#cool idea if you’re just bouncing around the concept though

[nexysworld]

Summary: While away on a business trip, your hybrid boyfriend decides to surprise you upon your return home. Pairing: Hybrid!Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Smut, use of sex toys, pussy eating, hybrid smut

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A/N: I dedicate this one shot to Kenny @dollfacefantasy. She's the best, you should check out her writing, without her inspiration this one shot wouldn't have been possible. Love you Kenken!!

Honorable mentions to @explorevenus, @kaitkatme, and @gigabyte-flare for supporting my work and being awesome too! Also @ghostkennedy and @tosuckmyweenis <3

For the longest time a hybrid hadn’t been something you considered getting, but recently having to relocate for work, you found yourself often feeling lonely hauled up in your apartment each night. Toying with the idea of a traditional pet, it just didn’t seem like the exact type of companionship you were looking for –  you needed something more. The concept of a hybrid was just so strange to you though, they were sentient, capable of nearly all things people were, but spliced with animals to aid in things like companionship and work. 

There’d been a lot of back and forth in the media between whether or not hybrids were ethical to begin with in addition to if adopting them was even morally correct as well. It was something you hadn’t put much thought into until you stumbled into the local shelter one day, peering around. 

The best way to describe it was like a jail– if each cell was its own little apartment. The cement walls and flooring, along with the barred doors were very reminiscent of a traditional shelter, but inside each room were individual hybrids with their own little decorated room. As you walked by, most ran up to you, tails wagging, excitement written on their face as they shouted greetings at you. 

Puppy hybrids with their tails wagging like helicopters, cats with their ears twitching eyes narrowing as you passed them – even bunnies bouncing up and down at the prospect of an owner. As adorable as it was, none of them really caught your eye, at least not enough to commit to taking home. 

Close to the end of the fluorescently lit hallway, you found what you almost thought was an empty kennel until your eye caught the glimpse of someone sitting in the corner. He was unlike anything you’d ever seen before, sky blue eyes, a face framed by fluffy blonde hair. The bomber jacket he wore suited him so well. “Leon, huh?” You asked, after peering over at the informational plaque on the wall. 

The sound of your voice caught his attention as he shot you a weak smile in return. “Uh yeah, that’s me alright.” “I like that name.” Glancing back over to the plaque you could see that he previously worked for the government, was well behaved, and was good at adapting. “Leon, how would you feel about coming home with me?” His cool demeanor didn’t change, but you could see the shocked written on his face, there only for a second before his iced it back over with his neutral expression. “Are you for real?” “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

Hesitantly, he made his way over to the bars that separated you two, tilting his head to the side he looked you up and down processing for a moment. Finally a smirk came over his plush lips. “If you’re sure, I’d be happy to keep you company.” 

***************

That was three years ago. 

Since then Leon had become more than a close companion to you. His corny jokes and dry sense of humor lived rent free in your head any moment you were away from home. Loneliness was a thing of the past when you could curl up with him on the couch and fall asleep to the ambient sound of the tv playing in the background.  Leon had opened himself up to you as well, explaining that unlike most hybrids he wasn’t born this way. Several years back he had to escape from a place called Raccoon City after a massive bio disaster occurred – you’d never even heard of that place before, but the seriousness in his voice had silenced any questions or lingering doubt. After said incident, was when he was forced into a government program, trained to be a federal agent. Once his contract was over with, he could no longer return to a regular human-lived life, the shelter was the only other option.  His story made your heart ache, but you settled on being content with the idea of finally being able to provide him with a happy home filled with love and relaxation.

At some point, not that you could remember when exactly, your relationship had changed. There was an unspoken tension that neither of you dared act on, until it built and built into a volcanic level eruption between you. One bad day at work was all it took for him to have you bent over the couch, rutting into your wet folds with abandon as you cried his name out, desperately clawing at the furniture beneath you. Suffice it to say, Leon became your companion in more ways than one. 

***************

The moment the front door swung open you nearly tackled him to the ground in a hug. “God I’ve missed you, Lee.” “Missed you too baby.” He said with a chuckle, wrapping you into a tight hug. It’d only been a week, but that business trip had lasted far too long in your opinion. The only saving grace was you managed to get back to town just in time for your official one year anniversary of dating.

Finally letting go of him, you stood back and gasped once you really got a good look at him. “Lee where’s your–?” He cut off your question with a deep kiss, pulling away before pressing another to your cheek. “Shhh baby, no questions yet. Not when I have a present for you.” 

You wanted to protest but the excitement in his eyes prevented you from doing anything but following him down the hall, now laced with pink and red flower petals, to the bedroom. Excitement flurried around your stomach as you barely contained your giddiness. 

The bedroom was dimly lit and the scents of lavender and vanilla wafted into your nose, the bedding had been swapped out for a satiny red set. In the dead center was a heart shaped box, a huge bow on the top. 

Leon stepped out of the way so you could move forward. “Go on, open it.” 

Hesitantly you pulled one end of the ribbon undoing the bow, carefully pulling the lid off. By now you could feel Leon’s hot breath on your neck as his hands came up around you, cupping your breasts through your shirt. “Faster baby, I wanna see you get to the good part.”

“Ok, ok!” You exclaimed shuddering under his touch, wetness already forming a spot in your panties. Parting the tissue paper inside the box, there it was an ivory colored dildo. Confusion hit you first as you gently picked it up. It looked exactly like Leon’s, from the thick shaft even down to the shape of the balls, decorative swirls and designs were carved into it, giving it a ribbed texture. The material wasn’t something you recognized initially, as the outward coating made it feel like glass, until it hit you. “Leon… is this?” “Sure is.” He replied nuzzling into your neck again, sucking a bruise into the skin. The feeling of his whiskers always sent delightful tingles down your spine. “Didn’t want you to have to miss me while you’re away anymore.” 

“But your tusks?” “They grow back.” He said nonchalantly, turning you to face him. “What do you think? I carved it myself.” “Lee, it’s beautiful…god I can’t wait to try it out.” “Why wait?” A devious smirk came to his lips as he pushed you back onto the bed. “Wanna see you enjoy your present.” Leaning on top of you he brought his lips to yours one more time before sitting up to yank your bottoms down, pulling your panties along with them. 

He wasted no time in yanking you towards him, legs tossed over his shoulders as he dove into you like it was the first meal he’s had since you’d been away – lapping a line through your soaked folds. The thick whiskers tickled at your thighs, making you squirm against his flattened tongue, the mix of pleasure and tingles making you whine. “There we go baby, so wet and ready.”  He pressed a teasing kiss to your clit before pulling back just enough to reach over and grab the tusky dildo from you clenched hand. He held it against your folds, running it up and down, swirling the tip over your clit making you jolt as firecrackers of pleasure sparked from your core to your fingertips. 

He slid it into your hole slowly, careful to not hurt you and to allow you to feel each ribbed indentation before it was bottomed out to the base. “That’s it baby, that’s my good girl.” He cooed, pumping it in and out of your hot little pussy setting a rhythmic pace. He marveled at the way your back arched and head tossed back before he returned to lapping his tongue over your clit, in tandem with the movement of the present in his hand.  The overwhelming sense of pleasure coupled with your neediness for him made you grasp at his blonde locks to ground yourself. Toes curling with the oncoming orgasm that was so close, you choked out a cry, tight walls clenching around the porcelain coated tusk buried in you. It was a sensation like no other, and soon the pressure that built up exploded – white splotches filled your vision and your legs shook as pleasure consumed you in waves. Little aftershocks tickled along your skin, nerves a livewire.

He left the toy inside of you as he began to kiss his way up, first your thighs then your hip, before planning a kiss to your tummy. This time the feeling of his whiskers pulling a giggle out of you between panted attempts at returning your breathing to normal. Stopping for a moment only at your chest, he gripped your shirt that he’d pushed up before lapping at one pebbled nipple, sucking it gently into his mouth.

He pulled off with a pop capturing your lips once more in a tender kiss. “Happy anniversary baby.”  “Happy anniversary.” You replied, bringing your thumb up to rub over the spot where his tusks had been shaved down. The skin surrounding the ivory mounds was soft, leaving only the flattened discs of where his tusks used to be. Leaning up you gave him a kiss on his flattened nose. “My handsome little Walrus.”

#Leon Kennedy x reader #Leon Kennedy x you #Leon Kennedy x y/n #Leon s kennedy #Leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil fanfiction #hybrid!leon #hybrid leon kennedy #x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #Leon Kennedy fanfiction

[moltengoldveins]

That TCU post…that is truly one of, if not the greatest thing I’ve ever seen come out of this fandom. I tried my own hand a while back at writing “the dsmp but taken seriously”; gave it a name and a playlist but didn’t really write much before I went back to my other projects. If you ever have the motivation to do more with that outline I’d be honored to be a co-writer or help out in any way, or if you want you could just use my title as a name for the series: A Ballad of Broken Dreams.

holy crap op this is so sweet. Thank you so much. I’m… wow ok. That. Wow. Thank you. That’s legitimately so kind and I’m so glad you enjoyed it XD. Id also Love to see your playlist and your thoughts behind the songs if you’re down?! That sounds awesome :D

funnily enough, I’ve had a drafted outline for this heccin thing running around in my head since the Butcher Army arc. Right around when SAD-ist dropped her animatic, I simultaneously realized ‘oh wow, I Adore this concept’ and ‘oh wow, I Highly doubt the CCs are gonna manage to do this the way I’d want to see it’ and lo and behold: I was correct. So painfully correct. (There were also People Involved whom I had Really Bad Feelings About from very early on that, sure enough, turned out to be exactly what i thought they were, rip) So the Emduo prequels, Icarus heccin Dying, and the end of Axe of Peace have been around for Ages.

I’d honestly love to do more with this concept, (i am designing movie posters as we speak) but due to Chronic Illness Pog I’m in a rather unstable financial situation? And don’t have a ton of free time for art. Any big projects are gonna take a While, or id need to find a way to use it or something adjacent to fund, y’know, Rent. That being said, I’m definitely writing the emduo prequels, both as movie scripts and as novels, as those are the films focused on, yknow, My Bois. I also think it’d be hilarious to release the novels and then the scripts and watch people Loose Their Minds over the ‘inaccurate adaptation >>:(‘

I’d absolutely love to work with other people in the fandom on this stuff, though I’ve never been the best at directly co-writing (my writing method and style is painfully specific (ie needlessly poetic) and I’m very autistic: I don’t like it when people touch that Specific Thing) but literally anything else? Im open ears. I love collabs.

and finally, I adore your name for the series, (excellent word choice there /srs, it fits perfectly with the symbolism of the whole story) and I think it works really Really well for the actual DSMP, but if I’m entirely honest… I’m not sure it fits the TCU? Like genuinely I’m so grateful for the suggestion, I love when people offer ideas and bounce things around like that. But one of the main things I tried to do with this concept was work out how the story could actually end Well. A deep-seated belief in the good-but-fallen nature of man, the importance of hope, and the inevitability of redemption kinda comes part and parcel with the whole Being-A-Christian Thing (if it doesn’t, you’re missing the Whole Point Of The Bible) and while the actual DSMP may have ended in broken dreams… this doesn’t. That was my first thought when writing that outline: This Is Going To End Well. Not for wish-fulfillment reasons, not because I’m naive or I don’t like bad endings, but because fundamentally, everything sad is a lie, and if the story has ended in tragedy, it hasn’t ended yet.

If I had to pick a series name now, I’m not sure what I’d pick. A part of me balks at referencing anything popularized by Our Local Redacted, but ‘unfinished symphony’ wasn’t his in the first place, it was from Hamilton. “The Finished Symphony” has a cool ring to it? I dunno. If anyone else has ideas please feel free to toss them in here aight, I’m not settling on anything for a While.

Anyways, thanks for Ted talking with me, drink water 💜

#TCU #Sure hope that tag isn’t already used for anything horrible I don’t know about XD #Technoblade Cinematic Universe #Asks #I’ve never really answered an ask before this is new and exciting #Op sorry for co-opting your ask to rant about the goodness of life and the importance of redemption for a sec there #Well I’m not Sorry sorry but you get my meaning XD #technoblade #dsmp #dsmp au #antarctic empire #emduo

[sweet--sweet--muffin]

Ben 10 Aliens As Their Own Characters (Original Series)

This has been on my mind for a looooong, long time and I finally decided to share this here.

I’ve seen some cool concepts for the “Ben’s Omnitrix glitched out and caused the aliens to have their own sentience” AU (like @thisunknowngenius’ take on the AU for example, as well as @justmenoworries​‘ glorious @omniglitch-au​) and I thought of sharing my own take for this.

Gonna call this AU of mine Ben 10 Alienated.

Let’s start with the Original 10 here because I have no idea where to start with the others lmao.

Wildmutt - Considered as the family pet, he’s just like any other normal man’s best friend. He always strive to be close with his family (especially Ben) to show how much he loves them.

Four Arms - an extremely violent, short-tempered, and very brash berserk who tends to be quite unkind to others around him, especially towards the people who dare hurt his loved ones. He seems to think that punching things, including people, is the best way to solve problems and his hot head can sometimes get him into trouble.

Grey Matter - tends to be boorish, and sarcastic with a dry sense of humor. He usually has a stoic frown, though he does smile from time to time. Grey Matter is very honest and blunt about what is on his mind. His brutal honesty isn't so much out of a sense of morality, but because he doesn't want to waste brain space by making up a lie. Regardless, he’s willing to help his family with any problem that only relates to knowledge and tutoring.

XLR8 - an energetic and upbeat Kineceleran who loves to do all sorts of bizarre things and dislikes "dull" things, like reading and studying. He’s a menace in the pranking field, but thankfully, his pranks are all relatively harmless. XLR8′s also a good sport and loves doing some competitions with his siblings. Well, unless you’re cheating then you’re really asking for a pie in the face.

Upgrade - literally the nicest alien you’ll ever meet. Upgrade possesses emotions and acts more like a human than a normal Mechamorph. He’s a bit shy but is generally a very kind-hearted individual who speaks in a polite manner and is sensitive to others' feelings. Despite his typically shy behavior, Upgrade occasionally demonstrates more assertiveness, confidence and can stand up for himself without resorting to anger (Heatblast joked that Four Arms should take notes about this). He’s pretty much seen with Grey Matter in most cases as he is more like an assistant of his.

Diamondhead - If someone were to look up “father figure”, then Diamondhead is sure to appear in those results. He is very responsible and talks formal. He rarely loses his nerve and can maintain clarity in any situation. He’s like the loving father figure of Ben, Gwen and the aliens and has a closer relationship towards Max due to sharing the responsibilities of being the parent figure of the fam.

Ripjaws - Not exactly the most intellectual member of the aliens, as Ripjaws is clueless, easily confused by complex words and misinterprets insults and figures of speech. He is also very gullible, often easily believing things people say and is surprised when others tell him that they're lying. In general, his mood can shift very quickly. He can bounce between bored, to happy, to angry, and to happy again. Despite his easygoing and aloof personality, Ripjaws is a good-natured and well-meaning alien.

Stinkfly - the very definition of “lazy” and a good-for-nothing couch potato of the family. He may be laid-back, but he’ll do anything to help the world in need and protect his family. Despite this, there’ll be times that he can be cynical towards others, even to the aliens and Tennysons.

Ghostfreak - he’s quite hard to approach given his quiet, deadpan and distant demeanor. But that’s because Ghostfreak is simply not good at expressing his emotions and would rather do so through his poems. It does help with giving him ideas on how to express his emotions more. Regardless, he has a heart of gold to the people he truly trusts; his one big family.

Heatblast - he’s a sporty athlete with a fiery personality and is always eager to challenge someone when he’s being challenged. Heatblast is one of the more mature aliens unless he ends up getting himself caught into the childish antics of his siblings (mainly XLR8).

#ben 10 #ben 10 au #ben 10 aliens #ben 10 alienated #ben 10 original series #muffin misc

[itwoodbeprefect]

Hello, for the WIP game : Several of the Hawaii Five-0 section sound nice... I'll go with #23 because it does sound particularly intriguing!

Steve’s becomes… themed

ooh, another recent addition to the h50 pile! though the idea is one that’s been bouncing around my head for years - and then always ended up going a different direction, which this one already has again too, i think. the “steve’s” here is the restaurant (i forget if canon ever really nailed that down, but we do get steve asking danny to name the restaurant after him (so they can be together forever, you know, like good platonic buddies) so i think it’s at least generally accepted fanon that it’s called that?) and the “themed” is just, well. i think that in canon, at one point, danny says he wants the restaurant to be a place for cops to come hang out and get dinner after their shift? but this is steve and danny, so of course they accidentally open a queer restaurant instead. huge rainbow in the window, cheesecake in the colors of the transgender flag, they adopt half the local teens, that kind of thing. (obviously they keep the restaurant in this version instead of selling to kamekona - i think it would work out a lot better for them if they have a united Cause that distracts them from fighting over the shade of red of the chairs, anyway.)

which is a concept i really like, but it’s also always pretty Big. there’s a lot of stuff i would want to throw into that story, and to avoid starting something Very Long that i’ll never finish because it’s getting Very Long, i end up cutting myself short to keep things manageable and throwing the original idea overboard in the process, which i think might happen again here, but i’m also considering ways i could keep this fic short and set it up as a potential start to a series, so i don’t need to commit but there are still options.

for this particular go at this idea, this is the catalyst:

“Oh, it’s good that you’re both here,” Grace says, when she falls into the kitchen with a slightly chaotic energy. The double doors haven’t had the time to fully swing shut behind her when she follows that with, “I’m a lesbian.”

They were going over the menu - again - and it’s been a pretty boring if hectic day of ironing out the last details before the opening. Steve looks from Grace, hovering so near the door she looks as if she might run right back out, to Danny, who quietly unglues his shoulder from Steve’s and puts down the pen he’s been using to wave far more than write. “Monkey,” Danny says, with a lot of emotion but most of all baffled, and Steve has to agree that these are pretty uncharacteristic nerves for a kid as cool as Grace.

She shifts a little, folds her arms. “Mom already knows. I just wasn’t sure how you’d take it, so-”

“Grace,” Danny says, and this time he sounds like he’s about to cry, but in the next moment he’s around the counter and wrapping Grace up in his arms so tight it’s as if he’s trying to squeeze the thought that he could ever love her any less than he does right out of her.

Steve lets out a deep, shuddery breath, and closes the menu folder. They’re finished for today.

and then there’s some stuff about letter soup (“I tried to get someone to sell me only the LGBTQIA’s, but they don’t seem to do custom letter sets.” / “Right,” Steve says, because what else is he going to say? “And what would you do for the plus, anyway?”), and danny cooking sadness pasta while telling steve he feels like a Bad Dad because he’s known he is bisexual this whole time and if he had been open about it maybe grace’s life would have been easier, and obviously steve goes, paraphrased, “you are very stupid for thinking that you’re not the best dad, stop it”, and then he mentions that at least grace did tell her dad, that she trusted him enough to do that, and that steve never took that step with john - and that’s the story of how half the mcgarrett-williams family came out in maybe an hour.

-

send me the title of one of my WIPs and i’ll tell you something about it or post a snippet!  

#thank you for playing!! 🎉 #h50 #ask #*

[manapotionstudios]

DelaneyPost 01 (ManaPost 06): Fungeon -- Clever Wordplay!

Heyo! Y here for today’s Mana-welcome! Except it’s not the usual ManaPost… This is the first DelaneyPost! Ever! Yippee!!! Strap in for the long haul, this one’s a doozy.

Since you all haven’t seen anything about Delaney since the teaser, it would be nice to learn about the protagonist, yes?

THE Laney

Introducing Delaney! The protagonist of Delaney. Yup. This stoic, havoc-wreaking, hammer-wielding anarchist leads the venture deep into a cult’s mysterious manor responsible for the assimilation of everyone near and far to their twisted status quo. She’s slinging herself through every pile of flesh and bone, bashing through any wall in order to destroy this cult from the outside in!

Where did she come from?

Delaney actually stems from an interesting interaction with a close friend, Denise Tranglong, who had shared a character concept with us. Naturally, it was a very cool concept, and we immediately inquired for permission to use this character, and since you’re seeing this post now, she had granted said permission. Of course, we’ve taken a few creative liberties, but her core design and personality stays true to the original creator’s intentions.

Where did she go? Originally, we took the initial hiatus from Delaney due to a flood of new ideas and inspiration for Manaport! Since we try to keep a fluid and open mindset when it comes to what we want to work on, we tend to bounce around from time to time. This ensures persistent focus on getting at least something done each week, and it’s the reason why we can get these ManaPosts out every weekend!

Where did she come from, Cotton-Eye Joe?

Delaney’s origins in canon are unknown. She clearly has some hatred towards this cult, but it isn’t clear if this is a personal gripe. She’s not the most talkative, probably focusing on the task at hand. We’re worried to question her anyway — she’s quite heavy-handed when it comes to her trusty hammer.

Incredibly stretched subheadings aside, Gameplay! What’s it gonna be like to play the game?

The Fungeon

Delaney is a spin on the run-of-the-mill dungeon-crawler roguelike formula! That’s just it, you spin!

In order to navigate these endless rooms of clicking bones and armour, spin and fling delaney in ANY direction you choose! Get anywhere without the inconvenience of WALKING! Don’t you just HATE walking sometimes? This is the solution for you!

Of course, since this is also a hammer, you can bash anyone and anything with it. This has its own range of abilities that we plan to add, though not shown here. Rest assured that your screen will be filled with beautifully vibrant damage numbers and repeating sounds of the screams of the damned.

Violence aside, how does it all work?

NOT The Backrooms

Here be dragons! This section of the ManaPost is quite technical! We encourage you to read up on these concepts/algorithms if you’re interested. The reference used for a majority of this implementation can be found here

First, we generate a fixed number of rooms with random size within a circular area. Rooms that are larger than a set threshold, we label as “Hub Rooms,” or rooms where you’ll find most monsters.

Then, we run — not joking here — a Delaunay Triangulation algorithm on each Hub Room, creating a sort of graph that connects every Hub Room to each other.

Then, we use Kruskal’s Algorithm to find the Minimum Spanning Tree of the aforementioned triangulation graph.

Then, we add a few edges back from the Delaunay Triangulation. 

Lastly, generate the hallways connecting these rooms, and remove the rooms that aren't necessary (labeled in red,) and boom, fungeon!

This is a very simplified explanation of this generation algorithm, and again, if you would like a little more in depth “tutorial” once again, the reference we used for this system can be found here.

With the 🤓 out of the way, we finally have the makings of a decent gameplay loop! You can finally pause and exit the game! A Manapotion first :)

We don't have much else to show since we're still working out the kinks in this new system, but know that we're doing our best to make these DelaneyPosts as content-filled as possible, since it's a very simple game in contrast to Manaport.

To bring this DelaneyPost to a close,

Thank you very much for sticking with us this past month. We've made lots of great progress on our two games and we love to share these tidbits with you every weekend. We hope you've had a great pride month!

See you all next week!

C and Y

#indiegamedev #indie games #manapotion #game dev #game development #update #video games #indie game #pixelart #thank you for reading :)

[ihatebnha]

today I will be presenting to you two concepts:

1. dad!bakugou calling his wife a MILF idk I think that's funny

2. drunk!reader who's so needy and horny and won't stop talking about how bakugou's dick is the best like THE BEST and practically begging him to fuck her so he does

he'll pound into her all "best dick huh? best you've ever had?" while she's screaming out "yes yes wanna make you feel good, does it feel good" and god how could he resist he knows you won't remember this tomorrow so as he's continuing his insane pace he leans down and grunts in your ear about how your the best pussy he's ever fucked (even though you're his first and only) and he's all "I guess best pussy gets the best dick huh?"

thank you for listening.

though i realize in retrospect it's a little different than what you discuss here... i literally loved both of these ideas so much that i just had to forgo discussing them altogether and instead simply combine them... so i really hope it ended up working out!

also: i havent written anything (much less smut) like this in AGES, so if its terrible, please just... deal with it lol (no im jk if it's bad im really sorry and i no longer exist).

either way, your brain is MAD JUICY... enjoy!

(warnings: breeding, kids, alcohol mention???)

-

The dick is sloppy— drunk and hazy, Bakugo knows it is… combined with the way you couldn’t keep from jumping on him after you left the restaurant, I mean, how could he not?

Steamed up car, your head tilted at an angle so as not to bash the low roof, naked thighs spread over his lap squeezing so tight he can hardly go in any direction except up… it’s really no wonder how anything is even getting said in between.

“K-Katsuki,“ you slur, grinding your hips against the rapid slamming of his, arms wrapped tight around his neck, “Katsuki, Katsuki, ‘suki—shit.”

He groans in response, fingers digging further into the pliant flesh of your asscheeks, lips brushing yours as he growls against you. “Tell me, baby, fuck, tell me.”

“You,” you stutter back, the sound of wet slaps in your ear and pleasure clouding your vision... due to the alcohol running through your veins or the white hot heat coiling in your pussy, you can’t really tell. “You, you’re the best, Kats, love you, love you so much.”

Bakugo keens forward at the words, heavy with breath as he clenches his teeth together and continues to nose himself further against your face. Drool spilling from the corner of his mouth, he drags your hips against his own roughly, fat cock nudging your G spot with every stroke as if to say thanks.

“The best?” he repeats, nearly snarling, hands running up and down your bouncing spine, “Best you’ve ever fuckin’ had?”

With closing eyes, you nod, Bakugo deliberately speeding up his thrusts as you lean down to meet his lips for a wet and uneven kiss that ends up being more of a moan straight into his mouth.

Sliding one hand over the plush dip of you waist, his thumb meets your clit, the calloused skin swirling circles that cause your knees to lock up and you to see stars, Bakugo having to use his other hand to keep you from slipping right off his dick.

“Baby,” you whine, your own bouncing slowing with lack of concentration, “c-c-cumming!”

You use one hand to pull roughly on the hair of Bakugo’s nape as you throw back your head and howl, clamping down tight onto his cock as if that will get him to lay up on what you know (or at least do when you aren’t fucked-out and tipsy) will be an overlay of overstimulation.

“Yeah, pretty girl?” Bakugo responds, heaving, even though you are no longer listening. “For me, right?”

Despite the waves of pleasure that overtake you, Bakugo doesn’t budge; thumb only increasing in speed as he groans at the feel of your body convulsing and your tight heat holding him in, instead starting to do the final bit of work lifting your hips for you.

Your hands now gripped tight to the meat of his shoulders and biceps, Bakugo pulls you up suddenly, this thick shaft greeting cool air with an incredibly seamless slide.

“W-wait, Kat—“ you mumble, eyes shooting open with realization of what’s to come…

Though he doesn’t listen, as maybe it’s too late, already slamming you back down onto his soaked thighs with his own desperate moan as he shoots his load deep and hot against your cervix.

-

“And nine months later you were born!”

Your son looks at you with a grimace, his lip pulled up enough to expose the sharp canines in his mouth as he raises an eyebrow, looking at you as though you just grew a second head.

“After you sloppy fucked in the car?” he asks, half-disgusted, half-annoyed, staring at from across the kitchen island. “You guys are fuckin’ nasty.”

“I don’t know... we had fun,” you tease, sending a look to the grouchy blonde sorting dishes beside your boy. “Plus, we were drunk!”

He wrinkles his nose. “Bleh, taking advantage of a drunk woman? Some hero you are, pops.”

Bakugo moves to take a swipe at your son, big fist landing atop the blonde curls that stick up from his head in a tight ruffle… shaking the boy around on his feet with his Pro Hero grip.

“You should be grateful for your old man,” he chides, gruffly. “If it weren’t for that night, you wouldn’t fuckin’ exist.”

“I doubt that,” your son immediately retorts, pointing through the door at the gurgling little girl currently playing in the large, living room playpen all three of you are keeping an eye on. “You’re so full of shit.”

Bakugo bristling with the language, you roll your eyes...

“You better watch that damn mouth, kid.”

And it’s your son’s turn to roll his, muttering under his breath something about someone being “so much worse,” though you smile when Bakugo doesn’t respond and instead stalks to your side, orange slippers whapping against the hardwood floors.

Glaring at the cutting board in front of you as he approaches, he mutters, “I didn’t take advantage of you, that little fucker.”

Jutting an elbow into him playfully as you turn away from the food with a laugh, you warn, “don’t call your son a fucker.”

Though the boy only sticks out his tongue at you both, slipping out of the room just as Bakugo raises a fist to send little sparks in his direction... and in his absence, Bakugo doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around your waist and curve into your side, pressing your head sideways and leaving your bare neck exposed.

“You had fun that night, right baby?” he starts to whisper, lips pressing against your jugular, “Fuckin’ in my car?”

Before you can respond, however, one of Bakugo’s large hands now creeping over the swell of your ass... the sound of the kitchen door sliding open breaks the both of you from your trance.

Your son, now holding on tight to his matching counterpart, her own curls mussed from playtime, approaches you with a very familiar scowl on his face.

“What did I just say? Disgusting,” he says, ignoring the way Bakugo’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head at the remark, sidestepping him entirely to hand your daughter to you. “You’re a freak for letting him act like this, mom.”

Staring back at the big red and gooey eyes that gaze up at you, you smile knowingly at the remark despite how Bakugo himself is quick to interject.

“Son,” he enunciates, hand reaching for your side, “your mother is a fuckin’ milf.”

Gasping as if to scold him, you push gently against Bakugo with a shoulder, the man already grinning at the sight of your son turning to leave with a gag. Pride overtaking his features, he stops your butting immediately by wrapping his arms around your front and pulling both you and the baby snug in your hold against his chest.

With your son now long gone, he rests his head atop your shoulder and eyes on the cooing girl in your arms, pressing his lips against your cheek in both a whisper and a smirk.

“Best milf I ever fuckin’ had.”

#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #Lowkey I feel like this is horrible omg I am SORRY #I stayed up late to finish it so idk #the dirty talk is also very subpar so I’m sorry for that too #fyi you didnt tell your son the exact story... u just said he was conceived in a car #bakugo #kids tw #babies tw #ask #anon #caitie post

[machinegunbun]

concept: so i know we think of colson as this really rough guy when it comes to sex, but what about soft!dom col where he's strict but caring, and maybe the reader even has a bit of a praise kink. ❤❤

Omg yess

word count: 1.3k

A/N: sorry theres not a lot of smut, my brain got to wandering and I didn't feel the horniest so maybe pt.2? tons of fluff tho and its good to be back :)

Okay, so.

I'm thinking maybe reader has a past that left them uncomfortable with intimacy, whether from a relationship or otherwise. They're still super into freaky shit, but they need to feel comfortable first.

Does that make sense? Like, they need that safety blanket there first.

So obviously at first meeting Colson was scary, because to an outsider (especially early kells) he's this chaotic, sex machine.

It's clear to everyone that Reader is obviously attracted to him, and they are. They love the idea of doing all this kinky stuff with him, and at first Colson being Colson comes on kinda strong with the flirting, which makes them a little nervous to pursue anything.

But, one day, reader is hanging out with the gang (I imagine she's friends with Ashley [ that is his assistants name, right? God, it's been so long ] ) Maybe they're at a restaurant, nothing fancy just something where you seat yourself, and everyone squeezes into a booth, deliberately leaving no room for Colson and Reader, pointing to a two seater across the way.

You sit just far enough away from the group that you're out of earshot, and you can see them peeking the heads up and around the booth to try and catch a glimpse of what you're saying.

It's awkward at first, you're expecting him to drop some flirtatious joke that makes you choke on your drink, but instead he asks you how you met (whoever you're connected to in the group.) You tell him the story and return the question. He opens up about the fact that they're a day one, and even tells you about some of the stuff they went through together, good and bad. It's the first time you'd seen Colson not crazy or off something. He wasn't kicking out a windshield or hanging from the roof by a metal beam, he just was.

It was then that you realized the difference between MGK and Colson baker, and that before today at this restaurant you'd never met the latter.

Colson was able to express himself a lot better than MGK ever seemed to, at least when it came to you. He inquired a lot about you as a person, but the moment was ruined when you were in the midst of exchanging deep personal stories and Rook shot his straw wrapper at Colson and it bounced off his forehead and into his drink. Colson stood to return the favor, his story completely abandoned.

You didn't get a chance to speak to him like that again until two weeks later, when you met up once again in his hotel room. You were both sat on his bed watching spongebob, waiting for Rook, Slim and Baze to return with the bucket of ice. It wasn't a secret to anyone what they were doing, it didn't take three grown men to find an ice machine.

You didn't mind though.

Colson made you a little less nervous now that you'd seen him as someone other than the party animal you'd come accustomed to on stage. He was actually pretty cool, and really funny when he wasn't stressing you out with his antics.

When you asked him if he would finish his story for you he looked surprised.

"Oh, wow. You remember that?"

"Yeah, of course I do. It feels like the first time I ever really got to talk to you." He seemed uncomfortable at first, but continued with his story nonetheless.

The conversation flowed effortlessly until you began talking about how you always found Colson so interesting. He did things that terrified you like they were nothing. You admired his grab life by the balls attitude, and somewhere along the way of your ranting you opened up about how nervous intimacy made you. How most of the time the only way you could ever get off was by masturbating.

You hadn't even brought it up with him in mind, but the relation clicked immediately for him.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry."

"No, it's really nothing," you laugh nervously "I think it's just anxiety, I dunno. I'm paranoid."

"No, no. I'm sorry for the way I always talk about you— To you." he corrected "I never realized it made you uncomfortable. You always seemed into it, but I should've been more considerate and I'm sorry. I never would have— If i'd known I was making you uncomfortable—" He rambled

"Colson, it's fine." You cut him off "I mean, I am into a lot of the same stuff as you, It's just... I tend to like the concept a lot more than the reality because I am worried, and I need to feel safe before I can even consider something like that."

Colson must've really taken the conversation to heart, because he treated you a lot differently after that. When he'd heard that his loud onstage personality made you a little nervous he was sure to cool it when he was around you. He made sure to address you directly more often when you hung out in groups, whether to joke with you or as a conversation starter. He hadn't realized how uncomfortable and ostracized you'd been feeling in the group aside from your connection to it, but he was determined to change that.

It took a little bit, but eventually you really were comfortable with him, even when he was acting wild. You realized that being an anxious person and being around someone loud like him that you didn't really know was a little off-putting. Large crowds were hard enough for you, but with constant abrupt movement and noise it only worked to make you more anxious. Once you knew Colson a little better it didn't bother you as much, and he even helped you to become a little more comfortable and a little less anxious.

So when you found yourself in his hotel room once again, finishing the tail end of a family guy episode, you decided to make your move.

You weren't really sure how to start. Not with Colson.

You managed to awkwardly snuggle your way into his side, to which he gladly obliged, but you both remained silent apartment from the episode flashing on the tv. Glancing up at Colson, he stared blankly at the TV, glimpsing down to you momentarily to see what you were looking at him for. Your eyes returned to the TV soon after, your hand finding its resting spot just above his XXX tat.

You could feel Colson's chest shake softly with laughter. You tried to remember what had just happened in the show, but you were so busy anxiously devising your master plan to seduce him that you completely blanked. You could feel your heart beating in your chest. All you wanted was for him to blindfold and tie you to the bed and fucking own you. Everything about him drove you crazy. From his voice to his tats to his eyes to that fucking hair. God, you wanted nothing more than to have him between your legs while you tugged at those beautiful curls.

Your hand drifted lower, your nails scraping softly across his skin. This time he audibly chuckled.

"Are you tryna fuck me?" he asks, causing you to blush. It wasn't that you thought you were being sly, but you didn't expect to be confronted like that.

"I-"

"You're good, it's cute that you're shy, I just don't fuck with that teasing shit so, unless you wanna get yourself in trouble..." Although the words were harsh, his tone was soft. Things progressed quickly after that, your lips meeting in a heated kiss to your hands pinned above your head, his mouth moving to your neck as he whispers in your ear

"What's your safe word, princess?"

~*~*~*~

taglist

@kidtheekid

@cclynn88

@lonerlee

@madisonmgklover22

@bakedcolson

@triplexdoublex

@chokemeshaw

@myfatbottomedgirls

@friedwangsss

@rumoured-whispers

@sunflowerbebe07

@nichmeddar

#mgk #mgk smut #mgk fluff #mgk fic #mgk fanfic #mgk concepts #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly fluff #machine gun kelly smut #machine gun kelly fic #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly x reader #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly concepts #colson baker #colson baker smut #colson baker x reader #colson baker fluff #colson baker fic #colson baker fanfic #colson baker concepts

[thatweeboverthereisthirsty]

May I give milk chocolates to Azul, Jamil and Ruggie(If you accept one then Azul, love your works btw-ᄒᴥᄒ-❤️)

Milk Chocolate - Kissing in the rain

Azul flinched as the first droplet of water hit him

Rain was something he would never get used to as a sea creature

He had no issues with getting wet but the idea of standing on land and having water fall on you uncontrollably was by far one of the weirdest concepts he had ever come across

Unfortunately he had no choice in the matter as the sky soon dropped billions of miniature bullets of water on him and the earth around him

He was about to call out to you when he heard his name shouted from across the field

“Ashengrotto. You and L/n will clean up today's sessions materials. Meet us inside when you’re done.” Vargas yelled loudly over the pouring rain

Jade and Floyd snickered before wishing him a not at all sincere good luck

He sighed and began to pick up the cones and other gym equipment that the teacher had left out

The rain seeped through his gym shirt and he was forced to take off his glasses as they were splattered with water droplets

You ran around the outer sides of the field to try and retrieve the balls as quickly as possible

“Azul!” you shouted and ran towards him “Let’s put these in the shed and get insi-aagh!”

You slipped on the wet grass and all the balls tumbled out of your arms, bouncing in different directions

Azul quickly dropped the cones he was carrying and held his arms out to catch you

The force of your fall caused him to slip as well and he landed backwards with you falling onto his chest

He groaned and sat up as you moved backwards to hold your head

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly

“Y-yes.”

Azul looked up at your stutter and realized that the two of you were very close

He swallowed nervously and glanced at your lips

You opened your mouth to say something but he quickly silenced you with a soft kiss on the lips

Your hands slipped on the grass beneath you and you both fell backwards onto the wet ground

When he pulled back you could see the faintest blush on his cheeks as he stared up at you

He didn’t mind the rain so much anymore

The brunet watched with distaste as you laughed happily and carefree 

It wasn’t that your laugh was annoying

He loved that sound more than anything in the world

It was the fact that you were laughing for Kalim and not him

Possessive feelings flared up inside him and he glared at the white haired boy who was having a delightful time making it rain for you 

Jamil sighed and continued to brood in his darkness, attempting to hide his unhappy scowl underneath his hood

He didn’t notice Kalim glance back at him with a mischievous grin, well as mischievous as Kalim could get

“Hey, Y/n!” he whispered to you, “I’m gonna go inside and dry off, but I know you wanna stay out here so you should ask Jamil to join you!”

His bright smile and innocent features were enough to convince you that you should go get the young advisor, even though he appeared to want to stay dry

Kalim giggled and called out a goodbye before returning to the dorm, passing Jamil along the way

“Hey I’m gonna go in for a second, can you help entertain y/n while I’m gone.”

Jamil sighed and nodded, making Kalim grin and thank him enthusiastically

The brunet stared at the rain with regret, but still ventured out into it 

As he approached you, he took note of the way your clothes clung to your skin and your hair was matted and curled against your forehead

You turned around and smiled at him warmly

“Hi Jamil.” the nervousness in your voice was evident and you blushed slightly as he fixed his silver eyes on yours

He forced a smile and nodded a greeting, “You and Kalim seem to get along well.”

You smiled and nodded before beginning to talk about all the cool things he and you had done together

Feeling especially bold, Jamil cut off your speech with a kiss

You squeaked in surprise and your eyes widened temporarily before they fell closed 

Jamil smirked against your lips and closed his eyes as well, snaking an arm around your waist to pull you closer

He deepened the kiss and slid a hand to your neck, where he gently encouraged you to tilt your head so he would have better access to your mouth

A small whimper escaped you and Jamil had to pull back in surprise

His expression morphed into a mixture of satisfaction and embarrassment

You blushed deeply and scrambled to find the right words

Noticing that you were still clinging to his shirt you pulled your hands back and cleared your throat

“Why let go when you want to hold on, Diamond?” he asked in an attempted seductive tone that was equal parts confidence and nervousness

You glanced back up at him and hesitated before reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck

“Kalim’s nice and don’t tell him I said this, but I like you a whole lot more.”

He flushed and captured your lips again

Maybe Kalim’s unique magic did have some real use to it 

Most hyenas don’t have a particular preference on the topic of rain and water

They aren’t dogs and they aren’t cats so they could really feel one way or another

Ruggie specifically dislikes the rain

It feels odd when it plops onto his ears and fur

He especially hates the way it makes your clothes cling to you

He generally wears pretty baggy clothing so instead of clinging to him, it just sort of hangs, heavy and wet

He had to admit however that you looked pretty great standing in the rain

A large smile plastered on your face and your clothes soaked through

Droplets of water hit your cheeks and streamed down your neck

Water dripped from your hair and sprayed the world when you twirled

“Ruggie!” you called, “Come here. The water’s warm.”

He was already soaked so he supposed it didn’t matter if he went back out

Sighing, he left the shelter of the deck in front of ramshackle and made his way over to you

The expression on your face became clearer up close and he couldn’t help but smile in return

The oddly placed cheerfulness was a stark contrast to the grey and damp world around you, but still somehow managed to cause his own brand of cheerfulness to seep through the skin and into his bones

You giggled and grabbed his hands before dragging him around in circles

The two of you splashed in puddles, made drawings with mud on the trees, and basically acted like children

Neither of you minded though as everything else faded out so that only you two were highlighted

The rain began to let up a bit and you pulled him in one last circle before leading him over to a tree that had relatively good coverage

He laughed in delight and smiled widely down at you, enjoying the closeness between you and the warmth that came with it

For a moment only the sounds of rain falling and your soft breaths filled the air and allowed for a sort of tension to build between you

Ruggie was the one that broke it when he leaned forward and brushed his lips against yours delicately 

“May I?” He had never been one for asking permission but in that moment he wanted nothing more than to hear you say the word

“Yes.”

He pressed your lips together and laid his hands on either side of your face

You kissed back earnestly and giggled slightly when you noticed his tail wagging excitedly behind him

The kiss was interrupted abruptly by the tree who ultimately decided you two weren’t wet enough and let all the rain collected on it’s leaves drop onto you

Ruggie pulled away with a yelp and you tensed at the sudden downfall of water

Then you started laughing and he snickered into his hand 

The clouds broke apart in one section of the sky and dressed you in golden rays

Enamored by your beauty Ruggie simply stared as you smiled up at him with big eyes

In a world where he had basically nothing, you were the best thing he could ever have

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #savanaclaw #octavinelle #scarabia #twst ruggie x reader #ruggie x mc #ruggie bucchi x reader #twst ruggie #ruggie x reader #ruggie bucchi #twst azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto #twst azul x reader #twst azul #azul x reader #jamil #twst jamil viper #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Hi! Just wanted to know what you think Charles' route will be alll about, and how would the Ikevamp lore continue from there? Do you think we'll get an Act 3 or more suitors? I absolutely love reading your interesting insights and hearty theories! They're food for my simping soul ♡(> ਊ <)♡ please forgive my fangirling..

Hihi!!! You’re much too sweet, thank you!!! 💛💛💛 you’re always free to simp and fangirl here, haha~

I'm happy to answer as best I can, though honestly I'm not 100% sure given the main story routes all range--both in terms of topic and larger narrative impact. My guess is that it will likely be about Charles' history as somebody who took part in the French revolution, namely his role as an executioner. In line with that, I would address two lines; one from Mozart, one from Dazai.

Mozart in relation to Charles says "I remember that name..." and Dazai says that "He is a young man with many secrets." I think they both speak to a larger consideration with Charles, which is that he is both a famous historical figure but also one that trails so much blood behind him? This is a man who killed people for a living (and in droves), despite being a medical doctor. There is going to be an inevitable mental dissonance that comes with that dichotomy. His life aspiration was to help and heal people, and instead he was called to murder them indiscriminately (and often for reasons that were openly unjust). Much of his energy and disposition feels like a kind of mask; it's intended to disguise what's truly lurking beneath the surface. When people are convinced they're unsightly or monstrous, they can very often overcompensate with buoyant behavior and positivity. Dazai’s main story really felt like it was hammering this concept home, considering Charles’ insistent cheer directed at MC (yet showing Dazai and Faust a great deal of darkness.)

Interesting too, now that I think about it, because there is a kind of foil mechanism that comes with making Charles the antagonist of Dazai’s route. I didn’t realize it until now, but they both hide their secrets--and the true nature of some of their uglier feelings--with a kind of forcible levity. The difference here lies in the state of their baseline energy, the form by which it is expressed. Dazai is one to joke around and make light of (often serious) things, but he does it to a point of absurdity and mild outrage. He has a kind of desire to be chased out the way I understand him (because being chased out means he can leave and avoid the pressure of being real). If he’s not seeking to be chased out, he wants the person to smile/laugh at his blunders. He’s a mood-maker just as his description entails, and as such his goal is always the regulate/influence the emotional tone of a group in a positive way.

Charles, by contrast, avoids transparency by bouncing around and pretending like nothing really gets to him. He’s forthright and bold, but his desire to have fun belies the reality of who he is and who his master is. The impatience, the burning envy that dwells within remains to be seen--and only makes an appearance in flashes. It begs the question as to what it is he’s trying to avoid moving at that speed, as his increasing velocity means a lowered scrutiny and self-awareness (one that limits him just as much as it enables him to keep going). Furthermore, he has some notion of regulating the mood of the group in that he’s often the one who lowers tension between Vlad and Faust with his upbeat attitude. However, I would argue that it isn’t nearly as powerful as Dazai’s fixation with it; when Charles is upset or wants something, he will not hesitate to put his personal needs first (or demand them, even). Dazai does not seem to have this same audacity generally.

There's also the question of what Charles is hiding, other than the obvious historical information we have. I get the feeling something is lurking behind his desperation to believe in the future Vlad wants to create. Maybe it's some desperate wish to atone for what he's done. Maybe he raised that guillotine under some kind of misguided belief that he was restoring the world to order. We believe outlandish things to survive sometimes, and I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case for Charles. I’d like to see just what it is that makes him tick.

That being said, that doesn't always free us from the truth of what we've done. Sooner or later we're forced to confront and come to terms with it. Dazai's main story (for a short time) forced him to face that gaping maw of trauma, and it was very clear he was not in the slightest bit prepared or able to cope. So there is the question of--if MC confronts him with that--what he will do in response.

I also wouldn't be surprised if he's among the bolder suitors, seeking her affection and body with more insistence than the boys of the mansion. It remains to be seen, but given the impression I've received from him and the rest of the trio...(a note of caution to people uncomfy with that).

I'm interested to see where Charles will go, in that I'm not really sure if he'll skew to the yandere side or the lowkey wants to help people side. He has every potential to become increasingly demanding of MC’s time and attention, trying to monopolize her as much as possible. Burying himself further in denial, never questioning his master. But he also has a kind of hearty maturity at his core that might result from his life experiences, where he acknowledges what he's done and just tries to do the best he can moving forward.

If the latter happens, there is the very real question of what happens with his relationship with Vlad--which is part of the reason I have my doubts about this possibility. In the infamous (and paraphrased) words of Mulaney(? I think it was) "if this is gonna happen Vlad is gonna need to become suddenly cool with a lot of things very fast" LMAO. I don't really see Vlad ceding his control over Charles' mind easily, and I don't see him satisfied with a future of Charles' autonomy. But then, who knows? I may very well be proven wrong

I'm also curious about Charles’ pronounced interest in Comte, this kind of hope for reconciliation. There's a very real chance that could be a focal point, in that Charles wants there to be mingling between the two houses. There are also a lot of problems with this sort of theory in that it would likely require A LOT of development/time to bridge that gap if it was ever bridged, and I don't think Comte would accept anything less than Vlad agreeing to cease and desist his assault on humanity. This potentiality might be more probable for an Act 3 story progression, now that I think about it.

As for Act 3, I'm really not sure who will or won't get one. The only storyline that has been left openly/grossly unfinished is Comte's to my knowledge, largely because of the agreement they made? In all the other routes, there isn't much of a whisper about her turning into a vampire. (Vlad turns her at the end of his route I’ve heard, and as for Faust I don’t know--but I haven’t seen any signs that he would demand it of her so far.) Comte hesitates--but he has every intention of doing it when they feel the time is right. So there's the question of when or how that will happen. In a bday story? In an event story? Act 3? Dunno

I also wonder about how pureblood society and vampire hunters might come into play, but given they exist on the periphery of the game I don’t know if it’s as safe a bet as Comte vs. Vlad continuing their ideological battle.

As for the suitors in general, there is always the potential of antagonist intervention in Act 3? Maybe they heckle their happy ending or throw the relationship into some kind of turmoil, though I'm not sure exactly how that will work since most of the routes end on a pretty resolved note? There's also the reality of all the rivals being murdered in cold blood after their duels. So like ???? Really depends on the direction Cybird wants to take. Expand on the relationship, create new issues/threats--or make Act 3 a more large scale story progression.

There’s also the possibility that the story is expanded by hinging on the timespace complications. If Vlad saw a desolate future, what does that mean for everyone? Will that come to pass--and if so, when? Will he be supported or stopped? What will that entail? Maybe Vlad sees that the desolate future was the product of his own megalomania. Maybe Vlad turns out to be right and drastic action needs to be taken before it gets that far. Whatever the case, I’m interested to see what narrative avenue Cybird will choose.

As for more suitors, I really have no idea given I haven’t seen so much as a whisper of what comes after Charles. I think my best bet would be potential pureblood suitors (maybe the product of Comte/Vlad story continuations), or more roulette famous figures in line with Vlad’s machinations to thwart the suitors. If Michelangelo comes back and throws hands with Leonardo, I will veritably lose my entire mind

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp meta #ikevamp charles #ikevamp dazai #ikevamp vlad #ikevamp comte #i hope this helps! #there are a lot of story threads cybird actively follows and many they abandon so #it can be pretty hard to tell what they'll choose #i will say that comte's events have been an interesting build-up #and i'm surprised because he's not really the title character of the game? I find usually napoleon/arthur/vlad tend to get more attention #but honestly comte seems to be the only act 2 character who gets a sizable amt of content alongside vlad (as compared to dazai/shakes/seb) #comte is the outlier in terms of steady narrative progression and consistent development #it makes me wonder if they intend to expand on it because of his conflict with vlad and his promise to mc--which allows for room to write #vlad is an obvious contender in that so much of his stance/presence in the game is about the future and how it will play out #his obsession brings with it the question of what it all really means and how it will be resolved in the end #they're probably the most likely contenders for act 3 given the larger tone of their events and room for development at the moment #man if it turns out some pureblood rando was messing with timespace and vlad and comte have to team up #i will literally laugh myself to death #anywho those are my thoughts! hope it was engaging <333 #and sorry if my simping got in the way (I try not to be biased HAHA) #💛💛💛💛💛💛 #rambles #not incorrect quotes

[gnocchighoul]

peach bubbles & cherry wine

Summary:

“Just once more, my love.” Lucifer says. You can feel the words as they move through his chest and past his lips—like the soft rumbles of a cat purring.

“Now be a good girl and spread your legs.” 

A/N: inspired by a convo about Lucifer’s bathroom with @thedemonstherapist​​ , and a drunk anon :D (definitely go check out her blog, she wrote something for this concept as well and it’s *chefs kiss*)

AO3 Portal

“Don’t move.”

“If I don’t I’ll drown!” 

“Just—fuck, here.” Lucifer hooks his hands under your arms and lifts you up, just slightly out of the water. He straightens out his legs, still holding you up with the ease of a bodybuilder lifting an orange, and yeah, you’re a little bit jealous at how strong he is.

Warm water closes around your hips as he gently lowers you back into his lap, and you can’t help but think about all of the things you could accomplish if you had that supernatural strength. For instance: you could probably lift a car, all by yourself. Or a really heavy bookcase. A sturdy one, made from really expensive wood. Pink ivorywood. Dalbergia. Or—

Oh, what is wrong with you? Who even cares about all of the theoretical things you could do with unimaginable strength when you are literally butt ass naked in a tub with Lucifer! And you accomplished this all on your own, with only the vastly underrated power of puppy eyes. 

Also, wine. So much wine. 

You swirl what’s left in your glass—the red liquid twisting in a dark vortex. It swallows up the dim light of the bathroom—looks more black than red. You know that color intimately. It’s nearly the same shade as Lucifer’s eyes—gleaming bright in the dark room as he dripped cherry wine into the hollow of your belly button—lapped at the red juice with his fleshy tongue and got you all sticky.

Which is how you ended up here, lounging together in warm, bubbly water. Not that you’re complaining.

Honestly, if you had known how nice Lucifer's personal bathroom is, you would have set out on your quest to date bone him so much sooner. 

It’s a lot like his room—far too much black. All doom and gloom and gold metal. Black floors. Black walls, carved of marble with gold veining, and a few floor to ceiling mirrors. The ceiling is a dizzying mural, saturated with (you guessed it) more black, but white and gray too. Sometimes, if you stare long enough—you think you can see shapes dancing in the fog of it. 

(Though that may just be a hallucination conjured up by your alcohol addled brain.)

The best thing about Lucifer’s bathroom though, by a landslide, is the massive tub situated right in the center of the room. Carved entirely of smoky quartz and the size of a small pool, you could quite literally spend hours lazing around in bubble bath bliss. Which you do, quite often. It’s borderline an obsession at this point.

(The first time you commandeered the bathtub, you had read an entire book in one sitting—as you were finishing up the last chapter, Lucifer had burst into the room all feathery and freaked out and totally convinced that you had managed to somehow drown yourself. A fair assumption—in his defense, you had been awfully quiet.)

With a tub like this, you would never use the shower again. And yet, for some horrible and awful reason, Lucifer insists that the shower is better. (Which is actually quite nice as well, but that’s neither here nor there.) When you had interrogated him about it, he just casually confessed that he hardly ever used the beautiful tub. Said something about 'showers are just more practical’. Pah. What does he know? Nothing, apparently.

But now? Well, it isn’t a challenge to coax him in with you.

Lucifer tips his head back against the cool ledge of the tub, eyes sliding shut. “Who’s idea was this anyways?” 

You down the rest of your wine, scrunching your face like an accordion when the bitter flavor bursts on your tongue. “Yours.” 

“That can’t be right.”

“Well it’s not left."

Lucifer groans loudly, acting like your totally great joke caused him real physical pain, and you tch at him.

You lean into him—rest the back of your head on his shoulder and set your empty wineglass aside on the broad, flat rim of the tub. His right arm snakes around your waist, tugging you up tight against his chest, fingertips tracing shapes into the side of your ribs and sending shivers racing across your skin.

You eye the mountain of white bubbles in front of you—lift a poofy handful out of the water. The smell of peaches brightens the room—all sun kissed and sweet.

You wonder if Lucifer is drunk enough to let you give him a bubble beard. 

"Hey, babe—"

"Don't even think about it." 

"Wh—you don’t even know what I was going to say!" 

Lucifer nuzzles his nose into your hair. "Keep the bubbles away from my face."

"...You’re such a killjoy sometimes." 

“Am I?” He threads his fingers through your hair—pulls slowly to tilt your head to the side and ghosts his lips over your neck, pausing to nip at your pulse point. Slides one hand over your breast, rolling your hard nipple between his soft fingers.

You feel it again, then—the pleasant ache still between your thighs, softened by the water's warmth settling into your body.

Lucifer bites down on your neck with sharp incisors, pulling a soft mewl from you.

You squirm. “Again?” 

You’re not actually surprised. Saturdays are devoted just to the two of you—marathon fucking and unwinding from the weekly chaos. It’s a necessary tradition, especially after a week like this previous one. You had barely seen your beloved, thanks to his boyfriend keeping him busy .  

(Lu has made it very clear that Diavolo isn’t his side piece, but like. Would it really be that bad if he was? You could invite him over for your Saturday Fuckfest, which is a very appealing thought. Who wouldn’t want a piece of that princely cake?)

“Just once more, my love.” Lucifer says. You can feel the words as they move through his chest and past his lips—like the soft rumbles of a cat purring. “Now be a good girl and spread your legs.”

Fuck. He sure as hell doesn’t need to tell you twice.

His fingertips skate down your stomach, deftly moving lower to brush teasingly over your clit and your head lolls back with a strangled little mewl. You turn to the side—he captures your lips with his own, swallows down your little cries. Tastes like cherry wine and dark chocolate. 

It’s too much, and not nearly enough. The damp slick of his chest against your bare back, his hand cupping your breast. He toys with you slowly, teasingly, pressing only the lightest of touches to your clit, and you want—need—more. You rock your hips back, right up against his aching cock and he hisses—pinches your nipple and slips his fingers inside of you in tandem, stretching you wide and exploring as you desperately grind against his hand.

He spent all day teasing you—pushing you to the brink and then taking his sweet time unraveling you. Playing you like a finely tuned instrument until tears pricked at your eyes and you dissolved into a begging, whimpering puddle. That fire still burns in your belly—kindled back to life, red hot and unforgiving as he presses his fingers deeper inside of you.

When it comes to fucking, Lucifer is far more patient than you are—something he’s proven a thousand times over. He enjoys it—breaking you. Ruining you. Pushing you to the brink and leaving you there, time and time again. 

But right now—you want more than just his skillful fingers.

You squirm out of Lucifer’s grip, confusing him for all of two seconds, until you turn around and straddle his strong thighs. Bubbles stick to your arms and tummy like little clouds. 

“I want you inside me.” you pout.

“Was I just not?” he says, cheekily, and you glare.

He suddenly bucks his hips up once into your own, threatening your already questionable balance—nearly sends you careening face first into his shoulder. Sudsy water sloshes over the dark rim of the tub as you steady yourself by placing both hands on his chest. You glare at his smug fucking face. 

His eyes, vibrant and jarring, meet yours—sparkling with delight. Crimson shot through with so much black that you’re not sure where the pupil ends anymore. 

You grab his chin with your slick hand—dig your fingers into his jaw and pull him into a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongue and heat. Relish the taste of his mouth and the slide of his lips, wordlessly begging for what you want.

He grins against your mouth. “Such a needy little thing.” 

You don’t entertain him with a reply—just grind your hips down on his cock, catching your throbbing clit, leaving you keening.

He sucks the plush of your bottom lip into his mouth and bites as you sink down on the heavy weight of cock, inch by agonizing inch until he’s buried to the hilt. He murmurs praise against your lips as he fills your pussy to the brim—sends white hot sparks shooting up your spine. You burn. 

Experimentally, you roll your hips. Lucifer meets you halfway—always does. Grinds his hips languidly into yours, easing the painful stretch of his cock between your walls into a pleasant fullness. There’s no urgency—he’s already ravaged your sweet, tight cunt. 

Lucifer feasts on your mewls—swallows them whole as he thrusts his hips up, sloshing more water over the tub rim. His hands dig into your hip as he grinds up into you with sharp, short jabs—buries his face into the crook of your neck and bites down hard. Draws blood to the surface and lingers there. Leaves behind berry-red marks. 

Your nipples rub against his chest and you grip his shoulders—dig your nails into the taut, firm lines of muscle. Your thighs tremble as you bounce on his cock, rocking down faster—needy. 

Heat spirals and coils in your belly, winding tighter and tighter until your blood is singing with it, leaving you breathless and dizzy and alight. He snakes a hand down between your legs—fingers finding your clit and your hips spasm, squeezing him so tight that it pulls a hiss from him.

Your climax hits you hard—steals your breath away and makes your vision all fuzzy and dark. Your walls clench and Lucifer pulls your hips down, again and again and again, spurred on by your gasping and whimpering. Dragging your tight, warm pussy on his pulsating cock as he floods your womb with his seed.

As his cock softens inside of you, he releases that bruising grip on your hips—tugs you into a close embrace with absolutely no possibility of escape, squishing your slippery breasts against his chest. Heart drumming a furious beat beneath your skin, you wrap your arms around his neck and melt into his arms. 

For a few beats, it’s silent. You can tell that he wants to say something—he’s practically buzzing with words unspoken.

You lean back to see his face properly and tap the pad of your pointer finger against his chest. “Out with it, handsome.” 

“You know that I love you.” A statement, followed up by a softer, “Right?”

A smile tugs at your lips. As if that’s even a question.  

“Well I'd certainly hope so, because you're stuck with me. Forever.”

He rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth slide upwards into that dazzling grin you love so damn much. Then he shifts his hips, reminding you that he's still very much inside of you, and nudges his cock over that little patch inside of you that makes you see sparks but is also far too sensitive right now. Your breath leaves you in one great big whoosh and you bite down hard on your swollen lip.

"You're so mean." 

Lucifer hums in agreement, looking far too thrilled by your reaction. Presses a kiss to your jaw and murmurs, "Say it back."  

"What?" 

He leans back. Searches out your gaze and meets it with his own. "Say that you love me." 

Oh.

You would think he'd be reassured by the fact that his dick is literally still inside you, but… you suppose it wouldn’t hurt to use your words, too. 

You hold his hand—link your pinky finger with his own and say, "I love you."

It’s a promise. 

You relax back into his arms, content to just sit quietly amidst the peach-scented bubbles and confessions.

…For about ten seconds.

“So… About that bubble beard…”

Lucifer scoffs. Presses a kiss to your temple and smiles there. 

He really does love you.

#woohoo this is my first smut fic *insert kermit dancing gif* #om! smut #obey me smut #obey me lemon #gnocchiwrites #obey me drabble #obey me #om! lucifer #swd obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me fanfic

[amiechuchu]

Magic, Mayhem, and All Things in Between.

There's something about magic and mayhem that just goes together so perfectly. Maybe it was because it bent the rules of science, the rules of logic.

So unreal.

So unnatural.

So chaotic.

But... Wasn't that the same as love?

[AN: It’s been awhile since I’ve written and, well, throws this at you. I hope you enjoy! I’m not a very experienced writer when it comes to things that are creative. This was also not reviewed due to time constraints of medschool HAHAH pain :’)]

Warnings: none 

Chapter 1: Problem and Hypothesis

Everything in this world was meant to have rules bound to logic – bound to science: from the concept of life till death and everything in between.

Systematic. Methodical. Logical.

Or so you thought.

It was until you were recruited by a certain Mr. Tony Stark, a very close friend of your uncle, Bruce. Confused, you asked your uncle why they needed a medical doctor. You were far from being good at grasping anything about physics, more so astrophysics. To your dismay, even your uncle was just as clueless; however, because Mr. Stark promised him that you would not be doing anything dangerous, he left him to his endeavors.

The anxiety of embarrassing yourself tugging at your throat. Your mind rambled on as you walked under the hot New York summer sun. Wiping the droplets of sweat from your forehead, you made a mental note to yourself to wear scrubs instead of slacks and a turtleneck along with your pristine white coat when in New York. Finally, you see the silhouette of the ever-popular Stark Towers. A troubled sigh came out from your mouth upon entering the building. You enjoyed the surge of sudden coolness though.

You whipped out your cellphone to text your dear Uncle that you had arrived at the lobby, asking if he could pick you up from there. Knowing your anxious tendencies, it was no surprise that he agreed, and, so, you stood there waiting, enjoying the last few moments of not being crushed by expectations.

A familiar voice called out your name as you fiddled with your phone.

Looking forward, you saw your uncle, Bruce. Your eyes lit up, and you smiled.

“It’s been a while,” Bruce said, pulling you into a hug, “how’s our little doctor?”

“Clueless and absolutely terrified,” you answered.

The both of you pulled away from the hug and began to walk towards the elevator. Your steps, out of tempo, as Bruce’s strides were difficult to catch up with. Walking beside tall people should be a sport, you thought.

Bruce let out a chuckle as he noticed your struggle. Slowing down, he reassured you, “Well, I’m certain you’ll do fine. You have an amazing brain, so full of potential – new ideas.”

“That’s the problem, uncle,” you sighed, “I absolutely have no idea what I’m doing here. I’m not an astrophysicist. I’m a physician! I’m a doctor, but they’re two different things!”

Both doctors made their way up to Stark Labs, chit-chatting along the elevator ride. Trying to catch up with your uncle.

The elevator doors opened, revealing a full-blown laboratory.

Your eyes twinkled in awe as it surveyed the area.

There was a main table right at the middle of the room decorated with a variety of beautiful glass apparatuses. Looking at the far end, you noticed that there was sophisticated machinery lined up. To its right, there was an isolated room, a little bit dimmer than the rest of the room. Squinting, you noticed a biosafety cabinet and smiled. A small hallway can be seen to the side of the said room. You ignored your uncle as you were entranced by the beauty of scientific experimentation and walked to check what that small hallway had to offer. It was just the reagent room.

That was a bit anticlimactic, you thought to yourself. Shrugging that thought away, you continue admiring the pristine white machines against the steel walls, the little laboratory trinkets that littered the table, and the faded laboratory precaution signs. This. This felt like home.

It did not take much more for you to realize that this entire floor was an experimental laboratory and a top-notch one at that. Giving a sigh of relief, at least it was something you were sure you could handle. You finally looked at your uncle, “So… You needed a doctor for actual doctor things?”

“Yes, precisely!” someone had answered. 

Looking back at the elevator, you see the one and only Mr. Tony Stark. He crossed his arms, “We need a medical doctor to do medical doctor-y things.”

You had mumbled a confused okay, hoping to get more context of what you are actually here in this lab for. Tony extended his arm to the duo that accompanied him. Two tall men exuding absolute polar opposite auras.

Your brow raised, still visibly confused. Your uncle giving a deadpanned look at Tony, begging him to just tell his niece the details.

“Okay…” Tony clapped, the sound bouncing off the steel walls, “Uh, Thor, Prince of Asgard, here will be your personal test subject. Reindeer games, Prince of Asgard’s brother is just here, so your uncle dearest can babysit him.” Thor, the blond, waved and gave a light hello. Reindeer games, on the other hand – you assumed he was talking about the tall, raven-haired, brooding man – furrowed his brows at Tony, visibly insulted.

Why Reindeer games, though? And Asgard what place is that? The longer I’m here the more questions I ask I swear to God.

“You see, these two are gods. Literal gods,” Tony continued.

You blinked in disbelief.

“Gods?” you asked, eyes wide-open, voice filled with skepticism, “you’re joking. I can believe mutations and possibly aliens, but gods? If you’re playing a prank on me, you have to try better than that, Mr. Stark.” You gave off a light laugh and looked at your uncle. Bruce, giving you a nervous smile, and nodded.

Oh, he’s serious.

Tony Stark smirked at you, enjoying your visible confusion. The man of iron knew you were an unbeliever when it comes to things that bend the concept of reality. Your uncle wanted it to stay that way to keep you safe from this line of work, but there were more pressing matters to attend to, or so he assumed. Again, he was kept in the dark by Tony. However, you were accepting of it so long as the data matched.

He glanced at Tony, curious at what this plan of his was. You, on the other hand, were staring intensely at the duo, mentally asking how in the world were they gods?

Your eyes met the raven-haired God's, entranced by his emerald, green ones. There was a glint in his eyes that spelled trouble, or so you’d think.

It would be a terrible lie that Loki didn’t enjoy your naivety towards the existence of Gods like him. Something in him felt like

“Mortals,” he thought, “so weak, so pitiful, so naïve.”

Tony broke the tension, “So… The reason why you’re here, little doc, is Thor here will be your personal Bugs Bunny. The goal is to identify whatever he has in his system that us, non-gods, can be able to utilize.”

Thor raised an eyebrow and muttered, "So... I'm going to be turned into a rabbit? How? Is my brother going to conjure something for that?" He looked at the other with bright eyes, excited for his rabbit-faith.

You smiled at this interaction but gave out an exasperated sigh as you tried to wrap your head around everything, “What you’re saying here, Mr. Stark, is that I come up with, say, a serum that could help turn cute little, tiny mortals like me into a god?”

Loki rolled his eyes at her statement.

How could cute little, tiny mortals like you ever turn into a god? Midgardians were meant to be used, ruled, subjugated.

Then, something clicked in him. The God of Mischief smirked. 

You looked over to him, confused. Was there anything wrong with what you just said?

“Hmmm, yeah that’s about right. Or anything really. You have free reign over your very own Bugs Bunny here, little doc. You’ve done a fair share of research regarding whatever makes the body tick. What’s so different about doing it on a god?”

You paused. He was right. Good point.

You were horribly curious regarding what makes a god, a god.

“Alright, so for the benefit of humanity, I’m here performing experiments on Thor-“

“Bugs Bunny, yes."

You could've sworn there was a twinkle in Thor's eyes.

“Alright. I’m in.”

This is going to be a fun scheme, Loki thought.

The room was filled with the sound of  your heels pacing to-and-fro. Because Tony had not given you any context regarding his request, you had no method to begin with - no plan. You held your arms close to you, with a hand resting under your chin making a stern thinker-like expression. All eyes were on you, and you absolutely hated the feeling. You now had more expectations to live up to, and, oh dear did that anxiety pool to your chest, scratching at your throat. 

A plan. I needed a plan.

Loki, observing from afar, entertained by your meltdown. It was interesting to Loki that you, a mortal who was just dragged out of the blue to participate in that Man of Iron’s scheme, was already devoted to the betterment of mankind. He scoffed at this saying. Mortals would never be on the level of gods like him. They were meant to be ruled, subjugated, and used. The raven-haired god’s eyes followed your pacing, attempting to understand how the little mortal’s brain worked, how he would be able to use her to scheme his way out of this hell hole.

He peered over to Bruce, and Bruce did the same. Except, there was anger written all over his face. His brows furrowed and lips pulled to a frown. As if, telepathically, he was telling Loki not to try anything funny to his niece or he was going to snap him in two. The god could’ve sworn that Bruce began turning green for a split second. However, this did not faze him, knowing that the uncle’s beloved niece was nearby. Loki raised a brow to him, feigning innocence, and shifted his gaze back to the pacing doctor.

You were pulled to your own world. A world filled with research designs, methods, and principles. So deep in thought, you had blocked everything and everyone in your periphery. Unbeknownst to you, the God of Thunder had put his hand on your shoulder and laughed, pulling you out of your science-inhabited mind, and laughed. Your ears rang. The sound of tinnitus followed thereafter.

“Perhaps the little doctor’s thoughts have travelled past Asgard! So, have you devised a plan that turns me into a rabbit as what the Man of Iron said?” Thor boomed, his laughter reverberating through the laboratory. You flinched, not used to sounds so boisterous.

Loud. But, a sign of reassurance. You murmured an apology to Thor for having to intervene with your internal thoughts. 

You closed your eyes and exhaled, trying to pull yourself together. Until, you felt a light tug on your shoulder. 

Curious and confused, you opened your eyes to the direction and found Loki’s gaze set on you. He gave you an apologetic smile, seeing that you flinched slightly to the loudness of his brother. You smiled back at him, warmly. 

“You don’t have to worry, little doctor,” the God of Mischief began. His voice, silvery - like ear candy - filling up the gaps of awkwardness that you had oh-so naturally set up. Shooting a glance at his babysitter, he carefully made his way towards you, as if he was trekking through landmines. “Knowing that you were just dragged into this nonsense, it’s understandable that you don’t know where to start.” 

You watched as Loki made his way to your periphery. The room filled, once more, with the slow pitter-patter of boots. 

Up close, he was tall and imposing. Raven curls slicked back and so chaotically organized, draping the sides of his face and accentuating his jawline. sharp, it could cut a man. Eyes so alluring, yet so full of mystery. Then it hit you, the god was attractive - very attractive. 

“You know, it’s rude to stare,” Loki gave a low chuckle, snapping you back to reality, “but I suppose I do have that effect on everyone.”

Flustered, you immediately put your hands in the pockets of your pristine white coat, looked away, and choked on an apology. You were having word vomit. You, a professional, was caught admiring a person - a deity - that you had just met. A shame.

“I am terribly, terribly sorry. I didn’t know what-” and so began the second wave of your word vomit.

The sound of joyful, boisterous laughter rang in your ears again, and, once more, pulled you out of your trance.

“Now, brother, you’ve just met her! No need to start bullying the maiden,” Thor echoed. Playfully, he slapped Loki’s back as a sign of brotherly affection. 

Loki stiffened at this action. “A little softer next time brother,” he mumbled and got his bearings together, “I apologize for that. I didn’t mean to. I just have the habit of playing tricks on people.” He stole a glance towards Bruce, who still had his guard up. 

The God of Mischief extended out his hand, “I am Loki of Asgard, Son of Odin, God of Mischief.”

taglist: @gaycatlord-stuff <3

#loki/reader #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki/you #loki imagine #amie drabbles #magic mayhem and all things in between #mmaatib

[59writes]

SEVENTEEN- SCENARIO: HAVING AN ALT PARTNER (PERFORMANCE UNIT)

VOCAL • HIP HOP • PERFORMANCE

Last but most definitely not least, the boys with the moves 🙌🙌

again! don’t be shy, feel free to reach out or request!! I’d love to have some anon buddies lol. I promise I’m nice haha!!

also hi Jun’s is about kandi I had to self indulge a little lol (which is why it’s so long omg) I make kandi and it’s literally the best pastime and the culture around it is super cool too so I had to add it in haha!!

🌈🌈🌈!!!PLUR!!! 🌈🌈🌈

tw: food maybe (?)

JUN

• you guys met on complete accident

• he was walking to the company, you on your way home

• and he bumps into you and one of your bracelets hooks onto his bag and it snaps

• you’re both shocked by the sound, watching the beads bounce into the street while people shoved past you both, glaring at you both for blocking the way

• and even though Junhui is late he stoops down to pick up the beads

• you stop him quickly

• “don’t worry, I have more beads at home”

• and he’s like “wait woah you made this” because it’s intricate and pretty and a little pixel art cat that he accidentally ruined ):

• but he feels so bad, and wants to pay you back somehow cuz the bracelets are so cute and he broke one!!! he cannot get over it!!!

• even when you assure him it’s fine he looks so concerned you have to give in

• so you give him your number, telling him to text you when he can and you can work something out

• and at the company he considers it all day

• he, an idol, just got a number from someone on the street. all because he messed up and then insisted to be in your life

• was this a good idea?

• Seungcheol hears about it eventually, and says to give it a chance

• “your friends are in another country, Jun. make some here too. plus you’re stressed, and it’s probably best to get any weight off your shoulders you can.”

• and so he texts you

• and plan to go to a cat cafe (his treat) on his next day off

• when he walks into the cafe you greet him with a beaming smile

• “I have a gift for you.” You grin, pulling something out of your bag

• and like, Jun almost disagrees, like “no I’m supposed to be apologizing to you” but then be sees what you’re offering

• a little cat bracelet just like the one he broke the other day

• he reaches out for it but you shake your head

• “there’s a special way to do it, here.”

• you give him a rundown on the style of bracelet, called kandi

• and you explain they’re meant to be traded

• “and there’s a secret handshake to trade with, ok? just do what I do.”

• peace, love, unity…

• and he’s suddenly holding your hand

• you slip the bracelet onto his wrist before letting go, grinning as he examines his new accessory

• “I’m y/n, by the way.”

• “Junhui.”

• you chat and play with the cats that come to visit your table

• you take off one of your kandi rings at one point and gently loop it around one of the kittens’ paws

• Jun hasn’t had this much fun in a while, much less been in such a positive environment

• as you were bright and cheery as you made kissy noises at the cats to offer them snacks

• always had something new to say or observe

• and when it was time to leave he really didn’t want to go

• you don’t either, but you have an appointment you can’t miss

• so you promise to do it again soon, giving Jun a quick hug and a wave before dashing off

• Jun can’t keep his eyes off the bracelet as he goes back to the company, running his fingers along the peyote weave

• he spends the rest of the night reading about kandi and kandi kid culture

• and everyone involved is so happy, and their bracelets?? like holy shit.

• he thought yours was good but some of these people had massive and intricate kandi

• the next time you meet, he asks if you can teach him how to make kandi

• and your face lights up!!

• the next few meetups he learns, little by little

• passing the bracelet to you if he can’t get part of it right

• and he just keeps getting surprised by your patience when you have to undo rows, your bubbly spirit calming a bit as you focus on a pattern

• and one day you invite him to a rave

• and yo he’s so nervous ??? but he wants to go so bad ???

• you promise him you guys can leave it early, because eventually you get overwhelmed too

• so he agrees

• you meet at your apartment, Jun shy as you flit around and drape him with more kandi

• you ask him to sit still as you paint a tiny design on his face in UV paint, hand resting on his jaw to keep him still

• and when you gleefully spin him around to look at himself in the mirror he’s just. wow.

• a line of heart stickers on his cheek, a necklace made from kid toys draped around his neck, and of course, endless bracelets

• this was so cool.

• the rave was even better.

• Jun got used to the flashing lights and eccentric music very quickly, mostly following behind as you greeted people and traded bracelets

• and then you turn and pull him out to the dance floor

• and that shit is like a fever dream.

• adrenaline, glitter, and neon lights fill your veins as you both dance for hours

• eventually too tired to keep up, you fall into Jun’s arms, laughing

• and he’s grinning too (:

• you leave shortly after that, walking home in the dark

• you stop to sit at a park bench, and Jun says he has a surprise

• he holds out his hand

• peace, love, unity, respect

• and slips a bracelet onto your arm

• he did it completely himself, as you’d never seen the design before

• it’s of a cat with a rainbow tail, along with his name spelled out in pixels

• and you look up at Jun, whose eyes are filled with anticipation

• and you give him a huge hug

• and he thanks you for showing him this diverse underground world full of color in the night; a way to break out of his shell a little

• and damn I guess you can’t help but hold back an “I love you”

• and he feels the glitter surge back into his veins

• and the feeling never leaves again (:

HOSHI

• Soonyoung always thought photographers were more likely to stay out of the lens’ view, but you proved him wrong

• when you introduced yourself as his photographer for the magazine shoot you were working on, he couldn’t help but feel like you should be in front of the camera, not him

• like holy shit. the beads and chains that engulfed your arm and shimmered in the dim lights. the clips nestled in your hair that were shaped like cartoon spiders. the patches for bands he’d never heard of on every square inch of your camera bag.

• he’s polite and energetic the whole shoot, and to be honest maybe you take a little longer than usual to line up closeups of his face

• after all he deserves the best photos (:

• once you’re finished you agree to meet again at Pledis the next day, just to review the photos

• and Soonyoung spends the whole night hyping himself up lol

• you look just as cool as the day before, if not better, and he manages to compliment you without a problem (practice pays off!!)

• he wants to see more of your photos, and you offer him a ticket to a portfolio viewing you’re having

• he shows up without telling you, taking his time to walk through the gallery and examine each photo

• and they’re so dynamic, perfectly balanced, mysterious. he can’t help but get lost in each one, not even noticing you staring at him

• you, heart warm from his wonder and genuine interest

• he was soon a common subject and reviewer of your photography

• and you were soon a common staple of his, Soonyoung trying to be with you at every opportunity

• he invites you over for movie nights with the other guys

• if you show up in your usual outfits he whines about how you’re all pokey and he can’t lay on your arm without getting stabbed ):<

• luckily you own soft sweatshirts that still look super cool so it’s a win/win

• he’s so adoring of everything you do omg

• every interest of yours is now his interest too

• and he’ll always be by your side, curious and wide-eyed, always ready for the next adventure with you

• whether it be through clothes, or photos, or even just the park

• you’re what makes it special (:

MINGHAO

• dude. he’d lose his shit in the best way possible.

• have you seen this man??? his sense of style??? he’d be drooling in seconds lol

• you’d catch him watching you as you intern at Pledis, sketching up scenes in the corner

• finishing your degree required film to turn in, and you managed to snag an internship with the production crew for Seventeen

• a successful music video for a major group would definitely save your grade lol

• every dance practice, you’d be in the corner, wedged against the mirrors, huddled over your sketchbook as you designed

• and of course you watched them dance, you had to encapsulate the emotion somehow

• during a water break, one of the members plops down next to you and introduces himself as Minghao

• his hair is damp with sweat, sleeveless shirt clinging to his chest

• and he asks to see your ideas

• the concept is focused on the ideas of identity, and your current plan was sketches of each member as the background

• you could animate them slowly turning into each member, and you explain the idea to Minghao as he very gently flips through the pages, fingers hardly touching the pages

• he lingers on his own page

• “you didn’t sketch anyone else’s face this detailed.”

• “you’re pretty.” You say simply, reaching for the book back

• he grins at his lap.

• he sits next to you every day now, always eager to see your designs

• but more often he wants to see your other works

• and when you tell him you and your friends made most of your clothes he’s dumbstruck

• “can you make some for me?”

• you laugh and he apologizes for being so straightforward

• but the next day you bring in a trench coat you’ve been illustrating

• cutting diamonds into the sleeves and lining them with neon thread

• the half-finished painting on the back your friend started working on

• and as you proudly explain the coat’s background Minghao can’t help but want to join in too

• the way your face lights up when you speak about it, how gently you fold the fabric, how you adjust the collar on him so it looks just right

• eventually you begin to hang out outside of the company

• and you take him to craft stores when you need supplies or new clothes to ruin

• and he has such a good eye oh my god

• and his long fingers pick up sewing so easily

• and many hours are spent on your apartment floor quietly snipping, painting, lacing

• minghao wears his clothes with pride, especially the ones you make for him

• you go out one day, both of you completely dressed in your own designs

• and Minghao has never felt this beautiful before

• and when he sees your outfit he can’t help but wrap you in a huge hug

• he’s proud: of himself, of you, of the creativity and passion and hours put into these clothes

• and he admits he’d like to keep that feeling around a lot more

• and so your time in the city becomes a date

• and behind the music video sets becomes a spot to hide and snuggle

• you still sketch him sometimes

• when he doesn’t notice

• when he’s too focused on choreo, or reading a book, or laughing at the other boys goofing around

• because you’re proud of him, too

• and when he sheepishly admits he’s been doing the same, pushing over his own sketchbooks filled with endless drawings, improving page by page

• you know he’s your other half.

DINO

• Dude he’d be so flustered

• he straight up would just. not know what to say and would probably be defensive whenever you talk to him so he might come off as rude ):

• it would take time for him to warm up to you

• but when he does it’s clear he can’t get you out of his head

• as a choreographer, you had to spend a lot of time with the performance line

• and in this case, specifically Chan, as he has a solo

• and just seeing you look so damn rad even when you’re slowly walking him through potential choreo,,,, homeboy is gonna break down and try and defend himself

• the first few days are awkward because he’s drawn back and a little hostile

• but you force him to get lunch with you after a particularly rough morning, just to try to have a better relationship

• you guys didn’t finish the choreo that afternoon, choosing to sit on the studio floor and talk

• the next day he’s still quiet, but shyly rather than defensively

• and he can’t seem to get his arms right, and you have to go over there and straighten his arms for him, rings digging into his biceps

• and even though he tries to hide his grin you know it’s what he wanted

• eventually your job is done and you’re ready to head to the next performer, or go plan choreo for another group

• and Chan shuffles up and even though his cheeks are red he manages to ask you out

• and how could you say no?

#svt #svt fic #svt scenarios #svt reactions #performance unit #jun #Junhui #hoshi #soonyoung #minghao #myungho #dino #lee Chan #svt x reader #x reader #kpop x reader #alt reader

[letters-from-eros]

I know you don't have rules for that already but can I ask for relationship hc's for Chuuya and Dazai with a fem or gender neutral s/o?😳❤

A/N: Am I foaming from the mouth for my first BSD request? Maybe. I hope this is good though. I added in a short part on how they asked you out cause I wanted this to be different and unique from most dating HCs.

Pairing(s): Dazai Osamu, Chuuya Nakahara x GN!Reader

Warnings: Slight mention of suicide in Dazai's, cursing

Form: Headcanon

Also: These ran super duper long I'm so sorry

You managed to cuff the suicidal maniac, huh?

Well done, my friend, well done

It took him so long to ask you out, and even when he did it wasn't planned. In all honesty, he never planned to tell you about his feelings. The excruciating part for him is that he did fall pretty fast, and realized he was falling even faster.

He didn't deny them, that wouldn't make it go away. He knew that. He sat and let it festered, hoping it would just disappear at some point.

Had the mindset of anything he loved he'd lose, y'know? Sad but so.

The way I'd imagine it happening is that you both are either working late at the ADA (with just the two of you there) or just at his place hanging out into all hours of the night.

Both of you are laughing at some dumb joke Dazai made and as the laughter dies out he feels.. Bittersweet. You make him feel genuinely happy, like there's no need to put on any mask or facade. That was not a feeling he had with anyone else.

Once silence fully overtakes you both it slips out of his mouth, purely on accident.

"I love you"

"More than suicide?"

"Y/n I'm serious!"

From that night forward you had the pleasure of being the partner of Dazai Osamu, with his feelings being released in an extremely cliche coming-of-age-movie way.

Okay, onto actually dating Dazai

Still goofy as all hell. Honestly the only thing that has really changed is the he lets you in a lot less hesitantly on small things. Its easier to put cracks in his walls, per se

Unbothered by PDA and will probably make out with you in public and not see why that isn't a thing that should be done or why you wouldn't like it.

(Just tell him if you don't, he'll get over it eventually)

Will kiss you everywhere, doesn't exactly have a favorite place, but where he does end up kissing you the most is your forehead for convenience. He'll kiss your wrist if he's holding your hand, too.

Clingy as all hell, always wants to be touching you in some way and becomes the biggest dramatic bitch when he can't be around you.

Kunikida will actually punt him if he says he'll die if he's away from you for another second. For the tenth time

No more suicide attempts once you two are dating, and doesn't ask for a double suicide with you because he knows it'll upset you quite a bit

He flirts with you like he's trying to get you to date him lmao he will never ease up, especially if it gets you bashful.

Dazai would NOT be dating you if he did not trust you a whole lot, so thats something that is pretty vital to the relationship.

That being said, please be understanding of the pieces of Dazai he keeps locked away to never see the light of day again and trust him just as much as he trust you. Its important especially if you don't want the relationship to be one-sided

Also with the high amount of trust he places in you, he doesn't get jealous easily. I mean he may get pissy that you're not giving him any attention but jealous is never the right word to use

Mf finally washes his fucking clothes once he starts dating you. Doesn't smell like the bottom of the ocean on a regular basis anymore.

Dates are always chill and rarely super extravagant. Park dates are often but Dazai's truly preferred date is snuggling inside, watching a few movies and slipping in and out of naps.

Belladonna is his go-to petname for you, of course, but he may bounce around with other petnames for kicks.

He will start calling you weird shit if you ignore him for to long.

Never raises his voice at you unless its in some joking manner. On the rare occurrence that you two have an argument he would need to get extremely riled up before he resorts to raising his voice. He tries to have patience and usually succeeds.

Dazai gets SO soft and SO loving sometimes, and it can be out of no where or something minuscule could have sparked it. All I know is that its nice and cute 🥰

He's usually pretty vulnerable himself when he gets like that so match his energy, alright? If you don't he might end up a little sour for some short amount of time and be more hesitant to get like that

10/10 Lover. This is by no means an effortless relationship, its a constant battle of figuring out boundaries, running into walls and respecting them. Dating Dazai isn't toxic if you treat him right and when you do? It definitely pays off.

(This got so long. I've had so much pent-up Dazai love and all around BSD love and I finally had an outlet to completely let it out)

HUSBAND. THE LOML

Okay, sorry. But this man is the love of my life, and he will be yours as well.

Took him a while to really figure out his feelings for you, or to better put it, it took him a while to label the feeling he had towards you "love"

But ONCE HE DID mans was practically whipped before you officially started dating omg.

You could notice the shift in attitude when he figured out his feelings. He got nervous, went stiff and blushy all against his will. Maybe a tad bit more snappy.

He'd try to keep his cool and then just eat shit and become a babbling angry mess.

After every encounter and interaction with you he'd end up overthinking all of it and when he catches himself doing that he gets so upset with himself. It's really when he realized that he won't be able to keep his feelings a secret forever.

Definitely started avoiding you when planning on the 🌈perfect🌈 way to ask you out and blamed work if you asked him why he was avoiding you.

Anyway, the way he asks you out was almost as calculated as a proposal.

He asks you to meet him at the port and dress comfortably towards the end of the day

When you get there, Chuuya has a nice place set up for you both. A blanket and a bottle of expensive wine because we all know he's lowkey an alcoholic along with a very nice view of the ocean/port.

Chuuya made sure it didn't radiate too much romantic energy to give his plans away; also, he wasn't that nervous. Once he gets truly determined to do something, he doesn't let something like anxiety get in the way of it. The idea of being rejected was essentially an afterthough

Made an effort to make sure he didn't drink too much and neither did you. He didn't want to take advantage of the possibility of you being drunk by the time he asks you out and he knows he himself has a low tolerance

Once the sun began to set is when he asks. Stutters a little bit towards the beginning but smooths it out.

"Y/n, I uh.. I brought you to tell you that I love you."

"Have you drank too much already, Chuuya?"

"No! I'm completely sober!"

It was overall super cute and unforgettable, just as he planned.

Honestly, being in a relationship with this boy is just 🥰

Spoils you so much. You'll deadass be dripped out head to toe purely in stuff Chuuya has bought you.

Dw, he has an alright sense of fashion

Don't try to discourage him, that'll only get him to buy more stuff.

Chuuya's short and the concept of a size difference doesn't bother him at all, he'll find a way to kiss you regardless lol

On the topic of kissing, his favorite places are your lips and hands

He takes of his gloves whenever he's with you and let me tell you his hands are the softest things ever. Albeit his knuckles are a little calloused sometimes.

If you're anything like me, you'd want his soft hands on you 24/7 and y'know what? Chu would happily oblige.

He isn't like the biggest fan of PDA but certainly isn't against it. He'd rather keep things behind doors as much as he can. Holding hands and small kisses on the cheek are very fine by him.

He isn't like the biggest jealous type? He doesn't become overly irate or anything but certainly doesn't take any pleasure in watching you talk to other guys.

Chuuya does have some form of self restraint when it comes to that. Him getting a lil jealous is one of the only things that'll have him completely make-out with you in public or smth

Chuuya is very snuggly and touchy behind closed doors. He practically becomes Dazai but a lot less goofy

Oh yeah he definitely rants about how much he fucking hates Dazai now n again

Isn't huge on petnames but definitely calls you them every now and again.

Princess, babe and baby are his top few.

Chuuya definitely has a morning voice where it drops 2 octaves and its just 🥰

Never yells at you, its pretty shocking. The only times he's ever raised his voice with you is when its very obvious that he's not genuinely upset with you. Almost for comedic affect because it is angry short boy Chuuya

One may think arguments are often with Chuuya, but they're sort of not. He may be a pretty stubborn individual but he never argues to argue unless its Dazai-

He always works towards and agreement to end the argument as soon as possible. He keeps his cool and will never raise his voice. You can barely call them arguments because of how much he tries to keep his cool.

When he's stressed or had a bad day he gets extremely quiet because he doesn't even want the opportunity to open his mouth and take it out on you. The only words he'll say to you while he's in that state is that he's stress and you didn't do anything wrong just to make sure you're not worried over it.

All and all? Chuuya is the best and there's no way around it. He has his faults but always tries to improve and be his best self for you :)

(I had even more pent-up love for Chuuya and it got even longer, whoops-)

#bungou stray dogs x reader #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai headcanons #chuuya headcanons #gn!reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd headcanons #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungou stray dogs headcanons #hopefully thats enough tags. i hope you enjoyed my bsd debut

[keilemlucent]

lavender latte: iii

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1   ||   chapter 2   ||   chapter 4

word count: 4.2k

a cheeky drink and some mutual sabotage. 

warnings: oh no, they say s*x, fluff, pining, the usual, and a wittle angst on the side, reader smokes cigs bc its a salem trademarked fic thing

enjoy folks ;^) the whole of this piece is gonna be about? ten chapters. so. hold on tight!!!

beta read by @keiqos, heart EYES

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“Let that sit for a second or you’ll burn yourself—”

“Don’t need to tell me twice, angel. I know the drill.” Hawks replied with a wink.

You weren’t ever going to get tired of that.

You really expected Hawks to disappear out of your life. You really, truly expected him to run off for good. How many bigger, better, and more important things did he have to do? Even if you managed to speak to him and regard him like any other customer (or, perhaps acquaintance, and more recently, friend — ), your mind swam with insecurities that only seemed to get worse over time.

You were waiting for the metaphorical thread to snap.

You waited for the day Hawks simply would stop texting you flirty bullshit on a somewhat regular basis.

But, holy fuck, the dude didn’t.

 You couldn’t think of why. You weren’t complaining about the attention, but you also were terrified of getting too used to it. Hawks was a part... bird (?) right? He was flighty by nature.

Despite this, Hawks continued to not only text you but also stopped by the shop fairly frequently for his special, quirk-fueled beverage fix. Politely, he’d text you the day before he planned to make an appearance to check and see if you were working, and then show up the next day like it was nothing. 

He usually wouldn’t stay for long; the hero was ungodly busy and always on the move. But, he always took the time to flirt and get a full description of his drink before dashing out to save the world once more. 

Most days he visited were his ‘hero work’ days. He’d appear in his costume, done up and dashing for a sip and a quick talk before disappearing once more into the skies. Every once in a while, Hawks had an ‘office’ day where he’d be confined to his agency to catch up on his insane backlog of paperwork. On these occasions, Hawks would talk (stall) at the tea shop for as long as possible. You talked and joked with him as long as he would let you. Sure, it put you behind on work, but no one at the shop was going to tell you off for fraternizing with the number two hero (whose repeated presence was drawing more customers anyways). You both reveled in each other's attention, drinking in the other’s slowly softening smiles and quick wit. 

 On this day, Keigo’s wings were the shittiest they had been in a while. Plucked and almost barren with how much he’d been working lately. Total exhaustion seemed like it was constantly on the horizon, tugging as his eyelids and weighing down his chest each morning.

It was easier to get out of bed when he got to think about seeing you.

Sure, your drinks were a perk. Very much so. He was getting so used to the artisan beverages you crafted that the taste of his normal canned coffee was starting to bother him. 

But, what his real thrill in visiting the tea shop was that he got to see you, and that made his heart pound. 

He sat across from you, looking down into your newest drink. It swirled between dark and milky, a heady, rich aroma billowing up with the steam it produced. He had requested something ‘surprising, new, and horribly caffeinated’ as deep fatigue was the worst villain he’d likely see that day. You had just nodded, cheekily starting to prepare his drink with a bounce in your step, pupils going wide. 

“I feel like you’re gonna start running out of ideas one of these days,” Keigo laughed, adjusting himself on his stool, gloves and jacket removed. He almost looked like a normal patron.

 You grinned to yourself, idly cleaning around you as you often did, “I dunno, I’ve got a lot.”

Hawks raised an eyebrow, “Tell me about them.”

“Nope, top-secret,” You shook your head, digging into your apron to flash him the small notepad you carried on you.

Scrawled in nasty handwriting, you carried your many ‘feeling’ ideas around with you. Different concepts and abstractions all scribbled down, a nice long list to look back on whenever Hawks would make his appearances and his own vague requests. Your backlog of ideas made it easy to find something more than suitable to make for him.

When Hawks saw your notepad his eyes widened, tilting his head and a devious smirk coming to his lips.

Your expression fell, and you stuffed the papers back into your pocket, hiding your hot face by idly cleaning some more. 

You left yourself very open for teasing, it seemed.

(Not that you or Keigo minded.)

“You keep a little list of all of your ideas! I’m beyond flattered,” Hawks ran a hand through his hair, flashing a cocky smile for you. 

“I have to stay prepared, can’t be disappointing my celebrity sugar daddy,” You winked as Hawks’s eyes went wide, half-hearing a choke get caught in his throat. (You loved it when you were able to get him visibly flustered. What a treat.) You nodded down to the drink, “Should be good to try now.” 

 Keigo really liked spending time with you. He knew it was always fleeting and short and consistently he wanted to find reasons to stay with you at the tea shop counter for longer and longer. Your quips and chides continued to get quicker and more clever and he was having an increasingly difficult time keeping his cool around you. Most of the time he smoothed himself easily, not showing a trace other than that which he neurologically couldn’t control. 

But sometimes, you were bold enough and ballsy enough to get him to gag on his literal words and he was positive that you were the only person to ever have him break composure in such a way. 

He covered his weakened poise by sipping the new drink, mindfully letting the taste wash over his tongue.

Increasingly, you’d been changing up the so-called ‘vibe’ of your beverages. It seemed like each time Keigo dropped in, you had something new and vibrant to show him. 

This drink was particularly different.

The taste was rich, dark, and smooth, rolling into the back of his throat and down his spine. It coated his insides with a warm, low heat. Peeking through were sweet, light accents, warm but almost... teasing?

His dick twitched.

 Hawks’s mouth dropped open, any and all professional veneers dropped as you just beamed so fucking smugly at him. 

“What do you think?” You leaned a bit forward, bouncing on your toes with excitement.

“Is... Is this supposed to taste like sex?” Hawks asked, taking another mouthful to confirm. Based on the way his eyes briefly shut and some of the tension rolled from his shoulders, he thoroughly confirmed it.

“Technically, it’s crafted based on like... a late-night rendezvous. I left it fairly up to interpretation beyond that. The rest is on you.” You shrugged, still bouncing as Hawks took another chug.

“What the fuck, (Y/N),” Pleasant shock colored his features, but clear amusement stretched across his lips as he continued to drink. 

“You wanted something surprising and horribly caffeinated. That’s a dark chocolate mocha with two extra shots, our in-house raspberry and rhubarb syrup, a bit of white chocolate syrup, and a few of my add-ins as well. It’s pretty different from what I’ve made you before,” You blinked at him, stomach twisting as his expression remained unguarded. “I... I probably should’ve asked before giving you a drink that definitely could’ve been taken as sex. That’s my bad. I can remake you something else if you’d like?”

 Keigo shook himself from his stupor, shaking his head and quickly regaining his composure. He took another sip to emphasize his words, “No, nope. It’s okay. Definitely okay. The drink is really good. I’m just now wondering something.”

“And, what’s that?” You asked, reaching behind the counter to grab your own iced beverage.

“Can your quirk be used to manifest bad feelings and concepts, just like good ones?” Keigo asked. Normally, he’d add more nuance, but he was getting impatient and sloppy around you. He’d have to keep that in check.

Especially with the way your shoulders drew up and tensed. You turned a bit away from him, any and all potential for eye contact torn away.

He hit a nerve.

“The type of abstract feeling doesn’t matter, I can emulate it,” You replied, pulling at your nails. Keigo had long picked up that it was one of your habits when your anxiety spiked. 

He dropped it, but didn’t forget. There were public files on quirks. Maybe he’d look into it. Maybe. It felt a bit invasive, but considering plenty of that data was freely accessible, it hardly was an invasion of privacy, right? 

(Except for the fact that it obviously made you very uncomfortable to discuss the more unsavory potentials of your quirk.) 

(He just wouldn’t tell you.)  

Keigo switched topics, easily rolling away from the topic, “Any particular... event that inspired this one?” 

You pressed your hands into the counter, leaning over it to glare at him, “Are you referring to something with that comment, Hawks?”

He shuddered when you said his name, but you don’t notice. 

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” Keigo shrugged easily, going for another sip.

 The drink was inspired by the several day cinematic, wine-bender you went on a week or two prior. An entire weekend with just you, your cats, three entire bottles of wine, and a backlog of movies to catch up on. You tried to consume lots of different types of media, but what had been catching your eye lately had been anything with gushy romance for fairly obvious reasons.

(There was an embarrassing amount of ideas for drinks that were a bit too romantic to properly indulge with your quirk. You’d never tested the limits of how certain feelings could manifest, and you weren’t quite ready to face the reality where you could make people nut from caffeinated milk.)

“It is good though, the drink,” Hawks smacked his lips together as if it would make his coming analysis more credible. “It definitely does taste like sex, but more so complicated. Darker.”

“Deeper.” You smiled. “Your palette is getting more refined. I’m proud.”

“Are you saying it was bad to begin with?” Hawks pouted, flashing you falsely weepy eyes and a puffed out lip.

You rolled your eyes, “Yes, you yourself have admitted this. You drink canned coffee still, so I can’t even call your taste good.”

Hawks gasped, putting a hand to his chest, “I’m hurt, truly wounded.”

“I’m sure you are, tailfeathers.”

“I really thought I had reliably moved up to ‘birdboy’, angel.”

You snorted, covering your mouth with your hand, “Just goes to show how quickly the tables turn, tailfeathers.”

Hawks’s pager suddenly chimed, a familiar sign. He took a quick look at it and sighed, moving to re-robe. You were surprised by the speed at which he did so, and the way he became tense so quickly. 

It made you realize that he was always tense.

(Unless he was talking to you.)

“I thought today was an office day?” You asked, a bit of a disappointment clouding your voice.

Hawks just gave a small smile, fully plastering back on his heroic facade, “Duty calls. Lots happening lately.”

He flicked his visor back over his eyes, slid you your normalized wad of cash, and whisked himself out the door, immediately taking to the skies from the streets.

He’s in a bit of a hurry.

He... didn’t even say goodbye. 

Wonder what’s happening?

 Truthfully, Keigo was a bit startled by the notice on his pager. The whole reason he’d started patrolling the particular neighborhood the tea shop was in was because there was word of a villain syndicate working nearby. It hardly seemed right for the neighborhood, but Keigo knew that villains hid anywhere. Whatever they were planning was still relatively shrouded, but it was clear that it needed to be treated delicately. That particular neighborhood was rife with pedestrians, businesses, and homes and any sort of villainous activity had the possibility of reaping a heavy amount of collateral damage. Keigo and the Commission had been on their guards about it, but things had been steadily becoming more intense over the past few weeks. 

Plopping himself on a rooftop, Keigo took up residence to stake out his newest lead, watching figures and silhouettes in a nearby office building.

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 Funnily enough, the rest of your week went horribly. Just downright shitty. You figured at some point, things would let up, brighten, but they didn’t. Each day brought some new, personal calamity. 

The first was a trip to the emergency vet with one of your cats after she swallowed a hair tie. An expensive vet bill later, she was perfectly healthy, but you remained wracked with anxiety. 

Another day, the owner of the tea shop paid a visit to chew you out for your newest tea blends not fulfilling his picky seasonal requests. You were relieved it had nothing to do with how Hawks monopolized your time. Still, getting yelled at easily within earshot of both coworkers and customers made your insides twists. 

The final small disaster was when a particularly asshole-ish customer chucked a hot drink all over you and your cute white sweater. One of the younger openers had been dealing with a difficult patron and an incorrect order, nothing out of the ordinary. When you tried to step in and de-escalate the situation, the man ripped the lid from his cup and splashed you with the burning liquid. You held back any sounds of pain even as your skin stung like hell when you offered to remake his drink.

One of your managers luckily allowed you to go home early. Thank god.

By the end of your shitty week, you fell into your apartment and just cried. White sweater stained and day feeling fairly ruined, you let yourself have a good, solid sobbing session to just release how terrible things had been. 

It would pass, you knew. But it sucked at the moment.

It also didn’t help that Hawks had been particularly absent after running out the last time he came around. He’d still managed to shoot you a funny text or two, but mostly, it was silence from him. You rationalized it by reminding yourself of how quickly he flew off at the end of his last visit, hero business forever more pertinent than you and the shop.

You reminded yourself to keep yourself grounded in Hawks obvious impermanence, even if you were starting to get used to (and really like) having the hero around. 

You decided that your Friday evening would be good. You treated yourself to a hot shower, noting with a hiss the pink scalded skin that covered your chest from your collar bones to just below your breasts. You threw on a facemask and uncorked a bottle of wine you had been saving for a rainy day. 

You clicked on one of your favorite shows, an older cartoon that brought you consistent comfort in times like those. Curled up with a knit throw blanket and your healthy cats, it did help soothe the burns, mental and physical.

That is until you got a bit too drunk on red wine and it turned into sad drunk.  

So, you made your way to the roof.

You weren’t fucked up beyond belief, despite the fact that you were towing an open bottle of red in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the left. The cold would sober you up, along with the nicotine. You hoped it would force you out of your head. 

Upon throwing open the door to your apartment complex’s rooftop, you were made very aware of its wintertime disuse. The gardens that grew during the summer were snowcovered. The chairs and tables for lounging were in a similar state. You didn’t mind. 

The view was still nice. 

You set down your bottle and zipped up your coat. Quickly, you brushed off the flurries from a rickety lawn chair and plopped yourself down. You threw on some music from your phone, playing some sweet, old songs that made your chest ache when you needed it to.

The city stretched in front of you, beyond the rooftop. You didn’t live in a particularly wealthy district, but there was no shortage of dazzling neon and bright street lights dotting the ground below. You watched how the rest of the city stretched far beyond your little pocket, still gleaming with multi-hued lighting and dazzling in the wash of the crescent moon.

You took a swig, fishing for your self-dubbed ‘sad cigarettes’ and lit up. With your exhale, you watched as smoke lazily swirled away, carried by the soft winter wind. If you were any less drunk, you’d be freezing.

A shadow, winged, fell across the snow. 

“You know, I get nervous when I see pretty girls on rooftops with bottles in their hands,” You jumped at the voice, whipping your head to the source.

Hawks stood, scarlet wings fanned outwards, on the lip of the rooftop. 

Your eyes widened.

You took another sip.

He gave an affectionate laugh, jumping down into the area where you were seated.

 Keigo had just been out on his normal, nightly patrol. The leak had been correct and he’d been stealthily tracking the villains while completing the rest of his hero duties. He was able to laugh off his exhaustion, but it was starting to eat him. Several cans of coffee a day was hardly doing it for him. He hid his sleepiness and aches well, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult. All the same, his typical roles had to be fulfilled. 

He was surprised to see you, all alone on a rooftop with a lit cigarette between your fingers. Keigo let himself be surprised before noting that ‘ yes, you definitely probably live in this apartment building and you’re just outside to smoke’, but the sudden jolt of panic he felt was crushingly unbearable. 

Mostly because it was personally protective and not heroically instinctual and he couldn’t start acknowledging that aspect of his feelings for you. Not yet. 

Keigo walked towards you, asking, watching you blink blearily at him “You doing alright?” 

Eyes downcast, you shrugged, “We all feel shitty sometimes. Just depends on how you cope, ‘ya know?”

“And how do you cope, (Y/N)?” Keigo asked, pausing before brushing off a chair. “Mind if I join you for a bit? I could use a second to rest my wings.”

You nodded, almost offering him the bottle, but quickly pulling it back to your chest before taking another inhale. Offering a pro hero alcohol while he was pretty obviously working seemed like a bad move, even in your tipsy state. 

“Most of the time, I watch nice stuff and distract myself, like most people, ya’ know?” You exhaled as you smoked, relishing the nicotine buzz. “Sometimes, though, I just feel extra shitty and need to extra cope.”

Hawks hummed in agreement, sitting back in the chair. His wings were folded up and over its back, the longest feathers trailing in the small snowdrift behind him.

“Do you get cold, being in the sky all the time?” You asked, eyes going cloudy as you stared up at the lights of the city and higher into the sky. 

“Most of the time,” Hawks chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head, “I’ve told you this, angel. It was one of our first conversations.”

Your eyes widened at the realization, mouth open with a hearty laugh.

 It made Keigo’s eyes water a little. He blamed it on the wind. 

 “I’m silly, I can’t believe I forgot,” You nestled back into your chair, tracing the lines between constellations. “It’s the whole reason you came to the teashop in the first place.” 

Your voice resonated, focus foggy. Somewhere else, old memories played in your mind, recounting your first few meetings with Hawks.

A warm, small smile stretched across your face as you traced the stars. 

 Keigo watched, enraptured. You were cute, especially like this. All bundled up in your winter coat, half-zipped. There was a lot less stress in your shoulders than he normally saw at the shop, especially as your thoughts were so far away.

He wanted nothing more than to commit the contours and shadows of your face in the white moonlight to memory, never forgotten in the blissful cold. 

 You interrupted his thoughts so beautifully.

 “Thanks for talking to me.” You took a sip from your bottle just after speaking, half-drowning your words, but Keigo caught each one. “I appreciate you.” 

“P-pardon?” Keigo couldn’t tell if you caught his stutter, but even if you did, you didn’t show it. The comment felt like a jab to his jaw, half-knocking the wind of him and turning him into a filthy masochist. He’d take any whiplash if it meant you saying such kindnesses to him. 

How could you just say shit like that?

What exactly did you mean by that?

Why did your attention make his legs tremble?

You turned your attention from the night sky to Hawks, something like uncertainty bubbling in your chest, “I appreciate you, ya’ know? Coming by the tea shop still, teasing each other and shit, you humoring me—”

Hawks interrupted you, feathers tensing at his back.

“I’m not humoring you.” Hawks deadpanned, staring at you oddly seriously. The yolks of his eyes seemed even more intense in the neon and night light. 

“You’re... not?” 

There was utter disbelief in your voice, accented by the way your jaw was half-opened.

Hawks shook his head, standing in emphasis, feathers fluttering as he did, “ No, angel. Not at all. I visit because...”

I like you.

“Because I like your drinks.”

  Because you make me feel good in a way I’ve never felt.

“You’re fun to talk to, too. Added perk.”

  Because I want to hear your voice when I breathe and when I die. 

“I enjoy it, you know? You're fun.”

 Some feeling in your chest, something full of hope, crushed itself and compacted to the point of pain. You sniffled at his admission, blaming it on the cold. In a fucked up, sad way, part of you was so relieved. 

He likes the shop. He likes your drinks. 

He’s around because he wants to be. 

But not because you’re special to him. 

 His words reminded you of your insignificance in Hawks’s life. No matter how much you craved his attention and words, and more recently found yourself staring at the plumpness of his lips and the curve of his cupids bow and daydreaming about how much you wanted to lean over the tea shop's counter and kiss the constant, teasing smile off his face—

But.

You don’t matter that much to him.

Sure, he likes you, but he’ll never feel the same way about you. 

 You made the decision then to make the most out of Hawk’s affections and sweet words. You’d take what you could get, even if it was fleeting and probably  eventually heartbreaking. It seemed smart, to refuse to get your hopes up for someone so unattainable.

 You let out a shaking sigh, “Thank you, Hawks. I appreciate you coming around. You really light up my day.”

 Keigo saw the fall of your face and bottled himself up. Shoved down everything. Fuck his feeling, fuck how he felt about you, this was all fucking terrifying. It was getting to be too much and he had to try and control himself.

Just like he’d been taught so well.

He was just so happy to be around you. He could squash his feelings, even if they were fairly obviously somewhat mutual. God knows that he didn’t know how to handle anything like that.

On the gods, his pager beeped.

 “Duty calls?” You said, standing up yourself and brushing off the stray snowflakes. 

“Seems so.” Hawks sighed, nodding, “Thanks for letting me rest here. It was good to see you, (Y/N). I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You waved goodbye as Hawks disappeared as quickly as he came, launching himself from the roof with the heavy sound of wing beats. 

Soaring away, Keigo risked a final look at you. He swore he saw tears in your eyes.

He forcibly repressed his feelings, reminding himself that your company, words, and quirk-made beverages were more than enough. The flutter in his chest when he thought of you wouldn’t rest, but he could learn to ignore it. 

 On the roof of your apartment, you felt fatigue in your bones and wetness on your cheeks. You ignored both in favor of smoking another cigarette, soft, melancholy music being your only constant, reliable companion. 

You reminded yourself that he, Hawks, was a temporary fixture, more flighty than most and liked you just enough and for surface-level reasons. You could take that. You’d do anything to be around him more, even if it never amounted to anything. 

You, just as Keigo did, pressed down any larger feelings.

 (The thing about feelings, though, that neither of you was very good at remembering, was that they don’t go away. Sure, you can let them go, but that takes time or a practiced mind!)

(When you take feelings, big, aching, soaking feelings and shove them down into the deepest parts of you, they just tend to make you bleed. The ‘hidden’ feelings color your blood as it spills, even if you don’t notice when it falls and its change in hue.)

(One can only hope that both Keigo and you listened instead of lied.)

 Both of your hearts ached, and neither of you fully understood why.

#salem writes #hawks x reader #mha hawks #bnha hawks #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #reader insert #mha x reader #keigo x reader #hawks x y/n #takami keigo x y/n #lavender latte #bnha x reader

[mehreya]

regret

↬ wc: 3.9k

↬ pairing: bokuto kotarou x fem!reader

↬ genre: angst, fluff, soulmate au 

↬ summary: you’ve always viewed the concept of soulmates negatively, or even indifferently, but bokuto kotarou quickly changes your mind.

-- send an ask to @/seraee to be on my gen taglist or fill out my form in navi!!

As life progresses, regret, you learn, is the absolute bane of your existence.

You are born in 20th century Japan, near the end of the Shōwa period, and you grow up during the Heisei period. The soulmate legend has become increasingly well-known by then; but you are raised in such times where people, although they know of the soulmate legend, refuse to believe it, or to accept it.

Your grandmother is the one to recount the soulmate tale to you, not your mother. Your mother, a few years after she’s had you, leaves you in the hands of your grandmother, too scared to be trapped in motherhood, too scared to end up like her own mother; trapped in a loveless marriage, forced to be a mother at the age of 20. Your father stays with you and your grandmother, but when you turn eight, he passes away; taken away by weary thoughts and the liquor he so loves.

You are thus left alone with your grandmother, who, though she does her best to support you, is not enough. You have to take on three other jobs at the age of fifteen just to make sure you can pay for your high school education. The idea of taking on even more jobs just to be able to afford university tires you immensely, and you decide you cannot go to university. You just can’t.

Why do you have to work so hard to go to university anyway, when you can just pick up a few years later, when you have enough money? At that point, you are convinced that because of your bad luck, you won’t be meeting your soulmate anytime soon. You’re not even sure if you want to meet him; all your friends are planning to leave to Tokyo to engage in wild partying and one night stands; none of them want to be tied down by something as fickle as love. No one wants to be like their Shōwa mothers.

You decide you do not want to be like your mother; someone who abandoned you. But you don’t want to end up like your grandmother either. Caught between a rock and a hard place, you ultimately decide if you meet your soulmate, you will try, but until then, you want to live your life the way you want to. You want to go with your friends to Tokyo and party and be free, and just not worry about financial, emotional or other materialistic problems.

So with a kiss to your grandmother’s cheek and a last look at the house you grew up in but never loved, you leave for Tokyo the minute you turn eighteen.

Tokyo is bright lights and loud noises; a rush of color and sound and everything in between. Your friends seem to enjoy it; glad they are free from the restrictions of the old village you lived in. You try to enjoy it as well, and for the first few weeks, you really do. You relish in the feeling of letting loose in clubs, dancing to your heart’s content, throwing back shots, meeting new people. It is a rush of excitement and exhilaration, and you are completely drunk on the feeling.

Three years pass just like this, full of wild nights and random strangers and drunk parties. And then one day, a realization hits you. You wake up like normal, in some unfamiliar person’s bed, your garments thrown to the side haphazardly. Feeling the urge to vomit, you slide out of bed carefully, but one look back at the man, and you know he’s out cold. You hurry to the bathroom and vomit out last night’s contents, sighing as you wash your face with cool water after you’re done.

Slipping out of the bathroom quietly, you take in your surroundings and realize you are in a penthouse. You get dressed as quickly and quietly as you can and swipe as much cash as you can carry from the rich man’s wallet, which lay near your clothes. You’re just about to head out when light peeking in from behind curtains covering the floor-length window catches your eye.

Padding over to the window, wanting to see what the view is like from the highest floor of a building, you pull open the curtains and quickly step in front of the window, closing the curtains behind you. A soft gasp leaves your mouth as you take in the sight in front of you.

The sky is a beautiful pale blue covered by white wisps of clouds, intertwining around emerging rays of sunlight peeking through. It looks so beautiful; just like the sunrises your grandma used to show you. She used to bring you up to the hilltop and used to braid your hair at the top and sing you a lullaby as you watched the sunrise with her.

This is the first time you’ve thought about your grandma in years, and tears gather at the corner of your eyes at your thoughtlessness. Is your grandma doing well? Is she taking care of herself? Is she even alive?

You twist out from behind the curtains hurriedly, gathering your belongings and practically running to the elevator, barely holding in sobs as you do so. You must have looked very strange to the people in the elevator with you, but you cannot bring yourself to care.

The second you hear the ding that signals the elevator doors are opening, you rush out, scurrying to the nearest sheltered curb you can find. And you sit down, bury your head in your hands, and you sob.

A few weeks later finds you on the train back to your home town. You’re nervous; it’s been a long time since you’ve seen your grandmother. The remorse and the regret had piled up for years, and you’d just pushed them away, but now; now, you decide it’s been too long. Too long since you visited the woman who practically raised you, too long since you talked to the one who’d loved you and cared for you when your own parents hadn’t.

And thus, you’re resolute in your decision, even though every cell in your body is screaming at you to run away. The slowing down of the train, and the hoot of the train horn alerts you to the fact that you’ve arrived at your destination. Somewhat hesitantly, you step off the train and breathe in the familiar air. Though it didn’t truly feel like home, it felt good to be back.

You grab a cab, anticipation thrumming through your veins. Reaching home, you swing open the rusty white screen door and step inside gently.

“Obaa-san?”  You call out softly, taking off your shoes and putting them beside the door. She calls out your name, surprised. Her voice is a feeble croak, and sounds incredibly weary, as if she might collapse any minute. Heart clenching in worry and fear, you follow the direction of her voice to her bedroom door.

Swinging it open gently, you freeze as you see the weakened figure of your ailing grandmother. Her skin is incredibly pale, and she is barely breathing, so faintly you didn’t even realize she was until you looked closely. She beckons you closer, and you step forward weakly, tears blurring the edges of your vision. “Obaa-san.” You breathe out softly, regret clogging up your throat.

“Child,” she takes a shuddering, wheezing breath, and then closes her eyes completely, too weakened to even attempt anything other than talking.

“I’m glad you’re home.” You’re crying now, but she can barely move her arms to comfort you, and that makes you cry harder.

“There, there. My time has come, (Name). My last and only wish for you,” she wheezes, and the lines on her face slowly go slack. “Is I wish you would go to college, and end up being someone successful. I hope for you to live a happy, successful life.” Her voice fades in the end, and she goes completely still. You cry out for her, but she doesn’t respond, and you spend the rest of the day mourning by her side, lamenting the fact that you were too late.

To honour your grandmother’s last wish, you enrol in Tokyo University as soon as you can. The first two years of college pass by surprisingly easy, the cash you’d accumulated from your nights out, along with the money your grandma had left you, pays well for your tuition. You still haven’t aged a bit; no grey hairs visible. That changes in your third year of college though; in the first semester of your third year of college, you meet your supposed other half.

“(Name), you are to be partnered with Bokuto Koutarou for this assignment.” Your English professor intones monotonously, before clearing his throat and reading out the next pair, leaving no room for further instructions or debate.

Having never heard that name before, you glance around the lecture hall curiously, hoping your partner will come to you instead of you having to go to him. A flash of black and white catches your eye, and you see a black-and-white haired boy walking toward you, a cheerful smile on his face. His eyes are rather unique, you note, brilliant gold with a black slit for the pupil. He kind of reminds you of an owl, at first glance, and the cautious walls you always have up are lowered slightly.

“Hey, hey, hey!” He greets cheerfully, one hand reaching out for yours in a high five, to which you comply, slightly unnerved when he slaps your palm and then pumps it up and down excitedly. “I’m Bokuto Koutarou, but you can call me Bo!” He grins cheerfully, and since you usually tend to keep to yourself, the excited greeting from someone you don’t even know makes your heart warm a little.

You greet him back quietly, smiling a little as you tell him your name. He grabs a nearby chair and sits down next to you, practically bouncing in his seat. “SO,” he begins loudly, and you lean away a little, not wanting your eardrums to be blown out. “What theme are ya thinking about?” He asks, leaning toward you a little.

“I was thinking…since it’s Romeo and Juliet, we could do the easiest and most central theme, love?” You say a little uncertainly. Though you have little to no experience on the subject, aside from your grandmother, it is one of the most obvious themes of the play, and you’re sure you can make something up. The assignment basically entails analysing a theme and relating to it, then displaying it to the audience; nowhere does it say it has to be truthful.

“Sure!” He agrees cheerfully, head bobbing up and down eagerly. “Great.” you smile back. The bell is going to go in a few minutes, and you realize you still haven’t packed up your things. “Do you mind going and signing us up?”

“I gotcha!” He stands up abruptly, almost knocking into someone behind him, who just stares at him a little disgruntled, and walks away.

Before he can start walking off though, you need to set a time and place for your meeting to discuss more on the assignment. “Um, Bo-san?”

He turns around, eyes sparkling, “Just Bo is fine!” He says with a thumbs up.

“Right…Bo-kun?” you say slowly. “Man, you’re just like Akaashi!” He pouts a little. You perk up, Akaashi and you are somewhat good acquaintances; did he by any chance, know Bokuto too?

“You know Akaashi-kun?” You ask curiously. “Yeah!” He says, pointing to himself proudly, “Me and Akaashi are roommates!”

“Ah…Then, to discuss the project, we could meet up at your place?” You trust Akaashi to an extent and Bokuto seems nice enough, so you figure there’s no harm. Besides, it’s much better than your cramped little apartment. Bokuto agrees, as you expected, and then the bell rings, and you say your goodbyes.

You stare at the door in front of you, re-checking the number plate and the address Bokuto had scribbled down and shoved into your hand hastily, when you’d reminded him that you didn’t know where you lived.

You knock twice, and the door swings open to reveal an excited Bokuto. “Hey, hey! So, how long do you think this will take? Do you think it’s gonna take long? Please tell me it doesn’t take long!” You’re bombarded with questions as Bokuto hovers in front of you. Someone nudges him out of the way, and then you are met with Akaashi’s face, “Bokuto-san, please give our guest some space.” He says with a sigh.

“Oh!” Bokuto makes a face in understanding, “You’re right, Akaashi!” Akaashi shakes his head, and then looks toward you, bowing his head a little in greeting. You greet him back before stepping into their apartment, arranging your shoes by the door neatly. Akaashi murmurs something to Bokuto quietly, and you look away respectfully. You only look back when there’s a shuffling sound to see Akaashi leaving.

He notices you looking, and says politely, “Well, I’ll be off then.” There must have been a confused expression on your face, because he shifts a little uncomfortably before explaining he’s off to see his girlfriend. Oh. You didn’t even know he had a girlfriend. He nods to you one last time, and then leaves after directing a stern look toward Bokuto.

“C’mon then! Let’s do this quickly!” Bokuto pumps his fist in the air excitedly. “May I ask why you’re in such a hurry, Bo-kun?”

“Ah, I wanna go play volleyball! Volleyballll!” He exclaims as he bounces down onto the sofa. “Oh, you enjoy volleyball?” You follow him, taking out your binder and notes from your bag. “Yeah!” He leans toward you eagerly, so close you can smell the peppermint on his breath. You shift away subtly, but you don’t think he would have noticed either way.

Bokuto bounces on the sofa impatiently as you begin the discussion. “Um, so… love…where do you think it can be observed in the play, and what form does it come in?” Bokuto stares at you blankly as he pauses, “Huh?” Facepalming, you sigh. It’s going to be a long afternoon.

Your meetings with Bokuto don’t go too bad surprisingly; once you bait him with the promise of playing volleyball with him (a trick you learned from Akaashi), he pays a little more attention, and takes down notes dutifully as you discuss (although analysing his writing is a task in and of itself, you’re glad he’s being productive). Hesitant acquaintanceship slowly leads to friendship as the months progress.

Akaashi can only watch silently as he sees you open yourself up a little and as he watched Bokuto wait in anticipation for your visit each day. He thinks the both of you are a little too oblivious; but then again, he doesn’t know you too well. Being kindred souls, both you and Akaashi liked to sit quietly in each other’s presence, but with Bokuto’s loud and excitable nature, he sees you open up a little. Akaashi can only hope that whatever is forming between you and Bokuto leads to something good.

You’re standing in front of your mirror one day, combing through your hair when a strand comes away in your hands. You’re about to throw it away mindlessly when you notice it’s not (h/c); no, it’s grey.The tell-tale sign one has met their soulmate is when they start aging, and that’s signified when their hair turns grey.

You sink down onto your bed slowly, processing the fact that one of the people you met this past few months was your soulmate. Well, you’ve only really interacted with two people, Kasamatsu…no, you’re sure it’s not him; you’re sure you would have felt something. Then…it’s probably Bokuto, you realize.

You’d decided you would try for your soulmate; try for love when you met him. But now that you know it’s Bokuto...you can’t do that to him. You can’t do that to Bokuto, who’s always so excited about everything; who’s always ready to help you; who always makes you feel like you’re better than who you really are. Bokuto deserves better. Better than you, who’s been with so many other while he’s been faithfully waiting. He deserves so much better, you think.

You have never regretted your life decisions more than you did at that moment. Regrets, you realize, are the absolute bane of your existence.

The same day, you have a meeting with Bokuto to wrap up some final ends of your project. The door to their apartment is open, and you let yourself in, the weight of your realization a few moments prior is heavy as you greet Akaashi.

He smiles at you softly in greeting; you and Akaashi had gotten closer as a result of Bokuto’s extrovertedness.

Bokuto bounds toward you excitedly, pointing toward his hair, which, now that you notice, looks more cleanly done than it was before, “(NAME), HEY, HEY, HEY!” He greets you as you laugh, “Hi Bo, what’s up?”

“Akaashi redyed my hair today, and guess what!”

“What?” you humour him, humming as you go through the motion of taking off your cardigan. “There was a grey hair in between my black ones!”

You freeze, unable to respond. How coincidental that on the same day you discover Bokuto is your soulmate; he finds out he has one too. You don’t notice Akaashi watching you observantly from his post right before the hallway you and Bokuto are in.

You’ve never been great at lying; you know this. You also know that if you run like you so want to, you will give yourself away. So you decide to try to keep a straight face, now painfully aware of Akaashi’s gaze boring a hole into the side of your head.

Bokuto is grinning proudly, both hands on his hips, eyebrows cocked, golden eyes sparkling. “Akaashi and I were making a list,” he chatters, not noticing as your straight face falls. “And (Name),” he turns a bit bashful now, pink visible on his cheeks as his eyes find yours, “We think you’re my soulmate!!” He’s grinning widely at you, albeit a bit more reserved than usual.

He’s clearly nervous. You play with your sleeves anxiously, deciding to let him down gently. You want Bokuto to lead a better life, and you’re sure he can find it with someone, anyone that isn’t you. You open your mouth to tell him no, but something won’t let you. Maybe it’s the way Akaashi’s eyes are drilling into yours from behind Bokuto, telling you not to do what he thinks you’re going to do; telling you not to let him go. Maybe it’s the way Bokuto’s face falls as you keep silent; the way his whole body seems to droop, the way the light that had been shimmering in his eyes dims.

And maybe it’s the crestfallen expression on his face; that’s how you know you can’t do this to Bokuto. You could never break his heart like that. You just hope that when he knows of your past; you just hope he won’t be hurt. You’ve lived with the weight of your life decisions for a while now; he is yet to find out. You regret not being there for your grandma; but you want to be there for him if he’ll let you.

“(Name)?” Bokuto’s quieter than usual voice snaps you out of your anxiety-ridden thoughts. “I-” You hesitate, but one look at his eyes, and you know you have to tell him, “I am your soulmate, Bokuto.”

He perks up almost immediately, throwing his fisted hands into the air triumphantly, “I knew it!”

“I-” You shuffle around anxiously, “But I need to, um, tell you something.”

Bokuto falters as he takes you in, finally realizing you have something important to say. “Sure.” he nods, glancing toward Akaashi, who slips into his bedroom, shutting the door quietly, but not before one warning look back at you. You and Akaashi are friends; but you know Bokuto will always come before you.

You turn your attention back to Bokuto, who’s looking at you confusedly. “So what’d ya want to tell me?” He asks, golden eyes softening as he looks at you, sleek silver eyebrows knitting together uncharacteristically gently.

Your heart feels like it’s in your throat, but you swallow it down, remembering the way Bokuto had looked a few minutes ago. He needs to know, and then he can decide whether or not he wants you.

You proceed to tell him the whole story, and his reactions are displayed on his face, clear for all to see. When you get to the part about your life in Tokyo, his lips quirk downward a little, and you wince.

“Bo, you – you deserve so much better.” You finish softly, eyes looking down. It’s quiet for a little while, Bokuto’s silence is unnerving and you wish the earth could swallow you.

“I don’t think so.” Bokuto’s voice makes you look up slowly, (e/c) pools hesitantly meeting his own golden ones, which are burning fiercely as they look at you. His arms are crossed and his face is pulled into an intense thinking expression.

When he notices you look up, he leans toward you with resolve. “You may have done all that, but that was before we met, before I was even born. What matters is that you picked yourself up, and you worked hard to come here and stay here.” You nod hesitantly, a little surprised; Bokuto’s acting very maturely, but then again, you suppose he always has been, a little bit. He just never showed it much.

“Besides,” Bokuto continues, a smile settling on his features, “You had that one moment, right? The moment where people realize they love someone. I had it.” He says unabashedly, “That’s how I know I don’t care about your past.” He says proudly, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“So you don’t mind that I-”

“A little.” He admits, but he flashes a determined smile at you as he says his next words, “But if you’ve felt that moment, then I know you’re not going anywhere.” He says, and you search his golden orbs for any signs that he’s lying; but there’s none.

He loves you, you realize. He doesn’t care. The moment he’s talking about; you’ve felt it. You feel it every time you’re with him. You love him. The last realization has you throwing yourself across the sofa and into his arms. Bokuto catches you easily, strong arms winding around your frame as he laughs. You can feel his laughter as the rumbles in his chest, and you are hit with an overwhelming wave of affection.

“I’ve felt that moment too.” You mumble into his chest. He laughs again, and you imagine those golden eyes crinkling at the corners, and the whites of his teeth showing beneath a wide smile. “I love you.” You say quietly, but he hears, and his arms tighten around you.

Regret, you think, is the bane of your existence, but it’s also what pushed you to tell Bokuto the truth, so maybe it’s a little helpful after all.

(You and Bokuto get an 89 on your Romeo and Juliet project. The final version turned out much better than what you’d had before – Bokuto had a lot to do with that. When you find out your grade, he peppers your face with small, happy kisses, his hair tickling you as you chuckle gently, and weave your hands into his hair, smiling at him.)

#bokuto kotarou x reader #bokuto x reader #mknet #haikyuucreations #haikyuu x reader #fukurodani #bokuto fluff #soulmate au #haikyuu soulmate au #bokuto x you #bokuto koutarou #bokuto kotarou #raeyn writes #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #hq x you #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu writings #bokuto #angst

[softguks]

request!! jungkook had a bad day and you comfort him and it’s all fluffy? 💜

SOFT NIGHTS | JJK DRABBLE

+ jeon jungkook / reader

+ everyone has bad days. days where you want nothing more than to curl up in the comforts of your bed and cry, days where you feel like the world is turned against you, and days where everything is too much to handle. but for jungkook, there’s nothing better than coming home to you because you make bad days better.

+ 1.3k words

+ fluff and some comedy/crack, angst if you squint, boyfriend au, established relationship au, idol au | no warnings !

Jungkook has had a long day.

It’s evident in the way his shoulders slump, both out of relief and exhaustion as soon as he enters the house, shutting the door with a gentle swing and kicking his sneakers off. His head hangs low, tucked into his chest as he plops his keys into the little bowl at the front. A heavy sigh falls from his pursed lips, a sound so shaky and fragile, as if it could shatter like glass. Tousled wavy, brown locks fall in front of half-lidded chocolate eyes that are blank with tiredness and slightly glossy with frustrated and unshed tears. Long lashes flutter against rosy cheeks that are flushed under your scrutiny as you watch from your position on the couch with a frown. You close your laptop, placing it on the table as you motion for him to come over, a sympathetic smile on your face. Tossing his bag onto the table, he shuffles over, sock-clad feet swishing against wooden floors with his pretty lips pushed up in a pout as he approaches you.

“Long day, love?”

“Mm yeah.” his voice is lightly raspy and soft, something angelic and delicate you’ve always loved about him. His long arms reach out for your embrace, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck as his arms wrap around you. His nose slots perfectly against the dip in your skin, pressing a featherlight kiss against the curve of your shoulder as he closes his eyes. Your fingers run through his messy locks of wavy brown hair, massaging his scalp and gently carding your nails along the soft locks. His hair smells suspiciously like your shampoo, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you chuckle.

“You wanna talk about it? Want me to order some food? Run you a bath?”

The slight shake of his head and the bounce of his curls is incredibly endearing, causing the butterflies in your tummy to stir as you smile down lovingly at the boy who has completely, wholly, and entirely captured your heart.

“Just wanna cuddle.”

The hushed mumbles tumbling from his rosy lips tug at your heartstrings, igniting something warm and gentle that tingles in your veins. It’s a beautiful feeling, like flowers blooming across your chest and hazy sunlight pouring in through glass windows. It’s a feeling that you’ve never experienced and even though it scares you, it also thrills you. It’s an addictive feeling that thrums in your bloodstream and flutters in your heart. It feels natural and right, like it was meant to be.

The tears that have long been situated in the corners of his eyes slip down his cheeks, body trembling as he tries to hold in his cries. Your heart breaks to see him like this, so vulnerable and fragile as he hides away from himself and his emotions.

“What’s wrong? Do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head, closing his eyes and taking a deep, shaky breath that fills his lungs with cold air. The pads of your fingers brush against the skin under his eyes that are stamped with purple moons, another reminder of his sleepless nights and constant pressure.

Sinking further into the plush cushions of the couch, you pull him closer, peppering kisses along his cheeks, up towards his forehead, and finally against pecking his mouth a few times. He looks so pretty like this, with his lips tinted red from your kisses, cheeks darkened in color —he swears that it’s the heat of the living room even though you know different— and the corners of his mouth turned up in a shy smile. The action of affection has him giggling, eyes bright with stars; little pinpricks of light that sparkle in the wide expanse of black and glow against the blankets of space. His smile is blinding, eyes scrunching up to form crescent moons as the corners of his eyes crinkle. Your fingers reach up to poke his dimples, only adding to his embarrassment and shyness (he will never admit how much he loves this) His cheeks color the shade of cherry blossom pink, the kind that dangle precariously from thick, woven branches on a cool spring day.

“I love you so much and I’m so proud of you. Don’t stress too much over it. You’re working hard and doing your best and that’s all that matters.”

“I know. I’m very lovable indeed. They don’t call me Mr. International Playboy for nothing y’know.” He grins cheekily, the curve of his lips elongated by the smile that graces his features.

“I’m trying to love on you but you’re making this so hard.”

Immediately, something mischievous twinkles in his eyes, flickering like a sudden beam of light in the warm brown depths of his eyes as a coy smirk stretches across his lips. He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, a shit-eating grin snaking across his rosy lips. “You know what else is hard? That you could take care of?”

Your expression immediately turns sour, causing a loud laugh to rumble from his chest, a sound so happy and him that you cannot hold back the smile that threatens to show. He is so Jungkook and you love that about him. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking disgusting and cheesy.”

“Only for you, baby.” His wink is so awfully adorable that it makes you want to kiss him a hundred times and puke at the same time.

“Are you tired?”

“Just a little. Can you keep playing with my hair?” Jungkook look adorable with his wide doe eyes staring up at you with so much tenderness in them that you cannot deny him of anything. He is so effortlessly gorgeous and you are so whipped for him —not that anyone could blame you, that you would give him the world if you could.

Love is a strange and finicky concept. It’s always sounded too perfect and cliche to be real. You’ve never been so in love with someone and it’s scary. The idea of loving someone so much that they become a part of you and a piece of you is terrifying. They become something you can’t bear to lose and a weakness. But with Jungkook, it’s different. He completes you. He brings out the best in you after seeing the worst parts of you. He wants all of it, the good parts, the bad parts, the scary parts, everything. His bright bunny smile showing off his pearly whites is enough to brighten your entire day, his laugh is enough to make your heart skip a beat, and his personality is something so bright and contagious that you cannot help but fall in love with him.

The gentle thrumming of the dryer and the low bubbling of the pot on the stove is enough to make him drowsy. After a long and tiring day of practice, his muscles are sore and ache with tiredness, exhaustion hanging off of his body. His movements are sluggish and slow, eyes drooping as deep slumber threatens to overtake him. He feels warm, safe, and loved, and there’s nothing more he could ask for at this moment.

Staring down at you through groggy eyes and slightly blurry vision, he admires the baby hairs that fall in front of your eyes, the little freckles and marks that decorate the wide expanse your skin like stars in the sky, the dusty pink flush that colors your cheeks, the small and tender smile pulling the corners of your lips upward, and the warmth that radiates from your body.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, you dork.”

You swear you feel him smile against your neck.

“Babe, this is important, get up.”

“What? Jungkook, go to sleep.”

“Why are pizzas boxes square, pizzas in the shape of circles, and pizza slices triangular?”

“Oh my god, Jungkook, please shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”

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