Tumgik
#i have no idea what light academia even is
saturnsorbits · 10 months
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Wingman
Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Kaminari is an insecure idiot, Breeding, Oral(ish), Light Choking, V. v. v Slight FemDom, Saturnari Coded. Word Count: 7.5k.
Summary: Kaminari has always been the wingman, but with you, he wants to be anything but...
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Coming out tonight was a bad idea.
Through some miracle, the whole gang has managed to swing the same night off, a rarity that Kaminari should be enjoying, but even as he watches all his friends cut loose, he can't say he shares in their excitement.
Slouched in the back of a booth, he nurses his fourth drink. It had taken almost twenty minutes to convince everyone to go have fun without him. He'd fed them all the usual excuses – that he was tired, his new shoes where a touch tight, he was too busy scouting for girls and didn't want them hanging around to ruin his vibe. It had been the last one that had sold it, which was ironic. Kaminari shifts to itch the back of his calf with the point of a shoe. He'd be okay here, camped out in the corner with nothing, but a drink and a sinking sense of disappointment.
In the middle of the club, Kirishima has his arms wrapped around Bakugo's neck. His nose is pressed to his cheek, lips barely a millimetre from pale skin as to better whisper low to him. Around them, a steady flow of interceptors try, and fail, to slip between them.
Sero is at the bar. He leans lazily against it, an elbow dug into hardwood at an angle that just lets him hold his drink without dropping it. Already, there's a semi-circle of women around him. They touch him in the absent way one touches something they want to own. He doesn't stop their advances.
Somewhere out there is Mina, too, but she moves too quick to spot. Flitting between groups of people, she dazzles anyone who so much as glances in her direction without pausing to tarry on just one conquest.
Then... There's you.
Kaminari finds his gaze drifting, naturally, until he finds you. He's just keeping an eye on you. Or, at least that's what he's telling himself. He can see Sero looking too, and the occasional glances Bakugo spares you before he's twirled away and forced to break his line of sight. Mina, as well, he's seen it and even though Kirishima thinks he's being subtle, he's not.
He wonders which of them you want. Which you'd let take you home and touch, delicate, against your skin. You could have any of them, that much is for sure, but that doesn't stop the acidic burn that washes his throat when he thinks about his own odds. With friends like his, Kaminari has long since come to terms with always being the last choice.
'Kami!' You slip into the booth ass first and almost, almost, lose an inch of your gin. Righting the glass, you tap your shoulder playfully against his, reveling in the way the muscle of his bicep twitches with the contact.
Kaminari sighs, running a finger around the lip of his glass. At this point, he figures it'll just be less painful to beat you to the punch. 'So go on.' He fixes his smile back into place, erasing the edges of a frown and looks out at the mess of people on the dance floor. 'Who's your type?'
'Huh?'
'Which one?' He pretends to have already suffocated the wisp of hope alight in his chest and forces a chuckle up his throat. He wiggles his eyebrows at you while almost white-knuckling his drink. 'Because Sero'll take you home like yesterday, but he's got metal in his... Y'know, so if that's not your bag you might want to try one of the other two... Maybe, both?' He cocks his head, smirks without the mirth. 'Or, fuck, do you want Mina's number?' His intonation spikes towards the end, curiosity and panic bleeding into his tone.
'I don't want any of them...' You frown and shake your head, moving to lay a hand on his shoulder, but just before your fingers can play against the cuff of his t-shirt, he moves.
'C'mon. You don't have to play coy with me.' Shoulders tensing, he tries to steady the beating of his heart. The small fire in his chest is still kindling, burning hope bright and sure. Best not to let you touch him until it's extinguished then - he'd only be letting himself get the wrong idea. 'I am supposed to be the wingman and all that...'
'Kaminari.' His ignorance is endearing. There's a pinkness on his cheeks that makes you want to kiss them, but you'll have to get to the root of the reason he won't let you get close if you're looking to live out that fantasy.
Unperturbed, Kaminari continues on with each of his words stinging like small splinters wedged under his skin. It's not like he hasn't done this before, helped one of his friends hook up with the object of his desire, but you – you're different. He likes you. 'Personally, I'd say try your luck with Kirishima first if you're not up for handling a bit of a brat, Bakugo can be -.'
'Kaminari -.'
'And Mina! Well, Mina's...'
'Kaminari, I don't want any of them.'
Kaminari tenses. No. Don't do that. He doesn't want you to fan the flames, doesn't think he can take being swallowed alive by that fire tonight. The tone that lifts from his tongue is sharp, cracking like a whip between you. 'I said you don't have to do that -.'
It only makes you smile. 'Denki...' You coo. Then, when he tucks his chin to his chest, you lift it with a finger and force him to look: to see.
'Baby.'
'Huh?'
'I said.' You keep hold of his chin and make him watch your mouth as you speak, enunciating every word as clearly as you can. 'I don't want any of them...'
'Oh...' He nods despite having not digested any of your words. Until... His jaw drops, mouth rounding. 'Oh.'
The tip of his nose has pinkened, glowing soft in the dim lights of the club and his eyes are shining, golden half-moons bright as they flicker subconsciously from your eyes to your lips and then back again.
Cocking your head, you chuckle. 'You can't really expect me to buy that you don't know when you're being hit on?'
'I – Women don't usually...' He trails off as embarrassment coils low in his gut. Once upon a time, he'd fancied himself a ladies man, but by the end of high-school he'd been made aware that promiscuity was simply a dream for him. He'd been the last to lose his virginity and even then, he's pretty sure Camie fucked him out of pity. A familiar swirl of uneasiness whips around his stomach as the ever-present tendrils of insecurity wiggle and twist. 'I mean – Have you seen my friends?'
You snort, refusing to give him an inch. 'Have you seen yourself?'
You laugh and Kaminari thinks he'll never have to listen to music again. 'I don't – I'm not.'
Shaking your head, you press a finger to his lips and smirk. 'Mr. If I hear one more stupid thing fall out of your mouth I'm gonna have to kiss it.'
He chuffs before he's able to stop it, one million dull insults swelling in his chest. He never was good at saying the right thing and people have always been too keen to point it out. 'Gonna be kissing me a lot then.'
'Yeah?' A pleasant warmth spreads through your chest at the thought of stealing multiple of his kisses. It makes your shoulders tight and your stomach feel light.
Kaminari nods. 'They don't call me Dunce Face for -.'
You cut him off with a kiss. Just as you'd promised. It's a soft thing, a barely-there graze of lips, but he reels back from it almost breath-taken. Reaching up, you play with a strand of blond falling from his fringe and wait, patiently for his brain to catch up with the situation. Truth be told, you've had your eye on Kaminari for a while, but when even your blatant flirting at the last squad BBQ hadn't been enough to convince him of your interest, you'd decided to take more divisive measures.
An airy chuckle breaks Kaminari's lips. 'I might have to say stupid stuff more often, because – mmhmph.'
You kiss him again.
'I don't just get kisses when I say something stupid though, do I -.'
And again.
This time, he lets himself sink. He's still not really sure what's going on. Maybe one of the others put you up to this, to make this night one to remember – but, as your mouth migrates from his lips to the corner of his mouth, his cheek, and neck, he struggles to dwell on whatever scheme has lead to him being here. A dull pressure slips easily up his thigh, skating over the ripped denim of his jeans until he can feel your fingers curl at the join of his thigh. Spit sticks in his throat, his hands instinctively reaching out to touch, to curl around your arm and hip. 'I -.' He reels back with a heaving chest. The words tumbling from his mouth before he can catch them. 'I can't – don't – I don't want...'
You flinch back as if burnt.
The absence of your body crowding against his makes his entire chest feel cold, but he pushes on, tripping over his thoughts as he goes. 'I – fuck – Okay. So I think, I think you're... I think you're so fucking pretty, like wow, like holy shit you're – you're incredible, okay, but I don't... I can't, if you...' He looks down, then back up at where Sero is standing at the bar.
The other man looks at him, cocks an eyebrow and smirks, just enough to still seem nonchalant.
'If you're looking for a one night stand or something, then – then you're better off taking Sero home.' Squeezing an eye shut, he braces for impact – ignoring the pain that flares in his chest when he thinks of you slipping back out of the booth. He's gotten a taste now. He's not sure how he's supposed to ever forget about that.
'Kaminari, you fucking moron.' You blink and shake your head, ignoring the flittering anger that bubbles steady in your chest.
'Huh?' Cocking his head, Kaminari is almost wounded by the idea that – should he not feel as though he's just stumbled into something remarkably more serious – he'd be getting a kiss for whatever idiocy has just fallen out of his mouth.
You shove him. 'Who said I was just trying to fuck you – you -.'
'But -.'
'Do I really need to say it out loud? Do you want me to write it down? Text it to you?'
Kaminari feels something close to panic flood his veins as he watches disbelief wash clean over your features. 'I don't – When...'
'I could not have been any more obvious. I was practically falling over you at the barbecue. Kirishima's mums wouldn't stop saying how much of a cute couple we where...' Shaking your head, you widen your eyes and shout even louder over the music. '… You went along with it! I asked you to be my date to Bakugo's fucking award show last fucking week... I thought you -' A dizziness plants itself at the base of your skull. Honestly, you'd thought you'd been playing the long game. Convincing him of his worthiness, of your interest, but now... Now you're starting to think all of that energy might have gone to waste.
Kaminari blinks. 'You weren't just...' He swallows as something squirms in his stomach. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd misunderstood someone's intentions. Fuck, his and Momo's entire friendship is built off of the fact that he thought she'd been flirting with him and not just adopting him as some kind of awkward best-friend, who she could gossip with and put make-up on when she got bored. That had been one Hell of an awkward conversation. He can still remember how sweet she'd been when he'd slipped a hand onto her knee, how she'd cooed at him and apologised for giving him the wrong impression. It had been humiliating. Even if he did manage to swing a pretty amazing friend out of it.
'Just what?'
'Just being nice.'
You shake your head, still somewhat perplexed. 'No, Denki, I'm not just being nice. You ever see me pull that shit with anyone else?'
It feels as though someone has just doused gasoline onto the fire in his chest. Hope wraps itself around his lungs and squeezes until he has no other option other than to haul in a shallow breath. 'No.'
Huffing, you chew on your lip and fix him with a stare, eyebrows raising on your forehead. 'Exactly, and if I have my way, I'll be one Hell of a lot nicer.'
With his tongue stuck to the basin of his mouth, Kaminari summons the strength to mutter a soft: 'Really?' Already his body has broken out in a chill. Anticipation uses his spine as a ladder, causing the muscle of his back to tense and straighten his posture.
'Mmmhmm.' Leaning forward, you plant your elbows on the table and push your tits together. You don't miss how his Adam's apple bobs, or the way he finds himself unable to drag his eyes back up from your cleavage. 'So... You gonna let me be nicer to you, Kaminari?'
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'It's – it's a bit of a mess, I – uh...'
You barely allow Kaminari to shut the door before you have him pressed against it. Your hands reach out to cup his face, fingers touching soft as they curl around the back of his neck and thread softly into the hair at the base of his skull. 'I don't care that you haven't cleaned up, Denki.'
He chuckles, disbelief and excitement mixing together in the basin of his throat as he his hands ball to fists at his sides. Static fills his joints. There's so much energy bubbling up inside of him that he doesn't quite know what to do with it. It zips through him, paralysing and energising in equal measure as he loses himself to your touch.
'I...' Swallowing, he leans forward until his forehead touches against yours. It grounds him, combines with the dull scratching of your nails on his scalp and lets him breathe. 'I really – Fuck, I can't believe this is happening.'
You laugh, eyes fluttering shut for a second as you bask in his gaze. You're not sure if he knows he's doing it, but Kaminari looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing in the world. Large, luminescent irises highlight his adoration, spotlighting every inch of you as his eyes flicker from yours, to your lips, to the dip of your collarbones. 'Yeah...' You huff. 'Well best start believing.'
It's a messy stumble to his bedroom, a mix of uncoordinated limbs and hot, open-mouthed kisses. His hands are everywhere and greedy, grabbing at anything he can: the small of your back, your waist, your ass.
'Oh, shit...' He mumbles against your lips, already drunk and pulls back just enough to catch your eye. 'Is that...' Licking his lips he raises a hand to his own mouth and tests the stickiness there. 'Is that strawberry?'
Nodding, you subconsciously let your tongue dart out to taste. The gloss is barely tacky, almost gone from Denki's assault. Instead, you can see it on his lips – the faint shimmering of pale pink that glitters in the low light. If you kissed him again now, you're sure you'd be able to taste it too.
'It's nice.' He chuckles, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.
Humming, you wrap a palm around the back of his neck and pull him in close, feeling his breath on your cheeks. 'Yeah?' It feels juvenile, getting butterflies over the evidence of your kiss, but there's no denying the pins and needles that perforate the insides of your lungs.
'Yeah....' There's a smile tugging at his lip. The steadily darkening of his cheeks suits him, makes the cool gold in his eyes stand out, alive and clear, against the burning plain of his features. What starts out as a small fire ignited on the high of his cheek bones is soon scorched earth across much of his nose, reaching to the peak of his chin. The joy makes him look boyish. Distractingly handsome as he erupts into another foray of half-digested laughter.
Leaning in, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and taste strawberries. It mixes with something harsher, the spirit he had been so easily tipping down his throat back in the club; but underneath the tart and fruit mixture all you can taste is undeniably: him.
It's a stray trainer and the edge of Denki's oddly coloured purple mattress that is your eventual undoing. You'd been too lost in each other to notice that the slow push of small steps backwards had run it's course, leaving little room for anything other than a fall.
You go down hard.
Denki hits the mattress first, his back concave, arms stretching up to pull you close before you'd even managed to feel the bite of the connection. He reaches up, brushing his fingers across your cheeks as if to check for injuries he knows you don't have.
'Isn't this the part where you ask me if it hurt when I fell?' You have to purse your lips to stop yourself from laughing, but it doesn't work.
The noise is infectious, making him break out too. 'I don't know about you, but it fucking hurt me.'
Kissing his nose, you carefully spread your legs to bracket his hips and push up, until you can hover over him with your hands denting the mattress at either side of his head. 'Always knew you'd fall for me, eventually.'
He rolls his eyes, but blushes deeper. Cupping your chin, he rubs a thumb across your jaw. 'I never thought you'd fall too, though.'
'Less of that.' Sitting up, you playfully slap at his shoulder before letting your hands skate down the sides of his arms. When you reach his wrists, you take hold of him and list, encouraging his palms to find a place on your thighs. Shivering at his touch, you swallow a smile.
'Touch me.'
As soon as the hold on his wrists loosens, his hands start to shake. Left to his own devices he finds himself torn, eyes eating away greedily at your body as he decides just where to lay his hands first. 'Can I...' His voice shakes, nerves soaking into the back of his tongue as he hooks a finger around the top of your dress. 'Can I take this off?'
Rolling your shoulders, you nod. You can feel the flex of his stomach muscles underneath you as he curls himself into a half-crunch to reach you. His hands skate across your shoulders, fingers catching on the thin material of the straps as he gently, slowly, encourages them down your arms.
There's something caught in his throat as he watches the material slide. It slinks down your skin, stretching around the width of your shoulders before coming back together when you pinch your elbows in towards your core.
You let the material bunch around your waist, exposing your chest to the air as you perch In his lap. Already, the cold has your nipples pebbling, rising to the air as the faint buzz of arousal continues to make a mockery of your nervous system.
'Sh – Shit.' He breathes. His hands twitch into the air automatically, rising to hover over the ruched material of your dress. There's a desperation in his fingertips, a burning itch that has his ligaments twitching as he attempts to commit every inch of your body to memory.
'Hey...' Huffing air out of your nose, you press your palms to his. His fingers slot between yours easily, allowing you to squeeze tightly once before retracting your touch. Tensing your fingers, you don't have to encourage him much before he's taking a firm hold of your chest and smoothing his thumbs across the apex of your tits.
A shaky breath bullies it's way from Kaminari's mouth, the dull click of his throat audible as he swallows down the groan vibrating through his chest. 'You're... Why're you, so – so soft?..'
You chuckle, the noise bouncing your chest in his hands as he continues to slowly explore your skin. 'I moisturise.'
At that, a laugh breaks through the lull. It's full bodied and high, a giggle born from pure amusement that makes the apples of his cheeks glow. 'Yeah?'
'Yeah...' You repeat and take his hands once more, encouraging him to take a rougher grip of you. ''m soft here.' Pressing his palms up, you let your chest spill into his hands, but before he can even think about taking a hold of you, you're moving him on. '...And here.'
Next, you skate his hands down your sides making him feel the swell of your curves as your waist gives way to the shape of your hips. 'But...' Biting your lip, you hook your thumbs below his palms and lift, forcing him to venture across the bunched material of your dress until you can nestle one of his hands against your thigh and the other, square over the mound of your cunt. 'I think I'm the softest here.'
Denki moans. Even through the sheer lace of your underwear he can feel how wet you are. It warms the pad of his thumb, making his skin tingle as he presses just so against the raw bud of your clit.
You jolt, even the gentle touch of his thumb making your cunt clench with anticipation. Humming under your breath, you let go of his hand to tug at the collar of his shirt. 'Off... C'mon, it's not fair.' You're whining now, hips moving in the smallest circles you can manage against his stationary pressure.
'Hmm?' Mesmerised by your sudden neediness, he has to shake his head to bring his brain back online for long enough to process your request; but as soon as he does, he's sitting up and almost unseating you in his haste to get rid of his shirt. He yanks at the back of the material, hoisting it over his head and tossing it as far as he can manage. Curling his spine, he blinks up at you with hazy golden eyes and offers you an expectant smile. It twitches the corner of his mouth, pulling his lips into an expression that almost shows his teeth.
'That better?'
You nod and lift your hands to his shoulders. His skin, now bare, is warm under your palms. The lean muscle tangled over his bones is firm and yet, soft; moving delicately under your touch with each of his unsteady inhales. Your eyes eat at him greedily, at the surprising broadness of his shoulders, the cleft of his chest and the neat rolls of his stomach as he bends.
Shifting, he feels chews on the edge of his lip. 'W- What?'
'Nothing...' You smile, pulling your eyes back up to his. 'Just looking at you.'
'Why?'
Lifting a hand, you smooth your knuckles down his cheek. 'Because you're pretty...'
He blushes. Bright red blooms on the tips of his cheek bones and runs like a river down his face until almost his entire chest is flushed.
'… And,' you smirk. 'I think you're going to look even prettier when you're inside me.'
A strangled whimper leaves his throat. It catches behind his Adam's apple, clicking audibly in the new dull silence of the room. His hands lift, fingers digging crescents into the fat of your thighs as he tries to stop his hips from rutting up and into the softness of your cunt.
'You like the idea of that?' Using your thumb, you pull down his lip, exposing gum. 'Like the idea of being inside of me. You wanna fill me up, huh?'
He nods.
'Words.'
'Y – Yeah. Fuck, yeah... Wanna, wanna fuck you.' His grip tightens, eyes unable to be torn away from yours. Grinding down, he shifts his ass further into the mattress, trying and failing to slink away from your heat.
'Good boy.' You kiss him softly, letting him whine into your mouth, but before he can lurch forward and deepen the kiss, you're pulling back and shimmying off of his lap.
For a moment, he attempts to move with you. His head follows, lips still pursed and searching even as you almost clear his knees, but all too soon there's the obvious indents of your fingers in his chest stopping him.
Your hands fiddle with the button of his jeans, making quick work until you're able to slip your hands under the waistband. 'Lift your hips.'
He does, complying easily as you rid him of the offending material. Resting himself on his elbows, he watches as you drop the clothing off the end of the bed and lean back just enough to snake your way out of your dress. He licks his lips. Your body twists, exposing the rough curves of your hips as you shimmy to reposition yourself on the bed. The plush fat of your breast swaying, nipples flat in a way that makes him want to taste them, to feel them plump on his tongue.
Holding onto the small amount of cognition that he still possesses, he uses it to drink in the sight of you perching over his hips.
Lowering yourself onto your elbows at either side of pelvis, you feel your skin prickle under his gaze. Burning suns threaten to scorch your skin as he devours you, eyes everywhere, committing even your most unattractive details to memory. It makes you feel exposed, vulnerable and powerful, having him so captivated without even a touch. Shivering against his gaze, you dip your head and, while keeping your eyes on his, lick a long, thick stripe across the hardness straining against his boxers.
It's like he's just been shocked. Two million vaults course up through his legs with a violence that makes his eyes roll. His cock twitches, jumping against your touch even as you pull away. 'Not... Fuck, that's not fair.'
'No?' You cock your head and purse your lips, pressing the softest of kisses to his covered head.
'No: fuck.' Stretching out his shoulders, he tries to loosen the tension quickly building in his stomach. The last thing he wants is to paint the insides of his boxers and become the latest laughing stock of your friends. Clamping shut his eyes, he breathes deep, but his breathe is stolen again too soon when he feels your tongue press hard against his cock again. Reaching down, he catches hold of the front of your throat.
'That's not going to make me stop, baby.' You laugh, lowering your head again and pushing your throat against his palm. 'If anything, it's going to make me tease you more.'
The rough pads of his fingers dig in for a moment, half-crescents threatening to mark your throat as he tests his grip before releasing you. Rocking his head back onto the pillow, he feels the elastic of his boxers pull from his hips and slip until it's nestled below his balls.
As soon as it's released from its confines, Denki's cock snaps back against his stomach. It's a pretty thing. Slight in it's length, with a girth that is comfortable enough to sit perfectly in your palm and a soft rose to the skin; just looking at him makes you want to swallow him down. His head is darker, a deep red where it peaks from underneath his foreskin and weeps pearled white over his shaft where it races its way to the thick copse of dirty blonde hair that gathers around the base. Wrapping your lips around the tip, you suck ever so softly.
Denki whimpers. Reaching up, he presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to stem the onslaught of stimulus threatening to reduce him to a premature end. His breath stutters in his chest, caught somewhere underneath his diaphragm as he feels your tongue slip over his head and inch beneath the stretch of his foreskin.
Moaning, you bob slowly on his cock swallowing barely an inch before he's pushing his ass into the mattress and trying to scramble away.
'Shit. Hang on, hang on...' Hand shooting down, he grips the base of his cock with an almost bruising pressure while still wriggling backwards. 'Don't wanna... I don't -.' His breath comes out in pants, his chest caving in with each shaky inhale as he prays for his body not to betray him.
'Are you okay?' Wiping your lip, you sit up and cock your head. You're about to reach for him voice dripping with concern when he peaks open an eye to stare at you.
A dull laugh skips from his tongue when he takes in the confusion lacing your features, allowing him enough air to splutter out a broken: 'Was... Fuck, wasn't going to last.'
'I barely touched you -.'
'Guess I just find you that hot, huh?' With his pulse steadying, he chances a steady stroke of his cock gathering both pre-cum and spit in the twist of his fist. 'You, you have no idea what you do to me, do you?'
Settling back over his hips, you reach for the hand not wrapped around his cock and interlace your fingers before guiding him to your hip. It takes a simple hook of your finger before the heat of your cunt is exposed, underwear unceremoniously tugged aside to allow you to reposition Denki's hand beneath you. 'You have no idea, either.'
The first grind of your cunt across his knuckles has him sucking in breath. Each bone catches against your clit, coating him in your arousal as soft moans begin to leak from your mouth. It makes his stomach twist, his cock twitching in his hand as he feels your need grow large enough to match his own. 'I – I think I'm getting one.'
'Yeah?'
'Yeah.' He swallows. The edges of his vision swim, growing blurry as he struggles to comprehend you grinding on his hand and soaking his lap. Even with the tension still around the base of his cock, he can feel it twitch in his hand, desperate to feel the sweet recess of your cunt. 'I'm... Fuck, I'm not gonna...'
You cock your head, a smile playing at your lip as he trips over his words. 'C'mon, use your words.'
Groaning, he rocks his head back on his shoulders before fixing you with a needy gaze. He speaks quickly, with barely a breath between words as if there isn't even enough time for him to finish his sentence. 'If... Fuck, if you're serious about wanting to sit on my cock, you're going to have to do it soon because just looking at you has me nearly -.'
You cut him off with a kiss. It's immediately deep, needy in its pace and leaves both of you panting when you finally pull away. Resting your nose against his, you whisper into the slither of space between you. 'You want me to fuck you, baby?'
He nods.
'Words.'
'Fuck, yeah. Yeah. I want you – shit, want you so bad.' Twisting his palm, he uses his thumb to gently tap at the hood of your clit. With each subtle moan he earns from your chest, his taps become longer, harsher, causing you to bite your lip and grind down onto him.
Nodding, you cover his hand with yours to inch him away. A smile twitches at the corner of your mouth as he whimpers, chest hollowing at the idea of being parted from you for even a moment.
Leaning forward, you press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose before reaching between your own thighs and taking hold of his cock.
He releases himself as soon as he feels your fingers close around his shaft. His cock pulses, twitching into your hold as you give him a single cursory stroke, spreading the pre-cum leaking down over his skin from tip to root. Flicking your eyes back up to his, you feel the dull thrum of arousal beating in your cunt as you watch his lips drop open even with the little friction you've allowed him. 'Look at you... You're almost as wet as me.'
A blush blooms high on his cheeks, his eyes blowing almost black; turning his eyes into a solar eclipse. His mouth moves, but the words stick in his throat – leaving nothing but a moan able to escape as he nods in agreement.
Wiggling your hips, you shift back and line him up. You're dripping, skin shining with slick as you slowly, slowly, lower yourself down onto his cock.
Immediately, his hands clamp solid around your waist. His eyes roll back, eyelids fluttering as he huffs. You feel divine, hot and wet and squeezing him so tightly that it's hard for him to focus. The edges of his vision blur, his head swimming even though you've barely taken an inch of him. 'Shit, shit... Fuck -.'
'You feel so good.' You finish his sentence for him. His cock forces you to stretch around him, opening you up as you continue to sink down onto him. It's a mild presence, but one that manages to press up on every single nerve inside of you making you want to cry out. Your thighs shake, hands reaching forward to splay over his chest to steady yourself as you finally bottom him out. The nest of blond pubic hair at his base tickles against your clit, causing you to gasp and roll your hips, searching for more.
'I -.' Trying to pull his head from the pillow, Denki stares through the haze of his eyes. 'I'm not gonna last.' His grip tightens on your waist, a new desperation crawling into his voice as he almost whispers... 'Wanna – fuck, wanna make you feel good though.'
'Yeah?' Lifting yourself, you sink back down onto him with ease and shiver against the flare of pleasure that twists your stomach up into knots.
'Please...' Denki's throat is raw, tightening around his plea.
Desperation fills his chest as he watches the point at which you're joined. His eyes fixate on it. On where your body stretches for him, cunt open and drooling as you take him with ease; the flushed bud of your clit twitching each time you manage to impale yourself just right. 'Please...' He tries again, voice still warbling. 'Please, cum on my cock. Please – I wanna, wanna see, wanna feel – please...'
You chuckle, lifting one of your hands from his wrists to stroke your knuckles down his cheek. 'Look at you, begging so pretty...'
'Please -.'
Nodding, you straighten up and roll your shoulders back. For a moment you stay still, letting the taught pleasure simmer inside you until it settles. Your cunt has slicked his skin, making the soft rose flesh shine in the low light of his bedroom. The sight does something funny to your stomach, making it twist and bubble. Clenching your hands, you beckon him to hold you.
There's something impossibly grounding about the way you lace your fingers with his. His palms face upwards, providing a platform for you to press against and he's forced to tense his biceps as you use him as leverage to bounce. 'Oh, shit.' Pleasure flares through his body like wild-fire, making him cling to your hands and his clamp shut his eyes.
'Look at me.' Your voice is soft, although, if he were to listen close, he'd be able to hear a similar desperation to the one that infests his own. 'D-Denki, look at me.'
He obeys immediately. His gaze is hazy. His focus shattered as he looks from your eyes, to your lips, to where your cunt swallows him and back again.
'Want you to watch.' You whisper, causing his eyes to widen.
Nodding, he lifts his hips, fucking up into you just enough to have you teetering on the edge of bliss. He can feel it, how close you are. It's in the tightness, in the way your cunt squeezes him and pulses. You look like a vision, your skin flushed, with sweat beginning to dew along the line of your collarbones and your eyebrows drawn up making your features stretch with pleasure. His heart stutters in his chest, betraying the swirling emotions that threaten to make this mean a whole lot more than just sex.
''m close.' You stutter over your words, so close to your own end that you can almost taste it, but it isn't until you see the soft mouthing of Kaminari's continued begging that you finally feel yourself hit free-fall. His eyes are glued to yours, making you feel observed and worshipped all at once as the entirety of your body lights up like a sparkler.
Kaminari has seen a lot of great things in his middling twenty-seven years on this planet, but watching you come undone on top of him drops itself clear at the top. Ignoring his own nearing end, he attempts to commit every inch of you to memory as he feels you tumble over the end, once and for all.
Your orgasm hits you like a train. Your cunt pulses, thighs and stomach tensing violently as each wave of pleasure threatens to black out your vision. With each ebb, another dull thrust of Kaminari's cock brings back that same crashing pleasure. You're not sure if you cry out, not sure if you call his name – your ears are full of static, your eyes clouded as you remain air born into bliss.
'Did -.' Swallowing around the spit pooled in his mouth, Kaminari still can't pull his eyes away from you. 'Did I do good? Did I?'
Coming back to your body feels strange. There's a lightness in your bones and a burn in your muscles that screams satisfaction, but that still doesn't stop the fire churning in your stomach once your eyes clear enough to see him. He's close to tears, flushed and needy with his hips still grinding up unable to stop as your cunt continues to milk him. Biting into your lip, you reduce yourself to your elbows beside his head and press your chest to his. 'Cum for me... Want you to use me.'
There's no need to tell him twice. Electricity flashes in his eyes as he lifts himself enough to plant his feet square on the mattress and begin fucking up into you. It's desperate, the pace he sets, as is the series of moans that leak from his mouth as he loses himself to the feel of your cunt. 'Feels, fuck – fuck.'
'That's it, baby.' You coo, pressing an uncoordinated kiss just south of his mouth. Overstimulation bites at your insides making your stomach tense as his cock continues to press square over your G-spot, but there's no mistaking the hum of pleasure it continues to force through your body.
It takes barely a handful of stuttering thrusts before there's a gasping 'Where... Fuck, tell me where now Princess, or I'm gonna -.'
'Inside.' You moan, the idea alone making your mind reel. 'Please, fuck. Cum inside me, please.'
'Yeah...' He nods, huffing. 'Yeah, shit, okay.' His hands find their way down to the small of your back when he cums. His palms spread there, pressing down to ensure he's as deep as possible when he finally begins to fill you. Thick and white, he spills inside you, his cock pulsing as he quakes through the last of his orgasm.
Lifting your head, you blink at him as he slowly comes back to himself. There's a warmth floating in your stomach and a subtle ache in your muscles that you're sure will only feel better in the morning, but that matters a lot less when you lock eyes with him again.
He blinks, disbelief and joy mixing on his features as he mumbles: 'You let me cum inside you.'
'I did.'
'You -.'
'Yeah.'
'Holy shit.'
'You liked it?'
'No-one has never, no-one has...'
You hum and lean in to press only the softest of kisses to his cheek. ''m glad I did. You did so well...' Sitting up, you let your hands roam over your stomach and the fat that lives there. 'Filled me so good.'
Many things flicker through his mind then, none of them savoury. The way you're sat, straight with a subtle curve to your spine, makes your stomach stick out slightly. So much so, that if he where to squint and let his mind wander, he could almost believe that you were... Kaminari's cock twitches.
'Are you getting hard again?' You cock an eyebrow.
He swallows. 'Maybe?'
'Because of?..'
This time, he has the decency to blush, but he doesn't dare lie. He nods, biting down on his lower lip. 'I think I just discovered a new kink?'
'Hmm.' Purring, you rock your hips against him and feel his cock give another valiant twitch. 'Maybe you should breed me again, just to make sure it took, then?'
Kaminari short circuits. His eyes shimmer in the dark, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest as he tries to calm himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wonders just what the Hell he did to ever catch your eye.
'Would you like that?'
Sitting up, he wraps his arms around you before twisting and tossing you back to the mattress. He looms over you, an elbow beside your shoulder as his other hand travels down your body and graces the mound of your cunt to play with your clit. Lingering there for a moment, he slips lower and collects the spend that has leaked from you with his fingers before gently pushing it back inside you. 'Yeah...'
Curling his fingers, he makes you arc off the bed as he rubs at your G-spot. 'I'd like that a lot.'
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Denki rubs the sleep from his eyes and yawns. There's a pleasant ache in his limbs when he stretches his arms above his head, his toes pointing underneath the duvet as he rocks his head back on his pillow.
His movement jostles you, causing you to open your eyes and squint against his smile.
'You're still here.' He beams.
You respond as if it's obvious, as if there wasn't any remote possibility of you leaving in the middle of the night. 'I am.' Wriggling closer to him, you ignore the dampness still lingering between your thighs from an entire night spent together and lift your leg over his knee.
It still feels surreal as he wraps an arm around your shoulders and uses his thumb to stroke at the skin there, carving unknowable shapes into your muscle. He's longed for this, for you, for longer than he can remember and yet, if he had only seen past his own insecurity... Who knows how long he could have indulged in your body for? How long he could have made you moan and made you breakfast and seen what you looked like at seven in the morning when the sun was in your eyes?
'So, do you believe me now?' You blink at him and smile, resting your head against the turn of his collarbone.
'What?'
Running a finger down the cleft of his chest, you tap out a tune against his sternum. 'That I only want you, silly.'
There's no evidence of yesterday's former ignorance lingering on his features when he stares back at you, only the something close to happiness and the faint shimmer of mischief. 'Eh...' Taking your hand from his chest, he lifts it to his mouth and presses a series of kisses across your knuckles.
The gesture makes you giggle, but before you can lose yourself to his sweetness, he's twisting your hand and pressing your palm to his skin once more. You let him guide you, letting him encourage you down over his chest and past his stomach. You let him push onward, even when you already know exactly where he's heading.
'I think I might need more evidence.' He mumbles as your fingers slip through his pubic hair and make his skin tingle. Already his cock his half hard and swelling fast, just at the mere thought of your hand wrapping around it.
'Yeah, you think so, huh?' Biting your lip, you wait until the breath catches in the back of his throat to stop his onward march.
He swallows.
Sitting up on an elbow, you tilt your head and press a kiss to his mouth, before whispering against his lips. 'Then, maybe my mouth will be better at convincing you...'
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-> Masterlist
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dawndelion-winery · 2 years
Text
In Your Way
Getting them to notice you
Ft. Arlecchino, Capitano, Dottore, Pantalone
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Arlecchino:
Naturally, to run an orphanage, one must have staff to care for the orphans
You seemed enthusiastic enough about the job, though whether it was an actual passion for helping the children or for the generous salary, she'd never truly know
Still, your actions were sincere enough
She did tell you to report to her regularly, but she hadn't expected you to drop by so often
Each time, you had a thorough report of the children's progress and growth, along with your personal suggestions on what they might need
And every time, she'd approve
She sometimes finds herself musing if she'd ever had someone watch over her like that, brushing away the thought with a huff as she returns to her work
What she didn't know was that a strong motivator for your frequent reports was to see her
Your diligent, skillful lord harbinger who entrusted so much to you
You had hoped doing a good job would earn her praise, or at least make you an irreplaceable subordinate
But she had seldom commented on it, the most you'd gotten out of her being a "Not bad, keep it up"
Still, it was enough for your throbbing heart for her to find you reliable, and so you continued to do your best
And then she decided to take a look at your work for herself
She was shocked to find the children beaming at her, and she quickly found she had you to thank for that, since you'd attributed so much of what you had done for them to her benevolence
Indeed, it was the sort of loyalty necessary to raise soldiers
For the first time, she smiled at you. And your heart stopped
"I look forward to more of your good work, my faithful y/n."
Capitano:
Who doesn't love a gentleman?
He'd stepped in when a higher ranked agent was picking on you and you'd been smitten since
You still fondly reminisce about the way he held his hand for you to take, encouraging you to get stronger
You also recall rising through the ranks, eager to prove him right in having faith in you and finally meeting him again after so long
It made your heart flutter when it turned out he did remember you
"Weren't you that recruit I gave a little nudge to some time back? Mm, it seems I was right about you. Now how else will you prove your worth to me?"
You've never seen his face, but fr the sound of his voice, you swore he was smiling at you with pride
He was the one - the one you'd follow into the heat of an uncertain battle with complete faith because that was the sort of strength and charisma he carried himself with
And oh what a sight he was when he fought, as beautiful as he was ruthless, and graceful as he was strong
How many of the harbingers would hype their soldiers with such confidence? A promise to win?
Perhaps it was that confidence in him that led to you taking that bolt of electro for him
"Have I proven my worth, lord harbinger?"
"Not until you return a hero you haven't. And you will, because I promised."
Dottore:
It wasn't uncommon for students at the academia to be passionate when presenting their topic of research to the class
But there was something about him that stood out from the others even if you couldn't pinpoint it
It could've just been the fact that his ideas were,,,less than humane yet he spoke of them so clinically as though it hardly mattered
But you liked to think it was the way his eyes, already a startling crimson, seemed to light up as he spoke of his thesis
More than the average student's curious experimentation, he was ambitious unlike any other, claiming that with time and resources, he'd be able to create a god
Insane as it sounded, the more you listened, the more you found yourself believing he could
And so began your puppy love, trailing after him as you sang his praises
He had tried shooing you off, thinking this was some prank
But when the people who antagonised him for being a freak began to target you for associating with him, he soon realised that wasn't the case
Insufferable as you were to keep clinging to him, he found himself intrigued by your strange 'loyalty' - if he could call it that
It started with him letting you sit around the lab as he worked so you wouldn't be picked on the moment he shut the door on you
Then he started sending you out on errands for him, surprising you with the trust he was giving you (little as it was)
As you spent more time with him, you grew to enjoy each other's company, and you had finally grown out of your one sided pining
You realised how fruitless it would be, to long for someone who had already devoted himself to his dreams
But hope was a funny thing, and as you prepared to bid him farewell and best of luck on his journey, his hands found yours first
"C'mon then, assistant. I've plenty more to do, and if this forsaken palace of fools won't give me what I need, we'll have to take it ourselves."
Perhaps you had become close after all, if he was insistent on bringing you with him
Pantalone:
There is nothing bankers are better at than rolling money until they're rolling in it
As such, they naturally require substantial collateral for and equally substantial loan
Which was why he was quick to decline you a loan for your business venture despite your insistence that you'd succeed
"As well thought out as you make it out to be, your proposal is simply too outlandish for us to gamble on. Be a dear and stop giving my staff a hard time, they've seen you often enough this past week."
Well, if the Northland Bank wouldn't give you a loan, you'd get the bank himself to give you money
You'd put far too much time and effort into the hopes of achieving this little business venture of yours and you just knew it'd be a success if you could only have a few months to get it going
So what other choice did you have than to attempt to seduce the ninth harbinger and have him fund you
You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you'd thought he'd at least humour you a little instead of having the guards see you out
But you'd be damned if you gave up there
Thus came the game of cat and mouse and for once, Pantalone was the one who had to hide
It rather irked him and so he caved, if only to have you stop tracking him down
And you being the kin soul you are offered to return his investment by making him a shareholder<3
"I'll play along then. But mind you, if you lose this little game and fail to pay me back, I'll simply own you in exchange."
A terrible gamble but one you took nonetheless, much to his surprise, since he'd hoped the situation would scare you into leaving him alone
Even moreso when you did succeed and slapped his money back at him
"Now about that loan so I can expand-"
"It's still a no."
"What?"
"Our current arrangement works just fine, no?" he said, slipping you a blank cheque. "Consider this...a personal investment."
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Taglist[send an ask to be added/removed]: @myluvkeiji @pluvioseprince @aqui-soba @euphoric-author @paradise-creator @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @serenenation @loverofthe-stars @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @yuzuricebun @chaosinanutshell @howlantic @codename-hiraeth @andreiling01 @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating
Obligatory @cxlrosii and @i23kazu , my beloved Dottore kisser and Capitano kisser
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silkjade · 1 year
Text
in the moment we’re lost & found
Featuring— albedo, kaveh, zhongli, dainsleif ⤀ gn!reader, reincarnation au but also a some soulmate au vibes (?), dark / light academia themed a/n: i picked charas i thought would suit the aesthetic cus my favorite flavor of reincarnation au has to do with art and museums / luv history + art + museums + galleries !
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— 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐎
as an up-and-coming artist, albedo is a rising star in teyvat’s art world, but lately he’s been haunted by a face he sees only in his dreams. it’s unclear, and it drives him insane that he can’t quite make out all the details of this mysterious figure. albedo, whose artwork is notoriously lifelike, knows that something just isn't right; something is missing and he can't quite grasp it. countless times, he's tried to translate the idea of you onto paper, and countless times he's ripped out pages of his sketchbook, the abandoned drawings left crumpled in random corners of his studio, of his house, of his room. they say the mind is unable to create faces of its own so where did you come from? it consumes him— the way you replay in his head once he closes his eyes, as if he'd somehow stolen the memories of somebody else. perhaps this is what the tortured artists sing of when they descend to madness, haunted by an absent muse. at least… until the fateful day he sees you out on the cobbled streets of mondstadt. you pass by quickly, the moment as fleeting as a shooting star, and something in albedo clicks. he doesn’t have time to think, he just moves. his muse is here now within reach; how can he risk letting you slip away?
— 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇
careless collision, staggering steps… you snap your eyes shut as you try to mentally prepare yourself for the utter humiliation of falling into the akademiya fountain. except it never comes. your eyes flutter open, and are instantly met with just about the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. however, his expression is one of shock, as if he’s just as surprised as you are of his own actions, and truth be told, he is. because he seemed to have been able to watch the scene unfold, even before the other party had bumped into you. because kaveh is sure something had come over him, with the way time appeared to have stopped and his legs moved of their own accord. like his body was suddenly able to predict the future, or that it was the work of some absurd sense of muscle memory. even so, the weight of you in his grasp feels uncannily familiar. in a good way. it feels right; it feels like he had waited his whole life for this moment.
and suddenly you're hyperaware of how close the two of you actually are— but also of how safe you feel with his arm wrapped around your waist, or of how his large doe eyes seem to peer into your very soul, the carmine hues dancing with renewed life. you really can't shake the overwhelming feeling that you've met before, that perhaps this isn't your first time around at all. and so you have to ask, “have we met before?”
"no, but I'd like to again."
— 𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈
you quite literally walk into zhongli, knocking his documents out of his hands and all across the marble floor of liyue’s national museum. zhongli sighs without looking up; he had spent the better half of a day organizing contracts and paperwork for a loan agreement to inazuma, though he supposes he should share in the blame for not watching where he was going. hundreds of years have passed since the immortal ex-archon worked as a funeral consultant; these days, zhongli opts to spend his time surrounded by artifacts of bygone times and bygone people. but when he looks up, his golden eyes widen and his blood runs cold at the sight of you in front of him. he freezes, as if time seems to have stopped for the both of you. his focus shifts back and forth between you and the painting across the room: a seemingly ordinary portrait, dated from around the time of the blonde traveler. still, whenever asked, he can confidently say that it’s his favorite piece, even in this house of invaluable artifacts and monuments to heroes, even among all the rich antiquities teyvat has to offer. and here you were in front of him, a perfect match to the painting's subject. the one whom he had once held so dear before being torn away by the hands of time, is now kneeling on the floor in front of him, frantically trying to gather the scattered documents, of which he had long deemed irrelevant. he feels his impenetrable stone heart flutter for the first time in what feels like a millennia because it’s you. he's sure of it. it's you, it's you, it's you.
— 𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐈𝐅
ever since your move to mondstadt, you've started having satin dreams of knights and castles, false flowers and fictional faces; dreams that undoubtedly end in war and destruction because everything shifts. castles crumble, faces morph— it becomes a nightmare so vivid it feels more akin to a memory than a dream. but through it all only one thing remains constant in that, in every iteration, you always fall in love with the same blonde man.
wandering the tranquil halls of mondstadt's national gallery, you find yourself before The Destruction of Khaenri'ah, a painting tragically beautiful in it's depiction of the ancient nation's condemnation by the heavens. you feel your eyes threaten to water, the ache in your chest an indication that the same anguish you've felt in your nightmares, has now sunk its claws into your heart. it's the first time a piece of art has moved you like this. so much so that you’re rooted in a trance-like state until someone beside you clears his throat, snapping you back to reality. he himself also gazes at the painting although his arm is outstretched; a handkerchief in offering for your tears. it isn't until your fingers brush against his that the blonde man turns to meet your gaze. shades of cerulean, bluer than the depths of the seas, all a mere backdrop to the stars shining in his eyes. stars that match the ones sitting in your own eyes. your heart skips a beat at the revelation. it's him, the man from your dreams. he’s real.
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TAGLIST ;; @meimeimeirin @mixed-kester @salmonthepan @hcbnkdf @moonrolling
(send an ask to be added/removed. if you’re bolded, it means I cannot tag you; your blog might be hidden ! )
© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform
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ticklemerainbows · 9 months
Text
Aestheticore Legacy Challenge
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Hullo friends! I have been searching for a little while for a legacy challenge that I could also use as some sort of perfect genetics challenge and I figured, why not make my own. So the aestheticore legacy challenge was born! As you can tell from the title, this challenge is centered around differed aesthetics. There are a ton of aesthetics out there so it was hard to pick just 10, and some of these I’ve never heard of before so I’m excited to try this out! 
If you decide to do this, tag me ticklemerainbows or aestheticore challenge so I can see! And feel free to let me know what you think. This is my first challenge so if there’s things I could do different/better let me know!
And without further ado, the challenge.
                                                         ~x~x~x~
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Generation One - Cottagecore
Your favorite thing about living on family land is the garden. It’s been around for at least the last 10 generations, and you want nothing more than to keep it going, but living in a city isn’t for you. So you pack up, take a keepsake plant from the garden and move to a quiet town in order to grow your own garden that will hopefully last for generations to come!
Requirements:  The Perfect Garden
Live on a small (no bigger than 30x30) lot
Maintain a garden for the entire generation
Reach level 10 Gardening
Make a living off your plants
Suggested Traits: Green Thumb, Loves the Outdoors
Color: Green
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Generation Two - Auroracore 
You try your hardest to help your parents on the farm but you can’t help but have your head in the clouds. Fairy tales are your favorite genre of anything, and while living on a farm is all fine and dandy - you absolutely love your horse, you did raise it from a baby after all! - you always wonder if there’s something more. Like, a unicorn, perhaps?
Requirements:  The Fairy Tale Finder
Raise a horse from foal to adult
Reach level 10 in the Riding Skill
Have your horse get the Friend of the Herd Lifetime Reward
Search for a unicorn anytime there’s an aurora
Suggested Traits: Equestrian, Animal Lover
Color: Lilac
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Generation Three - Light Academia
Being raised by someone who’s lifelong mission was to find a supernatural creature was surprisingly not as chaotic as it would sound, though you still prefer to stay more…grounded. While your parents were out hunting, you preferred to keep your head in the books, earning a scholarship to get into University. 
Requirements:  The Perfect Student
Get on honor roll as a child/teen
Earn a scholarship in any subject
Buy the bookstore
Suggested Traits: Socially Awkward, Workaholic, Perfectionist, Bookworm
Color: Beige
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Generation Four - Fairycore
Your grandmother always told you about her times with her unicorn friend, and while you never quite believed her, you fell in love with the idea of supernatural creatures altogether. Magic, fairies, it all sounds so fantastical that you even begin trying to figure out if you can turn yourself into a magical creature!
Requirements:  Alchemy Artisan
Reach level 10 Alchemy
Visit the arboretum once a week to search for fairies
Befriend a fairy
Use an elixir to become a fairy
Suggested Traits: Supernatural Fan, Gatherer
Color: Pink
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Generation Five - Comfy/Cozy
Life around magic has been a whirlwind, and you are anything but all that excitement. Having a grandparent who owns a bookstore has its perks, and you spend most of your time curled up with a good book and a warm cup of tea. Leaving your house to work doesn’t sound too appealing but you don’t have to go outside to write, do you?
Requirements:  Professional Author
Join the bookclub
Visit the library at least 3 times a season
Reach level 10 Writing
Write a best selling novel
Suggested Traits: Bookworm, Couch Potato, Artistic
Color: Orange
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Generation Six - Decora
You always get asked how you turned out so outgoing when you were raised by homebodies, and you never have an answer for that. You just love being around people, and more importantly dressing those people up. You want to fill as many peoples lives with as much color as possible.
Requirements:  Fashion Phenomenon
Change your outfit every season
Reach level 10 Painting
Makeover at least 10 sims
Become best friends with one of your clients
Suggested Traits: Charismatic, Artistic, Excitable
Color: Magenta
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Generation Seven - Jamcore
You love color just as much as your parents, but not so much the fashion part. Your clothes get way too messy as you experiment in the kitchen, after all. Creating yummy, colorful dishes are where your passions lie and you are determined to learn as much about the culinary arts as you possibly can.
Requirements:  The Culinary Librarian
Cook meals for your family every day
Grow a fruit orchard on the family farm
Have a personal recipe library
(Optional) Use the Grandma’s Canning Station once a week
Suggested Traits: Natural Cook, Bookworm
Color: Yellow
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Generation Eight - Nautical
See the line where the sky meets the sea? It calls ye. You’ve always been drawn to the water, so much so that your family jokes that you might be a mermaid. Swimming, fishing, boating, it all appeals to you. You’d live on a houseboat, if given the chance. 
Requirements:  Presenting the Perfect Aquarium
Own a boat
Install a pond on your family land
Move into a houseboat
Reach level 10 Fishing
Suggested Traits: Loves to Swim, Angler
Color: Blue
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Generation Nine - Wanderlust
Your parents loved the open sea but you want to see what’s beyond that! Visiting other cities, and even other countries. Learning and immersing yourself in the culture. You’ve read books about it, watched shows, and now that you’re old enough it’s time to dust off your visa and visit those places for yourself.
Requirements:  Seasoned Traveler
Reach level 10 in Photography
Collect a relic from each location
Go on at least 1 adventure in each country
Marry someone from a foreign country
Suggested Traits: Adventurer, Perfectionist
Color: Red
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Generation Ten - Synthwave
You spent your life in other countries, other cultures, and you have to wonder, what more is there? You’ve inherited a love of traveling but is it possible to go to other timelines, or even the future? There’s not much research on it now but there’s only one way to find out. To the future!
Requirements:  Made the Most of My Time
Become best friends with Emit
Reach Level 10 in Advanced Technology
Complete the Time Keeper Legacy Statue Challenge
Create a time machine
Suggested Traits: Friendly, Adventurer
Color: Black
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jujutsubaby · 27 days
Text
after hours (part 7)
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☆ pairing: toji fushiguro x afab!reader, satoru gojo x afab!reader ☆ summary: time to face the music, even if you're hungover. and by music...it's the missed calls and texts and from toji. what could he possibly want? ☆ tags: modern au, academia au, babysitting au ☆ warnings: mentions of alcohol, food poisoning, sexting, slight dubcon, dirty talking ☆ a/n: another longie (7.8k+ words SORRY) but i hope you guys enjoy the foreplay. y/n is about to be dicked down every day like good for her!! but also!! wish that were me! 🤭 next one will be filled with smut so dw u horndogs!! also i'm unsure when then 3sum will come but i'm thinking in like SOON in like...10ish parts (i hope not more). i want to slow burn lead up to it and hint it more before actually writing about it LOL (also ik it sounds like a taco bell commercial in the end its not ok i just love taco bell!!!) 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤
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the soft morning light shines through curtains you forgot to close last night, and the harshness of the sun causes you to stir in your sleep, waking you harshly.
your heart beats fast and you open your eyes and are unable to move a single limb on your body. panic sets in, only to dissipate seconds later as you find a rather tall lump of a man’s leg trapping you in the corner of your sofa.
ugh, how did i get here? why is it so bright? why does every inch of my body hurt? oh god, i’m about hurl.
you barely hold back dry heaving in your laid down position. your head is pounding and you don’t like how empty your stomach is right now. why do my legs hurt? i feel like i can’t feel them anymore. oh, right.
the large shape of a man who’s body is halfway strewn across yours, satoru, is now constricting the blood flow to your legs, and you know you have to do the daunting task of waking him up.
“psst, satoru. wake up.” you lightly pat his unruly head of white hair, but with no success. you start hitting his head harder, as you quickly start to lose more feeling in your legs, until you practically are shouting his name, swatting his head and kicking his torso. satoru abruptly wakes and turns around the small sofa, which actually has no room for turning, so he actually ends up taking a small dive into the hardwood floors of your living room.
satoru lets a groggy yet painful groan. “what the literal fuck, y/n?!” his words are almost incoherent with sleep laced between them as he rubs his arms that took the brunt of the fall. “as if my head isn’t aleady fuckin’ killin’ me.”
you groan out in pain. “my legs were being suffocated by your large body!”
none of you answer, and continue to lay still in your respective positions for what feels like hours, until your headache becomes almost too unbearable to withstand.
“satoru~” you whine out. “m’head…it hurts so much, i feel like i’m gonna die…” you turn your body as slow as you can to the edge of the couch to see satoru’s face. his eyes are still closed, but scrunched, and his hand is resting on his forehead.
“it’s called a hangover. get in line, stupid.”
“don’t call me stupid right now, satoru. i’m in pain!” you cry out, your fingers doing their best to sooth your pain by rubbing harsh circles on your temples.
satoru slowly sits up without looking at you, grabs a decorative pillow from the chaise of your couch, and immediately face plants on to it on the floor, effectively falling asleep once more. you think that’s not a bad idea, now that you have more space, and close your eyes and force your mind to concentrate on anything but your throbbing head.
okay, so we got back from the barcade. me and satoru…we…kissed. we definitely kissed. i remember that. and then? did we have sex? no, that doesn’t like us - neither of us are keen on having sex drunk for a variety of reasons besides the obvious ones.
your thoughts slowly drown out as you find yourself falling into a second deep slumber.
the second time you and satoru wake for the day is the most disconcerting: a loud, high pitched scream.
you wake up with your heart pounding so hard, you think you’re dying from cardiac arrest. satoru thinks he threw up in his mouth from how fast he stood up with a headache. both of your eyes look at the direction of the scream and see a horrified and bewildered shoko staring wide eyes and slack jawed at you. wait, why isn’t she looking at my eyes? she’s looking at my…oh my god!
you look down and see your bralette lightly torn up and your titties completely exposed and you immediately turn to look at satoru (who’s alternating between staring at your eyes and your tits). and then back at shoko.
oh? oh. OH. OH! it fucking hits you like a ton of bricks and your hungover brain immediately goes into panic mode, shoving all signals of hunger, pain, and soreness aside.
“sh-shoko, it’s obviously not like that. this is actually so funny, you know…” you do a failed attempt at a lighthearted chuckle and fumble around for a decorative pillow until satoru hands you the one he was sleeping on.
“yeah, it’s not at all what you think it is. i didn’t…i didn’t even know she had boobs until like…right now. i swear, it’s not-” satoru bumbles, also going into damage control.
“save it. i don’t care. not right now, when i’m too hungover,” shoko says, closing her eyes and raising a hand up as she bolts to her room and closes the door.
you figure you do the same and hastily get up and grab satoru’s hands. the two of you stumble your way into your bedroom and lock the door and catch your breaths.
“ohmygod this is so embarrassing,” you say whisper, not wanting shoko to overhear your conversation. you start rubbing your temples again as satoru face plants, again, on to your bed. he doesn’t respond to you so you join him and push him to his back and try to get his attention. his eyes are still scrunched closed and he lets out a groan.
“satoru, do you even know what happened? shoko probably thinks we had…ugh i can’t even say it!”
this makes him open one eye to look at you and cock an eyebrow. he lets out a laugh, which makes you let out laugh (against your will). you playfully hit his chest but he intercepts your wrists with ease and pulls you on top of him so that your sitting up on his torso while he’s laying down.
this feels nice but…you know deep down you two should probably address the elephant in the room. you uncomfortably clear your throat and he opens his eyes. “maybe we should talk about last night…” you say with a sigh.
“what’s there to say? there’s nothing wrong with two friends kissing,” satoru says cheekily, his voice still slightly deep and groggy. kinda hot.
his response puts you at ease, and your fingers start toying with the buttons on his shirt (not in a sexual way, but in a ‘this feels nice to fidget with so i don’t have anxiety’ kinda way).
“yeah, but maybe we should…i dunno…talk about it?” you question, avoiding eye contact with him.
“like?”
“like, i dunno…” you start to chicken out before forcing yourself to say what you really want to say. “i dunno…are we only gonna kiss each other from now on? because i kinda still…wanna kiss toji…” your voice becomes barely audible near the end.
satoru stays quiet for longer than you anticipated, and you’re about to step off him to throw up in the bathroom before he finally responds with a resounding hum.
“yeah, i don’t mind. if i’m being honest…with us having school and work and all…it might be hard to make this an exclusive thing. and also…i know mia was a bitch to literally everyone but…god…” satoru sighs deeply. “her ass was insane, i’m sorry!”
you laugh wholeheartedly and grab a nearby pillow and hit his head softly in jest. you should’ve known someone like satoru, someone as horny as satoru, would not want to be tied down during grad school just yet. a sense of relief washes over you as you feel grateful that satoru has always matched your wavelength since high school. you start to think of the second elephant in the room. what will we tell shoko? and suguru? and utahime and literally all of our friends? there’s no telling shoko hasn’t already told utahime…
“also…maybe we should keep this between us…for now. especially after…” you trail off, deep in thought about the prospect of your friends finding out. 
“yeah, that sounds like a good idea…” satoru says, smirking slowly. “definitely because of our friends but also…it’s always fun to have a sexy secret with someone.”
“shut up!” you give him a smack across the chest, before thinking. i mean, it’s not like you hated kissing him. and you didn’t hate it when he played with your titties. “maybe…i mean…maybe we can still, you know, fool around still?” you say shyly.
“maybe we can fuck too if that’s something you’re down for?” satoru says unabashedly.
you lean your body down, pressing against him, and bring your lips inches from his lips, before saying you’d like that a lot. he closes the gap and starts kissing you deeply, just like the night before. satoru’s hands move up and down your hips, leaving no part of your torso untouched. your hips buckle into his and starts grinding against his already hard member. your skirt from last night has already risen up, so the cool metals of his belt are grinding up and down your clothed core, making you squirm and moan into his mouth.
satoru breaks the kiss and you whine at the loss of contact. your lips immediately latch on to his neck, leaving small wet spots all over.
satoru groans. “fuck, need this off.” he puts his fingers around the waistband of your skirt and shimmies it off of you, leaving you exposed in your thong and have ripped bralette.
your hands immediately get to work and unbuckles his belt. your hands fumble as you unzip his pants and slide them halfway down, his erect clothed member coming into view. satoru lets out a throaty breath as you start palming his hard member and leaving kisses from his neck down to his happy trail. before you’re able to start kissing below the belt, satoru pulls your head up via bunching up your hair into a makeshift ponytail and starts to kiss you as he sits up. 
“maybe we should take this into the shower…” he mumbles in between kisses. you nod and break off the kiss. 
“what time is it?” you say, as you look around for your phone. you find it only to see that the battery is completely dead. frowning, you get up to charge it before continuing your activities with satoru. 
“jesus, it’s 11 in the mornin’” satoru says, sounding slightly flustered. “fuck! i’m gonna be late for a lab meeting!” he says, as he starts to put his belt back on.
you frown. “so no shower sex?”
“i promise you, i want nothing more than to fuck your brains out in that shower.” satoru scrunches his eyes, and you wonder if he’s in genuine pain over the fact that he can’t. “but i unfortunately told nanami i’d personally talk to professor masamichi about his referral.”
“since when do you care about holding up your end of the bargain like that?” you say, cocking an eyebrow. you’ve known satoru for years, and you don’t think he’s ever showed up to a professional meeting on time, nor did he ever care to follow through with requests given to him by his peers.
“yeahhh, i know but nanami said he’s gonna send a deep web hitman for me after tricking him into my party and forcing him to be on my pool team…soo…”
“you’re so insane.”
“i think i’m going insane forfeiting pussy to go to a lab meeting, alright?”
you laugh softly. perhaps it’s probably a good time to let satoru go so you can begin your day. you have a laundry list of things to get done that thinking about it is enough for you to feel sick (showering, studying, talking to shoko without satoru there, and more things you know you’re forgetting). “well, thanks for offering anyway,” you say. 
“c’mere,” satoru says, holding out his arms to you. you melt into the hug he gives you and look up. 
“still seein’ you for study group later?” you ask him, recalling you, nanami, and haibara were planning to do some studying for your final at the university library later this evening. 
“oh shit, yeah. gotta clean up the aftermath of last night at my place and then i’ll be there,” he assures you, before grabbing his phone. you quickly put on a pair of pajama shorts and replace your torn up bralette with an old sleeping oversized tee and lead satoru to the doorway of your apartment. you wave goodbye to him, and prepare yourself to have a potentially awkward conversation with shoko after what she saw this morning. 
you scurry to shoko’s bedroom and knock twice on the door, and shoko immediately opens it and lets you in. you give her a pouty look, internally apologizing for the sight in the morning. it’s not necessarily that she saw you topless (you guys are roommates and nip slips happen), it’s more so that you were topless with satoru. 
“glad to see you finally wearing clothes, you slut,” shoko says tiredly. you can detect a slight joking tone in her voice and it relaxes you immediately. you sigh softly. 
“listen, shoko.” you start but hesitate. you want to tell shoko what really happened last night, but you remember you’re the one who didn’t want to tell your mutual friends about you and satoru. shoko and you have been best friends for so long and you can’t bear to lie to her or keep something from her. no literally, you tried to in the past but she saw through you within minutes and you ended up divulging everything to her. you figure now is no different, and you also trust her not to tell suguru or anyone else. 
shoko snaps her fingers at you. “hello, y/n? where’d ya go?”
“i hooked up with satoru last night.” you say quickly, praying she doesn’t ask you to say it again. 
shoko is silent and you cannot read her face for the life of you. “okay, it wasn’t even a hook up, i dunno why i said that. we just made out and like sortofmadeittosecondbasebutit’snotthatserious-”
your rambling is interrupted by shoko’s laughter howling across the room. shoko tries to calm down and collect herself. “wow, i mean, i sort of clocked it because of how you were this morning but oh my god? like it finally happened?”
you plop down on her bed next to her and shake her to make her stop laughing. “shokoo~ stop it! i was really horny last night, okay!” you’re scrambling to defend yourself from this blunder. 
“yeah, but him? kinda…embarrassing, no? i mean i know he’s hot, like even i can attest to that but gojo is like…hot and insufferable…like i’m happy for you but at what cost to you?” shoko explains as she wipes away tears from her eyes from laughing too hard. 
“i know, it is embarrassing and i dunno what i see in him but…when i see him…shoko,” you start rubbing your temples as you feel your headache coming on again. “i just wanna fuckin’ jump his bones, dude.” you think you hear shoko mumble something about how she cannot stand straight people. she has a point. 
“so what now?” shoko asks, getting up from her bed and grabbing her scrubs from her closet, slowly getting ready for her shift at the hospital. 
“well, for starters, you cannot tell anyone because we said we would keep it secret so you gotta pretend you dunno about this.” you go on to tell shoko about how you guys would continue to fool around casually. “it’s because we have so much going on and you know…i still wanna kiss toji.” wait, toji. toji’s text? did he respond. how could you have forgotten something you were obsessing over the whole night yesterday?! it finally hits you that satoru finally took your mind off of toji for a while, and that he could’ve finally messaged you back this morning. 
shoko mulls this information over for a bit, and you already know what her next question is. “can i tell utahime? pleeeaaassseeee!” she whines. 
“if you tell utahime she might actually kill me in my sleep.” you say exhasperatedly. 
“no, no she won’t. she might want to take you for a psych eval or something but that’s it. she might throw up too, i guess. and she might cry for you. and she-”
“okay, i’ve heard enough.” you stop shoko, getting up from her bed and heading back to your room. before exiting shoko’s bedroom, you quickly give her permission to tell utahime but no one else. it’s quite pathetic how fast you run to your desk where your phone lay charging. your practically jumps out of your chest as you see 5 missed text messages from toji: 
toji: Holy fuck, pumpkin 🥵 your titties are so fuckin insane. im so fuckin hard right now.
toji: Wyd tn? 
toji: You’ve made me so hard right now n someone’s gotta help me fix this mess. Im bout to beat myself off to this pic fuck
toji: [1 Photo] 
toji: [1 Video]
you open the photo he sent and gasp. it’s a photo of him in front of his mirror, shirtless, and him holding his clearly erect member, except it’s barely peeking through the granite counter tops of his bathroom. you open the video and see it’s a video of him…oh my god, it’s a video of him touching himself? you’re appalled and turned on because he looks so good in it and you wish it was you getting him off instead. you check the timestamp, and you’re embarrassed to realize he sent this around the time you were having your heavy makeout session with satoru or around the time you passed out shortly after.
the video continues to play as you strip yourself completely, creep to the bathroom, and turn on the shower. as you wait for it to get to the temperature you like, you continue to watch the video of toji stroking himself, and your hand automatically guides itself to your already wet and throbbing core. just knowing toji recorded this for your viewing pleasure (and it was indeed an immense pleasure viewing it) turned you on so much that you felt near your climax already. you start rubbing harsher circles on your delicate bundle of nerves, until you’re unable to hold back any longer. the sound of the shower blocks out your throaty moans, and you end up coming undone around the same time as toji does in the video. you breath heavily as you see white streaks painting toji’s shower, not dissimilar from your location. 
through heavy breaths, you quickly send a picture of your fingers resting and covering the bare “v” on your body. this time, you immediately get a response. 
toji: Fuck pumpkin, you left me all alone last night and now you do this?
immediately you respond back, biting back a smile. 
y/n: you’re the one who left me hanging all day :( i had to cum all by myself just right now looking at your video daddy
you hit send and it’s been only 10 seconds before you see that toji is ringing you. you let it ring a little bit longer, not wanting to sound desperate for him, even though you totally are. “hii toji~” you say sultrily. 
“pumpkin, you better come over tonight.” toji’s husky voice sends shivers through your spine, and you have to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes in pleasure. god, this is just what his voice does to you? you want him bad. 
“hmm, why should i? i’m hurt after you ignored me all day, toji.” you try to sound strict and upset over the phone but it’s hard when your body is already ready for another orgasm. 
“aww don’t gimme that,” toji coos. “i’ll take care of your pretty little puss- oh whoops, megumi is here, but you know what i mean.” you can hear him smirking on the other line and you almost get second-hand embarrassment from him almost saying a bad word in front of megumi. 
“how can you take care of me when you don’t even respond to my texts?” you whine. “go fuck the other girl you were fucking last night instead of me.” oh wow. you don’t know where that came from, but the hangover you have right now is making you feel brattier than usual. and you actually do want to know what he was doing (or who) all day yesterday, even if it makes you a hypocrite since you were with satoru last night (and this morning). 
you hear toji roar with laughter, a little too much in your opinion, and you pout. where does he get off laughing about how he ghosted me last night? “okay, if you must know…megumi got himself some classic food poisoning from the parent-teacher conference.” though the parent-teacher conference feels decades away, your heart drops for poor megumi and you gasp. “calm down pumpkin, he’s fine now so don’t worry. his friends just made him eat somethin’ weird on the playground, i think.”
“oh my god, toji!” you say horrified. “okay, i’m coming over tonight with some soup. and not for you okay, for megumi.” who are you kidding? you’re also partially going so toji could fuck your brains out but you’re not about to give him that satisfaction. 
“whatever you say, pumpkin. see you at 6:30? i’ll make dinner.” ugh, he always knows what to say to sound so romantic and you fall for it all the time. plus, seeing a domestic toji in the kitchen…god you can’t even think about it because you might end up screaming at how horny you might get.
“see ya, daddy.” you say jokingly. toji and you say goodbye and hang up. you quickly shoot a text to your study group quickly making up an excuse as to why you can no longer come. while nanami and haibara respond in the group with thumbs ups, satoru messages you privately. 
satoru: wtf i didn’t know fucking you this evening was still on the table?
 you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. what the hell is he on about?
y/n: what r u talkin about u weirdo
satoru doesn’t respond, and you’ve been wasting so much water already having an entire phone conversation with toji and, admittedly touching yourself that you might as well get in. the hot shower envelops your sore body, and before you’re able to fully wet yourself, you hear the ding of your phone. you really shouldn’t…but you were never good at controlling yourself. you quickly open the shower and bring your phone in, shielding it from the water. 
satoru: u obvi cancelled to see toji im not stupid
y/n: no comment 
satoru: cancel on him i promise u baby i will fuck u better and harder tn
your eyes widen at the offer. you recall a couple nights ago refusing a similar offer he texted you, but this time felt more serious. you want to see toji, but you also want to see satoru. you’re about to mull over the options before an image of a sick megumi pops into your forehead, and you immediately know you have to go to toji to at the very least see megumi and maybe read him a couple bedtime stories and help him with some missed homework. 
y/n: toji’s kid got food poisoning :( i feel like i should go see him but…let’s link tomorrow?
satoru: he’s using his kid to get pussy that is insane. but yes ok fine cya -_-
you chuck your phone outside the shower, and close your eyes. you try to think of things that don’t involve sexy moments with satoru or toji…or satoru and toji and instead think of how much extra studying you have to get done tonight since you’re opting to go to see toji. as always, you fail to think of anything else.
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the timer for the soup you’re making for megumi beeps and you turn it off hastily, determined to finish up one last problem set before going to the kitchen. through some miraculous intervention (and advil), you were able to hunker down and solve through the problem sets you were supposed to solve with your study group and prepare a simple chicken soup for megumi. after five minutes, you check your work hastily, before deciding it’s enough for you to get full marks and sprint to the kitchen, which now smells like chicken stock and veggies and you hum. you’re excited for megumi to try the soup your mom had made for you whenever you had food poisoning. 
you go back to your room and finish packing your bags and picking your outfit for the night. since you’re  just staying indoors with toji, and the weather says it’ll be a pretty warm evening, you opt for your comfiest pair of fleece shorts and a well loved collegiate sweatshirt. you’ve perfected the art of a “no makeup” makeup look throughout the years, so you’re able to get by with just throwing your hair in a messy bun and calling it day. you quickly grab a large to-go soup container for the soup and pack your bags to head to toji’s place. 
you hate feeling like a child but just merely thinking of seeing toji after him being so distant with you yesterday has your heart doing cartwheels like you’re in fifth grade with a crush. you’re also excited to see a domestic toji in action in his fancy kitchen. maybe a bit too excited, you think, as you feel the wetness pool around your core. god, snap out of it already! the night hasn’t even started yet. 
you drive into toji’s 4-car driveway, only to see toji’s garage door open. huh, that’s weird. you normally park in his driveway (he’s asked you to so you’re not left walking to your car during the late nights when you babysit) so you pull up anyway, despite the confusion. you see toji’s head peek through the garage door inside and he looks…oh, he looks kinda upset. you’re about to get out of the car and meet toji but he starts to walk towards you, his face only softening a tiny bit, which is unusual. oh, something must’ve really annoyed him. 
you open your car door and get out halfway to talk to toji. “hey toji, you okay? what’s wrong?” your voice is laced with concern. once toji gets within arms length of you, you reach up and start rubbing his chest in an effort to sooth him. 
toji grunts, and quickly leans down to peck your lips. “sorry pumpkin, megumi just told me he signed up to bring brownies for his soccer potluck early tomorrow morning. n’ they gotta be homemade.”
you furrow your brows even more in confusion. you know about the monthly potlucks megumi has with his soccer team on the weekends, but there’s usually some silly theme to them (last month’s was barbie themed so everyone had to bring in something pink). you guess this time around the theme is homemade meals and treats. “what’s the issue? there’s still plenty of time to grab something from the store…”
“the issue is i wanted to use that time to cook something nice for my son’s insanely hot babysitter, y/n.” toji replies bluntly. 
“ohh~” it came out of you by accident, and you’re a little embarrassed as you feel the heat rising to your cheeks. “th-that’s fine toji. you don’t need to-”
“i wanted to…and then i wanted to eat her pussy for dessert.” his eyes darken and he smirks coyly. toji pulls your body closer to his and leans down to give you your first proper kiss of the night. your arms wrap around his neck, which he uses as a signal to deepen the kiss by inserting his tongue into your mouth. you allow him and his tongue wastes no time exploring every inch of your mouth. you find yourself moaning into the kiss softly and tugging on his hair, until you hear megumi yell for toji from the garage. you both immediately snap back into a respectful distance apart. 
“daddy, i’m ready to go.” megumi says, his voice slightly tired. you grab your bag and soup container from your car and walk inside the garage to greet megumi, who’s eyes beam when they see you. he runs to you for a hug, which you gladly return with one hand. 
“hey there, kiddo. heard you were sick last night,” you say pityingly. 
“yeah i ‘frew up because yuji and nobara dared me to eat some weird smelling cheese from the cafeteria.”
you make a disgusted face. “megumiii, you have to stop doing stuff because you think it’ll make you look cool. it’s just gross.” you stand up and turn to toji. “i made him some chicken soup, it’s still warm so be careful but i think it might help him out.” 
toji thanks you and takes the soup and your bag from you. he tells you to wait out here with megumi while he quickly puts it inside the fridge. you turn to megumi sympathetically again. “how are you feelin’ now, bud?”
“i’m totally fine now!!!” he says very energetically, doing various dramatic stretches to supposedly “prove” that he was all good. “but…daddy’s mad because now he has to make brownies instead of dinner for us.”
“daddy will get over it, don’t worry.” you wink to megumi. “i’ll put in a good word for you. maybe i’ll even help you bake some brownies, kay?”
megumi’s eyes light up at the sound of baking a sweet treat with you, and it melts your heart. “really?! you mean it?!” you nod in response and give his cheeks a friendly pinch, causing him to laugh. 
“what’s going on, you guys talking shit about me?” toji walks into the garage, and you finally get a proper glimpse of what he’s wearing: loose slim fitted grey sweats and a skin tight compression shirt (that perfectly shows off his toned chest), which he’s currently covering up (to your dismay) with a black fitted quarter zip. it almost makes you forget about how he swore in front of megumi. almost. 
“toji! don’t say that word in front of your son, oh my god.” you playfully chastise him as you pretend to cover megumi’s ears. 
“fuck, my bad. megumi, don’t say what i say.” toji says without a care in the world. 
“shit!” megumi says out loud, and he’s about to say another word but you give him a disappointed glare, which makes him immediately stop saying more alleged swear words. “to be fair, i learn most bad words from nobara. she knows soo many…” okay, you need to dissect that later with him. 
you notice toji reaching for his car keys and you start protesting. “wait, toji, i can drive us. my car is already open and in your driveway anyway…” you’ve never driven toji anywhere, and it’s kind of exciting to potentially have that opportunity now. toji seems to hesitate for a bit, purely out of ego of letting the girl he’s sleeping with drive him somewhere, but acquiesces. you give him a bright smile before taking megumi’s hands and heading to your car. you get him seated in the backseat of your mini cooper, and megumi marvels at being inside your car for the first time. 
“woah! this car is so small and tiny and fun sized!” he says while laughing, and you ruffle his hair. finally, the first person to ever say something nice about the size of your car! 
you shut the door and see toji already on the passenger side furrowing his brows while looking at your car. you know this look. you’ve seen this look on satoru and suguru, and any guy who’s over 6 feet tall and is riding in your car for the first time. 
“pumpkin, i am not gonna fit inside here. let’s just take my car.” 
“don’t be dramatic, you’ll fit. everyone fits inside this car. now get in.” you huff, already getting settled inside and putting on your seatbelt. toji get into the passenger seat, and the sheer weight of his build causes the car to shake. he adjusts his seat and tries to get as comfortable as he can. you see his legs are bent in uncomfortable angles as he puts his seatbelt on. 
“this is the last time i’m getting in your tiny ass car, y/n. i feel like i’m about to die.” oh he called you by your name. he’s definitely hating this but…he did ignore you the whole day yesterday. sure, megumi was sick but it would’ve taken 10 seconds max to say that through text. 
you start to back out of his driveway and drive to the nearby target. “you’ll get over it. also, i was thinking…” you make eye contact with megumi from the backseat and give him a wink and he returns one as well. “maybe i can help megumi with baking brownies, too. and maybe we can just order takeout instead? spend the rest of time helping megs get his rest for tomorrow?”
you bite your lip and turn to face toji during a red light. you hate to sound cocky, but you know he can’t resist you when you’re looking at him like this, and you’re right. toji obliges, but swears he’s going to pay for dinner regardless, and you don’t object. 
megumi fills the car ride with random tidbits and stories from school and his sick day yesterday while you and toji entertain him. throughout the ride, toji alternates between holding your free hand and rubbing circles on your thighs while you drive, which you make a mental note of telling him not to do because it definitely distracts you from the road. 
at target, the three of you grab ingredients for the brownies pretty quickly, before getting in a moderately long line. while waiting, your eyes wander and see the cutest black lace bralette (pretty similar to the one satoru destroyed last night). you really want to check it out, so you quickly tell toji and get closer to inspect it. the beautiful lace designs are just so your style, and the price range is perfect, too. you make another mental note to come back and make satoru buy it for you. 
“like what you see?” toji’s voice startles you and you turn around quickly, and feel the heat rise to your cheeks. “i think you’d look sexy in it, for what it’s worth.”
“th-thanks, toji. i might get it later…”
“you should get it now. i’ll buy it for you. after all, your bralette got ripped last night, right?” what. the. fuck?
the color drains from your face and if you weren’t feeling hot before, you sure are burning up right now. your throat feels dry and you start stuttering. “wha-what are you talkin’ abou-”
“the one that…god what was his name? satoru? yeah, the one that satoru ripped, right?” toji is fully smirking amusedly now, and you look like a deer caught in his headlights at his mercy. 
“h-how do you know th-that?” you say, your eyes widening at your (slutty) night out being caught by toji. 
“oh, sorry, i thought you knew. i called you last night, pumpkin, remember?” toji inches closer to you and his pupils dilate. your breathing gets more erratic and heavy. what? no he didn’t. or did he? oh my god. it hits you that you answered his call via your body movements with satoru and you didn’t know. and you didn’t bother checking your call logs this morning because there was no missed call from toji since you technically answered it. oh my god. 
“you made me so fuckin’ hard with that pic of your tits, y/n. i had to call you to help me get off, but it seems like you were too busy getting off too.” toji’s lips are inches from your ears, and you can feel his breath as he whispers in your ear, and it makes your eyes roll far back in your head. “i can’t lie, pumpkin, your moans while he was playing with you…” toji groans and you dare to look down his hips to see a tent forming in his gray sweats, making your breath hitch. “it made me so fuckin’ turned on that i just had to touch myself to it. but don’t worry, you didn’t miss much. i sent you a full video of it, too.” 
you have to bite your lip hard to prevent yourself from moaning in the middle of the women’s section of target out of all fucking places, but you let out the tiniest whimper that only toji can hear. 
“don’t worry, pumpkin. i’m not mad you were with someone else. you’re such a needy slut who needs to be taken care of, and when daddy can’t help, you have to find your own way, isn’t that right?” he grabs your jaw roughly and forces you to make eye contact with him. “answer me, pumpkin.” he says more forcefully. 
oh, you are so finished. you are done for. your panties are a complete mess and you wish you had brought a second pair with you because they are just ruined. you swallow before answering toji with a shaky “yes daddy.”
toji releases your jaw, but not before giving your lips a quick peck that leaves you wanting more. way more. he squeezes your ass, which you don’t expect and let out an unfortunate and embarrassing squeak, causing a handful of people nearby you guys to turn around and wonder about the noise for half a second. toji grabs the bralette and heads back to the line where he made megumi wait with the cart. you take a moment to yourself to process the information toji revealed and get your breathing under control before heading back. you feel like maybe you should be upset about this, but…it’s just turning you on? those forbidden feelings you’ve been having about satoru and toji taking you at the same time are bubbling to the surface with toji’s confession, and you force them down unsuccessfully. toji’s a fuckin’ freak but that just turns you on even more. 
in the car, you’re still unable to properly hold a conversation with megumi and toji properly because of how flustered you are. you crack a window open, and you bite your lips so hard that you’re sure you bruised them when toji places his hand on your thigh again. a mangled moan gets stuck in your throat and you cough quickly to cover up any suspicion. 
“s-so, what are we gonna do for dinner? t-takeout? where?” you stutter, quickly trying to regain your composure. 
“i want taco bell!” megumi yells excitedly from the backseat.
“megumi, y/n is our guest here. we can’t just take her to taco bell. think of a nicer place than that. what about panda express?” toji turns around to chastise megumi, but his hands are still firmly gripping your thigh. 
you cough again and wish you had a bottle of water to help your dry throat. “i love taco bell! let’s go, it’s okay,  toji.” you press to start the car ignition, and ride to taco bell is anything but silent, with megumi talking about the countless items he wanted to get from taco bell, and toji dissuading him from doing so. 
“even if you’re feeling better, why in the world would you want to eat a chicken crispanada? who even told you about that?” toji asks exasperatedly. 
it’s probably yuji, he’s always eating something weird.
“yuji told me about it.” megumi says without missing a beat, causing you to smile. by the time you pull up to the taco bell drive-thru, toji has talked down megumi to reduce his never ending list of taco bell items, but not by a lot (“he’s a growing boy!” you told toji). 
toji does the honors of remembering everyone’s orders and responding to the cashier when he asks what the order is. “yeah, uh, hi, can we get 5 crunchy tacos, 1 mexican pizza, 1 chicken crispinada…”
“CINNABON DELIGHTS!” megumi interrupts from the backseat. 
“yeah, uh, the 12 pack cinnabon delights…” toji looks over at you to get your order. you whisper to him you want a crunchwrap supreme and he frowns when that’s the only thing you want. “you gotta have something else, pumpkin…” he encourages. you know you probably should, but there’s no way you can eat as much as him and megumi, which makes you hesitate. 
“i just don’t think i can finish another thing by myself…” you say quickly, knowing the cashier might be getting annoyed at how long it’s taking for you guys to order, but toji doesn’t seem to care. 
“we can split some nachos, yeah?” toji squeezes your thigh reassuringly, and you smile and nod. 
“yeah, and maybe a nacho bell grande? that’s all for us.” the cashier sounds bored and he tells you guys the total and asks you to pull to the front. in the front window, the bored cashier’s expression immediately changes when he looks at you…wait. not you. 
the cashier immediately straightens up and adjusts his shirt. he looks almost nervous as he reads out loud the order you guys have, but stutters every time he looks up and makes eye contact with…toji. he stutters out the total, and toji smirks at him while he takes out his wallet and pulls out his card, passing it to you to pass to the cashier. the cashier hesitates to run his card, and it looks like he’s deep in thought before he starts to speak, this time more confidently. 
“um, actually, sir, we’re having a new promotion if you’re interested…”
toji hums in response. “and what’s that?” he asks it so sensually that you have to do a flabbergasted double take between the two of them. is this what you think it is?
“you see, the meal’s on the house…in exchange for your number.” the cashier coyly returns a smile to toji, not breaking eye contact with him, and as a result, totally ignoring you and megumi in the car. you sneak a glance behind you at megumi and you’re surprised to see him looking completely bored and unamused by what’s happening. 
“gimme a pen and the receipt and you got it, sugar.” toji’s response is a bit too quick for your liking, but you’re still in shock as a quickly jots down his digits before handing the receipt back to the cashier and pocketing his card. the cashier winks at him as you drive up to the second window for your food and toji looks completely unphased by what just transpired. you turn to look at him incredulously, with wide confused eyes and your dropped. 
“what…was that?!”
“jealous? don’t worry about it, pumpkin. not the first time someone’s asked me  my number for a free meal.” he chuckles, still nonplussed about the entire interaction. 
you shake your head, baffled. “w-what? so you’re telling me multiple are just? into you like this? also i’m not jealous!”
toji shrugs and grins. “guess so. i mostly care about the free meal, and currently, my eyes are for you.” he assures you by squeezing your hands quickly and giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. 
you laugh at how absurd it is. no way he’s flirting with cashiers for a free meal. you make a mental note to tell shoko about it later, even though you know it will just fan the “toji doesn’t have a job” flames even more. “oh my god, you’re a slut! you, like,  just give it up real easy, huh?” you tease, but you make sure to mouth the word “slut” so megumi can’t hear the foul language. 
“you’re one to talk,” toji says, and you both laugh as you get your food and drive home quickly before the food gets cold. 
at toji’s place, toji helps set the dinner table for megumi, while you offer to start on the brownies since you weren’t as hungry. toji sits at the dinner table with megumi, and you both entertain him and his jokes and stories as he eats his dinner hungrily. after a particularly disgusting story about yuji eating a worm on the playground (“this is why you’re getting food poisoning so much, megs!” toji says while you chastise him once again about the dangers of peer pressure), you can feel megumi’s voice get lower as he gets more tired. it makes sense – he had a rough day yesterday, and so he’s more tired today. 
“someone’s sleepyyyy” you sing and lightly tease megumi, as you fill up a cup of water for him. 
“i’m not! i’m very awake and i can watch-” megumi is interrupted by his own yawn which he fails to hide from either of you. “i can watch some tv. i need to watch more euphoria…” he pleads. 
“what is this show you’re watching?” toji questions, looking at megumi quizzically as he starts throwing away trash from megumi’s dinner. your eyes widen and before megumi answers, toji cuts him off. “doesn't matter. no tv for you because your body needs to recover and you need to sleep early tonight.”
megumi pouts so hard that tears begin to brim his eyes. “but this isn’t fair,” he whines. 
toji picks him up with one arm with ease (did his biceps get even bigger?). “tell you what, you go to sleep early, and let me and y/n bake your brownies for you. and i promise you i’ll let you have a brownie for breakfast tomorrow morning.”
you shoot toji a frown. you always try to prep some overnight oats or pancakes or something more balanced for megumi to have in the mornings after you leave, but you know toji has to lose some battles to win some to avoid a crying temper tantrum tonight. toji shrugs as he looks at you and throws the remaining trash away, as megumi immediately cheers up hearing about his impending brownie breakfast. 
toji turns to you. “gonna put him to bed, be right back, pumpkin.” he gives you a quick wink which sets your heart ablaze, thinking about what the rest of the night will hold. your dinner is probably cold but you don’t care as you’re back in the target clothing section, toji’s words sending a chill across your spine and drying your throat. you both haven’t gotten alone time since then, and, as much as you hate to admit it, you feel yourself getting wet through your panties. 
you take a seat after setting out  the ingredients for the brownies on the granite counter, and have to cross your legs to prevent your thoughts from getting too dirty too fast…
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smolvenger · 17 days
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In A World of Boys, He's a Gentleman (Professor! Tom Hiddleston x Reader blurb)
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Summary: Collapsing into tears after a hellish week, your professor boyfriend confesses he loves you.
Warnings: cursing, some work problems (I may have used some of my irl experiences in here, oops) Reader liking Romantasy books, but other than that, some hurt/comfort and lots of fluff!
A/N: I decided to leave it ambiguous if Reader is a student or not, so that is personally up to you. From @holdmytesseract's request for the birthday blurbs! Thanks for your patience!
Word Count: >2K
A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad
Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr
If the past week was purgatory, then today was utter hell.
Everything in your life was driving you so busy, you felt both stasis and panic at once. You got so distracted that you would zone out on your phone closing and reopening the same apps for hours. Then at work, people were driving you up a wall. Because you were a good employee who had to get things done in the order and way they trained you or else…less got done. The impossibility of productivity crept on you. Minutes became hours. You had to argue with someone in a conversation that should have been four minutes but lasted eight because she would not shut up, kept repeating the same things over and over, would rarely let you speak and when you did, never replied or added onto your responses. On top of that, your body decided that the buttcrack dawn of morning when it was still dark was a good time to be awake. And impossible to drift back to sleep even when you took cold medicine. Which then made you exhausted at work.
Thank god for your professor boyfriend.
He was your light in the midst of all this. You had dated for some time, and even the sight of him putting on glasses in a nice suit as he headed off ofr work still made you tingly inside. He would leave you little gifts at your place- flower bouquets, cupcakes, and the like. You were at a point where you didn’t have to have romantic dates all the time. You were now just in his place. Just hanging out. Simple as that. 
You could be quiet and not interact every second. As cats parallel played you could just be in comfortable silence together. Especially when it came reading- for you had something of a silent book club. You both turned off your phones and would sit devouring book after book. 
He was a Literature professor, so it was in his nature. It seemed though sometimes he was never off the clock!  He even challenged you- it was one thing that drew you to daring him. He was smart enough- he respected you as an intelligent being in your own right but was able to have questions and discussions. It was the academia in him. It made you grow into wanting to be a better person for him…and he for you.
Though today, your stress, anxiety, and semi insomnia was creeping up on you. You sat on the brown chair and he on his sofa. There was the same book in your hands. He was already rubbing a finger over his lips, pressing his glasses close. Enchanted by the spell words made. It was a well-reviewed piece of literature that won awards and was featured on the official lists of esteemed journals. He recommended this title to you and you were both reading it. 
As you sat with your own copy that he leant you, you cracked open the stiff spine from it’s newness and began to read…
You were spacing out on the first chapter. It was dense, poetic, and beautiful….but you had no idea what the heck was going on.
After a few more pages, it was starting to get sad.
What was it with these books? And it was not cheery- Was high literature just sad things happening like people having affairs on their wives or committing abuse or doing drugs or going to war or just being awful with no repercussions?
With a sigh, you reached into your bag and pulled out a different book- an escapist, spicy romantasy that all the girls on social media were losing their minds over. You replaced the high literature book, setting it down quietly, and opened it. Tom was so engrossed in the book he didn’t notice. You didn’t want him to notice.
You found this time you were understanding the words in front of you. And you found yourself drawn. Was it the best piece of literature to be studied in a professors class in the future? Hell no. But you were here for a good time, not a long time. And not to study human nature deeply, but to be in a different world, where you had a different name, a different look, and different problems, but far more magical and exciting than everything crashing down in your dull, grey reality. One where your clothes were beautiful with corsets and fine fabric instead of just jeans. One where you would have a sword with a name then a smartphone that sucked all of your free time. One where you could be a princess, a queen, an assassin, a fae lady, a vampire, a pirate, a goddess, a duchess… anything other than plain old you in a plain old life at a plain old job.
Tom looked up. He then eyed over your cover and back at you.
You looked up at him and grimaced. Then you shoved the book back into your bag.
“Please! Don’t judge me!” you cried.
“Why would I judge you?” he asked.
You gestured over to the book in his hands.
“I’m reading this silly trash book and you have all of your fine literature!” you cried.
He set his own copy down, but his blue eyes softened.
“My dear…Is something up?” he asked.
He knew you well enough he could tell the signs.
“Yes, my day was hell! It was this and this and this and…I try to handle it but..I’m overwhelmed so I can’t…I really can’t…I’m not even smart enough to read this book, because I try and try but I just can’t understand this stuff and I can’t get into it, like you…I’m an idiot…”
You burst into tears, and he came over, hugging and kissing your head in little pecks. 
“No…darling, no…” he murmured.
You leaned into his arms. You found yourself vneting and complaining the suffering long inside you.
“I know…I’m a mess…” you sobbed out. “And there was a lady at work who’s a bitch, and my job is so hard, and I can’t sleep at night…it’s just…I wish I could be smarter, nicer, better for you Tom, but…”
“How do you take tea?” he asked.
Looking up, you wiped your tears with your sleeve and answered him.
He made it for you the way you liked. It was the prettiest mug- white with bluebell flowers painted on it.  And returned with it. You sipped at it, it was perfect in it’s flavor and so warm, you felt it melt inside you. You placed both hands around it- science said it was like receiving a hug. Feeling the warmth inside and outside as you looked up at him. 
He scooted himself to be close, a gentle smile on his face and one of his large, beautiful hands rubbing your forearm in comfort.
“I know I’m a mess.” you said.
“I like you as a mess.”
You began to blink at him.
“No, I…but I’m…I’m trying, but I just…I know I complain and I read trashy books and I call people bitches and all that, you can say it, Tom. It’s the truth,” you replied.
“Set your drink down,” he requested.
You complied.
He cupped your face. A gasp aired itself in your throat. 
“My dear, you are perfect as you are. A mess, broken, crying…and I want nothing else than to be with you.” he confessed.
You nearly dropped your jaw.
“That’s…a…you’re saying that…”
“Well…I…yes, I never thought I’d run into someone like you, who’d change everything. Why should I care if you feel upset sometimes like every human being  or what you read to make you happy or that things aren’t always wonderful…I…I love you….there, I said it.”
Love. The little word that changed everything. And it was the first time he said it. It was…unspoken. Something you both felt for the long months you dated, but never confirmed. And here it was, materialized and as present as the furniture and mugs and books, for it was just as real.
“I love you too, Tom.”
You embraced him tight, and he embraced back. He then pressed his forehead to yours, squeezing hands.
He then let go, looking down at your mug.
“Here…your tea will get cold…” he said, offering the drink back to you.
“And…my book….” you murmured.
“Oh, I have no problems with you reading it with me! If it’s that good, I’ll make you another cup of tea and get us some biscuits as well! Then you must tell me all about it!” He gave a little laugh. “Who knows, I may even try it myself someday!”
Smiling with him, you gave him a kiss on his cheek. Then, you settled into cuddling him, sipping your tea and enjoying both of your books in a moment of pure bliss.
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pearlprincess02 · 2 months
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aries sun, gemini moon, sagittarius rising, aries mercury, taurus venus, gemini mars
aries sun: you’re the embodiment of ambition, that glorious spark of motivation. you’re the image of when dawn breaks, that fiery red hue. you’re who i look at during times of desperation, the light of perseverance in a room full of hopelessness. the feeling of full marks after sleepless nights of frustration, my most prized possession, a taste of satisfaction.
gemini moon: a room full of things and hobbies. the best storytellers. light and witty humor. filled journals and sketchbooks. making the atmosphere brighter by just entering the room. having a thousand ideas and being passionate about every single one. soft touches and whispered secrets. i’d spend the rest of my life standing here talking.
sagittarius rising: sagittarius rising curvy body shape. sagittarius rising probably have a nice butt and thick thighs. they tend to have a pear shaped body. also i have seem these people have nice teeth too. and their smile is gorgeous. they may also have crooked teeth and watery big eyes. i have noticed these people can gain weight easily but that's just what i have seen. could be wrong too. these people can have eye issues too. they tend to have a v shaped jaw. oh but sagittarius rising have a nice ass is not joke.
aries mercury: direct, candid and uncomplicated way of thinking and communicating. very opinionated and doesn't mind or can even enjoy argumentative and aggressive ways of talking and expressing thoughts. thoughts progress quickly and they do best in fast paced conversations and thinking on their feet. they don't stay too focused on the same thing for long. they are tactless but rarely dull (enthusiastic).
taurus venus: irresistible charm or look, low-key seductive, enduring and magnetic, slow burn, dream weddings or dates, romantic touch, comforting and content, careful with hearts.
gemini mars: lightning-fast energy but airy to be around, wins you over with humor, takes pride in his intellect, upbeat and always around a crowd or working one, bewitches with ease and passion.
(@pearlprincess02)
ᵒᵇˢᵉʳᵛᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ
about me:
[ basic info ] → ꕥ black 🇹🇹 ꕥ usa 🇺🇸 ꕥ 19 almost 20 ꕥ infp ꕥ bi ꕥ gryfferin ꕥ
[ major interests & hobbies ] → ꕥ music (i can play the piano) ꕥ astrology ꕥ psychology ꕥ greek mythology ꕥ baking ꕥ swimming ꕥ
[ music stans ] → ꕥ lana del ray ꕥ olivia rodrigo ꕥ billie eilish ꕥ taylor swift ꕥ justin beiber ꕥ harry styles ꕥ halsey ꕥ drake ꕥ lil peep ꕥ the neighbourhood ꕥ chase atlantic ꕥ the weeknd ꕥ joji ꕥ rihanna ꕥ frank ocean ꕥ 5sos ꕥ blackbear ꕥ bts ꕥ
[ movies & shows ] → ꕥ my hero academia ꕥ tokyo revengers ꕥ blue lock ꕥ fairytail ꕥ stranger things ꕥ outer banks ꕥ harry potter series ꕥ twilight series ꕥ hunger games series ꕥ american horror story ꕥ the vampire diaries ꕥ shameless ꕥ pretty little liars ꕥ haikyuu ꕥ euphoria ꕥ it ꕥ you ꕥ the little mermaid ꕥ aladdin ꕥ the princess and the frog ꕥ moana ꕥ buffy the vampire slayer ꕥ percy jackson ꕥ death note ꕥ hunter x hunter ꕥ horimiya ꕥ glee ꕥ
[ dni!!! ] → if.... homophobic, transphobic, racists etc.. ,
main masterlist
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bobfloydsbabe · 2 months
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what if i love you | eccentric professor!bob floyd x oc
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a gold rush fic
SUMMARY: In the early morning hours, Imogen contemplates her relationship with Bob.
WARNINGS: academia au, fluff, angst-ish, power imbalance, age gap (mid 20s/late 30s). strictly 18+/minors dni.
WORD COUNT: 401
GOLD RUSH MASTERLIST
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A/N: I hope you enjoy this quick blurb I wrote for Eccentric Professor Bob and Imogen, where we get a rare insight into her perspective of their relationship. It's a vulnerable but sweet moment for them ✨
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She watches him from the doorway of the ensuite bathroom.
It’s the early morning hours, light just starting to peek through under the curtains. Outside, a furious spring storm rages on, but in here, the sound of his heavy breaths fills the room. She smiles to herself as his chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm.
No one has ever made her feel as alive as he does. He might not say it, but she knows he values her opinion. Yesterday, when she presented yet another dissertation proposal, he fought for her, and she’s convinced it’s the reason they finally approved it. She’d been so angry with him afterwards, terrified everyone would know they’d crossed the line of professionalism–that he was only pushing for the approval because they have an intimate relationship.
She should have known it was a bad idea. That the sex would complicate things, and that getting to know him would change everything. She should have known, but she did it anyway. She still fell into his bed and got lost in his passion.
She crosses the room and climbs back under the comforter. Even in his sleep, Bob reaches for her. He wraps his deceptively muscular arms around her and brings her closer until her face is buried in the crook of his neck.
His lips find their way to the top of her head, and he places a gentle kiss there. “Mornin’,” he mumbles against her hair. 
She doesn’t fight the grin that spreads on her face. “Thought you were sleeping.”
“I was,” he says, voice still thick with sleep. “Then my girl left my bed.”
She cranes her neck upward, eyes locking with his. “Your girl, huh?” He hums and leans down, pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss.
“Wish we could stay here all day,” he mutters.
God, she wishes they could too. Just the two of them in this bed, tucked away from the rest of the world. Hidden away from those who will judge them when they learn the truth. Part of her wants to quit as his TA or remove him from her dissertation committee, so they can be together without fear of repercussions.
It’s a distant and unrealistic dream, but she aches for it. 
“Me too,” she agrees, burying her face in the crook of his neck again and breathes in his scent. Leather and ink. Him.
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likes are nice, but reblogs and comments are golden
TAGLIST: @joaquinwhorres, @kmc1989, @sweetwhispersofchaos, @roosterforme, @millieb-3199, @bobgasm, @attapullman, @bluezraven, @just-in-case-iloveyou, @bradshawsbaby, @bcarolinablr, @seitmai, @sio-ina-bottle, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @hangmandruigandmav, @solo-pitstop-vibes, @cremebruleequeen, @auroraseddie, @rosie-posie08, @cherrycola27, @keyrani
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kinklock · 1 year
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🥀🔪 SPOOKY BOOKS FOR AUTUMN 2022 👻🏚️
hi guys. I really like books right now. have you heard about books? I'd like to talk to you about some spooky books
SPOOKY 
Horror but like LIGHT not too much
Bound Feet - **initially forgot this gem !!** a novella where two women break into a Chinese Garden and Ghost Museum at night !!
Our Wives Under the Sea - this is very literary light on the horror, about a woman’s wife coming back wrong from a Marianas Trench investigation
Weird Horror #3 and #4 - I love this magazine. it has the exact kind of horror story I like, more interested in intriguing you than disturbing you. I've only read 3 and 4 so far but I'm sure they’re all good.   
Goddess of Filth - this is an unique possession tale. A group of Mexican American girls hold a seance that allows a goddess to possess one of them, but their real enemy... CATHOLICISM
My Heart is a Chainsaw - it’s Stephen Graham Jones. you cannot go wrong with SGJ, but this is the most for tumblr of his works. Jade is a very traumatized teen who loves horror movies and life becomes one
Come Closer - this is Possession Horror at its finest, told from the perspective of the woman being possessed 
The Carrow Haunt - a group of paranormal enthusiasts all stay at a haunted house ! somehow gives warm hug found family coffee shop vibes even while bodies are dropping. 
You Should Have Left - apparently now a movie with Kevin Bacon. haven’t seen it, but enjoy this book for the style and execution. screenwriter on a vacation in a house that should have never been built where it has been built...  
What Moves the Dead - a retelling of the Fall of the House of Usher with a nb protagonist, very gothic without being too scary 
A Head Full of Ghosts - a possession story where a family welcomes a reality tv crew into their home to film their possessed daughter
A Dowry of Blood - give it up for a book entirely about Dracula’s polycule aka his wives and husband. horror in the sense of domestic abuse. 
Hide and Seeker - I will add a middle grade horror book bc I want to support the kids getting their horror. this one gives creepy rhymes and child abduction 
Miss Dark Academia
Catherine House - so you want DARK dark academia? look no further. this is nihilistic and brimming with dread. not for lovers of plot
BUNNY - Welcome to the Smut Salon. is this horror? you decide. the first third of this book is incredible and the rest of it . I have no idea 
The Atlas Six - this is if you want dark academic magic grad school. I can’t decide if this is a Recommendation exactly, but I was entertained the whole time 
Hot weather halloween-y tales (for those of you in warm climates who still want to get spooky)
The Ballad of Perilous Graves - urban fantasy sent in New Orleans where music is magic, you got paintbodies (ppl getting high on graffiti), cemeteries, haints, sky trolleys, children tasked with finding the nine magic songs that keep Nola alive, and a trans man POV character going through it. it gives kids halloween. 
okay so I recently read The Daughter of Doctor Moreau, perfect if you want gothic jungle drama scifi and can handle some heterosexual nonsense. I loved the cenote and the hybrids, but I still think the best book from this author is yes Mexican Gothic
HORROR horror like. horror
Tell Me I’m Worthless - the haunted house IS fascism in the UK. the protagonists are a trans woman and a terf. showstopping. incredible. I enjoyed the whole thing. SO many trigger warnings. 
The Silent Companions - historical fiction where wooden cutout props of people are pretty scary, this book somehow managed to accomplish jump scares
Your Body is Not Your Body - an anthology of weird body horror, proceeds go to trans youth in Texas. very literary and bite-sized. 
We Are Here To Hurt Each Other - if you’re excited for new Hellraiser, and like gooey and gory, give this collection a try.
Helpmeet - returning to an abandoned orchard in 1900s New York might make you think oh a simple gothic tale? No. Nothing will prepare you
The Last House on Needless Street - it’s best to go into this book knowing nothing. all I can say is it is a truly wild time
HOT OFF THE PRESS aka new books I can’t wait to get my paws on
House of Hunger - we've got gothic manor house we've got blood maids look at that cover I also hear it’s maybe lesbionic ? 
Leech - gothic science fiction, something weird and queer happening in an isolated chateau. say no more.
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hiraya-rawr · 2 years
Text
Loyalties 03
( Diluc x Fatui Reader ) Mini Series
synopsis !! trapped to be interrogated for distributing delusions, you find yourself torn between loyalty to the Fatui and love for Diluc.
note !! this was a rather difficult chapter to write during my personal break maybe because I couldn't find myself properly setting the mood; anywaay here we go!
contains !! gn reader, implied torture, dark themes, hurt/comfort, alcohol consumption, manipulation
ch.01 || ch.02 || ch.03 || ch.04
— Favonius Cathedral, City of Mondstadt
"Normally, I wouldn't question your methods, but this was quite the save, wasn't it, sir Kaeya?"
Sweet and light sounding, Lisa greets the Cavalry Captain the minute he stepped out of the looming Cathedral doors, with one manicured hand stretched out to him. "I was just about ready to doubt you when the seizures started. Just how did you find out that the children would be fine?"
Kaeya smiles back, offering his arm out for her to hold as they walk down the Cathedral steps.
Of course he's caught her attention. The prodigy and most distinguished graduate of Sumeru Academia was unable to find a cure; yet, a mere Cavalry Captain ordered a risky 'hypothesis' that not only saved lives, but also opened new doors to investigating Delusions and their side effects
He could answer the question but that would warrant too much of an explanation— with information he had no right to divulge (as of now, he promises, because Kaeya Alberich does not hold back on betrayal).
"I'm surprised to see you out and about, Miss Lisa. Do you have business in the Cathedral?"
He's deflecting the question. Lisa is completely aware of it, yet she continues to smile. Alright then, there are more important matters for now, she thinks.
"As a matter of fact, I was searching for my sweet, little Razor. I thought he would be here with that boy. . . Bennett, was it?"
"Perhaps you're better off visiting the Adventures' Guild for them." Kaeya suggests.
"I thought so as well, but I've heard of Bennett's um– apparent propensity for misfortune. I was worried that," Her voice softens, "With the Fatui offering out Delusions to children, the two might have stumbled into some trouble."
Kaeya nods as Lisa releases her hold on his arm. The librarian had only been worried. "I see. . . Unfortunately, I haven't a clue as to where Bennett or Razor could be. Outrider Amber might know."
"I suppose I'll check with her. . . Are you heading to the Headquarters as well, sir Kaeya?"
He shakes his head, "No, I'm off duty as of now so I figured I'll have a drink or two in Angel's Share."
That's an excuse. He needs to check if the Darknight Hero successfully ended the delusion trade (definitely not to check on his brother's mental state, right?).
Lisa lights up, "Ah! If you meet (Name) there, would you mind asking them about Razor as well? We often have tea together, they might have an idea where he is– or perhaps they've been with Razor all along. That boy does so admire them."
Had it not been for Kaeya's proficiency in keeping a mask, he would have flinched at the mention of your name. It hasn't even been two days since you were taken, and news in Mondstadt spreads slow. He wonders what Lisa -or Razor- would think if they knew what he did. That you're strapped to a chair in a private yet isolated Ragnvindr property. Would they be horrified? For you or against you? What would they think of him?
Not that it matters. Kaeya Alberich cares little for those who hurt his family.
Heh, he truly is no better than the Fatui.
"I'll inform you if I find the kids. Don't worry so much— for all we know, the Darknight Hero might've handled it already." Kaeya grins, waving Lisa away as he heads downtown.
— Angel's Share, City of Mondstadt
The tavern was as lively as always; perhaps a little too lively tonight with almost twice as many patrons crowding the first floor. Kaeya was quick to find out why from a stray knight.
"Master Diluc has blocked the entire second floor. As for why he did it. . . Who knows? Perhaps he's expecting some important guests. He didn't say."
Ignoring the "Do Not Enter" sign hanging from a chain on the staircase, Kaeya leaps over it with ease and climbs the stairs. He isn't sure what to expect; did Diluc perhaps invited suspects of the Delusion trade? Did a high-ranking Fatui offer a deal or a contract that needed further discussion? Whatever it is, Kaeya will be sure to assist his big brother the vigilante no matter what the situation.
What he didn't expect was to see Diluc collapsed on a corner table, a glass of wine in hand and several bottles surrounding him. Kaeya's jaw laxes at the sight.
What. The. F*ck.
Upon closer inspection, Kaeya notices the littered bottles were full. Every single one save for the opened fire whiskey on the table.
"Snezhnayan alcohol? Really? And here I thought you'd despise anything from that place." He sighs, settling himself across from the man whose face was buried between his arms on the table. "So you barred everyone from half the tavern space just so you could get wasted in peace?"
Kaeya's tone is light, if not teasing, but there's an undertone of distaste at the wine tycoon's actions.
How could Diluc allow someone to affect him this much? You'd think the redhead would've learned his lesson about betrayal before you came along.
"Are you even conscious?" Kaeya reaches out to poke Diluc's scalp, earning a groan. The cryo user rubs a hand over his face, honestly, this was so unnecessary.
"Here I was worrying about how the delusion trade. To think you went ahead and started drinking. Didn't you think I would like that as well? If not more than you?" He rambles, eyeing the fluff of red hair on the table. There's a muffled sound escaping it.
". . -urts. . . "
"Pardon?"
Diluc finally looks up from his folded arms, red eyes on Kaeya's own. It's redder than usual, outlining his eyes. Had he been crying?
The expression on his older brother's face. . . it's heartbreaking.
"I didn't think it would hurt this much, Kae," Diluc whimpers.
It's a sound that seems so soft and vulnerable, like he was nine years old again, crying good bye to a hollowed turtle shell as Kaeya held the lampgrass flowers. It only made the cavalry captain churn in contempt. How could you do this to Diluc?
Kaeya selfishly wonders if he's a little lower on Diluc's hate list now.
He also wonders if he went too easy on you.
Kaeya, unable to confront Diluc's hurt, decides to change the subject. ". . . Lisa is looking for (Name). It's only a matter of time before she gets suspicious. I suggest we make a report to Jean before word gets out of their disappearance."
"Like. . . admit it?" Diluc looks on desperately. Kaeya doesn't recognize the emotion.
"Admit what?"
"That they're Fatui? Admit that to Jean?"
Kaeya raises an eyebrow, "Yes?" his visible eye then narrows, "Don't tell me you plan to keep this under wraps? You're— you're protecting them?"
Diluc clenches his jaw.
"No."
Then,
"It's not that. It's not the time—" Diluc sighs, sitting straight before alcohol sways him, his stance losing balance while sitting. "Don't report to Jean."
"Diluc." Kaeya tsked.
"Kae."
". . . Fine. Not yet." Kaeya stands up, swiping a full bottle from the table to settle under his arm. "But eventually. And if you won't do it, I will." He turns to leave before a voice calls out to him again.
Kaeya faces Diluc, whose eyes are anywhere but on him.
"You said. . . you think I'd despise everything from Snezh." Diluc starts slowly, "I don't." He says, then in a quieter voice, "I can't. Can't despise everything from that place."
Kaeya frowns before turning on his heel, leaving the redhead alone.
The rim of a glass bottle settles on your lips and you mouth it willingly. Instead of alcohol like you'd expect, it's water. Almost warm to drink.
You blink. Eyes trailing up the gloved hand to see a redhead looking down on you. Diluc's expressionless face looks back but doesn't make eye contact.
"I'm. . ." You mumble, everything about this feels strange. It feels like warmth, it feels comforting, "I'm still in the basement, aren't I? Still strapped to that chair?"
Diluc nods.
Thunder roars outside. Whether you're too worn out to or too out of it to acknowledge the fear, you don't flinch at the sound.
"Kaeya is drafting a report on you. You'll be branded as a spy to Mond publicly. You wouldn't be allowed back again." He says nonchalantly. You remain silent.
You'll be a Persona Non Grata to Mondstadt. Unwelcomed in the Nation of Freedom.
A bowl of onion soup is pushed in front of you. You realize he's trying to feed you.
"You'll need to eat. It'll be a while before Jean gets the report. While waiting, we still have questions for you." He sounds impassive, almost cold. You allow yourself to nod as a spoonful is raised towards you.
Another rumble of thunder shakes the room. It must be a basement, judging by the way the walls shake.
Diluc places the bowl aside and walks away. He climbs the stairs and he shuts the door close. You realize he left it open when he entered.
He returns to yoyr side and thunder rumbles again, much quieter this time by the closed door.
Does he remember? Does he care? You don't dare ask.
In the quiet of the room and his spoonfuls of soup, he mutters;
"What is your mission?"
Before quickly replacing the interrogative question.
"Why me?"
Yes, why him? Infiltrate Mond and be the backbone of the Delusion trade was the mission. You played the role of an insider, bonding with merchants and understanding the innermost trade routes of the nation. It just so happens that alcohol circulated the most, making it easier to understand the market flow.
It didn't need to be him, yet you found yourself needing him.
"It didn't have to be you." You mutter in truth.
"But it was me. Why?" He asks again, sitting straighter now, "(Name), I want to try and understand—" why did you love?
You don't understand the question. To you, it was simple. You had a job to do and you met someone great while doing it. Betrayal was secondary to things like the Tsaritsa's will or love. Surely, Diluc would understand?
But Diluc came from the land of freedom. He doesn't bend to the will of Barbatos who racks up a tab in his own tavern. He doesn't take well to betrayal, not after what the knights did (what Kaeya did, what the Ordo did).
Diluc does not understand that.
When you don't reply, he settles for another question. Because he's learnt that questions are better than drawing your blade first (he should have done the same for his little brother. He knows better now.)
"Was anything true?"
Did you love him? was the question on his tongue but too afraid to say.
You bite your lip.
"If there's anything. . . anything you have to believe about me," You say slowly, carefully, "It's my feelings for you."
His eyes meet yours as you continue.
"But there are forces much bigger than us in this world, Diluc."
A flash of hurt crosses his face before it settles into something unreadable. The rest of the soup is eaten quietly.
"I really don't think we should be here."
"Shhh. Smells. Blood."
You stir, hearing footsteps on creaky wood and two boyish voices. One whiny, the other alert.
"That's even more of a reason! W-what if there's. . . ghosts?"
"Razor will protect friend Bennett."
"Why don't we just leave?"
"Shhh!"
They're closer now, the first step on the staircase. You snap awake, looking around the room to see Diluc and Kaeya gone. How long were you passed out?
"Person. Blood." Razor's voice points out from the stairs and you know he sees you. Bennett all but shrieks—
"G-ghost! Let's get out of here, Raz—"
"(Name)?" Razor tilts his head, recognizing your smell.
"What?" Bennett blinks.
"(Name)!" The wolf boy rushes down the stairs and you hold your breath. They don't know, do they? Did Kaeya pass the report to Jean? Has it been announced yet?
Judging by their frantic concern, you suppose not.
"B-bennett? Razor?" You exhale, glad to have had something to eat prior otherwise you wouldn't have had the strength to talk.
"Mx. (Name)!" Bennett rushes up to you, hands going over the restraints on your limbs. He doesn't hesitate to figure out how to remove them. Razor whimpers at the sight of you.
"(Name). Hurt?"
"Why— Who did this to you?" Bennett summons the power of pyro, the chain breaking under its pressure. It's impressive how someone so unlucky controls his flames.
"I'm alright," You reassure them and try to mean it, racking your brain for a logical excuse, "The Fatui might come back. We have to go." Finally freeing your wrists and massaging them. The skin around it is raw and painful.
A smaller version of Bennett's burst appears on the ground of your feet. Energy courses through you and you feel the skin healing, along with your fatigue and other wounds. You sigh in relief.
"Those bad guys! We have to report this to the knights!" Bennett says quickly, "They're not gonna get away with this!"
"Miss Lisa help. Knights help!" Razor nods as quickly, helping you up on wobbling legs. They don't notice your silence as you climb the stairs and exit the building to Wolvendom. The basement must be part of the Dawn Winery's storehouse.
The sun is setting, you guess you're approaching your third day of capture.
"How were you captured? What did they do to you? What about Master Diluc–?" Bennett rambles on.
"Why capture..?" Razor mutters from behind you, softer. You know he's more curious than suspicious. He wouldn't assume anything bad of you.
You think of your position. You don't know if you've been ousted, you aren't sure where to go from Mond— what you do know is there's a Fatui outpost by Springvale functioning under legal jurisdiction.
You look at the boys. Bennett continues to ramble how this shouldn't have happened and turning to the adults, while Razor growls about protecting those he care about.
You think of your mission.
Distributing delusions for the Tsaritsa.
Teenagers asking for power.
Ambition.
"Bennett, Razor, would you two come with me?"
•••
note !! I understand that I ended this with a pretty big plot diversion, but don't worry! the fic still focuses on diluc and reader's relationship :) next chapter would be the final chapter where everything falls into place!
gen taglist !! @absolut-wildflower @boundedbyfate @sadlonelybagel @eissaaaa @ladycoleigh @nejibot @milkypompon @bloodreaper08 @irethepotato @x-zho @roriver @mich-cola @mxsomn @ackrylik @nicebonescomrade @starforecasts @stygianoir @yuminako @eccedentesiast-sapphic @nebulaera @nuttytani @klutzkat @shizunxie
loyalties taglist !! @escapeis @leftdestiny-posts @manjimeowmeow @sup-zfam @hangezoessidehoe @liyacreate @sheepispink @juminsamore @shadowfireblue @radnvindr @ashjustlikesthings @yengre @ashgayasfuzz @chiisananingen @lavynne @senjusbuddy @i-x4o @shuriiiewrites @mizu-san @kitrinafalcon @rekikyansimp @probably-rk @theonlysol @vnsmiles @reisinnie @aomur @annoying-and-upset @evapori @mostydreamscape @mariinggg
character analysis / notes !! im so glad to know kaeya and diluc's canon relationship seems to fit in here. after studying their characters again, i feel like kaeya would be more law abiding in scenarios like this, wanting to be transparent with jean and the others, whereas diluc wouldve kept things to himself.
also!! diluc wouldve definitely learned his lesson about attacking first before talking it out :< i just think hed make more of an effort to understand people, the fact that you're fatui just makes it a little more difficult but he did/does love you, he wants to try dhhshxhs
if you read the last chapter, youd see i hinted that "youd have to be real lucky to escape" xp which is ironic bc bennett.
childe and venti would be in the next chapter :> finalized the outline for it and hoping i could get it out soon. it'll be a little difficult to write the conclusion but i hope it satisfies!
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rkivepetals · 2 months
Text
The secret history
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chapter sixteen.
Series master list
Main master list
This is how I died.
Jungkook X fem!reader ft.all bts members
Genre: dark/gothic academia, slow romance, forced marriage, mystery, thriller (??) found family and Greek mythology.
Wc: 3.6k
Mentions of death, monsters, Jungkook is trauma dumping, blood, wine, forgotten girlhood
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"Your mother is a monster," I whispered as he sighed, lips slightly curving. "Took you long enough." I quietly gasped, "It's all making sense." I say, "the quote in the manuscript, your mother being constantly sick. It's all making sense." He exhaled and grabbed my wrist, pulling me, "I thought this was a bathroom." I say as Jungkook shakes his head, "It's not a bathroom."
He sighs, it was a dark room where we ended up. Small candles lit in the corner, on the verge of melting down into nothing. "I drew that monster because I saw her multiple times, it has a different kind of chokehold. Because it was my mother." He says as he leads me further, lighting a candle-lit lamp, offering me to sit on a very old chair as he sits on the dirty ground, back stuck to the wall.
"I never knew the mansion had such an ugly part to it." He chuckled, completely sober, both of us. "When did you start to...doubt?" He hesitantly asked, "I once doubted her when she had a...weird feeling to her. She was just the same but, she had a really weird posture, made faces, shaking but not in front of me." I looked at him, "I saw her doing all these from my glasses, behind my back. Around a few days ago? A month? I can't recall."
He nods, "and then she started falling sick, you never had a bit of a doubt?" I sighed, "I doubted your father but then I was proven wrong in the basement when the monster attacked me, so my whole doubt was on you." He sighed, "Let's begin from the start, because, you deserved to know everything from the beginning." I anxiously rubbed my palms, unsettled as he inhaled the fine dust before he started speaking.
"I was nine years old, I heard growling voices at night from the other room. I told my father, and the servants, but no one believed me. Or more like, they wanted me to not believe what I heard every night. A few days later, my mother lurched on me, in her monstrous shape, claws out, stinking blood. She almost killed me if it wasn't for our worker to come between us and get eaten alive by her."
He sighs, as If not capable enough for this. "I saw a monster eat a human alive right in front of me. And I had no idea it was my mother. I stopped eating, stopping going to school. Sat in my bathroom, doors closed and cried every night in fear if I get eaten alive tomorrow. My mother was not allowed near me after that, I had no idea where my father was.
I took it on me and jumped from the art room balcony." I shivered, not because it was cold in the secretive room, but because Jungkook had never been this vulnerable. A part of me is wretched, he dealt with monsters, in coming-of-age London City, at the age of nine. While I was out there learning to crochet, playing with my father, he was finding a way to end his fears and anxiety in the worst way possible.
And another part of me is warm, cosied, wrapped in a bandage of fur. He trusts me enough to let me know this. "I barely survived," he scratches his head, looking at me finally. "I have almost died. My father sent me to China when I was like ten or something. I can't even remember, I stayed in China for a long time of my life.
I learnt to fight, healed my inner child or just my child and came back to London when I was almost nineteen. My mother was fine, she hugged me tight, cried, but..." he exhaled, I noticed the overwhelming gloss in his moon-shone eyes, "it was not the same. I lived with my parents ever since, and eventually found out the reason for my trauma was my mother on her full moon days when she lurches around to hunt."
I sighed, a sting in my chest, "she hunts?" I softly asked,
he nods, "she does."
He inhaled again, "My father started cheating on my mother, and had a random woman miscarriage his child, all while I was still finding my purpose in life. I thought everything would be fine once I came back home, but turns out, it was fucking disgusting on an even worse level." I sigh, "If there was anyone who needed these ten years of therapy, it was your parents, not you."
He chuckled, "Maybe." I nod, "Hmm." He slightly cleared his throat, "My father got me to Oxford, I had a course in finance, business and philosophy. But I just learnt finance, business and philosophy were just certificates. It was good, I lived in the city when I was in Oxford, away from my parents. I made good friends, even had relationships and that's how I met Kira.
She still does not have any idea about my past. I'm Just a rich guy with emotions for her." My lips slightly curve, "but god has his ways, I swear. I ended up back here again, dealing with days of her full moons, and had a job in the tax department 'cause of my father, I couldn't see Kira except at weekends. And then I got married to you."
I sigh, "Why didn't you tell me earlier about your mother? I was blaming you and I might've even killed you." He shifts his body on the ground, looking at me. "How would I? Remember how I fell stunned when we first went inside that basement?" I tried to recall as I slowly nodded, "because that creature looked exactly like my mother. And I had no idea what was that. I had gone completely blank."
I gulped, throat dry. "So your mother...?" I question,
"There are two monsters in this mansion, y/n. The one tied in the basement, and the one hunting around."
I exhaled, stomach churning. "So that's why you were in the basement that Rainy night? To check?"
He nods, "It was one of those days for her, and I wanted to know if they're the same or if it's only one. And unluckily, you came there too. Out of the blue, and you thought, I am the monster."
I nod, "that's exactly what I thought."
My bones still freeze, what if I had killed him? "I don't think my mother is just trying to hunt you down." "I know! The quote from the manuscript? It matches the same situation as your mother. She looks like the same monster tied in the basement. It's all connected to gods. and if she wanted to kill me, she could've done that multiple times, but she didn't, so she hurt me and killed my family; my mother."
He nods, "it's not just about killing and eating, it's much more than that." I sighed, "Maybe she wants to show me something? Or some force is preventing her from killing me?" "You faint and bleed a lot too, it's not normal to just randomly cry and bleed through your mouth and nose." I rubbed my arms, "I have a blank full stop now. I can't think. I don't know what to come up with, there's just too many recourses."
He got up from the ground, checking the time on his phone, "for now, I think we should sleep. It's almost four a.m, let's go." I stared at his inviting palm toward me, I took it and got up, shivering from time to time. "I will show you around here tomorrow." I nod, still holding his Palm as we fade into darkness, together.
My friends frowned at me, "what are you saying?" Namjoon asked, brows furrowed, suspicion in eyes. "I'm not lying." "I know, but what if he's lying?" Jimin said, I blinked, "What do you mean?" He sighs, "he says and you believe? What if he's just trying to distract you? Have you ever thought about that, y/n?" I bit my lips and turned my face the other way, watching Jungkook buy all of us coffee.
"I don't think so."
"Really?" Yoongi asked as I looked at him.
"Really."
Jimin rolled his eyes, nose flaring as Jin cleared his throat. "Do you trust him y/n?" I licked my lips, staring at my fingernails on the wooden table. I slowly nod, "then we trust you." Hoseok said as I glanced up at him. Taehyung scouted his chair closer, "But, did you ask him how even all of this happened? He just randomly pulls you into a bathroom and tells you his mother is a creature?" "Exactly!"
Jimin snaps his fingers at Tae's words. "N-no.. I mean." I was contemplating if I should tell them all. But I didn't want to hurt jungkook's feelings or make him lose his trust in me, because, at the end of the day, my friends are indeed snoopy. They will talk about his childhood either today or tomorrow. So I lied.
But I had not a single clue that this would be the worst decision I've made. "He didn't tell me. He said he's only revealing the truth because he doesn't want me to kill him." Namjoon shook his head with a tired sigh, "Don't lie to us." Yoongi said, nonchalantly. I shrug, "Why would I lie to you? I am nothing without you all." I hated how easily yoongi could see right through me.
"I trust you," Hoseok said and lit a cigarette. Eventually, everyone trusted me, "c'mon, say it already." Tae and jimin goofed around as Jungkook smiled at my friends and gave us our respective coffees. "Thank you, jeon." Namjoon gave him a kind smile as he smiled back in equal measure of gratitude. "No problem. You're all like my friends too."
"Get off me, Taehyung!" Jimin sulked, in his sheer white shirt and black jeans, I rolled my eyes and got up from my chair, standing in front of him. "You seriously don't trust me?" He looked at me, scowl flattening as he exhaled through his chest and wrapped his arms around me. Catching me off guard.
I sighed and hugged him back, "I trust you but I don't trust him." He whispers as I hum, "he does not even matter." He does. "You're right. All I want is your safety." Jimin's hands rubbed my back. In a way I didn't quite prefer, my breath hitches when I felt something trigger my brain. Suddenly jimin is pulled away from me with a force not intentional.
I looked at Jungkook, blank face, staring right through jimin. "What are you doing, fucktard?" Jimin hisses, "Hey, jimin." I placed my left hand on his chest to calm him down, the right one was in Jungkook's grip. "Watch your mouth." Jungkook blinks twice, "and hands." I scoff and look at Jungkook, "Are you crazy, Jungkook? What are you doing?!"
I glared into his eyes, they slightly melted as he left my wrist and walked out of the small dusty area we fixed to meet earlier too. "See? I don't fucking trust him! Especially when you've been—" "jimin!" Yoongi raised his voice as he stood up. Jimin clenched his jaw, "y'all are fucking in love with him. And that's what he wants, he's distracting you all so that you lose your fucking focus! And I will not be his pawn in this game, fuck y'all." He says and picks up his guitar, lurching away.
I looked at him as namjoon sighed, "You all need to wind up. Get off each other's shit, go unwind. Get away from each other, you all are not that used to be so in love." Namjoon taunts as he picks up his books and leaves with his tote bag. Jin sighed, "Do you want me to leave you somewhere? I picked up my car today." Jin offered as I shook my head, "No, Jungkook is with me. We'll just go together."
I say as I feel everyone's gaze on me. "Y/n has never denied a seokjin car ride," Hobi says, sipping his coffee as I ignore him and Just walk out. Jungkook stood in a corner in his checkered coat, staring blankly at people. He looked at me as I sigh, before I could speak, he burst out speaking bullshit. "Are you that close with jimin?"
I blinked, slightly frowning, "Why do you care?" His jaw stiffens, "you were uncomfortable." I inhaled, "Why is that even an issue?" The demon inside of me licked the rage of my mind and dropped the drool of my temper. "You couldn't say it." I sighed, the back of my mind hurting. "He did not have ill intentions, you don't know anything about him so don't fucking judge him. You don't even know how close we are."
"Friend or not, if something is making you uncomfortable then say it."
I scoff, "Do you know what's making me uncomfortable right now? You. You knew I was uncomfortable, you knew I couldn't say anything and yet you're still arguing with me over that. And you keep bringing it up again and again."
"Because I care for you! I won't tolerate you being sexually harassed just like that."
"He was not sexually harassing me! Are you crazy? He's just a fucking friend, he soothingly did that. If I get triggered then it's my issue. He never had any ill intentions." People were starting to stare at us, "You have no idea what is it like to be a woman, Jungkook. before I married you I got harassed multiple times by old men in public places. Why weren't you there? Does the protection of women only matter when it's your wife, your mother or your sister?"
"Because you must've fucking labelled it as comfort? Huh? Why don't you justify that in a 'soothing manner' too?"
I sigh, "You know what? We can deal with this later when we have nothing on our fuck ass minds, right now I need to go somewhere important. Goodbye." I fumed as I took big steps full of rage in the opposite direction of where he stood.
I lay flat, the dried trees warned me. They could fall, they could hurt. Make a wound out of me. But In my mind, it's still autumn. The leaves are still falling, turning red, I'm still seventeen, deciding on a major. Learning life, I wear more colourful glasses, yellow shirts and sneakers. I wear lip gloss, I still hate crowds, and I like buying notebooks I won't fill, or makeup too complicated to understand.
The colourful big rings that fall off my fingers, the small butterfly pins in my braided hair, body paint, glitter, pink nail polish, mascara, still hating the sole existence of eyeliner and red lipstick. I sigh, there's no more autumn, it's cold as ever, I fear my soul will freeze in this cold silence and shatter Into pieces I won't ever find myself. The sun is out today, I feel it on my face, soaking its light in as if it could wash off my sins and make me a brand new person.
Maybe there was always something wrong. Maybe I just pretended to like romance books, my heart belonged to dark stories and diaries of criminals. Maybe I overlooked the obsession with funerals, black umbrellas, dark brown coats, fire, burnt-off candles, code words, murder mysteries, shooting, unknown libraries, caves, and disturbing art. Maybe I just wanted to focus on colours and butterflies, because maybe, just maybe I was taught not being girly enough was a crime.
So there might not be a glitch midst my adult and teenage hood. There was nothing wrong that could've turned me into a murderer. Maybe I just preferred it that way, dark, red, ugly, blood on walls. What happens after death, what flowers could harm you, women who seek revenge. All of this is a part of me.
They always were, always been, and might as well will. I just pretended to be not like this, but in fact, I was always like this. I sigh again, skin chipping off my cuticles, red blood creeping as I exhale. "You tell me, mother. How can I kill my mother-in-law? She murdered you, but how can I murder her? Without hurting someone, without getting caught, without being a sinner. Is that possible?"
I whisper to myself, admiring my clean nail paint. I rub my face harshly, "My life is like that abundant corpse. Nor is he from the underworld, nor the outer." I murmur, widening my eyes as much as I could to wake up from this shackling shit of a dream. I gulped, it was almost night. I'm hungry, I haven't eaten a single thing since today.
I'm tired of myself. I curl on the wooden bench, I shiver, it might snow. I should get home. My fingers grip the wood, and I pull myself up, sneezing as I pick up my glasses and wear them. I'm not seventeen anymore, though, I still like brown coats, black umbrellas, funerals, disturbing art, unknown libraries, caves and the preferable monsters inside them too. I still prefer flowers that can harm, women who avenge and the mystery behind death.
I get up, fixing my warm outfit as I pull out a pair of wired earphones I bought a long time ago. I pluck it inside my phone and open it, scrolling through my downloaded music and playing a Tchaikovsky opera. Maybe this way, life isn't that lonely. I will at least have a soundtrack behind me. I notice little to no people in the streets as I push open the door of the first convenience store I could find that offered food.
I buy two flavours of an ice cream, a Premade soup bowl, a cold sandwich and beer. I pay for it, get out of the shiny, eye-straining store and sit on a bench by the sidewalk. I open my soup packet, and my cheeks burn at the warmth as I sip it. Eventually, it snowed. I inhaled the cold breeze that slightly blew my hair even though they were tied in a bun.
I open the sandwich and eat it in the quiet, with no music, no people, and no fancy restaurant. Just the breeze echoing whispers of coming death and my low-quality meal. It was like a highway store, not many people stopped by too. I had a peaceful meal until I decided to drink a bit more and just kept walking. Hoping I'd reach home.
I had run out of money to get a taxi, besides, it was so cold not a single taxi in sight. It felt like an eternity, I almost thought there was no more home for me. I don't belong anywhere, not to my father, my mother or my husband—no one. I shuddered, lips dried and flaky, hands frozen, legs making creaking noises. Spine dealing with shoots of lingering pain due to the temperature.
I finally pushed the steely, cold-as-ice gates of the mansion. I felt like a frozen statue, every step took my uttermost strength. I stumbled, almost fell and decided to lay in the frozen grass but I pushed through. My ankle hurt violently, reminding me of days that might've been the most normal in this new home. I was shaking violently when I was in front of the main door, I was under some warmth of the roof yet my fingers made noises when I pushed the wooden door which surprisingly was already open.
My vision blurred despite wearing glasses as I stared at the stairs that looked like another big mission, maybe I should just lie down in the living room. But again, what if I die? What if I get bitten down? I do not have the energy to die. So I took slow steps, and my heart struck with immense cold pain. "Y/n!"
I clutch the buttons of my coat and glance at where the voice came from. I'm sure I've seen things because there's no way jimin stood ahead of me. His face blurred, and I looked behind him, all of my friends were on the same dark red couch, having the same dark red wine as Jungkook. "So you lied to us."
Jimin grits his teeth, I feel hot liquid strings escape my eyes vigorously. "You lied to us, y/n!" His voice fades into a darkened, shushed whisper as I stumble, he said something but I couldn't understand anything. At once, his voice was too robotic, too fast, too slow. I held my chest, hands shaking as I removed my glasses.
I felt something rise in my throat and escape my mouth. I checked it with my shaky fingers, a familiar sight of blood as I stumbled, my ankle twisted as I fell on the ground with a thud. Jimin wasn't Jungkook to catch me before I fell. I fell, hard, bad, hurtful. I stare at the tall ceilings, the giant chandelier glimmering.
Maybe this is how it ends. This is how I die, reminiscing about my seventeen-year-old self, eating a mediocre meal at a convenience store after I've lost everyone. When there's not a home I belong to, I finally have my own home. My grave. I exhale, let this be my death. A peaceful life full of forbidden love.
I close my eyes, a single last tear falling. I felt my breathing stop, my heart churning. This is how I died.
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chapter one
Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: Dabi x Reader Words: 6.2k
A/N: The first chapter of my lil Dabi passion project. Partially inspired by "Haunting Adeline" (awesome book but PLEASE heed the warnings in it). The full list of warnings is included in the main masterlist, but individual ones will be posted at the beginning of each chapter. Also this is my first time writing from both Reader and Dabi's perspective, so I hope it's not too bad. I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: 18+ only (minors DNI), explicit language, mentions of arson, mentions of violence, stalking, breaking and entering, working in retail (I'm sorry), Reader lives in a cute lil house in the middle of the woods, Reader also has 3 plushies (that all have names, because I'm a dork)
"Kerosene and Butterflies" Masterlist
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It’s raining again, for the fourth day in a row. Barely any light to work with at the little workspace you’ve made for yourself at the kitchen table. So instead you rest your hands on your arms, watching the rain patter against the window panes. Pen and paper pushed away and left forgotten on the surface.
Rain always makes you feel nice. Not happy or sad, just nice. Gives you something to look at, the sound mindless enough to put you at ease. Soft and warm, more often than not lulling you to sleep with its voice. It’s hard to explain, but it seems to make sense in your mind.
Your phone lights up on the table with a text. It’s your mother again, sending her weekly check-in text. Even though you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself and living on your own. But it’s more for her than you; you think it helps her cope with one of her kids living abroad, so far out of her reach.
Well, that’s what enticed you about this house in the first place, but you’ll never tell her that.
With a yawn you grab your phone and send a quick reply. Yes you’re okay, you’re getting enough sleep, you miss her home cooked meals. Call her tomorrow, put her mind at ease. Buy another few days of freedom before the cycle inevitably repeats itself.
When you finish and place your phone back down, you give the paper and pen one last look. Maybe you could try one more time, see if anything comes to mind?
Your chest deflates at the thought. No, the spark is long gone. Try again a different day, get some sleep for now. You need it.
You can almost hear it laughing at you, the uncapped pen lying dangerously close to its blank skin. You’ve been hearing it for the last hour or so, wracking your brain to come up with something, anything. Words, ideas, or even bullet points you can just jot down in your chicken scratch handwriting. Just a sliver of something to get those creative juices flowing.
But your eyelids are already drooping, the rainy weather not helping you one bit. Your brain feels like it’s all dried up, giving you a never-ending headache. Telling you that you’ve already reached your peak; that nothing else you make will ever come close to how you want it to come out.
Oh well. Tomorrow’s another day, right?
But you know damn well you’ll be back to square one tomorrow night, when you get home from work. Staring at that blank page with your head in your hands, praying for the words to come. For the inspiration to strike—to make you feel anything other than this.
At least the paper’s still good, maybe you can use it for a shopping list later in the week. That way it’ll get some good use out of it.
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Your job isn’t exactly the flashiest; definitely not what you envisioned yourself doing at twenty-four years old. Working at a dead-end department store in the shady part of town, along with four or five other people—and none of them are close to you in age. But it keeps the bills paid and food in your fridge, so you guess it’s not as bad as it could be. You could do without the annoying entitled customers, though.
At least your shift stretches into the latter half of the day, meaning you only have to deal with them for about four hours, five tops if you end up taking your lunch break late. Then the store closes, the customers are ushered out, and you spend the rest of your time stocking the shelves and getting ready for the next busy day.
Most nights the store’s already empty, with only a handful of customers roaming the aisles. That gives you some extra time to start stocking; you prefer putting stuff back on the shelves rather than ringing on register anyways. Register gets boring and repetitive fast, but working on the floor always gives you something new to do.
“Excuse me, where can I find the laundry detergent?”
“Down the next aisle and to your left, all the way down at number twenty-four.”
“Where’s the soup and all the instant meals?”            
“Right over here actually, on the middle shelf.”
“You have any beer?”
“Last aisle down, all the way to the end. You’ll see the freezer straight ahead.”
Every interaction gives you a rush of excitement, as sad as it sounds. In all honesty, your job isn’t the complete worst. Most customers are fine and even pleasant to deal with, and it always makes you feel good when you’re able to help them find something on their lists. Besides, it tests your knowledge of the store, almost like a matching game; after three years of working in the same place, you pretty much know it like the back of your hand.
Tonight seems like one of those lazy nights, with only a couple customers roaming through the aisles, the lone cashier at the registers looking like he’s about to fall asleep. You’re sorting through the grocery bin at the front (either what customers decided they didn’t want, or items found randomly throughout the store). There’s quite a bit today, must’ve been pretty busy earlier in the day.
It doesn’t take long to put the shelf-ready stuff into a cart and trek down to the grocery section. Most of it is candy anyways, which is in the first couple aisles. One item after another, until you start to see the bottom of the cart.
You step back from the shelf, a handful of candy bars clenched between your fingers, when your back suddenly collides into something—or someone, judging by the grunt they let out.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean that, I should really watch where I’m going, I’m really sorry about that—”
The words die right there on your tongue as you glance up at the person. You can barely see his face behind the dark mask over his mouth and his hood pulled over his hair. But something catches your eye—something dark and heavy beneath his eyes.
He’s got some serious bags under his eyes, poor guy must be working himself to death. Must be a college student, you know how it feels.
Wait a minute…bags?
Your head begins to buzz. You don’t think you’ve ever seen bags bad enough to leave the skin so…wrinkled. Almost like they’re—
But he’s already walking away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. Head hanging low and shoulders tense as he disappears down the next aisle.
It’s not until another customer asks you where the hand soap is, that you remember to blink—and breathe. It takes a bit of effort, but you manage to give them the right aisle across the store. But then you’re staring off into space once more, thinking about the strange person in the black hoodie and mask.
Dark patches under his eyes… Could it really be…?
No way, stop thinking like that. You know where your mind is going, don’t you dare entertain the thought.
You shake your head. You’re being ridiculous. It’s getting late, anyway. You didn’t get that much sleep last night to begin with, it’s early to bed when you get home later tonight.
You file the last of the candy in its proper home on the shelf before heading down the main path towards the registers. Pet food, paper goods, detergent, body wash… A couple aisles here and there for every department. You should check and see if there’s any chemicals up front that need to go back on the shelf. Probably the easiest department for you to handle, other than food and appliances—
Your jaw drops when you turn the corner and come face-to-face with the dark stranger from earlier. Staring down at you with those dark eyes—no, the patches are dark, his eyes are actually quite bright, and oh my fucking God they’re blue—
There’s something sticking out of his pocket—the red and white label of a box of Band-Aids. And that’s not the only thing in there, judging by the awkward bulges and pointy corners. Maybe some extra medicine or painkillers.
You glance back up at him. Neither of you make any move to leave.
“…I won’t tell if you won’t.”
The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. All you can think about is how this little corner of the store lacks any functioning security cameras, and how it’s probably only a few dollars, it won’t necessarily put the store out of business if he gets away with it. Just this one time. No one has to know, except the two of you.  
He’s glaring now, probably curling his lip at you from behind the mask. You swallow the growing lump in your throat, your heart throbbing furiously against your ribcage.
“Can…I get you anything else?”
“Fuck off.”
He shoves his way past you, shoulder nearly knocking you on your ass. Your throat runs dry as his words echo in your ears, his voice sending chills down your spine.
You know him, but from where? You know his voice, his looks—but why can’t you remember him?
You glance over your shoulder but he’s already gone, most likely heading towards the exit. Not like you’re gonna stop him.
Still, you can’t get your little encounter out of your mind, even as you try to busy yourself with your work. Not even ten minutes pass by before you grab another box of bandages and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, mumbling to your coworker, “Store use, I’ll claim it out when I get back,” all the while feigning injury as you cradle your wrist against your chest (where a small pack of cotton balls is pressed between your fingers).
The back of the store leads out to the dumpsters in the back alley. A prime spot for smoke breaks, despite smelling like absolute crap. Chalk marks and spray paint decorating the walls, trash bags spilling out of the dumpsters in the corner. You clutch the supplies to your chest, head swinging wildly in search of the stranger.
But there’s no one out there. He’s gone for good this time—and for some reason, you can’t explain the sudden ache in your chest.
You don’t know what makes you leave the bandages and alcohol in the corner of the alley, hidden by the shadow of the dumpsters. Or why there’s a pang in the pit of your stomach, as you remember how bright his blue eyes looked.
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Here’s a tip for any aspiring writers out there: get comfortable with constantly going on the internet. Whether it’s looking for an obscure random fact about Victorian houses in the 1800s or learning just how long it takes to recover from a bullet wound in the shoulder, search engines like Google will become your best friend. It won’t always provide the most accurate information, but it’s a start to get the ball rolling.
But this particular search doesn’t stem from a story in your drafts; all you can see are those mysterious blue eyes from the store, and the dark wrinkled patches beneath them.
It doesn’t take long at all to find your answer: a thread of articles and blurry photos of the infamous League of Villains—the same ones that have been terrorizing the country for the past year or so. Casualties, crimes, and even past victims. Every word brings another wave of goosebumps, but you can’t tear your eyes away.
Of course. That’s where you knew him from. Makes sense now.
There’s a handful of people in the photos, each one more terrifying than the last. A young girl with a feral smile, associated with a string of murders involving severe blood loss. A man capable of decaying anything with just a brush of his fingers. And the same stranger you saw in the store, known for over thirty murders and thousands in property damage, all thanks to those dangerous blue flames.
You slam the laptop shut and suppress a shiver. What were you thinking? Acting so casual with a villain—you knew you recognized those eyes somewhere—and oh my God, were you really going to try to meet him outside at the back?
And for what? Some bandages that he’d clearly already stolen? Hell, you’d let him walk away even when you knew he was planning on stealing them!
Hopefully your boss never finds out about that.
You glance out the window of your living room, pulling the lapels of your jacket closer to your chest. The door’s locked, the windows are latched, and the curtains are closed. Nothing out there but the trees and the moon and the gentle rainfall.
Calm down. Why would he come after you? You didn’t do anything to piss him off, did you? So what makes you think he’d try to figure out where you lived? What would he have to gain from that?
Still, you triple check the lock on the door, before moving backwards towards your bedroom. Also clicking the lock into place once you’re safe inside.
A villain. You can’t believe you came across an actual villain.
Villains were a common presence even back home, and you knew before moving abroad there was a possibility you could encounter some of them. But they always kept to the shadows, staying out of the spotlight for as long as they could. Only showing up in cities far away from your own. You’ve never come face to face with one of them, never been so fucking close to one of them before—
You crawl into bed and throw the covers over your head. Trying to focus on the pitter patter of the rain against the windows.
But you can’t get those images out of your mind. No matter how hard you squeeze your eyes shut, or bury your face into the pillow, you can still see his face. Those horrid wrinkled patches beneath his eyes. The same shade of blue as the flames from his palms. The way he looked at you as though you were nothing but a smear of dirt on the bottom of his boot.
He could’ve burned you right then and there.
You don’t fall asleep easily that night.
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Despite your paranoia, the next few days go by without any issue. Work, errands, go back home. Your life continues just as it did before you met that crazy villain—and knowing that, you can breathe a little easier when you rest your head on your pillow for the night.
The little pile of medicine and supplies you’d left in the back alley had disappeared the next morning. Someone else had probably picked them up, who could say no to free medical supplies? There’s a slim chance that villain came back and took them for himself.
You know it’s a long shot. And yet there’s still some part of you that clings to it, wondering if he’s still sticking around this part of town.
Come on, what’s wrong with you? Are you really that eager to put your life in danger like that?
The rational part of your brain says no. But there’s another part, a much more vocal part of your brain, that can’t stop thinking about your little encounter. And what you would’ve done if he’d been in that alley that night.
Probably cry your eyes out. Then get killed like the dumbass you are.
Still, no matter what you do or what you try to focus on instead, he keeps coming back to your mind. And you find yourself visiting those damn websites, those stupid forums night after night when you get home from work, speculating just who he might be beneath those painful scars and bright blue flames.
What kind of life did he lead before joining the League? Does he have any regrets about becoming a villain? Does he actually enjoy being on the run like this?
It’s only when you’re lying wide awake in bed at close to two in the morning, still worn out from a long day at work that the more innocent questions start to plague your mind:
What’s his favorite color? Is it blue, or does he actually hate it? When is his birthday? Does he have any friends, either before he became a villain, or anyone in the League? You wonder, what’s his real name?
“Why am I even thinking about this? Not like I’m ever gonna see him again…” And you should be grateful for that.
But there’s still an ache in your chest, an awkward swirl in your stomach, every time you remind yourself of that simple little fact. And you don’t really know what to make of it.
Another hour passes before you push yourself out of bed and right to your desk in the corner. Grabbing one of the little notebooks you’d bought for story notes and ideas, but haven’t really touched in the last few months. Sliding into the seat with a sigh and clicking open one of the many black pens from the drawer at your side. Flicking on the small desk lamp and squinting against the sudden brightness.
It’s not uncommon for the inspiration to hit at ungodly hours of the morning. Honestly, you do your best writing between midnight and six a.m.; the only drawback is being unable to stay awake at work the next day. But at least you have some damn good writing to show for it.
But that hasn’t happened for months now. Not since you moved and started working nights. Now you have to hit the hay almost as soon as you come home, if you want any chance of a normal sleep schedule.
The pen moves on its own. Every breath brings another word on the page. Ink starts to smudge the side of your hand.
They appear in front of you: all the questions circling around in your mind, begging to be answered. The honest, the childish, even questions you think of on the spot. Anything and everything you would ask him if you were ever given the chance.
What are you doing? You should be in bed trying to sleep. Not doing…whatever this is.
You swallow hard as a single word appears before you: Dabi.
And immediately you start to shiver, your cheeks growing warm beneath the scathing looks of the ink and pages.
You’ve always had a strange complex when it comes to writing out people’s names. They’re much easier to speak out in your mind, or even say verbally. But once you write them out, it becomes almost final. It’s different to actually see those letters right in front of you, rather than just imagining them in your mind. Guess it makes everything seem so much more real that way. 
It’s stupid, so fucking stupid.
But you don’t stop, even when your hand begins to cramp. Because this is the first time in almost half a year that you’re actually letting your pen guide you. The first time you truly feel at ease, not even caring about what you’ve written, or even stopping yourself to edit it.
What’s it called, word vomit? It’s therapeutic, but incredibly hard to do sometimes.
It’s not until the sun rises a couple hours later, and you’re half-asleep at your desk. Your arms curled beneath your head, the muscles in your hand throbbing like crazy. But then you see all those words you’ve written, all that ink staining those pristine white pages…
And you can’t help but smile as you drift off to sleep.
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The air is stale with the scent of smoke and ash. The city always smells like shit, but it’s usually better on the outskirts. But the burning pile of flesh at the end of the alley begs to differ, and his hands still ache as blue flames lick at his palms.
Another shitty night coming to an end, thank fuck.
Dabi’s been in this damn city for the better part of two weeks now, boss’s orders unfortunately. Scouting for any possible members, new blood they could add to their ranks. But every group is the same; they’re either loud-mouthed fucks with more muscle in their arms than their own damn heads, or they’re practically children, fresh out of school and all set on playing hero. Still thinking this is a fucking game, and that they can stand to take the League out from the inside.
He’s already had one guy try it a couple months back, but he knew better than to go through with it. Can’t say the same for the rest of the dumbasses burning in the alley, though.
Oh, well. No doubt the heroes will find them tomorrow, if they even bother showing up. Not many of them like to venture all the way out here, especially if it means real danger.
He slides a pack of cigs out from his pocket, choosing one and lighting it with the tip of his finger. He’s walked these roads too many times in the last few nights, practically knows them inside and out. And it’s not long before that silly little department store comes into view—the same one that oh-so-generously let him borrow some of their stock last week.
Didn’t even need to use his quirk to make it happen, either.
The double doors slide open, the blaring lights a stark contrast to the shadows of the streets. He barely has time to step back before someone steps out, waving their hand behind them with a smile on their face.
Oh, the same one from that night. He can’t help but smirk at the memory.
It’s a girl—and if her face and height are anything to go by, he’s starting to wonder if she’s even old enough to work at a place like this. Apparently her brain must be impressively small too, with the way she’s walking down the darkened street without a care in the world. One hand fastened on the strap of her purse and the other dangling down at her side, a dark lanyard wrapped around her wrist. She must have a shit-ton of keyrings on them, judging by how hard she swings it back and forth. As if that’s going to protect her if someone tries to jump her.
Fucking dipshit.
He rolls his eyes and takes another long drag of his cigarette. Watching the stupid kid out of the corner of his eye—and nearly dropping the cig altogether when he watches her veer off the sidewalk and head straight for the forest.
What the fuck is she doing? Does she want to get herself killed?
Maybe it’s sheer curiosity—or maybe it’s hoping something out there will pick her off so she’ll learn her lesson—whatever it is, it has his feet moving on their own. Picking up the pace to keep her within his sights, the cigarette barely hanging from his mouth.
Didn’t anyone teach her not to go walking around this late at night? For fuck’s sake it’s nearly one in the morning, does her shift really last that long? What compelled her to take a walk in the goddamn forest of all places? No way she lives all the way out here, she’s probably got a place somewhere in the city. Probably just looking for a cheap thrill so late at night.
Stop it. She’s not your problem to worry about, so quit it already. Just sit back and watch the show.
He follows her down the old trodden path, waiting for her to hit a stray root or trip over a rock and fall flat on her face. But nothing happens, other than a few scuffs of dirt on her ratty old sneakers. Almost like she knows these woods—like the back of her hand.
It’s a struggle to keep his footsteps soft. His boots do nothing to quell the sound of leaves crunching, dirt spraying across the path. Luckily she doesn’t hear, either that or she just doesn’t care.
Where the hell is she heading at this hour?
His answer appears in the form of a house. A pretty shitty-looking one, if he’s being completely honest. Shabby roof, flimsy door, moss creeping over each and every corner. Almost like no one’s bothered to visit the place in the last decade or so—at least.
The girl steps right up to the door, swinging that stupid lanyard at her side. Shuffling around until she finds the right key, before disappearing into the house altogether. A light flickers on in the window, her shadow visible behind the aging curtains.
Fuck him, she does live here.
In the middle of nowhere, secluded from the rest of the world. She’s stupid, isolating herself from all those people in town. Help’s not gonna come if you’re stuck in some random forest, she’s probably better off in the heart of the city. Then again, it must be nice for her. Being able to wake up in the morning without the blaring of sirens in your ears. Tucked away where no one can find you, safe and sound in the comfort of your own quiet home.
He almost envies her. Almost.
The longer he stares at the little mossy house, watching her shadow flit back and forth behind the curtain, the more he starts to wonder what she has inside. Must be stocked on food and medicine; that shit’s hard to come by these days. Might be worth a peek once she’s gone. She’ll probably leave tomorrow night for her shift, right? He’ll slip in then, see if she’s got anything worth his time. Better this random cottage than an apartment in the city, right? From what he can tell there’s not a soul in sight, save for the looming trees and starry sky.
He’s smirking now, slipping back into the shadows of the forest, right beside the old trodden path. She never even sees him.
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The house is dark and empty by sundown. The path is easier to walk in the daylight, but he still waits until nightfall before scoping out the house. Just in case she getany bright ideas and decides to return home sooner than she should.
It’s a two-story house, and while the front door’s latched shut, the windows sure aren’t. It slides open with a squeak, like it hasn’t been touched in years. Looks like the kitchen—or a sorry excuse for one, if he’s being honest. A small table with only two chairs, neither of them looking like they’re from the same set. Papers and books and pens litter the surface, with the napkin holder knocked down on its side.
Not that they have a better one back at the base. Hell, they’re lucky enough if they’re able to sit down for most of their meals, if they can get their hands on any.
Which reminds him of his mission, and he’s scanning the room for any possible food. And there, to his left: a crowded counter stacked with boxes of cookies and candy, below a pair of cupboards with even more food stored inside.
Jackpot.
The League’s not picky when it comes to food, anything will do when your stomach’s keeping you up at night. Well, Dabi can’t say the same for himself—he fucking hates fish. He’d much rather deal with an empty stomach rather than scarf down a few meager bites of sushi. Just the thought of it makes him want to puke.
He can’t take too much the first night, that’ll only make her wonder. It’s best to have as little people in this secluded house as possible. So for now he stuffs his pockets with small snacks for the guys back at base…and maybe even a few candy bars for Toga. Last thing that little psycho needs is more sugar in her system, but he’d rather not hear her whine that he didn’t get anything for her when he gets back.
Plus, this girl doesn’t seem to have any pomegranates around (or any fruit or vegetables, for that matter), so candy will have to do.
When both pockets are jammed with food, he takes a step back to survey the rest of the house. At least the inside looks marginally better than the outside, save for the abhorrent dining room. Simple and sweet, even if it’s a little bland in color.
A gray couch with a couple of pillows in bright colorful pillowcases. A side table with one too many remotes on it, along with a paperback that’s definitely seen better days. A kitchen isle with a sink cluttered with dirty dishes, and a single stool resting beneath the opposite end. Not a single house plant in sight, but plenty of photos throughout, some on the wall but most taped on the fridge. Must be friends and family—but so far, he can only see one person living in this house.
How sad, she must be so lonely without anyone else here…
He rolls his eyes and trods up the creaky set of stairs. Might as well take a peek at the rest of the house, right?
The hallways split up into three major bedrooms. One is filled with storage totes and moving boxes, still waiting to be unpacked (though, by the layer of dust on each of them, he’s not thinking any time soon). The other bedroom is filled, and he means filled, with books. Every square inch is either vacated with an old aging shelf or a stack of hardcovers on the floor. It’s messy and cluttered and he slams the door shut as soon as he opens it.
Lives like a fucking slob, doesn’t she?
The final bedroom turns out to be the biggest one of all, and it’s the only one in the house that actually lives up to its name. A dresser, a desk, and surprise, surprise, another fucking bookcase. There’s also a bed with a thousand plushies on the covers, each one more ridiculous than the last. A giraffe, a raccoon, and whatever the fuck that is. Some weird fuzzy brown creature with a large snout and a bitchy expression on its face. Toga probably knows the name of it, but Dabi couldn’t care less.
There’s also a set of double doors that leads out to a little terrace. It looks better than the rest of the house—must be a newer addition—overlooking the forest beyond. Overall it’s a cute little spot to live in.
And still no sign of anyone else living here with her.
He’s smirking now, thinking of all the things he can sneak out of here in the next few nights—when something else catches his eye. A strange outline under the blanket of the bed, in the center of all the damn toys staring back at him.
He has half a mind to burn the little giraffe to a crisp as he reaches in for the mysterious object. And it’s…a book. Fucking shocker.
No, wait—it’s a journal. Only a few pages filled in so far, the ink messy against the bright white pages. It’s the size of his palm, with a black leather cover and a matching black string attached to the spine, probably to act as a bookmark. And sure enough it’s stuck in a certain spot in the book, the entry dated to just a few nights ago.
I want to see him again. I know that sounds wrong, but it’s the truth. I can’t really explain it, no matter how hard I try. Everything that comes out just sounds wrong…but in my head it makes perfect sense.
I know I’m probably screwed in the head for thinking this. For thinking about him like this. Like I could be the one to change him, to be the only one he wouldn’t kill on sight.
No, wait a minute. I was, wasn’t I? We saw each other that night at the store, and he didn’t even try to hurt me.
He can feel his brow inching further up with every word he reads. What the fuck is she talking about? He flips to another random page—
And the answer’s staring him right in the face, in stark black ink.
Dabi
Dabi
Dabi   
Dabi
I want to see him again. Ask him so many questions, the same ones that keep rattling away in my head. Why did you become a villain? Where did you come from? What is your favorite color?
Please, just one more time. We don’t even have to talk to each other. I just wanna see him with my own two eyes. Now that I know he’s real, that he’s the villain everyone’s afraid of. And I know I should be too, and I am…but I think I’m more curious of him. Maybe that just makes me stupid.
Yeah, I’m just stupid.
The words are swimming on the pages, blurring together, screaming in his head so loud he wonders if he’s read them out loud. But no, it’s dead silent in this room, in this house. Just him and this little black book, written in the hand of that little weirdo. The same one that chooses to live in a creepy old house in the middle of the forest, the one that works at a sketchy department store well into the night. The same one that didn’t scream once she saw him—but instead offered to let him go, even when she knew he was stealing.
And for some reason, he can’t hold back the smirk that stretches across his face.
Of all the people in this city, in this whole damn country, he thinks he’s found the one that intrigues him the most.
Poor girl, doesn’t even know what she’s caused. Just mindlessly writing her thoughts down in her diary, hoping no one will ever read what she’s written.
As carefully as he can, he tucks the book back in its place under the covers. As tempting as it is to take it with him, he knows that’ll only cause more suspicion. Still, he wants to leave her a love letter of his own—something that lets her know she’s not alone in her fascination.
So he does.
And a few minutes later he’s climbing out the kitchen window and making the trek through the forest, pockets full with snacks and a shit-eating grin on his face.
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You hate Saturday nights. Arguably the busiest night of the week, and yet you’re still so short-staffed the cashiers end up taking the full brunt of the work. Ringing register, sorting supplies, stocking shelves—oh wait, we need you back up front to do register. Wait why aren’t you working on that cart I told you to finish? Excuse me, can you unlock this item for me? Can you help me check out, and only me, these lines are too long for my liking. Why can’t you be in two places at once?
Not that you ever find it fun to come to work…but Saturday nights just make it a little less fun. And once it calms down and the store closes up, you have to make the journey back home half-asleep. It’s a miracle you haven’t woken up in the middle of the forest yet.
Tonight is one of those nights, where you stumble your way back home like you’ve just had one hell of a night at the bar. But no amount of rubbing your eyes or chugging the bottle of soda in your hands will keep you upright. Eventually you see your little house in the distance, and your chest starts to feel a little lighter at the promise of sleep.
You fumble with the keys twice before managing to unlock the door. Latching it shut behind you, you don’t even turn on any lights before heading straight to your room. The dishes and laundry can wait till tomorrow. Right now, all you need is some fucking sleep.
The trio of stuffed animals on your bed greet you when you step into the room. Before coming to live here, your mother insisted you bring along some childhood stuffies with you, just so you wouldn’t get too lonely. And you hate to say it, but she was absolutely right. More often than not do you find yourself cuddling up to them, wondering about your family back home.
You kick off your shoes and drape your jacket over the back of the desk chair. Then you flop face first onto the bed, not even bothering to change into pajamas. You know you’ll be out cold within five minutes, so what’s the point?
“Goodnight, Rascal,” you mumble to the little raccoon, “goodnight, A.J.,” you pet the little giraffe, “and goodnight, Maxwell.” The little capybara toy is your favorite, but you’ll never admit it out loud. (Not when the other two can hear you.)
You roll over onto the bed, but something sharp juts into your side. You groan and force your hand beneath the covers to yank it out—oh, that’s right… you forgot you’d left your little notebook in bed with you. Must’ve fallen asleep while writing in it last night.
But there’s something sticking out of it, something that prevents it from closing all the way. You open it up and a scrap of paper falls out; not a loose page from the book, but a folded-up index card. One that’s got a note of its own written messily on the side.
One that makes the exhaustion all but vanish from your body.
You should keep this book in a safer hiding spot. You never know who might be reading all your little love notes, doll. 
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luniax13 · 3 months
Text
Yandere Tartaglia x Reader 3.0
(x Yandere Cyno)
SFW
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
TRIGGERWARNING: indicated threats, mention of violence, jealousy, betrayal
Summary:
You finally get a chance of freedom again, but friends turn suprisingly into obsessed and longing foes.
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In a swift motion, Cyno tried to grab you and to increase the distance between you and the Harbinger. Instead he was facing the issue of an blade made of water held to his neck, as he got close to take your hand.
Tartaglia had placed you behind him in a protective manner, eyes lighting up with the urge to kill. "So it was a trap after all. I should've known.", the Harbinger muttered disapointed, that he couldn't trust his loved one. The pressure on your arm, which he was holding, increased and you tried to suppres a yelp of pain. You didn't even try to break free from his grip as it was way to strong. "We just faced a situation with two of the eleven Harbinger. Another one might be just as problematic and I can't have a good friend of mine near such a problematic person.", Cyno explained as he took notice of the pain he had caused you, while jumping back, carefull not to cut his neck. The grip around your arm losened a bit, but not enough to free yourself. "We're here to visit Sumeru, not to cause any trouble.", you tried to deescalate the tensed situation, stepping next to the Harbinger. Tartaglia looked suprised as he noticed you standing up for the both of you as a duo, which wasn't your intention at all. You just didn't want to return to your prison. Cyno shot you a look of cofusion. Your letters, that you had sent a week ago, announcing you, told an absolutly different story. "In fact,", you continued, "We were just looking for you. Would you be so kind to accompany us on an investigation of the ruins of King Deshret? We need someone, who's familiar with the old mechanics.", you continued. Now both men stared at you with confusion. Cyno didn't seem to get the idea of your plan. You sighed in frustration as you turned to Tartaglia. "I want to see the ancient ruins, I studied, for one last time." you practically begged him. "I promise to return with you to your estate.", you ensured him. "Home.", the Harbinger stated. "What?", you asked perplex. "We're returning home after this last adventure of yours.", he clarified. Your heart sank. If you failed to escape this time, there was little to no chance of ever escaping again. Even now, he probably watched every step you took with great caution. Cyno tensed up visibly as well. He finally understood your plan and the gravity of it.
A couple days later the three of you had gathered all the supplies needed for an exploration of this kind. The trip to the ruins would normaly take up to three days, but as you were lead by Cyno and used to longlasting trips like this, you managed to reach them within two days. The traveling part was permeated by long sullen silence. Cyno didn't even try to tell one of his infamous jokes. Everytime he tried to engage a conversation with you, Tartaglia proceeded to press you painfully close to him. At night and at the stops you made, the two men stared eachother down as the Harbinger refused to let go of you. At some point at night you excused yourself to change clothes. Cyno claimed to have heard something and vanished into the darkness. Tartaglia was left dumbfounded at the fireplace, but was quick to get up and look out for you. Cyno had followed you and stood right behind you as he grabed you to help you to escape. "Quick. He might be onto us. Let's get going, to get you to the academia.", he rushed your perplexed self. "Then, you can be mine forever.", he muttered to himself, not intending to have you listening. But you heard it regardless. And your blood froze as you realised that Cyno himself wasn't any better than the man he was trying to save you from. You would end up captured and imprisoned, no matter who you choosed. Tartaglia was probably stil the better choice. You escaped him once, you can do it a second time, you thought to yourself. As you didn't show any motion, Cyno looked irritated at you. You noticed the side-eye he was giving you and quickly pretended to grab your clothes and them to 'accidentaly' slip from your hands just as you had grabed another piece of fabric. You prayed to the gods above, that the Harbinger would have followed your tracks and would find you as soon as posible. It seemed like your prayers had been answered. Right as Cyno seemed to have lost his patience, Tartaglia hugged you from behind and glared at the General of the Mahamatra as the Harbinger placed a doting kiss on your cheek. "What seems to be the situation here.", he asked rethorically. "I was just finishing getting redressed, when suddenly, there was a giant scorpion trying to attack me. Luckily Cyno was nearby and killed it.", you straight up lied. It was obvious that Tartaglia didn't believe a single word you were uttering. But you were here and had not escaped, so he let go of the topic and returned back to the campfire, with an arm around your waist. After everyone ate, you managed to convice both men to let you sleep in your own sleeping bag, seprately a bit distant to the fire, as you pretended that the fire would bring such a great warmth, that you couldn't handle it. Everytime you woke up that night, which happened to be a lot of times, one of the two men would allways stare at you relentlessly. Escape wasn't an option that night.
When you finally reached the main entry to the ruins, you felt a weird feeling of familarity as you rembered the numerous nights and days you spend studying these ruins. For once in a long time you felt calm and relaxed as if a great weight had been lifted from your shoulders. These ancient and long forgotten remains of an once blossoming civilization felt like home to you. And thus posed as the perfect opportunity to finaly get away from your suitors and to fully regain your freedom. You were determined to have reached Fontaine by the end of the week as the tunnel system of the ancient remains happened to be pretty extensiv and reached far beyond the command area of the Mahamatra or the academia and as far as you were informed, even the Fatui found themselfs troubled with finding consistent abodes in the area bordering to Fontaine. You hoped to find protection in the nation of justice.
After some exploring of the area, you noticed one of the mechanics meant to protect the ostensible tomb. A trap was placed a few meters away from you, tricking intruders into standing on top of inconsistently existing stone slab, that vanished as soon as someone or something stood on it for a little to long, leaving the intruder at the mercy of gravity and falling into one of the many lower floors of the pyramid. A quick refinement of your original plan was executed in your head as you noticed, that, in addition to the mechanics, the way you were exploring held a consitent repetition of beautiful engravings, picturing an old ritual. You took out the camera, that Tartaglia bought you in Sumeru City, and told your escorts to stand on the inconstent slap for a lovely photo, as a memorabilia. Cyno seemed a little suspicious and hesitant at first and you heart stopped for a second, expecting him to refuse to stand at that specific place. After a moment, that felt like hours, he shrugged and posed for the picture, Tartaglia following. As soon as they stood at the right position, you started to focus the camera on the two men. You waited a couple seconds before activating the shutter botton. As you took the picture, the floor, Cyno and the Harbinger were standing on, vanished and the two men followed suit. Ecstasy filled you as the first phase of your plan worked perfectly. Now you had to find the right tunnel to get as far away from the academia as possible. As you stowed the camera away, you saw a bright light glowing from inside your backpack. You decided to distant yourself from the scene of betrayal and find a safe shelter before investigating the light.
You decided to rest near a little underground oase, that was home to small fungi creatures, that seemed harmless enough. As you settled down, you remembered the glowing light and searched for it in your backpack. When you finally found the object, you were startled. You were holding a shining and glowing vision of the element of Anemo in your hands. The gods seemed to be on your side.
While you celebrated your lucky discovery, Tartaglia and Cyno took the chance of your absence and fought for the right to be your loved one, the one taking you with them in the end.
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//AN: I'm still alive, suprisingly. This was fun to write, honestly. As you might have noticed, I try to orientate the story on the events that happend in-game. Yes I know, that the reader, technically couldn't have known or studied the old pyramids, bc of the academia's retrictions, but I was so amazed by the lore, that I had to put into the story. Let's hope Cyno survives and let's hope that the reader isn't eaten by some funny looking mushrooms, while Tartaglia isn't there to protect them.
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buriedalienfma · 8 months
Text
The release of the first few episodes of ‘My Adventures with Superman’ has got me thinking a lot about Superman, and in particular, I wanted to talk about the Superman cartoon that never was - The Superman Family Animated Series.
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For those who don’t know what this is all about, here’s the gist of it :
In around 2019, animation director Victor Heuck pitched an idea for a new Superman cartoon that was loosely titled “Superman Family”. The basic idea behind the cartoon was to essentially adapt the DC Rebirth Superman comics as well as the Super-Sons comics. The Rebirth Superman comics primarily focused on Superman raising his son, Jon Kent (who inherited his father’s powers) with his wife Lois Lane, while Super-Sons focused on Jon Kent’s escapades as the new Superboy as he teams up with Damian Wayne, the son of Batman.
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Victor Heuck wanted to take the ideas behind the above mentioned comics and adapt them into a new Superman cartoon. The cartoon was also going to be very light-hearted in tone and Heuck has stated that the older Silver Age Superman comics was also going to be a strong influence on the cartoon. Just as an example, Heuck mentioned that he wanted to explore the idea of Jon and his mother dealing with Superman being turned into a Merman for a potential episode of the cartoon. That should give you a good idea of what kind of cartoon this was going to be.
Victor Heuck worked alongside Sean “Cheeks” Galloway to put together the pitch. You might have heard of Sean Galloway, he was the character designer behind the Spectacular Spider-Man animated series, and he drew up a couple of the character designs for the ‘Superman Family’ cartoon.
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As the title of the cartoon would suggest, there was going to be a strong focus on the Superman family. Characters like Kenan Kong and Natasha Irons were going to be featured as recurring characters. In the comics, Kenan Kong is the Superman of China, while Natasha Irons is the niece of John Henry Irons, a character who built a high-tech suit of armor in order to become a superhero inspired by Superman himself. Natasha Irons followed in her uncle’s footsteps with her own suit of armor. The ‘Superman Family’ cartoon was going to portray Natasha as the big sister to Jon Kent. As you can see from the character sheets above, the classic Superman villain Mxyzptlk was also going to be a recurring character, which is fitting since I consider him to be THE silver age Superman villain.
While the pitch was received warmly by the people working at Warner Brothers, they ultimately chose to pass on the cartoon and as a result, it was never made.
So what are my thoughts on this pitch ? Well, this pitch was made in around 2019, and I can tell you right now, that wasn’t the best time for Superman fans. There was no plans for a new Superman movie or series at the time and the character seemed to be fading from  the public eye. At that time, I gladly would have welcomed this cartoon. It would have had a pretty big impact on the Superman franchise. For one, I think that Jon Kent would have been propelled into the spotlight.
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When this character was first created, he seemed to be guaranteed to be a very popular kid-appeal character. He was the son of Superman who had to live up to his father, one of the world’s greatest heroes. His design is anime-inspired and in-universe, he was even an anime fan. He had a pretty charming personality as the kid who meant well, but tended to screw up for one reason or another. He was created in the same mold as the likes of Gohan from Dragon Ball or Midorya from My Hero Academia. By all accounts, he should have been a bigger deal.
Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. In general, I think the comics that starred the character were not easily accessible to the general public. The Superman Rebirth comics are still loved by Superman fans, but they’re full of continuity baggage that only long time fans would have been able to understand. They also weren’t very kid friendly and featured a surprising amount of gruesome scenes. The Super-Sons comic was a little more accessible, but it was ultimately short lived and didn’t make that much of a splash. Recently DC has experimented with aging Jon Kent up and having him become the new Superman...which hasn’t been well received by fans and to be fair his comic series is kinda mediocre. Over time, I’ve realized that while I liked the basic ideas behind Jon Kent, I don’t really care for the character as he is outside of a couple of very specific comics. And one of those comics is a fanfic, so that should tell you how bad the character has it in the past few years.
The ‘Superman Family’ cartoon would have been the break that Jon Kent deserved as the cartoon would undoubtedly be more accessible to the general public. I think the character would have been in a very different place if the cartoon went through and became successful.
As for Superman himself, I feel like the cartoon would have actually delivered on the promises of the Rebirth Superman comics. When I first read those comics, I was excited because I wanted to see Superman deal with the complications of being a parent, and especially a parent to a super-powered son, and I was rather disappointed when the stories side-stepped that idea entirely and just had Superman as a perfect father figure. Perhaps the cartoon may have fixed that ? Who knows.
Now with the benefit of hindsight and after seeing the release of two new Superman series in ‘Superman and Lois’, and ‘My Adventures with Superman’, do I still think that the cartoon should have been made ? Probably.
I have to be honest, I much prefer ‘My Adventures with Superman’ and how it took a more classic, back-to-basics approach to the Superman mythos. I think that is much more refreshing compared to the twists that other Superman stories have tried to put on the formula. One the other hand, the ‘Superman Family’ cartoon probably would have been much better than ‘Superman and Lois’, which has a similar premise and started off very strong but slowly became worse as the show was overtaken by soap opera drama that was bad even for CW standards. I’d take a more light-hearted Super-family cartoon over that any day.
But Ultimately, the cartoon only exists as a “What if ?”, and I think it’s a shame that the pitch was passed up by the higher ups. It could have been a fun little cartoon that could have placed the spotlight of a bunch of underrated Superman characters.
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radicallyaligned · 8 months
Note
hi! i really like your style guides and i thought about you after having a convo with my girlfriend.
she says she really hates that in the summer she feels like she has nothing she enjoys wearing.
she usually goes for gender-neutral type clothing, HATES anything that is typically "girly" and i'd describe her style as very classic, "dark academia" (lots of sweaters, black pants, boots, fancy-looking coats) with a focus on darker shades (black and brown most of the time, which is probably what makes summer-dressing challenging for her). she honestly looks like a very attractive math teacher haha
even typing up "dark academia summer" on pinteret to give her some ideas the results i get use lighter shades like white or light brown, or dresses and short skirts which aren't exactly her cup of tea.
i'd like to find some inspo 'cause i promised her i'd take her shopping and help her find some clothes she'll love (which can also double as a nice date) but i'm struggling to find things i actually think she would wear irl 😅
Gender neutral, classic, dark, summer friendly, dark academia!! Nice!!
It is totally difficult to find dark academia that is summer friendly, as the aesthetic is built around October/November weather of the academic year! But it can be done in the summertime.
I'd recommend building some basics up first, that the vibe can be built on top of. Black, brown, or green (please consider greens!) short sleeve blouses can be made into a dark academia summery outfits. Add trouser shorts. Boom, you have your basic fit. Now tuck it in and add leather details (messenger bags, belts, shoes). Add suspenders. Add a thick headband or silk necktie. Boom. You're a summer dark academia woman.
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There are other summer friendly blouses that are outside of the basics, but would really cinch the desired aesthetic and go with all the same shorts and accessories. Wide armed long sleeves are breathable yet distinctly in aesthetic.
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Less common but such a vibe are Victorian style blouses - linens and cutouts and tastefully puffy sleeves. Picture them with hair tied back and accompanied with belts and trousers.
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Of course we have to give a nod to some of the archeological side of the dark academia aesthetic when shopping for unique pieces. I'm talking dark green oversized trousers and white linen buttondowns!! Nothing says summer like a Dino dig.
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If you're thinking more office girlie, I'd look for high necked short sleeve blouses in a thick, sturdy fabric. Accessorize the same as the rest.
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I hope this helps!
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sinsterdarling · 1 year
Text
my favs spending the holidays/ with you:
the family issues favs. on the third day of darling's winter, his true love gave to him... therapy!
gn! reader / sfw (fluff actually... for once haha) / lightly edited
ft. dabi, aki, sanji, and ghost
dabi from my hero academia:
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“why are we here?” dabi asks, covering most of his face with a mask and a hoodie. you glanced at him, picking up another decoration.
“for.. home decor and i want to do hot coco bombs tonight” you grin at him. dabi sighs following you throughout the craft store. you out multiple things in the cart. he would always offer to pay, saying that he’ll support all your ideas.
“i guess we can” dabi pushes the cart. you grab some wall art and couldn’t decide between them. he says he hates the holidays and all the traditions. but every year he looks foward to it. dabi never had these moments in his childhood.
the kisses near a fire, the presents under the tree. the warm soft lighting. dabi cuddles with you closer and you kiss his forehead. family was a hard topic for him but he’s never felt more loved then he was with you.
“what are we doing today? gingerbread?” dabi saw you were awake. you laugh and kiss him, he hums in the kiss. you saw the windows , the morning being more bright then usual. turning you look at outside.
“holy shit it’s snowing!” you turned your head back to him. dabi nods.
“yeah it’s been snowing for a while baby” he tells you.
“fuck a gingerbread, let’s go outside” your wide smile convinced him to go into the cold. holding your hand to warm you up. the red blush on his face from the cold which you teased him about.
he just smiled at you, seeing how cheerful you were. that was till you threw a snowball at his face. apologizing rapidly while dabi tackled you in the snow. you laugh and roll him over.
“thank you baby.. for everything this holiday.” dabi genuinely smiles. you stroke his cheek, feeling his scars and stables. you loved every piece of him, no matter how broken or whole he was. you stuck by his side.
aki from chainsaw man:
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aki’s family was killed just before the holidays, so every year it becomes some of his worst days. he felt like he was drowning in his own survivors guilt and revenge. some nights especially on the days closer to the holidays. he would cry all night long.
but he had gotten over it right? aki doubts it because everytime he sees a commercial of a happy family or anything of the sorts his heart stings. he can’t hide his emotion very well, being what you fell in love with him for.
you two started dating just right after them and when the days started to get colder aki started to sweat. you could see his clear stress and he had started to get more aggravated.
you knew his family history. you had comforted him during the late nights where he’ll cry in your arms.
“hey darling” you lean on the counter. he was sitting on the island. glancing up at you. fully paying attention to you.
“yeah baby?” he asks. you asked him how was he feeling. why was he so nervous, you could just tell from how he was. aki sighs looking down, he feels a little pathetic being so sad. he’s an adult, these holidays were for kids.
“oh no darling..” you walk around and sit next to him, embracing his cheeks. pressing your forehead to his. “you’re so valid for these feelings baby. i want you to know, if you want to do holidays. i’ll give you a tree, a stocking, i’ll even dress up as fucking santa clause” you stroke his cheek. he laughs and nods.
his lips trembled, glancing at you. “thank you” he struggles to say it without crying. he presses his head into your chest. wrapping your hands around his waist.
sanji from one piece:
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when you heard sanji talk about not really caring much for the holidays you had a suspicion that it had to do something with his family.
“have you been able to experience them?” you ask, him chopping the vegetables while you were cleaning them. he turns to you.
“no.. not really, i just didn’t find the reason to” sanji places the freshly cut vegetables on the bowl. you wrap your hands around his waist. he chuckles.
“we could get a tree and get a mistletoe” you kiss his neck. sanji laughs, placing his hand on your hip. “so you get even more kisses” you turn his head towards you and place a light kiss on his lips.
“thank you” sanji whispers. although he still struggles with self worth you make sure that every god damn day he’s loved. everyday you tell him how much you care for the cook.
in the past sanji would say he doesn’t mind spending them alone. sometimes one of the crew mates would stay behind and spend it with him. he would lie and say he has plans. sitting alone in the kitchen, seeing the lights outside the ship and the snow falling. the small groups of people, the hearing of laughter.
he was jealous, yet when you came into his life. you pulled him out of the ship. he was part of the small groups of people. you held his hand and pulled him close. the small clouds of cold air coming out of the both of your noses. now every year he looks forward to it, being able to make you a massive meal and give you something.
that mistletoe did not last staying in the same place for longer then a day. waking up you saw it was gone from the front door. looking around the bedroom you turned to see sanji holding it.
“i’m expecting something” sanji turns his cheek. you walk up to him and grip his chin. turning to fully kiss him. sanji nose bleeding a little dropping on your clothes.
ghost from call of duty:
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the holidays were whatever to ghost, he appreciated them but never actively bothered with it. but when he had met you, his world changed. he saw a reason besides being some killing machine. he wanted to propose when he came back.
ghost getting dropped off to his home he hadn’t seen for months. he glanced at the christmas lights on the house, the inflatable decorations, and the wreath on the front door. never before has he seen a house so bright and cheery before.
ghost looked at every decoration, and every light. he imagined you almost died a couple times hanging them. he knocks on the door, leaving his house key behind (yes you lectured him about it) you opened the door, seeing ghost.
“hello sweetheart, did-” you didn’t even let him finish. pulling his collar and kissing him. simon gently smiles and holds your waist. “that answers my question” simon looks behind you, seeing the tree. some ornaments filled the tree that were yours from past holidays but otherwise most of it was empty.
“i bought the tree, but i had wanted to save it for us to decorate together” you tell him. heading towards the tree, simon glanced at the couch. more holiday decorations. he’s never felt so holly and jolly before, it was a lot but it was good.
“i’m sorry if it’s a lot.. i uh just wanted to…” you couldn’t word it. not wanting to offend simon espically with his family history.
“to give me a real holiday?” he pecks you and you hold his hand. “thank you sweetheart. i love you” simon glanced at the bottom of the tree, MANY gifts were for him. a little sweat drop fell down his face realizing how many gifts he’ll have to get just to one up you. your marriage ring would be the first one he would buy.
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