch.

We use to sit together all the time but the teachers started to separate us for disrupting the class.  Mostly me, not that my grades were ever effected, I ace everything without even trying.  Class is so boring.  My mom’s medical books are more interesting then what they teach us here.

Peeta sits in the row next to mine two seats up.  I watch as he unfolds the paper reads the note, writes something on it and folds it back up.  Instead of throwing it back to me he passes it down the row.  Hilda hands it to me under the desk.  I unfold it to see his answer.

‘R U sure it’s K if I come over 2moro morning?  I won’t B cutting in2 UR play time w/UR BFF Delly?’  KE

‘OMG of course it’s K & how many times do I have 2 tell U she’s not my BFF U R!’ PM

I smile smugly at his reply.  It’s not that I’m jealous of Delly.  Well, ok maybe a little but he was my friend first.  When I met Peeta he didn’t have any friends.  His whole family’s life had changed when he was born ‘abnormal’.  The weekend he and Mr. Mellark came over so Peeta could be measured for his firstleg, Mr. Mellark had told us that when Peeta was born all their friends and some family started to distance themselves from them.  No longer inviting them to any of their social gatherings nor coming over to any of theirs.  So they just stopped socializing with most people from town.

Peeta said that once he realized they were being shunned because of him he felt guilty and would rather hide from everyone hoping they would forget he existed.  My dad told him there was nothing wrong with him, that it was the nonsense the capital was spewing and the people who bought into it that were the problem.  Mr. Mellark said he was so nervous for Peeta when he finally started school, thinking he might be bullied, how happy he had been to see Peeta had make some friends.

The day Delly became our friend, was also the first time I went over to Peeta’s house for a play date.  My dad had dropped me off at his house when we went into town to trade.  It was also the first time I met Mrs. Mellark.

She looked down her nose at me, turned to Mr. Mellark and said “Seeing as he’s going to have to live in the Seam one day, he might as well make friends with them now.”  She then shoved colored chalks into our hands and ushered us out the front of the bakery saying “Make as much noise as you want” she then went back inside with a smirk on her face.

Peeta had already mastered the use of his new leg and you almost couldn’t tell he was ‘abnormal’.  We ran around playing tag for awhile, and then sat down in the front of the bakery with our chalks to draw on the floor.  I saw Delly staring at us from across the way and could tell she wanted to play too.  I motioned for her to join us and as she was walking over her mom came out, grabbed her hand and tried to pull her back into the shoe shop.  Delly dropped to the floor and threw an epic tantrum right in the middle of the square.

“Why can’t I play with Peeta?” legs flailing, “I’ve always wanted to play with him but you never let me” fist pounding, “how come it’s ok for Katniss but not me, it’s not fair” and so on and so on.  It seemed to go on forever.  Delly’s dad finally came out of the shop and told Mrs. Cartwright to leave her alone.  That was it; Peeta had a second best friend.

Right as I was about to flick another paper at him the bell for lunch rings.  I grab my lunch bag and go over to Peeta.

“So what do you have planned for us tomorrow that I need to miss hunting with my dad?” I ask.

“It’s a surprise” he tells me.  I scowl at him, I hate surprises and he knows it.  He just grins at me.  “Come on Katniss you’ll love it, I promise.”

We sit down at our usual table; Madge and Delly are already there.  Mrs. Undersee and my mom are best friends so Madge and I grown up together.  We start to unpack our lunch.

“You girls know what he has planned for us tomorrow?” I ask them.  They shake their heads.  Peeta lays out slices of bread.

“I was going to ask you the same thing” said Madge “We thought you might know”.  I place pieces of sliced turkey meat and goat cheese on the bread.

“Nope, he’s being secretive” I say with a frown.  As he brings out the cookies and hands one to each of us.  I look at mine and it’s decorated with a Katniss flower.  “Wow Peeta, you’re getting really good at this” I tell him.  He beams at me.  I can’t help but smile back; he has such a passion for decorating.

Halfway through our lunch hour the sirens go off.  That can only mean one thing a mine accident.  My heart sank as the realization hits me dad.

“I have to get Prim” I yell.  I run to her class, Peeta right behind me.  She’s sitting at her desk, looking so tiny and pale, just waiting for me to get her as per our moms’ instructions if the sirens were to ever go off.  She jumps up, grabs my hand and the three of us run off to the entrance of the mines.

Our mom and the rest of our family from the apothecary are gathered around the district doctor as he coordinates the triage area.  Prim, my cousin Jasmine and I are assigned the minor injuries area.  My aunt Gina, my uncle Reed and my cousin Sage are assigned the urgent care area and my mom and grandparents get the priority miners section.  Peeta, Gale and several other volunteers work among us, handing out supplies as we call out what we need.

After what feels like hours my dad and Mr. Hawthorne are brought into the urgent section.  My mom trades places with my uncle so she can tend to them herself.  I let out a sigh of relief and go back to stitching Mr. Jones’s leg.

“There you go Mr. Jones, keep it bandaged and dry for 24 hours, after that wash it twice daily with soap and water and apply some ointment to help minimize infection” I hands him a bag of extra bandages and a clay pot of ointment. “Keep an eye out for swelling, redness, pus or bleeding which may mean it’s infected.”  He nods his thanks and his wife and kids come over to help him home.

I see Gale sitting by his father’s side as they work on him.  I wish I could be there too but I’m needed here and I don’t want to be in the way.  After a few minutes Mrs Hawthorne has to send Gale home with Rory and Vick.  He doesn’t want to but Vick is to upset and he won’t calm down.  I catch a glimpse of Peeta and notice he’s limping as he moves around gathering more bandages and supplies to take to my mom.

“Peeta” I call out to him “Come here when you’re done.”  He hands my mom the supplies and heads over to my area.  He keeps wincing as he puts pressure on his leg.  I feel tears stinging my eyes.  I can tell he’s trying so hard to hide the pain as he walks towards me.  He pulls me into his arms when he reaches me and takes me completely by surprise with a quick kiss on the lips, a kiss to comfort.  I blink away the tears.  This is the first time he’s ever initiated a kiss.  He usually tries to fight me off whenever I try kissing him.  Huh I have noticed that for the pass month now he hasn’t been trying that hard and then he’ll smile instead of frown when I manage to get one in.

“Was that ok?” he asks shyly.

“Yes, of course” I smile up at him. “But you need to rest your leg; you have been standing on it for far too long.”  I say as I direct him to a chair and have him sit down.  I guess Mr. Mellark thought the same thing because I see him walking to us and he has Peeta’s crutches.  He glares at his dad when he sees them.

“It’s either these or I carry you home” his dad threatens.  Peeta shakes his head and grabs his crutches. Mr. Mellark goes to talk to my mom and check on my dad.

“Thank you for all your help” I say.

“I just wish I could stay longer” he said.

“No, you have helped a lot, now you need to rest” I tell him and give him another hug.

“Goodnight” he says “I’ll stop by tomorrow to see how your dad’s doing, Ok?”

“Ok, Goodnight Peeta” I say and peck his cheek.

About an hour later I finally get a break and go over to Prim.  I’ve become a pretty good healer it’s taken a lot of hard work and determination.  But Prim at 7 and just starting on her training, is a natural.

“Katniss, you take over this area, since there are less miners coming in.  I’m going to go help in the urgent section.”  Jasmine said.  By the time Prim and I are finished we’re dead on our feet.  We grab a couple of blankets and go to a corner where we aren’t in the way.  My eyes close the minute my head hits the ground.

When I wake up I’m back in my bed.  At first I think it must have been a bad dream but as I pull back the covers I’m still in my school clothes and they are covered in coal dust and specks of blood.  It was real.  I get out of bed slowly trying my best not to wake Prim.  I rush out of the room; my dad and Mr. Hawthorne are on cots in the living room.  Mom and a very pregnant Mrs. Hawthorne, have fallen asleep on the kitchen table.

I tread softly over to my dad taking in all his injuries.  Several bad burns, cuts, and as my eyes drift down his body I spot his legs.  One ends above the ankle “Oh daddy, no” I whisper as tears start to roll down my face.  Just for a few minutes I will allow myself to cry.  They are alive that’s all that matters.  I look over at Mr. Hawthorne and one of his arms has also been amputated.  I take a deep shaky breath to calm down; I wipe the tears off my face, no more crying I tell myself.

The front door opens.  Gale, Rory and Vick walk in and come over to see their dad.

“You kids need to be quiet” said Mrs. Hawthorne.  I see my mom is awake too.

“We need to go hunting Catnip” Gale said. He’s looking at his dad with sadness.  “They are not going to be able to work for a while and we need to keep things up until they can.”  I look up at him even at 11 Gale it a lot taller than me.

“Ok, let me go get changed” my healers training is going to have to take a backseat from now on.  I go into my room and start to undress and pull out clothes from the dresser.  “Prim, wake up” I say as she starts to stir.  “You’re going to need to help mom”

“But your better than me” she said.

“You’re catching on quicker than I did at your age.  Dads in bad shape Prim.  I’m going to have to concentrate on hunting for now.” I tell her, as I feel the weight of responsibility drop on my shoulders.  He’s not dead I remind myself it won’t be forever. “Get up, get dressed and see if mom needs anything” I say.  She nods her head and starts to do as I say.

This is the first time Gale and I have been out in the woods alone.  We trek along working the snarl line.  Shooting at every rabbit and squirrel we find.  We’ve been out since dawn so by mid day we have a decent haul.  Not bad at all seeing as it’s a bitter January day.  As we make our way to the hob we talk about how we’re going to make this work.  We will go hunting before and after school and as much as we can on the weekends.  It’ll be hard work but we’re determined to keep our families fed until our dads get better.  The hob is packed today.  Some people ask about our fathers but since most have their own family members to worry about we’re able to finish up trading quickly enough.  We’re starved and tired by the time we get home.

Peeta’s here, I had completely forgotten he was coming over and he’s using only his crutches.  He must be in a lot of pain.  A wave of guilt washes over me. On the rare occasion that he over uses his leg he has to forgo the prosthetic and use just the crutches until his leg gets better.  He’ll normally stay home when he needs them like this but he must have been more worried about us than any embarrassment he might feel at being seen without his prosthetic on.  I should have made him stop earlier yesterday.  He’s about to get up from his chair when he sees me and I just shake my head and hurry over to him, bending down I give him a quick hug.

“Oh Peeta, I’m so sorry.  We should have been more careful” I say.  “Did mom take a look at it?” I ask.

“She’s been busy with your dad and Mr. Hawthorne plus others that have been stopping by” he tells me.

“Let’s go to my room” I say.  Dropping my game bag on the table and handing my mom the coins I made today.

“Katniss you need to eat” my mom says.

“Let me take care of Peeta first.  We’ll be right back” Peeta was about to say something but I just shake my head no.  He knows not to complain when I’m in healer mood.

I have him sit on the bed and I unlock and pull out the bottom drawer of my dresser.  I have extra jars of salve for Peeta saved in here.  I make these myself and learned never to leave then in my moms medicine cabinet because they’ll get all used up and only replaced when I make more.  I had my dad install a combination lock when I realized my mom was sneaking some.  I’m the only one you knows the combination.  No one messes with Peeta’s medicine and get away with it.

He has already rolled up his pant leg and I kneel down and start to massage the salve onto his stump.  “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be, just a little redness and some swelling should be fine by tomorrow.  Do you need more to take home” I ask.

“Ya, I hadn’t realized I had run out” he said sheepishly.

“How many times do I have to remind you that when you’re down to one jar to let me know?  I have 5 in here I’ll give them to you before you go home.” I say.  “Did you bring back any of the empty ones?”

He nods.  “You’re always taking care of me”

“Of course, you’re my best friend.  I’d do anything for you”

“Same here” he said with a smile.  I grab a towel and wipe off my hands.  I’m too tired for anything right now so I climb and lay down on the bed.

“Katniss, you need to eat” he reminds me.

“I need a nap first” I say with a yawn. I feel him shift on the bed and he takes me in his arms.  I rest my head on his chest.  The beating of his heart is lulling me to sleep.  “Stay with me?” I ask.  As sleep takes me under I hear him whisper.

“Always”

Also on FFN  AO3

#everlark #marriage law #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark

[a-splash-of-stucky]

Operation Soulmate | One

Pairings: Steve x Reader

Summary: Steve has a confession to make.

Warnings: Language, I think? Mention of a gay relationship.

A/N: for @marvelous-fvcks‘ writing challenge. My prompt was ‘Heart’. 

Operation Soulmate Masterlist

Steve is in a mood.

He’s been acting like an ominous storm cloud is hanging over his head the entire morning. It was noticeable when he came back from his run, but is now even more apparent, as he’s had time to stew in his thoughts for far too long. When Steve Rogers starts over-thinking things, it’s pretty fucking difficult to get his headspace back into somewhere positive. He’s stubborn like that.

You’re eating lunch together, sitting side-by-side at the kitchen island. Your attempts to start up a conversation with Steve are met by a brick wall — you’re getting nothing out of him besides the occasional grunt and some monosyllabic replies. Eventually, you stop trying, resigning yourself to an eerily silent meal.

Once you’ve cleared away the dishes and set them in the dishwasher, you lean against the counter and observe him. Steve is sat across from you, shoulders hunched and expression solemn. He’s twirling his glass in his hands, staring into it as if it has all the answers he’s looking for. You know that if you don’t intervene sooner rather than later, he’s either going to do something reckless to take his mind off things, or he’s going to let this weight bear down on his shoulders until it finally consumes him.

Most likely, both.

Tentatively, you walk around the island, coming up behind him and looping your arms over his shoulders. You rest your chin on top of his head as you cross your wrists in front of his chest. “Steve? What’s up, babe?” you murmur, using your finger to trace invisible patterns on his collarbone, “Something bothering you?”.

Steve makes a little noise of affirmation, but doesn’t bother to elaborate. He reaches up and brushes his thumb over the back of your hand, stroking it idly as the silence draws on. Though you can’t see his face, you can visualise his expression: brows knitted, corners of the mouth downturned and jaw tense. Waves of jumbled-up thoughts are practically radiating off of him.

After a while of you holding him, Steve finally exhales sharply. “It’s okay, Y/N. I’m fine,”.

“Liar,” you mumble, rubbing your cheek over his fine blonde hair affectionately.

That earns you a chuckle. “Yeah, guess you’re right. I don’t really wanna talk about it right now, though,”, says Steve, moving to get out of his chair

“But you will? Later?” you prompt, stepping back as you release him from your hold.

Steve smiles at you, but it’s a mere shadow of his real one, the edges of it strained and forced. “Later,” he promises, “I gotta go now, though. I promised Wanda I’d train with her this afternoon,”.

“Okay,” you say, leaning up on your toes to peck him on the cheek, “Have fun. See you,”.

—————————

You don’t see him for the rest of the afternoon. Avoidance, especially when it comes to emotions, is very much a Steve thing to do. You’d tried to work him out of this bad habit in the time you’ve been together, but the Cap’s as stubborn as a mule, and there’s not much you can change about him.

This mood he’s in is nothing new. Your relationship has been far from perfect in the two years that you’ve been together — it’s not easy for two individuals working so closely with each other to maintain a healthy balance between their work and personal lives. Especially with jobs as life-threatening as yours are.

The two of you find yourselves constantly bickering over mission-related maybes and what-ifs, worried about the health and safety of the other person; with Steve’s tendency to jump headfirst into danger without a second thought, you find yourself nagging at him more often than you’d like. In some cases, arguments have gotten so heated between you that neither of you can bear to be in the same room as the other person. On those days, Steve usually ends up crashing with Bucky, and Natasha or Wanda swings by your room for some much-needed girl talk. At some point though, you and Steve find a way to make it up to each other. No fight between you has ever gone unresolved.

But this funk he’s in—it’s different. Steve’s not angry with you. In fact, he’s not even angry per se, just…closed off. It’s like something is weighing heavy on his mind. As his significant other, you can’t help but wonder if it’s something that you’ve said or done recently.

As of late, your love story seems to have taken a turn for the worse. It’s like you’ve lost the spark that keeps your romance alive. You still love Steve dearly, but…things have happened in the last three years, and Steve is no longer the man you met on your first visit to the compound. The burden of being Captain America is heavier than it’s ever been before, his responsibilities and public image a deadweight he carries everywhere. Everyday is a constant uphill battle for him, so it’s no wonder that work has taken a toll on your relationship. And besides, you’re not the same woman either; you’re battle-hardened, now, shields up and more robust than ever. You still enjoy being with Steve, and the two of you still deeply care for each other, but if you’re honest with yourself, you have doubts that your romance will last for much longer.

And, knowing Steve, you figure that he’ll probably be too much of a gentleman to break up with you, if and when the need arises. That leaves you with the uncomfortable knowledge that one day, you’ll be delivering the bad news to him. It’s a depressing thought.

But first, Steve promised that he would talk to you, and a talk is what you shall have. Perhaps that will be enough to clear the air between you two, and, if you can find the courage to tell him how you feel, maybe you can both endeavour to rekindle the spark, reignite the fire in your relationship. With some effort from the both of you, maybe it’s possible for you to be as in love with each other as you were in those blissful first few months.

In the end, you come to the conclusion that stressing yourself out by speculating on the thoughts flying around in Steve’s head will do you no good. He promised to talk to you, and you fully intend on holding him to his word. For now, you need to occupy yourself to take your mind off things.

Half an hour later, you find yourself in the sprawling back gardens of the compound, doing some training of your own. You are an enhanced individual, the result of countless experiments and extensive testing run by a cult masquerading as a group of science-fanatics. They were hell-bent on re-creating and bettering the super-soldier serum, but did so by summoning dark energy in a series of demonic rituals. As a result, you’d come out of the ordeal with increased agility, stamina and strength — though nothing compared to what Steve had — in addition to the ability to manipulate wind. You’re able to create anything ranging from a gentle breeze, to gale-force gusts.

The focus of your session today is levitation — specifically, levitation of large objects. You don’t know how exactly they came about, but Tony has managed to amass a variety of large boulders, fallen trees, and even scrap metal, for you to train with. You focus on keeping the items in the air for as long as possible, refining your control of your powers.

After an exhausting, but rewarding couple of hours, you decide to call it a day and head back to the room you share with Steve for a shower. When you pick up your phone from the kitchen counter, you discover that Steve’s sent you a message.

SR: Going out to dinner and drinks with Sam. Don’t wait up.

You sigh inwardly, knowing that this is his way of avoiding a confrontation with you. Nonetheless, you text him back:

Ok. See u later.

And, for good measure, you add:

Don’t think ur getting off the hook so easily.

The rest of your evening passes without incident. Sweaty from your work out, you take a nice long shower, then dress in one of Steve’s shirts and a pair of leggings. Dinner consists of yesterday’s leftovers, eaten on the couch whilst watching re-runs of Gossip Girl.

Steve comes into the bedroom just as you’re climbing into bed.

“Hey,” he murmurs, giving you a wan smile as he heads to the bathroom. Steve presses a kiss to the top of your head when he brushes past you.

“Good time with Sam?” you ask, getting under the covers and fussing with the pillows for a little, trying to get comfortable.

“Yeah, it was good,” Steve replies, “Gonna take a shower now, ‘kay?”

“M’kay,” you mumble, pulling the covers over you and turning off your bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness, save for the sliver of light spilling in from the bathroom. Steve has left the door slightly ajar, and you find yourself fading in and out of sleep, lulled by the pitter-patter of water droplets hitting the tiles floor. You don’t know how much time passes, but some moments later, Steve emerges in a cloud of steam — that man loves his showers burning hot — with a towel slung low on his hips. Through half-lidded eyes, you watch him pad over to his dresser and pull out a pair of loose sweats to sleep in.

Steve dries his hair, then tosses the towel into the laundry hamper, before sliding into bed beside you and wrapping his arms around your body. You nuzzle your nose into the hollow of his throat and curl yourself around his larger form, breathing in the scent of his cucumber body wash. He’s warm and familiar, making you feel safe and secure.

Despite this, you can’t ignore the tension in his body. Though you’ve relaxed into his touch, Steve has not done likewise. For a while, the only thing you can hear is the steady thud of his heart beneath your ear, coupled with his deep, steady breaths. “I’ve got something to tell you,” Steve whispers. You wait patiently for him to continue, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought. It’s clear that he’s been building up to this moment for the entire day. “You’re…not gonna like what I have to say,”.

A sickening feeling settles in your gut, but you force it aside. “It’s okay,” you breathe, “I still wanna hear it,”.

Steve starts to run his fingers up and down your arm, a gesture he does subconsciously when he’s nervous like this. “I—I love you,” he says, “But…I also…love…someone else,”.

It feels like someone’s twisting a knife into your chest, stabbing you straight through your heart. Your mind kicks into overdrive, a million questions racing through it as you wonder who this second girl could be. Natasha? No, he respects her too much to let their current arrangement devolve into something romantic. It’s certainly not Wanda — she’s like a little sister to him. Maybe it’s another girl? From outside the compound, perhaps.

“Hey, hey,” Steve soothes, nudging your chin with his finger until you tip your head back to look at him. He chuckles softly, “I can hear you thinking from over here, sweetheart. Lemme finish a sec, okay?”. At your nod, he continues, “I haven’t…done anything about it, before you start wondering. I’d never cheat on you, baby, my ma raised me too good to do that,”

You snort. “Thank god for Sarah Rogers,”, you mutter.

Steve smiles, “Yes indeed,”. A pause, then, “Honey, I don’t think it’s fair for me to still be with you when I love someone else. I know you’ve noticed it — things just haven’t been the same between us in the last few months. And it’s not your fault, I don’t ever want you to think that. It’s—it’s me. It’s my fault,”. He chokes up at that last bit, and your already damaged heart breaks even more at the sound of his wrecked voice.

“Steve,” you chide, “Not everything has to be your fault, okay? Yes, I’ve noticed our relationship coming under stress, but maybe I could’ve tried harder—,”

“No—,”, Steve interrupts

“Will you let me finish?” you say sharply. Steve snaps his mouth shut and nods for you to go on. You stroke his cheek fondly. “Baby, I love you too. And that’ll never change. I care about you, and all I want is for you to be happy. And if you think you’ll be happier with this other girl, then I’ll—I’ll let you go,”. It’s hard for you to get the words out, but you manage to do it in the end. You try to inject as much sincerity into your voice as possible.

Steve frowns at you in confusion. “I could never be happier with another girl—,” he says.

“Well, if you say you love her, then clearly you can be happier—,”.

“No, you don’t understand, I—,”, Steve cuts himself off with a self-depreciating, mirthless laugh. “Who ever said it was a girl?”

“What!” you cry, sitting up in bed and looking at him in astonishment. It’s dark, but you know him well enough to guess that his face is a bright crimson hue, right now. “Steve—I—you’re gay? Why didn’t you—,”.

“Bisexual, actually,”, he corrects you.

You gape at him, utterly shocked. Taking your silence as your disapproval, Steve starts to shift uncomfortably. “Look, Y/N, if that’s too weird for you—,”

“No! No, it’s not,” you say, reaching out blindly for his hand. When you grab hold of it, you bring it to your mouth and brush your lips over the knuckles. Your next words must be chosen with care, because he’s so fragile right now, in desperate need of validation. “Stevie, I’m so happy you’re telling me this. I know how hard it must be for you. I support you, no matter who you choose to love, because you’re Steve, one of the nicest, kindest, most humble people on this earth,”.

“Aw, sweetheart, c’mere,” Steve mumbles, tugging you back into his arms and placing a sweet kiss on your lips. “You’re the best,”.

“I know,” you quip. “Now. This revelation begs the question: who is this mysterious man?”

An eternity of silence passes, Steve tensing up beside you as he steels himself to give you a name. “Bucky,”, he says quietly.

“Bucky?” you echo in disbelief. “Steve, have you always…?”

“Yeah,”, he croaks. Steve clears his throat and runs his fingers through his hair, turning to look at the ceiling as he talks to you. “Y/N, I’ve loved him ever since I was fourteen. I loved him before I even knew what love was. When I…came out of the ice, I thought I’d be able to forget about him with time. And then I met you, and I did, for a while, but now…” he trails off, lost in the pain of his own thoughts.

“What changed?” you ask gently.

Steve huffs out a breath. “He remembers more, now. He’s not the same Bucky I grew up with, but he’s more Bucky than he was when we first got him back. And…that’s messing with me,”.

“Oh, Stevie,” you murmur, snuggling a little closer to him. You’re surprised by how calm you are in the face of all this information. Steve has essentially just professed his love for his childhood best friend, which in turn leads you to conclude that some significant changes are on the horizon for the two of you. Truth be told, your subconscious had been expecting this talk for the longest time — well, not this talk specifically, but some version of it, at least. You knew that it was an inevitability, rather than a possibility. You’ll never know what exactly Steve and Bucky were before the universe cruelly tore them apart, but you know that whatever it was, it had to be something special. If Steve’s carried his love for Bucky in his heart all this time.

And special things deserve to be celebrated. They’re a rarity, after all.

You run your fingers through Steve’s hair, brushing the soft, slightly damp strands off his face. When you speak, your voice is barely louder than a whisper. “If he means that much to you Stevie, I’ll not stop you. I know you love him, and I’m not going to keep you away from that,”.

“You’re not mad?” Steve asks hesitantly.

“Mad?” you echo, “Why would I be mad?”

“I just told you that I’m in love with someone else!” he points out.

“Steve,”, you chuckle, “You’ve got a big heart. It’s bigger than your goddamn brain—,”.

“That’s probably true—,” he mutters darkly.

“—and even though you love Bucky, that doesn’t mean that you love me any less. I’m glad you told me this. Now we can work things out together,”. You hold your hand up to your mouth to stifle a yawn, sleep suddenly tightening its hold on you. “Not now, though,” you mumble, “I’m tired,”.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Steve murmurs, wrapping his arms around you and tucking you against his body, “Let’s sleep,”.

“G’night baby. It’s gonna be okay. We’ll work this out,”, you slur, eyelids already beginning to droop shut.

“Okay. I love you,”.

---------------------- Tagging people who might be interested: @hollycornish @rda1989 @awinterloveuniverse @aquabrie @onceuponahiddleston @bi-diana-prince @after-avenging-hours

Send me an ask or message if you want to be added/removed from the list :)

#amarvelousfvckingwritingchallenge #marvelous-fvcks #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #stucky angst #love confessions #my writing #reader insert fic #operation soulmate

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

10 Questions Tag 2 Times

So @the-literary-prince tagged me in a couple of these things, and I am Slow at Responding but I love answering questions, so I’m gonna do them all together all at once! Here we go:

1. Current favorite WIP? Oh ouch this is like trying to pick favorite birds it is too hard to do. I keep gravitating back to Angel Wings and to Average, Ohio, right now, so I guess those are toward the top of my list? But I’ve only ever written one thing so far that I didn’t intensely enjoy doing at the time, so there’s that, too.

2. Favorite trope? Yikes umm . . . does best frenemies count? Cuz I dig best frenemies. All over the place. All teh time.

3. Favorite childhood book/series? ANIMORPHS. One hundred percent. 

4. Do you drink tea while you write? Sometimes. Usually I start with coffee, if I write in the morning (which is my Best Writing Time). If I write after work, I do tea, or decaf. I do like to have a hot beverage near me though.

5. Do you have a lot of notebooks? We do not discuss the number of notebooks I own. (Yes, it is Too Many. Still working on filling them all. I’ll keep y’all posted.)

6. What was your weirdest OC like? O.o hrm. Good . . . question? Cuz I’ve got a world of superpowers like X-men, and I’ve got a world of superpowers like comic books more generally, and I’ve got a couple alien species running around, so . . . it’s hard to pick? One of my recentish faves is Big Horn, though, who is a six-legged purple nonbinary Moose. Big Horn is awesome.

7. Colorful ink pens or blue/black ink pens? Color-coded by story! Driscoll was purple in November. Lucius in March will be navy blue. Arterio and Alicia are cheapo black, Omaha is hot pink, Average is light blue (Terrwyn blue), Aschar is also purple, Razz is orange. Faultlines is greenish, when I’ve got them, or black when I don’t. The pens match the binders match the plot card Sharpies. It’s very organized and colorful and I love it.

8. Favorite genre? Fantasy! Sci-fi! Both! Yes!

9. Hand-writing or typing? Handwriting. It doesn’t hurt as much as typing since my surgery, and I like being able to disconnect and take a lil notebook and a pen with me instead of having to lug around my laptop and the internet connection that it entails. Plus then typing is Round One of edits.

10. Do you daydream a lot? Gosh almost always. That’s why I started writing, honestly--I’d get caught and in trouble for daydreaming in class, and I discovered if I wrote down my daydreams it looked like I was taking notes and paying attention. No regrets.

11. Who do you usually share your work with, if anyone? I’ve got a little circle I rotate stuff through. A couple really close friends (you know who you are), a couple good friends, frequently also my mother, sometimes my roommate’s mother. I do it in stages so I get feedback on drafts, because it’s a relatively small circle. But I do love feedback, so I’m bad at not sharing.

12. Do you listen to music while you write? Sometimes. I prefer silence to music, but music to ambient background noise. I make playlists for specific stories and characters, and then that becomes my background noise if I’m writing somewhere public.

13. Who has encouraged you most as a writer? Honestly, my parents. They’ve been so supportive for literal actual years, and I’m very blessed by it and them.

14. Who’s your favorite author? Help too many faves!! Victoria Schwab is my queen and has been for a while, but I also adore Scott Lynch’s work and Jim Butcher’s. And, y’know, K. A. Applegate.

15. Is there an idea you keep coming back to? Oh, Feathers Son, why won’t you leave me alone? Yes, yes there is. I’m listening to his playlist as I answer these, honestly, and in February I’m going to replot it and in March I’m going to write it. Hopefully the . . . fifth? draft is the charm.

16. Where is your favorite place to write? I can answer this now! I have a writing desk! In my own condo! Dedicated to writing and only writing!! Not homework, not general life things, but writing! It’s swell. I also have a soft spot for a couple specific coffee shops, Paneras, and libraries. Also, my parent’s deck. I haven’t been able to try our porch yet, but I’ll keep you posted in the spring.

17. What’s the last book you read? Fiction, Beneath the Sugar Sky by Seanan McGuire. It was phenomenal, per usual. I’m in the middle of Africa by John Reader, too. 

18. Have you ever done NaNoWriMo? Every year since 2007. And Book in a Week, once, and sometimes I make my own NaNos. I’m doing one in March, if anyone wants to join!

19. Do you plan your writing or just go wherever it takes you? I have turned into a hardcore planner. It helps me get stuff out of my head and down on paper, although recently I’ve found the right balance: I plan scene ideas, but let the scenes unfold on their own. So there’s definitely a plan, but there’s also breathing space. It works well for me.

20. Share a song from you WIP’s playlist? I just added “Wolves” by Sam Tinnesz featuring Silverberg to my Angel Wings playlist for March! I am the most stoked!! The wolves definitely needed a theme song, and this one is Perfect. I am so fucking excited I can’t wait.

Um. I guess this is the part where I’m supposed to come up with my own questions and tag writerly people? But . . . I don’t chat with many writerly people on here besides IRL friends and also Max, who is at the top. So . . . if you are a Writerly Person who sees this and would like to partake, pick a few of ur fave numbers and answer them and tag me? I wanna seeeee.

#the-literary-prince #text #tag games #darth-char #my writing #really if i have any writerly followers lurking out there say hi! #introduce urself! #i want more writing friends!! #my ask box is open and i'm down for messages or being tagged in shit or starting convos however makes you happy!

[astrofireworks]

the one in which sanha accidentally changes their entire house (and knk's too)

au masterlist

for @goddammitdanyul - buddy ur post it’s canon now~~~

It’s the hottest day in the whole history of ever, MJ swears. It’s the kind of sluggy day where all the energy in the world has been absorbed into the weather and nobody has any motivation to move or do anything at all, much less MJ. He’s been slumped over in the armchair by the window for the past hour, trying to seek coolness from the three Cooling crystals he stole from Bin earlier in the day.

Perhaps he should steal another one, a small voice at the back of his head says. It sounds a little like Sanha, so MJ chooses to ignore it. Also because going upstairs to Bin’s charms room requires Getting Up, though, something MJ’s unprepared to do.

And anyway he’s pretty sure if he moves from his spot in the armchair an MJ-copy made purely out of sweat would peel away from his body and remain in the exact same position he’s in now, twirling its salty, sticky finger around (increasingly ineffective) crystals.

Perhaps he could ask Sanha to do it… MJ tilts his head a single degree to the left and is greeted with the sight of Sanha, Soggy Noodle Extraordinaire, sprawled out nearly unconscious on the floor, kind of like that one soggy noodle that falls out of the colander by accident when you’re trying to drain a pot of pasta.

Jinjin? He raises his head, mildly more alert. Maybe he could wheedle Jinjin into asking Bin for him.

After a few seconds of scanning their living room, MJ flops his head back down on his arms. Damn Jinjin and his hardworking tendencies – MJ’s just remembered Jinjin’s hard at work in their garden outside, Cooling crystals hovering around his face and tucked into his gardening apron pocket.

How does he do it? MJ wonders, staring blankly at the road in front of their house. The heatwaves coming off the baked asphalt are enough to warp the entire road, making it seem like one of those visions that one guy from the Seventeen coven could cast. He can feel them from where he’s seated at the windowsill, indoors with the air-conditioning working overtime – how can Jinjin even function outside when he’s sweating from every pore?

“Hyung, I’m bored,” a whine comes from the noodle on the floor. MJ shifts from where he’s been staring at the road and pushes all weird thoughts out of his mind – if we sweat from our eyes would it be considered tears or sweat – in order to reply to Sanha.

He squints at the noodle, “Aren’t you supposed to be helping Rocky with his potion orders?”

“He’s taking a nap. Says it’s too hot outside and it’ll throw off the temperature of his potion or something like that, I wasn’t listening much after he told me to go.” Sanha rolls onto his side, slowly rolling a bottle of water on its side and flicking his finger at it.

“Also, Bin and Eunwoo are working on more Cooling charms – it’s all they’ve been doing the past two days and I didn’t want to third-wheel,” Sanha adds on, almost as an afterthought to the two still-silent, not-quite-yet-boyfriends upstairs.

There’s a moment of silence as they both watch the water change colour with each flick and then –

“Let’s play a game, hyung!”

MJ groans internally – he’s getting too old for this.

Nonsense, a voice in his head (sounding suspiciously like Jinjin), you told me yesterday you still felt fifteen.

I am fifteen, MJ argues with mind-Jinjin. One of Rocky’s hyungs told me that as long as you act younger you’ll look younger.

Mind-Jinjin snorts and offers, yeah, but then Jimin told him he acted too young right after.

MJ’s about to reply mind-Jinjin but he feels the bottle Sanha was toying with hit his shin and an annoyed Sanha go, “Oi, hyung, are you even listening to me?”

Oops, caught.

“What did you say?”

“What’s your favourite colour?”

MJ stares blankly at Sanha for a while – what goes on in that noodle brain?? – before slowly responding with a hesitant, “Purple?”

Sanha hums in agreement, and waves his hand in the air. Sunshine yellow magic spills out from his finger tips and wafts in thick clouds around the room, strangely reminiscent of the time Sanha tried to cook but somehow managed to burn the entire pot of rice to a crisp and set off the fire alarm, before seeping into the door cracks and into the window gaps and out of the house.

“Wait, what did you just do?”

Sanha beams slightly in MJ’s general direction (but mostly at the ceiling), “You’ll see.”

MJ waits with bated breath for three dangerously silent seconds – if there was anything wrong, Jinjin would run in screaming to confront them.

One.

 Two.

Thr-

“Hyung, what colours do you think your dads like?”

MJ heaves a sigh of relief when nobody bursts through the front door, then turns to Sanha – “Black, probably. They always wear black and white.”

“Yeah, but that’s because blood stains don’t show on black clothes.”

“I’ve never seen them use other colours though,” MJ considers. The only splash of colour in the entire KNK coven house was MJ’s room, MJ’s kitchen, and MJ himself.

“Huh,” Sanha responds.

Again egg yellow clouds tumble from Sanha’s hands, and MJ watches (with no small amount of envy) as they curl up from where Sanha’s lounged on the floor, around the armchair, around the television, around the lamps – then out, out and away.

“Sanha, what was that for?”

“What was what for?”

MJ resists the urge to toss Sanha’s bottle right back at his face. Just barely. “Your magic, you idiot-“

“I explained it just now! You just weren’t listeni-“

“Wait, wait, Sanha, shush, there’s someone coming-“ MJ flaps his hands in Sanha’s general direction, ignoring the younger’s protest that he wasn’t even making that much noise, thank you very much, the real noisy one is the one sitting right there in the armcha-

And sure enough, a red convertible rolls up right in front of the Astro house and stops by their curb. Two small, dainty figures step out of the car, and almost as if the temperature outside dropped 20 degrees, MJ’s view of the baked pavement stops being warped by heatwaves. Actually, now that MJ’s squinting, there seems to be small gusts of snow trailing in their wake, melting and almost sizzling in the hot sun instantly.

The two figures in everyday clothes, approaching their house? They’re definitely magic.

“Hyung, what’s up?”

MJ’s frozen slightly (pardon the pun), bright eyes peeking above clenched hands on the window sill. He doesn’t reply Sanha.

Magic users. Coming towards the Astro house.

Vaguely, he feels the air change as Sanha gets up from the floor to catch a glimpse through the window as well.

“Stay down,” MJ hisses at Sanha. “We’ve never seen them before; I don’t know if they can be trusted.” He doesn’t know if he should send Sanha up to Bin or down to Rocky first but right as he starts voicing it, he sees a flash of green apron and straw hat burst from his garden and straight at the two figures –

“Jinjin!” MJ leaps up from the armchair, sweat-copy MJ be damned. Jinjin stands no ground against magic users - he’s only a human, albeit one equipped with sharp garden pruning shears, and MJ sure as hell isn’t losing him to two witches with mysterious intentions.

 Wait.

He pauses, hand on the doorknob.

That’s definitely Jinjin’s laugh. MJ has all of Jinjin’s laughs carefully categorised in his mind, and this is one of them. The delighted giggle, not the slightly nervous laugh whenever Bin says some startling thing, not the amused snort whenever Sanha tries to pull one over on Jinjin, not the soft chuckle he reserves for when MJ and Jinjin watch dramas together. The oh-my-god-I-haven’t-seen-you-in-two-months-how-are-you delighted giggle.

Almost as if on cue, Bin flies down the stairs and past Sanha, running to the door at almost full speed, Eunwoo following close behind and yelling for Rocky to “get your ass upstairs, you lazy piece of rock, your favourite witch in the world is here”.

MJ steps out of the way right before Bin crashes into the door with a soft thud, still giggly and excited. He shares a confused look with Sanha before Bin swings open the door and they’re both stunned in place by the sudden hea-

Heat? It suddenly feels like 20 degrees, not the baking 40 degrees it was before. He sees the bewilderment spread across Sanha’s face, no doubt an exact reflection of his own.

Who are these witches?

Almost in answer, Rocky comes skidding to a stop right behind Sanha, doubling over and breathing heavily, sweat beading on his forehead.

“How do I look,” he demands, pushing his sleep-mussed hair away from his forehead and out of his eyes. Meeting only with perplexed looks from MJ and a weak, “Bloated?” from Sanha, he tsks and straightens his back before marching out of the house and is met with loud cheers from the five already outside.

Over the next couple minutes of hasty introductions and laughing and Rocky blushing way too much, MJ and Sanha come to learn that Doyeon is a weather witch and that she can create micro-climates; Yoojung is an elemental witch and can create things out of thin air, with the extra power of being able to control how many times Rocky blushes per minute. (Although MJ isn’t entirely sure if that last one was a witch power or a female power in general.)

It’s about five minutes’ worth of the eight of them standing in Doyeon’s nice, cold bubble, laughing and generally being happy before Yoojung asks innocently, “So when did you guys decide to repaint the house?”

Everyone turns away from where they’ve been facing the two girls to look up at their coven house, previously a weathered white and now a very violent shade of vivid plum with specks of space violet. Seungjun sticks his head out of his now very black house, vaguely confused, mildly startled and blinking in the bright light.

Everyone freezes.

Sanha runs for his life.

#astro #astro fic #astro coven au #i'm so sorry this ended so shittily #i literally had no idea how to end it #D: #but it's been sitting in my drafts for so long i needed to finish it #also im sorry i couldnt work in snuper D: #i couldnt figure out how to make sanha wreak that much havoc all at once #poor sanha #legend has it that he's still running for his life #mj's pleased though he really likes those shades of purple #also !! has anyone watched seongwoo's short film #i love it #he's amazing #i love kim hyunseo's too #i thought that shit was wild #i love fantagio in general #me official fantagio trash tm #look at me falling into iteen girls and surprise u #in other news surprise u's fancafe is open #me: official fantagio trash that applied and got in #knkstro #vivi shoots

[avecorviidae]

Fic: Aubade - Chapter One

Fandom: Mob Psycho 100 Rating: M Relationship(s): Kageyama Ritsu/Suzuki Shou Word Count: 4196

Ao3 Link

Ritsu takes the overnight train from Grain City. His mother had told him to take the day train, given that they both knew he wouldn’t sleep on the ride home, and it would be better for him to arrive in the evening and go straight to bed, instead of arriving at dawn and spending all day trying not to fall asleep. She was probably right, but Ritsu was more or less an insomniac anyways, and night trains tended to be far less crowded, so. If he didn’t have to sit anywhere near a small, loud child, it would all be worth it.

He leans against a stone pillar on the platform and waits for the train to pull in. Despite the heavy summer air, the stone is cool at his back, seeping into his t-shirt and providing a pleasant contrast to the hot coffee in his hand. It should be cooling down a little soon, he thinks, staring at the sky, painted in soft pinks and oranges that darken into a deep red where the sun has disappeared behind some distant mountains. He cranes his head in the other direction to see where inky blue is starting to appear on the horizon, fading abruptly into the soft light of the sunset in broad strokes. It reminds him of the time he and Mob had found their mother’s watercolours when they were little, and decided to ‘decorate’ Ritsu’s bedroom walls. He spots a couple of white pinpricks in the distance, and distracts himself with trying to figure out if they’re stars or planes until the train pulls into the station, stopping at the platform with a shuddering sigh.

The only other people who would take an overnight train all the way to Seasoning City are a small crowd of salarymen making a commute for work, and Ritsu is infinitely thankful that they all seem to be as tired and antisocial as he is, because he finds himself alone in a passenger car aside from one dead-eyed guy in a suit who sits as far away from Ritsu as he’s physically able. Ritsu dumps his backpack onto the seats across from him and sits down, careful to hold his coffee steady as the train starts to pull out. He’s found that he can usually pack light when he’s going home for breaks, so his backpack just has the essentials. His wallet, phone charger, laptop, toiletries, a couple of books, a jacket, and some clean underwear are all he really needs to grab. While he knows that his brother’s old bedroom has been converted into a sewing room of sorts since he moved out, his mother has been loathe to change Ritsu’s room at all, so all of his clothes and such will still be waiting for him at home.

He settles back in his seat and lets himself stare out of the window as the train speeds up, until the station and the outskirts of Grain City fades away and the landscape turns into an indistinct blur. After a while, he remembers to pull out his phone.

TO: SHIGEO Got on the train, I should get into town early tomorrow

His phone buzzes with a response about a minute later.

FROM: SHIGEO Ok, be safe! You should try to get some sleep :0 If you tell me when youre getting close, me and Teru can pick you up at the station

TO: SHIGEO Im going to get here pretty early, youll probably still be asleep But thanks You should sleep too, ill see you tomorrow

FROM: SHIGEO Ok, see you!! <3

Ritsu wrestles with his pride for a few moments before sending back a ‘<3’ and shoving his phone back in his pocket.

He lets himself sit for another while, sipping on his drink and grimacing. Eugh. Cheap train station coffee is only tolerable while it’s too hot to taste. Still, he’s spent money on this, so he’s committed now. Night’s fallen quickly, and now when he looks out of his window, all he can see is murky blue, and the vague lights of some buildings in a city off in the distance. They’re just far enough outside of the city that Ritsu thinks he might be able to see the stars, except that the glare from the thin LED strips above the window is reflecting off of the glass too much to see anything but his own face.

A chill settles over the compartment. Not a bad one, or a particularly ominous one, but without the sunlight, the speed of the train and the air conditioning is enough to make him shiver in his thin shirt, reach over to grab a hoodie from his bag.

He shouldn’t leave himself alone with his thoughts, he knows, even as he continues to stare off at nothing. He’s notoriously introspective at this time of night, and he knows he’ll work himself into a panic if he just starts thinking, about this past year and himself and what he even wants to do… He shakes himself out of it. Come on, dumbass. You’ve got ten hours in here, let’s make it past the ten minute mark without dealing with this again. He should distract himself. Read, or play on his phone, or something, but as per usual, he can’t really bring himself to drag himself out of his daze. It’s an oddly comforting feeling, his mind retreating to the point that he barely feels real, like nothing actually exists in the pitch black beyond the window.

Time passes haphazardly, like it’s having trouble squeezing into the stale air of the compartment. His eyes lazily trace patterns on the ugly fabric of the chair across from him for what feels like minutes but could be hours, and despite the caffeine, he finds himself nodding forward, eyes blurring and drifting shut. By the other door, the nondescript businessman has pulled out his laptop and has been typing something for an indeterminate amount of time, and he latches onto the steady tap tap tap tap of the keys, the rapid taptaptaptap when he’s hitting the backspace, turns it into white noise in his mind that blocks out his actual thoughts.

He almost, almost jumps when his phone vibrates in his pocket again. FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) yo r u awake

TO: YOUR FAVORITE ;) Yes. what do you want, shou? FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) omg why r u up its like fuck in the morning s l e e p anyways teru says ur on ur way back to seasoning u didnt drop out right

He squints at the text, momentarily confused, until a glance at his phone’s clock informs him that it’s almost one in the morning. He must’ve actually fallen asleep for a while. He has a sneaking suspicion that the businessman over there has a very, very close deadline.

TO: YOUR FAVORITE ;) I told you what date i was coming back home a month ago. You know. When i planned this trip. Shockingly, shou, college students get summer break too.

FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) i was busy!!!! i forgot!!!!!! how long r u in town :3

TO: YOUR FAVORITE ;) Two weeks. Im just dropping by to see my family and sleep for a while, really.

FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) and get a haircut

TO: YOUR FAVORITE ;) And get a haircut.

FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) anyways it is like 1 am u should be sleeping

TO: YOUR FAVORITE ;) So should you. I’m on a train, what’s your excuse?

FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) :p

Ritsu snorts quietly. Stunning argumentation as always, Suzuki.

He wonders absently if Shou will be around. He’d stayed a couple of cities over for high school, but he’d started travelling as soon as they’d graduated. Apparently, there’d been some overseas business of his father’s that he had to take care of now that he was eighteen, so Ritsu hasn't seen him at all this last year, even during Christmas break. It hadn’t stopped Shou from texting him almost nonstop, however, regardless of different timezones. He wonders if Shou’s even in the country right now. Is it really worth it to get his hopes up, though? He’s already excited to see his brother, and Teru and Reigen, and his parents, so there’s no point in being disappointed if Shou has business elsewhere. They’re not kids anymore, it’s stupid of him to expect Shou to drop whatever obligations or responsibilities he might have to show up in Seasoning City, just to see Ritsu.

His phone buzzes with a new message.

FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) hey do u know if ur mom still makes those rlly nice weird caramel cookie things i miss them deeply almost as much as i miss ur dumb face ive almost forgotten what ur angry frown looks like

—

He pauses at the front door, hand resting on the doorknob.

Auras are still… interesting, to Ritsu. Even despite six or so years of being able to use his powers, he still doesn’t really get the buzzing frequencies of energy that roll off of espers in waves, resonating with something in the back of his mind, like plucking on a violin string pulled too tight. He’d eventually gotten used to people’s auras, of course. His brother’s, he’d grown up with. Teru’s was a brainfreeze and a burn all at once, a rush of blood to the head that was strange, but not entirely unpleasant. Shou’s was, well. Shou. He hadn’t realized that places had auras as well. Standing in front of his house, though, he can feel it enveloping him like a blanket right out of the dryer, can feel it in the strange places that his powers seem to manifest, climbing in pinpricks up his arms and heavy at the roof of his mouth, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. It’s achingly, painfully familiar, and it’s only been a year, but he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed living in a place that’s lived and breathed psychic powers, that’s still imbued with them despite both of its resident espers moving out, and this house feels like home.

Mob is on him almost before he’s through the door, arms wrapped tightly enough around his shoulders to knock the breath out of him. Mob is only a few inches taller than him, but Ritsu is still struck with the feeling of being encompassed by his brother, and it feels in a sense similar to the aura of their house, but there’s something different, something uniquely Mob about it.

Ritsu lets himself enjoy it, hooking his chin over Mob’s shoulder so that he can return the hug without getting crushed completely. “Hey, Nii-san, what are you doing here?” He should be at his own apartment, theoretically. After all, it’s not like he has a bed here anymore.

Mob loosens his grip on Ritsu enough to take a step back and look him in the eyes. He beams at him a moment before his smile is dampened a little by sheepishness. “Ah, well. We thought we’d spend the night so that we could be here when you arrived.” Ritsu has a moment to think ‘We’? before Teru appears in the front hallway, weird hair and atrocious green sweater and all. “Hey, Little Brother!” he calls out with a wave, before weaving around Mob to give Ritsu a hug of his own. “Don’t call me that,” he scolds, whacking him on the back of the head even as he’s letting Teru try his damndest to squeeze him to death.

Teru and Mob have set up a fairly impressive pillow nest on the couch, and the TV is still on low volume, the tail end of some competitive cooking show marathon. That was a ‘thing,’ with these two, for some reason that Ritsu couldn’t understand. They just tended to be stupid competitions with stupid people who’d decided to embarrass themselves on television. Mob had told him it was “kind of stressful, but Teruki likes it, so it’s alright,” while Teru called it a “valuable bonding experience”. Ritsu wonders, sometimes, if all people in relationships are this weird, or if it’s just these two.

Once Ritsu has sneaked past his parents’ room and dumped his bag in his (as predicted, completely unchanged) room, he collapses onto the sofa with them, infinitely grateful for a chair that wasn’t actively trying to murder his back. For the rest of the train ride back, he’d had the good sense to shove another hoodie in between his neck and the window, and it had served as a pillow well enough, but God, his neck was killing him. Well, at least he’d come out of it better off than the businessman, who’d walked off of the train with an imprint of a keyboard on his forehead. Teru curls the other end of the sofa and Mob sits in the middle between them, pulling a pillow into his lap. Ritsu flops down with his head on it, scooching around until he’s mostly comfortable.

The silence that falls over the room is drowsy and comfortable, despite the muffled screaming coming from the television set. He knows that when his parents wake up in a few hours, there’ll be a barrage of hugs and wet kisses and questions about his school and his dorm and his grades and his friends, and a thousand other things that had always seemed so important this last year, when they took up every waking moment of his time, but thinking back now, feel so minuscule and pointless, just part of the drivel of everyday life. So for now, he’s content to let his eyes glaze over until the light from the TV fades into a blue haze that fills the room and lulls him into a sense of nothingness. He must fall into that grey area between asleep and awake, because at some point he becomes aware that Mob and Teru are talking, but he only catches snippets, keeps drifting off too much to follow the flow of the conversation. He catches, “-opening up the office this week? Shishou said…” from his brother, and something like “Ugh, please, no,” from Teru. Mob comments at some point on Ritsu falling asleep, and he’s not, not quite, but he’s also not nearly awake enough to dispute the fact. The only time he properly wakes up is when he feels Teru’s socked toes poking his head, playing with his hair. “-have got to cut this,” he’s saying, and his voice is soft and syrupy-slow, so Ritsu guesses he’s not too far off from sleep himself. “I mean, I know he’s got college and everything, but would it kill him to buy a pair of scissors?” Ritsu attempts to respond, but he all that comes out of his mouth is a series of jumbled word-sounds that are half-muffled by the cushion in his face, so he has to take a moment to blink himself awake and reorient himself before he can mumble, “I did trim it.” It’s not his fault if his hair is gravity’s natural enemy. And sure, he could actually get himself a proper haircut in between breaks, but in his defense, he doesn’t have to pay Teru.

“This is it trimmed? I’m actually scared to imagine you growing it out.”

Ritsu makes a noncommittal hmm noise, just for the sake of acknowledging that something was said. He blinks slowly at the wall on the other side of the room, having to take a moment to remember where, exactly, he is. The TV has been turned off at some point, so the only light in the living room is coming from the windows, whatever muted grey light has managed to slip above the horizon and filter through the clouds. It’s not quite dawn yet, Ritsu thinks, but it will be soon. He thinks he could probably get up now, maybe should get up, and weighs the option in his mind. Pros: good coffee and food in the kitchen. Actually being awake at a normal time to talk to everyone today. Cons: this sofa is very comfortable and warm. He manages to make himself turn his head to look up, and sees that above him, his brother is either already asleep, or most of the way there. Listening carefully, he can hear Teru’s breathing shift into something that’s just a little too close to snoring to be conscious. The movement, however small, makes something twist in his stomach and crawl up his throat, the weird sort of nausea that screams too early! Waaaaay too early! Well, if nobody else is awake…

—

He actually, properly, really wakes up to the sound of his mother talking, and the smell of something sweet filling the house.

“Shigeo, close the bedroom doors, or the whole house will smell like cinnamon!” Teru shouts back, “You say that like it’s a bad thing!” and Ritsu hadn’t realized that Teru was still on the sofa with him, so it almost scares him out of his skin. He feels toes poking at his head again, sharper jabs than earlier, and he has to take a moment to admire his brother’s willingness to compromise in a relationship, because really, even on a sofa, who sleeps in their socks? Teru’s voice is gentle when he speaks, as if he hadn’t just bellowed halfway across the house. “Hey, Ritsu, you should wake up. Your mom is making breakfast.” Ritsu rolls onto his back, groaning and blinking blearily at the ceiling as he listens to the distant sound of the bedroom doors shutting. Mob has somehow extracted himself from under Ritsu at some point, because his head is a lot lower than he remembers, and he can hear his voice from somewhere else in the house. Not loud enough to catch what he’s saying, but gentle and distinct enough to identify it as him. His mother’s response is drowned out by the clattering sound of a pan or a pot in the sink, but he’s guessing that Mob must’ve been sent to fetch them, because Ritsu hears, or… wait, no, more senses him approaching. He’s always had a little bit of trouble distinguishing his psychic sense from his physical ones when first waking up. He’s staring, eyes half-lidded, at a little dark speck on the off-white ceiling, so he can only really see a vague idea of Mob’s location as he comes up to the back of the sofa, leaning over to speak quietly to Teru. “Is he awake?” “I think so? His eyes are certainly open, but that doesn’t mean much with him, does it?” Mob laughs softly, more of a quick exhale than anything. “Not really. I’m setting the table. I’ll come and get you when it’s done.” He can’t be certain, but he’s pretty sure that Mob just leaned down to drop a kiss on Teru’s head, so he does his duty as a little brother and makes a face. It’s brattish, sure, and above his maturity level by far. He likes Teru quite a bit, and they’ve had mature, adult conversations in which Ritsu described in precise detail exactly what he would do to Teru if he ever hurt his brother intentionally, but, well. He did just finish his first year of college, so he’s reserving the right to be childish and annoying at least once. He leans his head back until he can make eye contact with Teru and stick his tongue out. Teru, smug bastard that he is, just raises an eyebrow and says, “Ah, I guess he is awake.”

Mob, still leaning over the back of the sofa, beams at him. “Ritsu! Morning. There’s French toast, are you hungry?” He hadn’t really noticed until this exact moment, but holy shit, he is starving. Sure enough, as soon as he steps foot near the dining table, his mother and father are all over him. He manages to get through his mother’s almost violent physical affection with minimal injuries, just by virtue of being much taller than her. His father’s bear hug, on the other hand, is a whole other ordeal. Still, he finds himself sat at the dining table with a plate in front of him, with Mob on his left, and Teru sat on the short end to his right. Despite quite a bit of it being about him, most of the conversation seems to pass right over his head, with Teru and his brother fending off most of his parents’ questions. Most of them seem to be just for the sake of chatting during breakfast, seeing as they already know what his roommates are like, how he likes his professors, and how he did on his finals. His mother had made a habit of calling him at least once every week while he was away, “just to check in”. It always feels like family dinners with Teru and his parents should be unspeakably awkward. Sure, his parents seem… okay with Mob and Teru, at least to their faces, although they seem convinced that either Teru and Mob are just really good friends, or that Mob is eventually going to get over this “phase of his” and marry that nice Takane girl he’d gone to school with. Bad enough that he’s not even going to school, he’d overheard his father say once, without this nonsense on top of everything else.

Still, Teru has something of an irresistible personality, a natural charm that has only grown under Reigen’s watchful eye. A single sentence and a sweeping gesture could enrapture a whole room, and he could talk you out of your life savings and leave you thanking him for it. Turning up the charm for his boyfriend’s parents is hardly any effort at all. Spirits and Such is lucky to have him. Ritsu is certainly grateful for the way Teru sends his parents’ questions flying back at them with a smile, leaving Ritsu to work his way through his toast and gulp down coffee until he feels at least marginally alive.

It also doesn’t hurt Teru’s case that he insists on helping to clear the table, and offers to do the dishes until Ritsu’s mother actually kicks him out of the kitchen.

Ritsu’s still feeling a little hazy; Shou has described jetlag to him, and although he knows it has to do with timezones, he’s starting to think it might also be a general lethargy that comes with travelling long distances. Still, he’s awake enough to thank his mother for breakfast, and walk through to help Teru and Mob to fold up just about every blanket in the house, and put them back in their rightful places. Ritsu ends up with an old fluffy blanket piled in his hands, bright green with little cows printed on it, and he’s already halfway through the door to Mob’s old room before he remembers that there’s no bedroom in here anymore. He squints at the makeshift studio, trying to recall what it had looked like before Mob had moved out. The bed had been by the closet… No, they’d moved it so it was by the window eventually, so he could keep it open during the summer. His desk had been replaced by a bigger one, with an old-looking sewing machine plugged in on top of it. He feels like the room had been so much bigger when his brother had been in it, although, admittedly, he hadn’t had much stuff to fill it with. Now, between the desk, the piles of fabric heaped around the room, the… well, he assumes they’re quilts… it feels cluttered. Unfamiliar, certainly. Where did this stuff even come from? I don’t recognize any of it. “Ritsu?” Mob’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and he makes his way quickly back to the living room, pausing to shove the blanket into a hall closet as he passes. Teru starts speaking to him as soon as he’s in the room, even as he’s simultaneously typing on his phone at a frankly alarming speed. “Oi, Ritsu. We’re not opening the office this week, but we should probably head over there later today. That way, you can see Da- uh, Reigen, and I’ll take care of your hair quickly. Get it over with, you know? We can go out to lunch and stuff afterwards.” That last bit strikes Ritsu has odd, said with a tone that’s just barely on-edge,  like Teru thinks he needs some incentive to go out with them. Still, it probably doesn’t really matter. He’s probably just trying to think of a way to get Ritsu to agree to eat at one of the bizarre, alleged ‘restaurants’that he seems to frequent. So, Ritsu sits down on the sofa beside Teru, saying, “You just can’t stand to look at my bangs falling in my face anymore.” Teru neither confirms nor denies, just keeps typing, which is enough of an admission in itself. “Yeah, sure, sounds like a plan. I just need to shower and stuff first.” Teru nods. “Yeah, Mob’s already getting ready. I was thinking we set off in, oh, forty-five minutes?” “Alright.”

#/ #// #/// #//// #///// #robin fic #mp100 fic #fic: aubade