#this person is not a person I choose to be around

[fanaticalthings]

I want an AU where after Jason gets brought back to life, he channels his inner rage and turmoil into the academics instead of murder

Talia has like infinite money and a crap ton of influence, so she can absolutely get Jason the best tutors and can easily get him into the most prestigious schools if Jason wanted to (she doesn't need to do that though because Jason's just smart enough to get into them on his own)

The major he chooses? Med.

Why? Because Bruce dropped out of med school.

Jason practically flies through all the secondary education that he needs to catch up on and is already en route to earning his bachelor's AND his master's.

And it'd be so incredibly funny if the way Bruce and Jason reunite in this AU was purely by coincidence.

Bruce (as Brucie Wayne) offers to show up as a guest lecturer at Hudson University (the school Dick attended but dropped out of so double points for Jason), maybe to talk about future career paths and job positions at WE idk

So as Bruce is just wandering around the campus, he randomly bumps into a student and immediately puts on the Brucie act and is all "Oh my, I'm SO sorry, I'm just a klutz haha" only to stop dead silent when he makes eye contact with a very alive, very grown Jason Todd, who also stops dead in his tracks, mouth agape, staring at Bruce like the world's about to end

And before Bruce can get his thoughts straight, Jason just bolts out of there like his life depends on it, and Bruce is just in shambles for the rest of the day.

It doesn't help that the person giving Bruce the tour is all like "Oh yeah, that's Jason, he's one of the heads on our student council haha, anyways, this way, Mr. Wayne." and Bruce is just stood there bluescreening.

----

Alternatively, it'd be kinda funny if this all happened AFTER the events of UTRH where after the final encounter with Bruce and Joker and the whole explosion, Jason's just like "yk what, maybe I'm just gonna turn over a new leaf and pursue a higher education"

So while Gotham's still reeling from the aftermath of Jason's near takeover as the top crime lord and Bruce is still painstakingly trying to figure out where his son went, the whole time Jason's just been chilling on a school campus and Bruce just so happens to bump into his son (who, last time they met, tried to kill Bruce and blew up the building they were all in) and Jason's just all normal-looking with his textbooks and nerdy glasses and Bruce doesn't know whether to scream or cry.

#Bruce not thinking and immediately grabbing student!Jason's arm #Jason (being the little shit he is): *screaming at the top of his lungs* THIS BILLIONAIRE IS TRYING TO KIDNAP ME #Bruce internally: ok yeah thats definitely my son #jason todd #bruce wayne #batdad #red hood #Bruce trying to corner Jason later that day: can we PLEASE talk? #jason: (being obnoxiously loud) WHY?? so you can induct me into your PYRAMID SCHEME? so you can trap me into your CAPITALISTIC businesses?? #bruce panicking: jason please #Jason: WHO is Jason #Then he pulls a tire iron outta his bag and whacks Bruce with it before running away #just like old times lol #talia showing up one night during patrol and smugly showing off Jason's diplomas and acheivements #talia: he has my fake last name on all his certificates and records. #talia: im just SO proud of my son #bruce crying: please stop #batfamily #batfam #batman #dc #incorrect quotes #crack #fanatical posting

[rikstar]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Paper hearts ! NSH.R

Synopsis ୨୧ In which you've kept receiving Paper hearts in your locker with little messages written on it by a Person who goes by "R". Little did you know that they're from the Japanese Transfer student who always sits in the back of your class , keeping to himself.

Contains ୨୧ Highschool!Au, Riki can't express his emotions well, Reader is imagined to be shorter than him and dressing hyperfeminine, Family issues Crying , Romance , kissing

Wc ୨୧ 4.1k

(A/n) : not proofread so there will be grammatical errors. Comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated 💗

"Another one?", you quietly mumbled under your breath — a pink heart shaped piece of paper falling out of your locker as you opened it. You crouched to pick it up , turning it around and smiling softly to yourself as you read the message.

"Remember to drink some water today , make sure to eat some good food as well. Stay healthy - R"

In the beginning , when this all started , you felt a little creeped out — yes , the messages were cute but they were also implying that this person was watching you. They could be some creepy stalker , but they could also be someone who was just genuinely too shy to talk to you , so you just kept your guard up. It's been around 5 Months since you've started to receive those paper hearts , mostly having a message written on them and sometimes they were just empty — it's something small , but it was something you grew to look forward to. But who was this Person?

With a smile tugged on your lips , you put the paper hearts into the front pocket of your bag , making sure they won't get demolished before you took your books out of the locker and closing it. A small gasp escaped your lips as you turned around , being met by a chest right in front of your face as you almost bumped into them — looking up to see a pair of cold dark eyes staring into your soul , a shiver running down your spine. "Sorry...", you mumbled slightly embarrassed , a hum coming from them as you stepped to the side and let them access to their own locker.

You eyed him with a puzzled look before shaking your head and quickly making your way to your classroom. Nishimura Riki , he was like a riddle for you — he never talked to anyone in your class , he was quiet and kept to himself , he always had that intense glare in his eyes as if he doesn't want anyone to approach him. The only people he'd talk to were Taki and Maki — Taki from your parallel class and Maki who was a year under you. You couldn't read him at all , he was just so.... mysterious and intimidating.

You quietly greeted your classmates with a smile as you stepped into your classroom ,some of your classmates already being there as you made your way to your seat in the front — the bows in your hair bouncing with each step you took followed by the sounds of the keychains on your bag jingling. Riki soon followed after you , his headphones around his neck — putting them back on without uttering a word as your classmates greeted him to which he just nodded before plopping down on his seat in the back by the window. It was like , as if he wasn't even there.

"You're not going to eat lunch with us? But we have an one hour break! You'll have enough time to study after eating something", your friend tried to persuade you , her hand resting on your arm but you shook your head with a small smile. "I'll eat plenty after school , I really need to study for this upcoming exam so I should use my free time to do so", your friend just sighed at your response , her hand sliding off your arm. "Alright... but if you do choose to eat something , you know where to find us".

The library was quiet and almost empty as you entered it , looking around a little to find a spot and you swore you saw a familiar tuff of hair in the corner — black hair that appeared blue when the sun shone down on it , but you quickly shook your head, why would Riki be in here? He never really studied for the exams yet always aced them without much effort. You went to your signature spot and immediately started to study for the upcoming exam , being so focused that you failed to notice a pair of eyes watching you.

His eyes were intensively staring at you , his hand lifting the manga he was reading a little more up to make it seem like he was reading when he was actually busy staring at you. He felt like a creep , but you were just so pretty in his eyes , like a piece of art that pulled him into a trance. A small smile tugged on the corners of his lips as he watched the way your eyebrows furrowed , chewing on your pen as you tried to study all by yourself — that smile turned into a sad one , you always worked so hard , too hard. He wished he had he courage to approach you , but it always felt like as if he was losing the ability to speak or form proper sentences whenever you stood in front of him , just like this morning. A small sigh left his lips , pondering about what to do before he reached into his bag , a pink piece of paper in his hand — tearing it into a heart shape before he got his pen out and started to write something down.

He looked up one last time , making sure you weren't seeing him before he quickly disappeared into the hallways. His feet carried him to the snack machine with long struts , looking at all the different snacks to see what you might like and praying that he made the right pick — pressing the number and inserting coins into the coin slot , bending down to reach into the compartment and taking out the bar of chocolate. He would have done his usual routine , walking to the lockers , pretend to be on his own locker that was conveniently right above yours and secretly slipping the paper heart into your locker — but since the chocolate bar was too big for the slot , he opted to putting the note with the chocolate bar on your desk. Luckily , no one was in the classroom so no one will ever find out that it was him — quickly walking out of the classroom and going to look for his friends.

"Hm? Another one?", you mumbled as you saw the familiar paper heart on your desk, this time , with a chocolate bar — just what you needed. You gently picked up the note , your heart swelling as you read the message.

"I don't want to see you skipping lunch again , it's important to eat. Please stay healthy and also make sure to drink enough today :( - R"

Your curiosity only grew as you wanted to know who this person was , a small smile growing on your face as you sat down and unpacked the chocolate bar , letting the sweet treat melt on your taste buds as you chewed on it. Unbeknownst to you, Riki was looking at you through the open door as he walked past the classroom with Taki and Maki , a faint smile visible on his face.

You shivered as you sat on the swing on the empty playground, the moon shining down on you in the cold night — cursing to yourself for not bringing a jacket with you. Another fight with your parents and obviously , it was school related , like always — your parents only seemed to care about your grades , nothing else. Not knowing what to do after the fight , you just escaped even though you knew that you'd get another earful for going out late at night , but you didn't care as long as you got a little bit of freedom.

Your eyes were just looking ahead of you, spacing out as you enjoyed the night — until someone appeared in front of you , waving their hand in front of your face. You quickly snapped out of it , your eyes trailing up until you were met with their face , Riki? The two of you stared at each other until Riki awkwardly cleared his throat , looking to the side to find anything he could look at while his hands were nonchalantly tugged in his pockets. "So uhm.... what are you doing here at this time?", Riki mumbled , his voice so quiet that you almost didn't hear him. "Just enjoying the night..", you replied with a small smile , this was the first time he was actually talking with you. "Doesn't seem like that , something is bothering you", his reply surprised you , were you that obvious? The sand underneath Riki's feet made faint sounds as he walked over to the other swing , sitting down on it with his feet on the sand while yours were dangling a little above it.

"Why are you even out so late? It's almost 11pm", your voice was soft as you asked him, titling your head a little to look at him while your hands were holding onto the cold chains of the swing. "I got hungry and wanted a little snack , but don't switch topics", Riki replied , shaking the pocket of his jacket a little and you could hear the sound of plastic rustling. His eyes were intensively staring at you , sending shivers down your spine as they were almost piercing through you. "It's nothing much , really. My parents just bothered me again because of my grades", you gaze was fixated down to the sand , mindlessly leaning your foot down and drawing little patterns in the sand. "Your grades? But they're literally just straight A's ? Is that why you're always studying during lunch break?", he knew? You looked back up to him with a puzzled expression , his face emotionless until he realized his slip up and coughed a little. "Well I mean, I never see you during lunch break so I just guessed..", his voice trailed off a little , his gaze moving away from yours.

"But seriously , your grades are practically perfect", upon hearing his reply , you just sighed and shook your head. "Apparently not good enough", you could hear him muttering "ridiculous" under his breath , the sound of a plastic bag being opened rang in your ears , said plastic bag being held out to you with a small shake. "Want some?"

"Sure , thank you"

Ever since then , Riki started to talk more with you ,sometimes even keeping you company while you were studying during lunch break since in his words "it must be lonely to study all alone while everyone is eating". You've learned to realize that Riki wasn't like you thought , he just couldn't express himself well — he wasn't cold or emotionless , he liked to keep to himself because of shit that happened back when he was younger and blindly trusting people , he liked to play basketball and soccer , he held a strong affection towards cats and liked to microwave his strawberries. He was strange but in an endearing way.

"Don't you think that you've studied enough? You need to eat at least something", Riki asked as he had his chopsticks in his mouth , nudging his head a little towards your text book, sitting across from you. "It's fine , I'm not really hu—", as if on cue , your stomach grumbled making the two of you stare at each other in silence until he let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head a little as he slid his bento box in the middle. He picked up a small rice ball with his chopsticks , his other hand cupped underneath in case the rice ball would slip between the two sticks and drop down as he guided it towards you. "Open your mouth", he mumbled , the rice ball right in front of your mouth , your lips parting as you leaned your head a little forward and took the rice ball into your mouth — and god did it taste good.

"My mom makes the best food", he grinned slightly , watching as you did your little happy dance while eating the ball of rice while humming to yourself. "It really does taste good ..", You replied , your eyes gazing at this bento box, seeing him moving the bento box closer to you and holding his chopsticks out. "Have the rest of it , I don't really eat much", you gave him a bright smile followed by a small thank you , grabbing his chopsticks and digging into bento box. He watched you a little , his chin resting on the palm of his face before he looked away , a small blush spreading through his cheeks — you looked so adorable doing your little happy dance while eating and you ate from his chopsticks, his chopsticks that he previously had in his mouth making it an indirect kiss. An indirect kiss... Riki smiled a little to himself , internally kicking his feet and twirling his hair.

"Tell your mom that she's a good cook , I'm so full now", you patted your belly a little , your belly now filled and happy with the delicious food Riki let you eat — a small chuckled coming from Riki as he nodded and hummed before the bell rang. "Let's go", Riki nudged his head a little , signaling for you to grab your stuff as he stood up.

.

"Wait , I need to go to my locker", Riki stopped in his tracks , turning his body a little to watch as you opened your lockers , his heart fluttering when he saw the smile spreading on your face as you spotted the note he left while he was gone "using the toilet" but he was actually writing and slipping another note in your locker — where his notes really making you that happy?

"I'm proud of you..", you muttered under your breath as you read the note , your heart getting warmer — if only your parents would say the same to you. You quickly slipped the note into your pocket to keep it secure , putting your text books into the locker before the two of you went back to class.

Your hands were shaking as you received your test back , your parents are going to be so mad at you. You felt the tears starting to well up in your eyes , sure , a C+ was a dream for others but for you , it would mean hell. Riki observed you from the back , his eyebrows a little furrowed in worry as he saw the way your hands were shaking and how you put the piece of paper on your table in a defeated way. He could see the fat "C+" written on your paper , wasn't that good? But from what you told him , your parents were really strict when it came to academics, but he didn't know that they were so strict that it left you trembling like that.

How he wished he could just hug you , but he didn't had the courage to do so. The teacher momentarily left the classroom to copy something , she'd be back in 15 minutes considering the printer was all the way on the other side — his feet carrying him over to you. His hand came in contact with your shoulder , hesitantly rubbing your shoulder gently as he crouched down next to your seat so he could see your face. Your hair was covering your face a little , his hand moving without thinking as he tucked the strands of hair behind your ear. "Please don't cry.. it's going to be okay", Riki mumbled , your eyes widening a little as his thumb rubbed against your cheek, wiping away the tears that started to roll down your cheek without you realizing. "They're going to be so mad..", you whispered , closing your eyes to stop yourself from crying while Riki gently wiped your tears away. "Do you.. want to go to my place after school? So you can be a little distracted ..?", Riki offered , your breath hitching a little by his offer. Honestly , it sounded nice but your parents might get even more mad if you don't go back home after school immediately.

.

"Do you think they'll buy the lie?", You asked with a small sigh , feeling bad about lying to your parents but you really needed that distraction before all hell would break down on you — lying to your parents that you'd be going to the library to study more. "Of course they will , don't worry too much", Riki replied , glancing down at you , his arm bend back over his shoulder ,the strap of his bag hanging off his hand as his bag occasionally bumped against his back. His house wasn't far from the school , already reaching his home after 10 minutes — this was the first time you'd be at his place or even hanging out after school , realizing that his house was right across the playground.

He unlocked the door and held it open for you , stepping in after you and taking his shoes off as he loudly talked in his mother tongue — right , you forgot that he was Japanese. You followed after him and greeted his mother who was sitting on the couch with two other girls , greeting them as well with a shy smile before following Riki to his room. His room was surprisingly clean , there were a couple skateboards hung on his white wall, some posters off basketball players hanging on his wall , his bed was right by the window and pretty huge. He also had a gaming pc on his desk , a couch in front of the end of his bed and a TV hanging on his wall.

"Feel free to sit wherever you want", Riki said as he saw you looking around his room , seemingly looking calm but he felt like as if his heart was about to burst right out of his chest. "Okay..", you set your bag down and moved to sit on his bed , jumping a little as something popped up from the couch , a dog? The dog was curiously looking at you , it's tail wagging behind it as it was standing up on the couch with its front paws on the edge of it. "Ah , there you are Bisco", Riki walked over to the couch , picking Bisco up and setting the small dog down on the bed. The dog sniffed you a little before licking your hand which made you giggle. "Is it a girl or a boy?", You asked with a soft smile on your face as you gently pat the dog , looking up to see Riki just staring with a puzzled look. "ehh yeaaah let me ask my mom real quick", his reply made you giggle , he didn't know what gender his dog was? "I think a girl.... or a boy? Or was Bisco a girl..?", Riki mumbled a little before shaking his head. "Doesn't matter , Bisco is Bisco".

The next hours went by so quickly that it felt like as if only 10 minutes passed by the time it was 7pm, you wished you could stop the time. You didn't want to go back home yet but you knew that you needed. "You know ... you can call me if anything happens , i'm here for you", Riki said as he looked down to you , running a hand through his hair as stood by the door to his goodbyes to you. "I know , thank you. Also , thank you for inviting me over and distracting me", you smiled at him , your smile so pretty to him that he was almost swept away , mumbling a quiet "No problem".

His eyebrow twitched as he glared at the front , his glare so piercing that it could kill. "What the actual fuck" was what Riki thought as he watched that Ricky dude talking to you , pretending that he was the one slipping the heart shaped notes into your locker. What a scam. If he could , he would just go over to you and tell you that it was him and not Ricky — but he couldn't , he didn't had the courage to. Why was he such a wimp? He grumbled to himself a little , finally having enough when he saw that Ricky was about to your arm as he walked over to you. "Sorry , gotta steal her for second", Riki grumbled , taking your hand and dragging you away from Ricky. "Is something wrong?", You asked Riki , he never acted like that , worried that you did something wrong.

"It's nothing , I just feel icky with him around you. He's bad news", You titled your head a little at his reasoning , shaking your head with a small giggle. "Don't be silly , he was the one writing those sweet notes to me. He can't be bad news", Riki let out a harsh sigh , feeling a little frustrated. "No , he's not the one. I saw who put the notes in your locker and it certainly was not Ricky". "What? Then why have you never told me?". "Because they want to keep their identity hidden until they're ready to reveal themself to you", you nodded at his words a little , glancing back to Ricky with an unsure look. Why would he lie to you like that?

"Alright , thanks for telling me", you looked up to him , a small smile on your face before you froze slightly — Riki stepped closer to you , his hands reaching to your head as he fixed your ribbons. "Your Ribbons were getting loose".

.

Riki finally made his mind up , he clearly was having some competition with this guy — he decided to put his big boy pants on and finally reveal himself and confess to you. He quickly reached into his bag , tearing another pink note into a heart shape and quickly writing something down before secretly slipping it into your locker as he was pretending to do something on his own.

His heart was pounding as he did that , he just hoped that you would come.

.

"Meet me by the cherry blossom tree after school :) - R"

Was it finally happening ? Where you finally going to meet the person behind all the notes? Your heart was pounding with anticipation as you got closer to the cherry blossom tree , trying to see if anyone was there yet. Pink petals of the cherry blossom tree were dancing around in the air as you finally reached it , looking around to see if anyone was coming until a hand touched your shoulder. Before you could turn around , they covered your eyes. "You came..", his voice was deep and familiar , your breath hitching slightly — was this Riki..?

It has to be Riki , no one else you knew had a voice that deep and wore the same cologne that was lingering in the air but before you could utter anther word, he shushed you. "I'm sorry for keeping this from you.. I'm not the best at expressing myself. (Y/n), i fell in love with you. You always seemed so intimidated by me so I was afraid that I'd scare you off if I had approached you just like that ; so I started to leave notes in your locker. Every compliment , every reminder , everything i've said , I mean them. Word for word. I'm sorry that I didn't had the courage to straight up tell you , I was scared that I'd fumble with my words and mess everything up", he slowly removed his hand from your eyes , letting you turn around.

Your heart was pounding as you looked up to him , your cheeks getting warmer as you saw the soft flush spreading through his cheeks, his eyes lovingly gazing down to you. "Do you mean it? What pushed you to suddenly reveal yourself to me now?", your voice was soft as you spoke , almost as soft as the soft pink petals from the cherry blossom tree. "I mean it , everything. That Ricky guy... something in me snapped when he pretended like as if he was the one behind all the notes. I guess that was the push that I needed , I was afraid that he would take you from me without giving me a chance to at least confess to you".

"You're so silly. Even if it would've been Ricky , I would've still chosen you. I'm saying that I feel the same , ever since we've been getting closer , I've realized that I was starting to fall for you as well", a soft smile grazed your lips , your words shooting cupid arrows right into his heart with the way it fluttered . "Can I ... kiss you?", his question was slightly hesitant , unsure if he was going too fast or not but he couldn't help himself , relief washing over him when you nodded.

His fingers found their way to your chin , gently titling your head up as he stepped closer and leaned his head down — your hands holding onto his arms to keep yourself balanced as sparks exploded in your belly. His lips were so soft and gentle , kissing you so softly that it was almost featherlight. Your lips were still tingling as he pulled away , his lips a little glossy from your strawberry lip gloss.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, I will never stop leaving those notes in your locker"

#enhypen x reader #enha x you #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enha fanfic #enha x reader #enha fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen fic #enhypen niki x reader #enhypen niki fluff #enhypen niki ff #enhypen riki x reader #niki x reader #enhypen niki #niki fluff #niki fanfic #riki fluff #riki x reader #riki fanfic

[svtswhorehouse]

OT 13 : edging vs overstimulation

Seungcheol : overstimulation. honestly, i feel as if he’s the type of person to use it as a punishment. ya’ll would probably go through like a hundred different positions and he’ll make you cum with every single one before he can switch to the next. would hit you with that faux sympathy and imitate a pouty face when he slows down to check on you. when you say you’re okay, he’ll slam back into you again. won’t stop until you use your safe word, but will take a break if you really need it. needs to see your mascara running, desperate doe eyes, and fucked out expression the entire time.

Jeonghan : edging. oh baby, good luck with this one. A MENACE. would probably do it for hours until you’re crying and a babbling mess. he lowkey gets off on how pathetic and dumb you get for him. likes being begged, so he might gaslight you into thinking you don’t want it as much as you say you do which will make you even more desperate. the type to use anything from his tongue, to his dick, to toys — you’ve grown to hate vibrators overtime. also another one who would fake being sympathetic and imitate your sad face. he would probably play dumb like “what baby? why are you crying?” he’s a meanie overall, and will do it just for fun but he’ll make you feel good so don’t you worry your pretty little head.

Joshua : edging. he’s honestly such a sweet and caring person, but he’s also friends with jeonghan and apart of the 95’ line so what do you expect. some days he would choose to be nice, but other days he would decide to be a tease. honestly, not that bad though. he would only do it for a little while before deciding you’ve had enough. lowkey likes it when you cry. he has the biggest hands in seventeen so he utilizes them a lot, especially when it comes to you. enjoys the way you clench around them whenever he stops. he definitely takes time to examine your face which a teasing smile and ask you “what’s wrong,” even though he knows he’s being an ass.

Jun : edging. tbh, does it just to laugh and be a little shit. will be fingering you, pull away really quickly and look back up at you with a smile on his face. will probably be like “ha, you thought,” or “gotcha.” let’s out the cutest giggle whenever he does it that sometimes it’s difficult for you to be mad at him. does it a few times before you smack him on his shoulder and threaten him with no pussy for a week. will definitely let you cum after that.

Hoshi : overstimulation. HOSHI IS A MUNCH AND NO ONE CAN CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE. would probably choose to live between your thighs if you let him tbh. def eats pussy like he’s a starved man and it’s his last meal he’ll ever have. probably enjoys it more than you do. you can push him away all you want, but he’ll come right back (will literally beg you if that’s what it takes, he loves pussy). main dancer and his stamina is insane, so he doesn’t mean to overstimulate you really, he can just go for hours. you would definitely have to take breaks in between rounds with this one.

Wonwoo : edging. finds it amusing. might tie you up, just to keep you still whenever he decides to go to town on your pussy. he’ll shoot you a little smirk from time to time which will end up pissing you off because he def knows he’s being an asshole. prefers to edge you with his cock, he likes the way your pussy flutters around it whenever he stops. also, his favorite time to do it is whenever he’s gaming. he’ll have you sit on his cock and have you do all the work while he plays a video game. it’s only when your whines start getting louder and movements start to get fast when he’ll place a firm hand on your hip and hold you in place. loves when you look at him all teary eyed, but still promises he’ll make you feel good after. no one said how long his game was gonna last though so good luck.

Woozi : wild card. depends on what HE feels like. you have no say. you just shut your mouth and look pretty for him. if he’s stressed he’ll edge you, but if he needs a mental break or something, he’ll overstimulate you. will definitely happen in his studio the most, just cause that’s where most of his stress leads back to — writing and producing. enjoys cockwarming while he works, but if you’re being stubborn and moving too much, he’ll decide to fuck and overstimulate you. will be like “i thought this is what you wanted baby? couldn’t stay still cause you wanted my cock so bad hm?”

Dokyeom : overstimulation. he’s just happy to please overall. also another one that doesn’t mean to overstimulate you. he just wants to make you feel good and when you try and push him away, he just might look at you with puppy dog eyes. also loves when you sit on his face, he feels like he can be as messy as he wants. asks why you’re crying, but not in a mocking type of way, he just genuinely doesn’t know that it feels too good that it’s getting hard to hold yourself up. it’s a good thing he’s strong.

Mingyu : overstimulation. i feel like he has an oral fixation and cures it by eating you out tbh. this big and beefy man specifically loves it when you sit on his face. if you hover over him for a second too long, he’s pulling you down and holding you in place. obviously he’s ridiculously strong so when you try and pull away, he doesn’t let you. will gaslight you into thinking you can take one more, even if it’s the hundredth time and you’ll agree just because it feels too good to say no. will cage you in with his arms and fucks you so good you wouldn’t be able to utter an audible sentence. likes when yours eyes get all dazed and it looks as if there’s not a thought in your head. he’ll be on a mission to make you squirt.

Minghao : edging. says that you need to practice patience ???? might use it as a learning experience for you ???? might make you want to kill him after ???? lmao. i feel as if he’s more likely to deny your orgasm completely than to edge you. like he would edge for a bit, but overall wouldn’t let you cum. he says it’s to learn to be more patient, but really he just enjoys how desperate and whiny you get after. will definitely fuck you nice and good when y’all get in bed for the night. might tease you by edging you once, but when tears start to brim your eyes, he’ll let up. just, be a good girl for him and don’t piss him off.

Seungkwan : edging. honestly, he’s sweet with it. will check in on you often and make sure you’re doing okay. seungkwan’s favorite way of edging you is by literally having you grind on his thigh. he enjoys how easy it is to get you off and likes to see his skin coated with your slick. also, he def knows his quads are strong af so why would you not wanna ride his thigh? will mutter words of encouragement and praise, even when he stops your movements. knows that him shaking his leg really helps so he’ll stop moving altogether when he feels like you’re getting close. a sucker for your tears so he might give in if you play your cards right.

Vernon : honestly, whatever you want. goes with the flow and the mood. vernon is the type of guy who might let you take the lead. if you wanted to dom for the night then okay. if you wanted to fuck in a bathroom then okay. if you wanted to be edged or overstimulated then he will help you. won’t do it as a punishment, but it’s also not something that he thinks of. you might have to bring it up or give him hints before he can act on it. you might also have to control it so like when you think you’re gonna cum you might have to push him away, or if you want to be overstimulated, just take the lead and hold him close.

Dino : overstimulation. another main dancer right here. he has a lot of energy in him. you would want it as much as he’s happy to give it though. y’all are definitely the type of couple to fuck like two bitches in heat. he would be on a mission to either see how many surfaces y’all could fuck on or how many rounds he’s capable of going which will therefore lead to you getting overstimulated. honestly, doesn’t mean to overstimulate you he just gets a little excited. will apologize after and be so soft with you though so it’s okay.

#seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen angst #seventeen reactions #svt reactions #svt imagines #jeonghan x reader #seungkwan x reader #seungcheol x reader #joshua x reader #hoshi x reader #soonyoung x reader #jun x reader #junhui x reader #jihoon x reader #woozi x reader #wonwoo x reader #seokmin x reader #dokyeom x reader #minghao x reader #mingyu x reader #vernon x reader #dino x reader #chan x reader #svtswhorehouse #mingyu smut #scoups x reader

[qfitpac]

Final thoughts on the Qsmp finale: I think it was incredibly disappointing and disrespectful at every turn, and as with many things in the qsmp I think they could have put in 100x less effort for 100x more reward.

I wish they had just let the islanders freely roam around and say goodbye to their old builds instead of forcing them into a weird and unrelated mini game. For gods sake, Pac and Fit never made it to Chume Labs to see it one last time.

The museum was nice but how about crediting all the people who made those models and assets that were on display? Contrasted with the properly credited fanart it really showed how little the studio values its workers.

It's clear to me that they cared more about getting in that final spectacle (I think there's a good chance a lot of those assets and mobs were originally made for purgatory 3) and leaving the story open for a possible QSMP 2 than actually giving their ccs a chance to give their characters an ending. Watching it all I couldn't help thinking, was the person who built this paid? Was this cinematic made by someone who was compensated for their time? Did the studio give them enough time to make these or was it, as shown before, a rushed and stressful process with an impossible deadline?

The egg video in particular was in incredibly poor taste. After all that the egg admins went through, letting them go without even a thank you let alone actually properly crediting them and paying them, then to just choose their ending for them? Using not just the models (was the person who made those paid?) but aspects of the personalities that the egg admins developed (Ramon's meathead, pepitos plushie, etc)? Come on.

The finale was, and I say this with all possible negative connotations, very in character for a studio that has repeatedly shown that it cares more about visuals and the next big thing than anything else, including the admins and ccs that make it possible. It was flat and convoluted and the only thing that made it watchable was as always the talent and versatility of the players.

I hope there is no qsmp 2. I really do. I don't think it's worth it to keep this brand alive after all the people who have been hurt by it. I'd love to see another server use the real-time translation mod, I'd love to see most of this group of creators make something together, but I don't think it should be under quackity or his studio's control. They've clearly shown that they cannot be trusted to treat their workers properly, to support this big of a project, or to be focused on making a place for creators to tell their own stories the way they want to.

#qsmp #Qsmp neg #Rants

[bitchlessdino]

Imagine Chubby!reader and best friend!Chan chooses a movie for the night and this one just happened to have a sex scene, several in fact. Chan can do nothing but hide his furiously red cheeks in his palms as he watches, while you quietly observe as the female lead jumps from the ground, wrapping her legs around the male lead before they initiating intimacy while standing. “That looks…interesting.”

“Interesting?” Chan repeats in a weighted breath. “Is that something you’re interested in?”

“Maybe.” You go on a mini tangent of not sure when you’d ever have that moment being self aware of your fuller stature. You don’t think much of it, but you admit that one day if it came to the right person, it wouldn’t feel so bad to be manhandled like that.

Chan’s blush grows deeper and his mind wanders, thinking about the day you’ll finally find someone strong enough to hold you the way the actor did, and that it wouldn’t be Chan.

So he decided to get stronger, build muscle, lift weights, and prove that he could be that person, and fighting all his internal voices. He thinks to himself if anyone’s gonna do it, it should be him. For a while he shows great potential.

The day you notice is the day Chan is the most confident. You caress his toned form, feel the pulse beneath his taut biceps and firm chest. You gaze in awe, not recognizing him so much from the man he was more than a couple weeks ago. “Wow, you’re taking the pre workout seriously, I see.”

He is beaming, flexing his fingers to loosen them up. “Yeah, so I could do this.”

He lowers himself lightly to push up from your thighs and lift you around him, gushing at you stumbling to regain balance. Your eyes shooting back at him like saucers, unsure now if he is going to drop you to the ground like a sack of potatoes. “Lee Chan!”

Chan held you with certainty, caressing your side, your legs crushing around him, feeling your heart pound to the beat of his. He grins as if he’s finally won his prize and now he gets to take it home. “Now let’s get you all comfortable.”

His move to act suave falls short when he takes a misstep and crashes you both into the couch. Panic in his eyes as he asks you if you’re hurt and swears on his life he didn’t mean for it to happen.

You can’t help but laugh, eyes creasing in comforting bliss before pull Chan by his chin and drawing a long and overdue kiss. “Let’s try that again. And you don’t have to carry me this time.”

His hands grip your waist, fiery determination in his eyes. “Don’t worry, I can and I will.”

#dino smut #seventeen smut #seventeen #Lee Chan smut #lee Chan imagines #Dino imagines #seventeen imagines #dino #Lee Chan #seventeen Dino #dino x reader #dino x you #dino x y/n

[lichenes]

Velvet Ring

There's only one bed! And nightmares choose to not let you live them down. Prompt by the lovely @smdb-joost :D CW: nightmares, mutual pining<333, confessions, brief mention of kissin wc: 800

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••────────•°•❀•°•────────•

“Shit, uhhh what do we do now?” Joost said as you both entered the room. “Uhh… I’m assuming I'm taking the floor?” He laughed.

Giving the fact that you and Joost have been friends for a long time you didn’t mind sharing a bed but when he suggested taking the floor, a small piece of you thought about all the ‘accidental’ touches, his sweet smiles which seemed only brighter when directed towards you and the way he looked at you when he was sure you weren’t. You hoped for the cheesy fantasy to come true so you could finally admit your feelings for him, hoping he’d reciprocate.

“So what’ll be?” You asked, leaving it up to him to decide. “The floor ‘s fine.” You felt your heart sink but you didn’t lose hope yet. You both showered, admittedly - separately and took your places. 

“Goodnight!” 

You were surrounded by your loved ones, your friends, yet- why… why did you feel so alone, so… unwanted. ‘What was it that gave you the idea to come here and ruin all of this for us?!’ You heard opting to not answer the remark and instead shield another part of yourself from others. ‘I can’t look at you anymore, you disgust me.’ Said a familiar voice which soon manifested as Joost’s form with a malevolent grin on his face. ‘You’re nothing.’

You gasped as your body rose to accomodate for the sudden pain which you couldn’t quite place as physical nor mental. You put your hand to your chest and realised you were heaving. Joost called your name from the foot of the bed. “What’s wrong?” You crawled from under the sheets towards him. “‘s nothing, just a n…” Your voice got stuck in your throat. “Nightmare.”

“D’you need to talk about it?” You looked at him with pleading eyes. “Can you please just hold me, please?” 

You were both lying on the bed, his arm around your waist, both spent from the day you had. You were more tired than ever, trying to keep your eyes open just to feel Joost’s warmth for a moment more.With the other hand he was tracing lazy patterns into your scalp. “You know you can tell me anything…” He said clearly expecting something from you. 

‘Not yet’ you thought. ‘Not just yet.’ 

“I know.”

You spent the rest of the night sleeping soundly. His strong arms gave away a pleasant heat which was comforting. You woke up feeling well rested which was a new but not an unwelcome feeling. “Hey, I just wanted to apologise for forcing you to comfort me yesterd- well, tonight.” 

He grinned at you with his usual charming smile which made your face get just a bit hotter. “You really didn’t force me, I was just helping a friend out.” A friend? No. You were more than that. You were stars, the moon itself, the way aurora borealis cast itself over the night sky. How could he ever convey that through words?

He saw them, the signs of your affection. The silly presents, the small touches, the playlists full of his songs, the love that radiated from you. Yet still he was unsure of your intentions, your feelings.

Next night went about as well as it could’ve. Joost still on the floor invited you jokingly to join him on the floor and you, as a joke - of course - did. “It’s not very comfortable, don’t you want to get on the bed?” You both decided after a while that actually, your idea was brilliant. 

You settled into the bed and so did Joost giving just enough space for the lord. You signed and scooted slightly towards him. He followed suit and put his arm around your waist staying mindful of your personal space so as to not scare you off. “Joost you can…” Your voice got stuck in your throat once more. “Alright!” He said enthusiastically, bringing you closer to himself. Your face got seriously hot when you could feel his breath on your neck and his eyes on you. 

“Wanna tell me something?” He said as if he knew and could feel your growing anxiety. “Joost.” You started. “I’ve been…” You couldn’t speak, your knees went weak despite you laying down. “Joost. I lo-” He interrupted kissing you deeply. You reciprocated the kiss not wanting to lose another minute without his touch on your body.

The kiss left you breathless and he looked even more content when you pulled back. “I need you. I need you so badly in my life.” You said, sounding increasingly desperate. “You know I need you too.” You went back for another kiss. That night you spent in his arms, this time not by chance but choice. His voice still echoing in your ears ‘I need you too..’

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••────────•°•❀•°•────────•

masterlist

#x reader #joost klein x you #joost klein x reader #joost klein fanfic #joost x reader #joost klein #eurovision 2024 #eurovision #fluff

[torasplanet]

❝𝙏𝘼𝙇𝙆 𝙏𝙊 𝙈𝙀.ᐟ❞

C. MATSUNO + F. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; you get so wet when you're cockwarming your boyfriend that your pussy starts talking to him!

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; smut, baji cockblocking you, cockwarming, riding, p in v, gamer!chifuyu, chifuyu's kinda mean, crying, pretty vanilla ig, clit play?? skin color not mentioned

Chifuyu had been playing this game forever and you were getting so tired of it! You had to sit in the living room because he was being so loud screaming at Baji to stop screaming at him and telling Kazutora to do something you didn’t care about and yet you could still hear him.

It wasn’t fair, he was annoying you while you were just sitting on the couch with an aching feeling between your legs which was widely different from the aching in your head from all his yelling. You knew chifuyu liked to have time to himself to game and whatever but why did he choose now of all times when you’re probably the horniest person in the entire world right now?

You tried to get friction on the arm of the couch but it didn’t work. You need your boyfriend but he was too busy yelling at his friends to help you. Whatever, you didn’t care. If you wanted dick, that’s what you were going to get.

You walked down the hallway to your and his shared bedroom and peeked through the slightly cracked door staring at your boyfriend as he typed on his keyboard so much focus on his face before pushing it open the door creaking and echoing throughout the house. His green eyes blinked up at you and he flashed a gentle smile “Hey pretty.” Your boyfriend said before looking back at the screen.

“Is it that [Y/n]!? Tell her I said hi!” “Yeah!” You heard Kazutora and Baji scream from Chifuyu’s headset as you leaned against the doorframe. Chifuyu chuckled under his breath before looking at you and gesturing you to come over “The guys said hi.” He told you while you walked over to him wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning over his frame as he sat in his gaming chair.

“Hey guys.” You said your lips close to the headset so they could hear you before pressing a kiss to Chifuyu’s cheek making him grin while you ignored everything else the other two guys said about the game. Soon your cheek kisses moved down to his jaw, then his neck, and then you started to move his shirt around a bit to kiss at his shoulder blades biting at the skin a bit.

Chifuyu’s body grew stiff and his eyes went wide knowing what you were doing. He was quick to press mute before taking off the headset on one of his ears “Stop it.” You whined as you slid your hand down to his lower abdomen growing closer to his crotch but he swatted your hand away “I’m serious, I’m playing a game right now.” Chifuyu said a bit more sternly than you expected and you put your hands on his shoulders.

“‘Fuyu, please! Hurts s’bad right now…” You mewled walking in front of him just barely covering the side of the PC screen wanting him to see how desperate you were. Chifuyu got hard in his pants at the sight of you looking at him so needy wearing only his crewneck and panties.

You lifted the hem of the crewneck just a bit allowing him to see more of your panties and the small wet spot. He looked down and looked back at you letting out a sigh and leaning further back into his chair “Fine, c’mon.” Chifuyu said patting his lap and making a smile stretch across your face. You wasted no time going to him and beginning to pull his sweatpants down but what he said next made you stop.

“But you’re just gonna sit there. Still got a game to play.”

What? In your most desperate hour of need, he was going to make you cockwarm him while he screamed in your ear at Baji? Couldn’t he see how wet you were for him? “Chifuyu what the fuck are you doing!?” Baji yelled from the headset just as you opened your mouth to protest against it making you shut it really fast.

Chifuyu looked at you with a nasty smile on his face “Either you get on or you don’t.” He said shrugging his shoulders putting the other side of his headset back on and turning mute off to talk to Baji ignoring the pout you had on your face. Despite all your thoughts against it, you still slid your panties off and sat on your boyfriend's cock your legs folded on either side of him with your arms wrapped around his neck.

You were desperate for anything even if it was just his tip sitting at your sweet spot with no movement but after nearly an hour had passed, you couldn’t take it anymore! He was still getting yelled at by Baji with Kazutora trying to be the mediator and you were a soaking and drooling mess in his lap holding back the urge to whine for him to let you do something but you didn’t want to humiliate yourself in front of you guys’ friends.

It’s not like your asking would do much. He would say no just like the times you tried to move your hips just even a little bit so it’d be pointless but you just needed to move! You were so focused on getting yours that you hadn’t even realized that Chifuyu had muted himself on the game and slid the headset on his head just a bit so that his ears were visible. Chifuyu was getting tired of being hard inside of you.

The green-eyed man moved his hips just a bit making you whine but more importantly, the wet sounds of your pussy clenching around him got loud and it made Chifuyu grin “Hm?” Chifuyu said gaining your attention. You looked up at him with your head still on his chest curious as to what he was talking about and saw him beginning to lean down “Wha–” “Shhh. Pussy’s talkin’ to me baby.” Chifuyu said silencing you.’

He moved his hips at different angles again, even thrusting his hips up just a bit to hear those noises your soaked pussy made “She’s tellin’ me that she wants more.” Chifuyu spoke glancing up at you, that smile still on his face and it made you pulse around him again just wanting more like he said. “Should I give her more?” He questioned tilting his head just slightly and you nodded immediately not hesitating for a second.

Chifuyu leaned back against his gaming chair but didn’t respond. Well not verbally. His response was unmuting and telling Baji and Kazutora that he had to go. Once he left the game and ended the call, his attention was entirely focused on you.

“So sorry for neglecting my girl,” Chifuyu said as his hands moved to your ass groping it lightly. You wrapped your arms around his neck while he started to kiss all over your neck and collarbone “Lemme give her what she needs.” The black-haired male muttered into your skin making goosebumps form on your arms because of his lips tickling you. Nodding your head with small moans leaving your lips “Please.”.

Chifuyu began to move you on his cock using his hold on your ass to his advantage “Ah, pussy’s so loud…and I thought you have a problem being quiet.” Your boyfriend said with a small laugh as you began to bounce on his dick without needing his help but his hands remained on your ass kneading and groping at the fat “S-Shut up.” You stammered as your pace sped up wanting more and more by the second. This slow pace wasn’t doing it for you especially when his tip was brushing over your g-spot with every slow fuck.

“Make me,” Chifuyu said almost threateningly but it was evident that he just wanted to kiss you by his stare at your plump lips that had been releasing whines of his name all day. You grabbed hold of his face and pushed your lips into his; tongue immediately entering his mouth wanting to dominate but he took it instead once bringing out your weak point by slapping the flesh of your ass.

Chifuyu’s hand grabbed your ass tightly as he began to fuck up into you smiling into the kiss because of how much he had you moaning into the kiss “Mhm, s’good.” You mewled into the makeout trying your best not to cum so soon as you wanted to cum with your boyfriend but with the way he was fucking you on his dick, he wasn’t going to let that happen. His bright red tip crashed into your sweet spot over and over showing he wasn’t letting up until both of you came.

One of his hands moved from your behind and came to flick at your clit surprising you “Stop that!” Chifuyu merely laughed at your yelping that broke the kiss. He loved playing with you during sex. Lightly slapping your clit or flicking it just to make you jump, it was so funny to see you squirm just from a small movement.

“Wanna make you cum faster, not my fault you’re so sensitive…” The Matsuno male muttered pecking your lips with a smile that attempted to be comforting but his words weren’t whatsoever. Your cunt tightened around him with a string of moans leaking from your mouth as you threw your head back.

You bounced faster breathing heavily as you felt your release approaching, it was right there in your reach. You just needed to lean a little further for it “Keep touching me, oh my god. Almost there!” Whines and pleads were all that were leaving your mouth just begging for Chifuyu to help you reach your mark and he ate that shit up, oh he did. His fingers drew the letters of his name all over your clit sometimes even pinching it after the last ‘u’ in his name “That’s my girl. Fuck…moan for me pretty.” Chifuyu groaned as you kept tightening around his cock warning your orgasm and you were about to cause his.

Chifuyu stood up and your legs immediately wrapped around his waist. He slammed your back onto the table in front of him not caring about the PC or the keyboard and just sliding the keyboard across to make room for you “Fuck, I’m almost there pretty. Hah, fuck.” The dark-haired man said holding onto his hips tightly as he fucked into you harder than he did before. Your hands gripped the edge of the table trying your hardest not to bump into the PC and break it but Chifuyu wasn’t letting up. It’s like he didn’t even care.

“Baby…!” You moaned. Your nails dug into the skin of his neck as you felt yourself cumming all over his cock and that was Chifuyu’s last straw, he gripped your hips even tighter as he piped your womb to the brim with his semen.

He pushed the black strands that were sticking to his forehead back whilst he breathed heavily. His gaze slowly traveled to the bed on the other side of the room before it was directed back to you. “Lemme play one more round then I’ll give you one too, okay?”

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

#torasplanet.ᐟ #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #marls-fics.ᐟ #chifuyu matsuno #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu matsuno smut #chifuyu smut #◛⑅·˚fuyuuu

[ponderingmoonlight]

Because Chapter 261 broke me

„I’m really not more than a war machine, am I?”

Your eyes dart towards the white-haired man sitting next to you immediately, a feeling of deep grief getting a hold of your heart.

“Why would you even think something like that, Satoru? You’re so much more than that. You’re funny, you’re kind, you’re-“

“The strongest. That’s all I’ll ever be in this world”, he interrupts you with low voice, his gaze hanging onto the barely lit skyscrapers around both of you.

Out of instinct, you grab his hand, force him to look at you.

“You’re Satoru, even without the Gojo. I know this world has treated you rough since the day you’ve been born, I know the only person who ever saw more in you than the blessed one was Suguru. But…I’m here too, okay? And in my world, you’ll always be Satoru with the cheekiest grin and the driest humor on this earth. You’ll always be the one I’m looking up to, the one who cares about others before even thinking about himself. You’ll always be the only hope I have left in this shitty world, the prove that kindness actually exist. I love you. Not for the fact that you are Gojo, but for being here as Satoru.”

“(y/n).”

Your name is nothing but a fade away whisper, a silent prayer on top of this building with the busy streets to your feet. Only you and the man who had to suffer more than anyone else, who was forced to watch countless friends die, who carries the responsibility for this world on his broad shoulders.

“I will always choose you, Satoru. No matter how rough it gets, no matter what it does to me. I will always stay by your side.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, (y/n). You’ll never know if someday, I will be used against you as well”, he mumbles while digging his head into your neck, taking in your calming scent.

“If that’s the case I will do everything I can to get you back”, you reply without hesitation.

“It’s not that easy, love. The world of jujutsu has never been this easy. When this day comes, you’ll have to kill me.”

Instantly, you grab his face, take in the stinging sight of his glossy blue eyes. Those oh so gorgeous eyes that make his life so difficult, the eyes you’d recognize out of a thousand pairs. Why would those eyes ever want to hurt you?

-a few years later-

“Satoru?”, you croak out.

You feel like collapsing any given minute. Out of joy, grief, agony? You can’t put a finger on it. Because it shouldn’t be possible for the love of your life to stand in front of you. Because he died a painful death. Because not even Gojo Satoru is able to survive everything.

But those bright blue eyes…They look exactly like the ones you loved so much, the eyes that supported you through day and night. But at the same time, they don’t look like his at all. No, something is off, this isn’t right.

“Satoru is gone”, his familiar voice speaks out without any emotion.

“I’ll take over from now on.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo hurt #gojo is back #jjk spoilers #jjk drabbles #jjk fanfic #jjk angst #jjk fic #gojo jjk #gojo x you #satoru #jujustu kaisen #my man deserved so much better #this honestly had me in tears #i hate you gege #gege when i catch you gege

[squerlly]

Fair Exchange Chapter 5

------"some silences can scream louder than words ever could"--------

Alastor x (F! wife doe reader)

The Doe-----------------------------------------------------

It was later in the morning when Charlie wanted us to do a show and tell day, we all reluctantly agreed but Alastor stayed behind to eat his breakfast. it was Angel's turn claiming he wanted to show us his "best film." I figured it was a movie or play but... it was a porn video...

I tried to keep my eyes away, swiping invisible dust from my dress attempting to stay distracted. Husk eventually jumps in arguing with Angel "Everybody likes to bitch to the bartender! I know everything about you and these motherfuckers" he points at Pentious "That one's an insecure buffoon who watches you all sleep at night" he then points to Charlie and vaggie and then me "that one's constantly taking bullets from everybody because she's a pushover and nifty, tch you don't even wanna know what her deal is." I'm not a pushover...

the argument is short-lived when Angel gets a call from his boss calling him in for work, talking about some emergency shoot and storming out.

Charlie wanted to go and help get Angel some time off of work by talking to his boss, I would have gone with her but I know Alastor wouldn't be too happy if I was out in the Vees district without him. seeing as how our last visit went I don't think it would be a good idea.

Charlie left and I went back upstairs to Alastors room to pick up his dishes, knocking on the door "Alastor? may I come in" There was a long pause before the door opened, Alastors shadow giving me a grin as he stepped aside to let me in. I don't really see Alastor's shadow that often considering he only uses it for scouting, investigating, or fetching things when I'm not available.

however, when I stumble upon his shadow, it stares at me with that same evil grin. from what I have gathered over the years, the shadow is just an extension of Alastor, mimicking his personality and actions. Sometimes, if you look closely, it can display his emotions with its cold black body and inky blue tongue. It's more curious than Alastor, peering around people's shoulders and poking through others business. I never seemed to mind it.

there's something different this time, it's acting off. usually, it just pokes around and then returns to Alastor but not this time. No, it's staring at me, watching me, almost like it's inspecting me... I try to ignore it, walking over to pick up Alastors dish "Thank you my dear" "of course, is there anything else you need?" "no, your free to enjoy the rest of your morning"

I turn to leave but then remember something "Oh I almost forgot, do you mind if I grab a book from your shelf, I finished my other two.." not looking up from his desk he says "As long as you don't touch the books on the top shelf" I look at the shelf of various books next to his fireplace, walking up to choose one. I like to read romance and fantasy, but Alastor as romantic as people say he is, doesn't collect those types of novels. he likes books that are mostly nonfiction.

I ended up choosing a book that wasn't too thick just enough to pass the time and left the room, heading to the kitchen to drop off the plate. on my way there I see something rush from the corner of my eyes but when I look around there's nothing there, that was until I turn back to keep walking. I ended up running right through Alastors shadow, A cold chill running up my spine from its solvent body.

I quickly regain composure, making sure to not drop the plate in my hands "Oh for all that is unholy, you scared me!" I said looking at the shadow "Do you uhh... need something?" it cocks its head and smiles like I said the funniest thing in the world "ok... I guess not." I continue on to the kitchen, washing the dishes before heading upstairs to my room to read, all while having it follow me the entire time.

I walk into my room, kicking off my heels with a tired huff and I plop down on my bed "Are you going to stay here all day?" I say to the shadow that is currently looming around my room, snooping through drawers and various items. I should tell Alastor that there is something wrong with his shadow, but... I'm curious to see what it wants.

I decided to leave it alone since it's not causing much trouble, it's just exploring. I lay back on my bed against the headboard and opened the book to the first page, I only got to page 10 before the shadow poked its head through the book to look at me "Alastor will be mad if you're over here, I suggest you behave" it hovered over me with a frown and it felt almost illegal to see, Alastor never frowns and to see his shadow do it feels wrong "wait... I'm sorry I won't tell him you're here, promise" it doesn't smile but it's not frowning either, it just leans closer to me until I'm nose to nose with it.

it brought a hand to my face and to my surprise I could feel it, not just that cold feeling when it runs through you but its hand was well...there. not knowing what to do I just sat there watching as it caressed my cheek earning a blush from me. what is wrong with me, blushing at Alastors shadow, it's not even a real person, but it feels like it is "What is it you want...?" I say practically whispering.

the door opens startling me and making the shadow turn its head. Alastor stands at the door with a strained smile "Enough!" he says, his voice laced with static. the shadow frowns and retreats behind Alastor "Apologies my dear, it has a mind of its own..." he said through gritted teeth, shooting the shadow a glare "I-it's ok it didn't do anything bad-" "This will never happen again, I will make sure of it." he says in a harsh tone. I opened my mouth to say something but quickly shut it, not wanting to aggravate the situation more.

"Alright..." I say and he turns on his heel to walk back to his room, the shadow looks back at me one more time before it follows Alastor down the hallway. I feel almost sorry for it, even though it's not technically its own person it's still capable of feelings... Alastors feelings. but it makes me wonder, if that shadow is a part of Alastor, emotions, thoughts and all, what was it doing? Why was it following me? and why was Alastor so angry...

there was a loud thud downstairs and I slid off my bed, put my shoes on, and walked downstairs. Charlie had returned but she looked pretty upset "Charlie, how did it go with Angel?" "I messed up, I- I made him angry at me and-" vaggie walks up to her rubbing her back "Hay it's okay, maybe he didn't mean it!" Charlie bursts out in tears and vaggie whisks her away to comfort her.

Husk scoffs from the bar and I scowl at him "Don't be like that!" he growls and takes a swig from his bottle "She's too soft for her own good" I sigh and walk over to take a seat on a stool "a lot like you, showing kindness to other who don't deserve it" "is it so bad that I don't want to be like any other person in this horrible place!" he raises a brow at my sudden outburst "what's on your mind..?" "there's nothi-" "yes there is, your frustrated."

I stare at the counter thinking about my next few words before I speak "Do you think Alastor hates me?" I feel stupid for asking such a thing, but Husk doesn't question it "I doubt that creep likes anyone but himself" I frown and he seems to notice because of what he says next "But I wouldn't be surprised if he did like you" I throw him a puzzled look "why do you think that?" "tch, haven't you ever questioned why Alastor made you his wife" he was right, Alastor was an overlord, if he needed somebody to prepare his meals and clean his house he could just...buy a maid.

"no, I- I haven't..." When Alastor and I first discussed our contract, he said that he and my ex-husband would trade places, me being married to Alastor in exchange for complete devotion to him...and my soul. in the 1950s it was looked down on to divorce your husband or divorce at all, and now that I looked back at it I didn't care about my reputation enough not to get a divorce. but I was desperate for an escape, and desperation makes you do stupid things.

"if he didn't tolerate you, he wouldn't have married you, it's one of the weirdest contracts I ever saw but I wouldn't pry into it too much, just know you're the last person on his shit list" I nod but that doesn't explain why he was so angry, was he even angry at me? suddenly the door to the hotel opens and Angel walks over looking spent.

he plops down on the stool down from me and asks for the strongest drink Husk can make "Excuse me, didn't think this was a drink to forget kinda night" Angel and Husk end up fighting about Angels "acting" resulting in Angel throwing a bottle. I stand away and steer clear of the glass shards before watching Angel storm off "Angel wait..." he pushes past vaggie and out the door. vaggie tells Husk to go after him and Charlie leaves to go make "100 apology letters."

eventually, Husk returns with Angel, laughing and talking while being dirtied and damaged. Charlie rushes over to Angel and apologizes over 50 times before he reassures her "He he he he he said HE FORGAVE ME!!!" Charlie says in tears while vaggie carries her back to their room. I quickly run up to Angel checking up on him "Angel!! are you ok you- you're covered in blood."

"ahh don't worry tuts, I'm alright" I breathe a sigh of relief, thankful that Angel isn't hurt "Come on, let's go get a drink" "Oh angel I don't-" "I won't make you anything strong, Alastor would kill me if I did" I hesitate but agree "Ok, but just for a little while..."

so sorry this came out late but here it is!! chapter 5!!! I got writer's block halfway through but still managed to make it work. I will be gone for the weekend to Knots Berry Farm for a family trip so expect chapter 6 to be a little late. and with that have a wonderful day/night love you all!!!

-squerlly

@kimmis-stuff @pooplyface1423 @strippezzz

#hazbin #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel

[remarcely]

Something was itching me about Kipperlilly as a character for a while that I couldn't place down but I just got it.

There is so much of a connection between her storyline and the radicalization a white suburban kid can have to something like white supremacy that it's not even that deep, it's surface level.

Think about it:

She has a strong hatred for a minority kid in her school because he's got great grades and is viewed as a hero

She's envious of the hardships he's gone through and starts hating her family for being so 'normal' (a lot of white people can feel angry about their identity and what they think is a lack of a culture because they 'don't feel oppressed enough' to justify their own feelings of unfairness)

She takes all that anger and infects the people around her, hurting them and 'radicalizing' a few others

Is so insistent that this random kid had an unfair start because of his family situation that she wants to permanently change the bylaws in her school so he's put at a crazy disadvantage, just so she feels like she has an upper hand (think of racist people being mad that there's more POC going to college and crying that they're only getting in because they're a minority, ignoring the real work those students put it despite the disadvantages they might have faced)

She doesn't do any self introspection, doesn't decide to put more effort into her grades or personal relations, she takes that hatred and lets it poison her from the inside out. She rants about fairness when she doesn't put the work in and chooses to despise the people that do, just because they're not as miserable as her.

Her guidance counselor doesn't know how to combat that anger because he doesn't agree with her politics, a creepy adult in her life recognizes her hate and takes advantage of it to stir up the flames, we don't even see her parents but it's safe to say they're not exactly involved or watching her.

I don't know, I'm just annoyed because I keep seeing people say 'if you hate Kipperlilly that's just misogyny' as if she is not a genuinely hate-able character.

You can hate a woman for being evil, you're allowed.

And on the whole 'redemption' thing, sure that's entirely possible but let's face it. You cannot force someone to change, that's not how redeeming yourself works, you have to want it. Kipperlilly has no desire to change because she believes she is right. What use is it to her to abandon a worldview that suits desires her so well?

There was no way that could have been covered in an epilogue well enough to justify it and do you really think all the people that had their lives ruined and were literally murdered (Lucy, Oisin, Ivy, Ruben, Mary Ann, Buddy, etc.) would be bending over backwards to check on their killer?

#dimension 20 #dropout tv #kipperlilly copperkettle #the rat grinders #rat grinders #fhjy spoilers #fhjy #d20 fhjy #dimension 20 fhjy #fantasy high junior year #d20 fantasy high #fantasy high #rambles #i am white and a woman so i can vouch for this #you have my permission as a woman to not like Kipperlilly #Stop calling misogyny because you like a complex female character #you're allowed to like the villains #some of you did not get her character at all #Also to the people that were genuinly mad TBKs killed any of the RGs #They were actively trying to end the world #They weren't going to hold their actions for a philosophical debate #They were going to kill TBKs

[bas-writes]

I decided to support @ficsforgaza initiative by offering Sponsor a WIP option. Please, check their blog for more information about the initiative & its participants.

how does it work?

↬ choose a WIP you want to support (you can support multiple of them - then, tell me how should i split the donated word count)

↬ make a donation to a vetted fundraiser or charity of your choice (list of fundraisers and charities to choose from)

↬ screenshot a proof of your donation & send it to me via DM or ask (or on discord, if we know each other); REMEMBER TO COVER ANY PERSONAL DATA (screenshots will be shared with @/ficsforgaza for verification)

↬ don't send me a screenshot you already used to fund someone else's WIP!

↬ you will be mentioned as a sponsor of fic when i'll post it (you can opt out of it, if you wish to remain anonymous - in this case, remember to inform me beforehand)

↬ i'll start working on a fic when it's at least 50% sponsored and then move to next ones in the line, starting from those that reached 50% first

↬ depending on my workload, i may add more WIPs to the list, i'll keep you updated

sponsor a WIP - $1 for 100 words

puzzle night | higuruma x afab!reader x kusakabe

cw: smut, one night stand, threesome, reader with a vagina summary: insomnia-ridden night leads to an accidental meeting at a konbini. all three of you seek snacks, alcohol and company to chew through sleepless hours, and from word to word you end up at your place and join forces to tackle the puzzles you left scattered in your living room.

estimated word count: 5000 current word count: 0 words sponsored: 0/5000

beggar's privilege | toji x plus size afab!reader

cw: smut, friends with benefits, sex in exchange of a favor, reader with a vagina summary: toji is one of your favorite regulars at the shady bar where you're working. he's often cashless but he keeps shady guys at distance and helps you around in exchange for food. sometimes though the help you need has nothing to do with your work.

estimated word count: 5000 current word count: 0 words sponsored: 0/5000

behind the scenes | geto x gojo x afab!reader x nanami

cw: no curses au, smut, group sex, swapping partners during sex, established relationships (nanami & reader, s!atosugu), reader with a vagina summary: gojo accidentally gets drunk during a party with friends. you and nanami help geto transport him safely to their place, as a result missing the last train home. you're offered to stay overnight, just to take a shower, sleep, and eat a breakfast together. but alcohol in your veins has different plans for the night.

estimated word count: 7000 current word count: 0 words sponsored: 0/7000

when the heavens open up to the birds of prey | sukuna x afab!reader

cw: dark content, smut, dubcon, canon typical violence & gore, true form sukuna (so, monsterfuckery, if you squint), human sacrifice, cannibalism (i mean... it's sukuna), reader with a vagina summary: your land is blessed. it knows no war or hunger, the soil is heavy with grain, everything is born strong and healthy, and no curses crawl close to your villages. though, it has its cruel price - every full moon, one person disappears. it is believed they are taken by the lord of the land himself, a mysterious figure no one has ever seen. some say he's a god building his harem in heavens. some say he's a demon devouring human flesh. this month it's your turn to learn the truth.

estimated word count: 10.000 current word count: 0 words sponsored: 0/10.000

sugar and spice | nanami x plus size afab!reader

cw: smut, nanami lives!au, newly married couple, reader with a vagina summary: after the tragedy of shibuya and forced retirement, nanami is determined to catch up on every joy he missed. and you are the greatest joy of his life, you and your cooking he can taste now whenever he wants.

estimated word count: 5000 current word count: 0 words sponsored: 0/5000

#fics for gaza #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #nanami x reader #sukuna x reader #toji x reader #higuruma x reader #kusakabe x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader

[moonstone03]

Hello! I have seen some other fanders commenting about the Janus GRWM video and I have a few opinions about both the video and some of those comments. But please note these are my thoughts and opinions and even some theories about certain things.

Also note that I respect and can understand other people's opinions, I am just sharing my own.

So, overall I found the GRWM video fun and funny. At first when we saw the preview last night,

I theorized that the colors used were meant to make it more obvious on the skin. Some even pointed out that the change could be because of Thomas's skin condition. To me, despite these colors not being green, they still look slightly green especially with the yellow glove near his face. Most people have more of a problem with the black line for his mouth which I can agree, it is very jarring to the eye and unnatural looking. However, this is not the first time we have seen the black line for Janus.

You can see it in the screen shots and it is very obvious, and done not as well, in the second picture with Janus's full winter get-up. I think this has less to do with Thomas choosing to change the makeup look and more with the fact that Tayln and Quill (who seems to be doing the makeup now) have different styles when it comes to Janus. This style has also been seen with some cosplayers, which I would show pictures but I cannot find names or media tags for them but you can see examples if you look up Janus Sanders Cosplays. Hopefully by the time the finale comes around, the makeup will not be as jarring and maybe even get better.

Now with the comments about how the characters are portrayed. I can see where this is coming from, they have changed but something we have to remember is that they are representations of Thomas's personality which will change over time. Also Thomas is still trying to get a handle on them without Joan by his side and we haven't had an official episode since Working Through Intrusive Thoughts, most things that have come out since seem to be semi-canon/non-canon. Thomas has also said (via my memory) in his Failures and Success video for 2023, he was using these Aside videos and shorter and easier form content to get used to and understand his characters again and to have more fun with them without the pressure like normal videos.

I want to end this post with saying that Thomas can and does make mistakes, we all do, but these are his characters and he is allowed to change and use them as he sees fits. Just as much as we as fans are allowed to use these characters and change their designs and even sometimes personalities to fit what we want them to fit.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk, have a good day, treat each other with respect and love, peace out! Love y'all!

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #ts sanders sides #fanders #ts janus #janus sanders

[makyurini]

She Washes All of My Wounds For Me | Touya Todoroki

cw/tw: NSFT, fem reader (AFAB anatomy, femme pet names), so so SO much hurt/comfort, a lot of angels/heavenly/sinners/god-like imagery, touya is so desperate to be loved and in so much denial about it, one (1) little teeny weeny mention of Sir kink as a joke, one (1) verbal argument, touya breaks a piece of furniture during said argument but does NOT hurt reader, touya is too stubborn for his own good, drunk touya however is less stubborn, drunk apologies in the rain because i am not immune to cliches, oral and fingering (f! receiving), reader does have a Bush, praise and praise and praise and praise, super duper soft smut with obsessive undertones because of who i am as a person, touya also VERY vocal in bed, happy ending (in more ways than one)

wc: 15,240

a/n: you all thought i forgot about my re-uploads? (i did but shhh) here is one of the most personal fanfics i’ve ever written and probably my favorite (so far). enjoy! <3

The first time you call Dabi by his name, he swears he sees a halo floating above your head, glitter cascading down the face he’s spent months memorizing and the body he would consider his home if he deemed himself worthy.

He never knew a thing that has brought him so much pain, so much agony, something he thought was forever cursed to be a shameful thing to hide behind skeletons in dusty closets could sound so sweet, so tender, so gentle.

But he supposes every world that falls out of the mouth of an angel is bound to sound heavenly.

His limbs are tangled with yours, his head is pressed against your shoulder in hopes that maybe you can share the burden that lies on his, his heart has been cut out of his chest and locked in yours for safe keeping, and yet he can’t believe you still manage to find ways to rock him down to his very core. You’re a saint, something so ethereal and otherworldly he never thought his temporal hands would have a chance to touch you, and yet you still choose a sinner over your throne in the clouds.

It’s a miracle, really, his tainted soul hasn’t scared you off yet. Maybe you’re just as stubborn as he is. Maybe you see him as a charity case. Maybe, just maybe, you do love him and all of his broken pieces no matter how much they bite at your skin and dye them the color of mortals. And the fact that you can say his name with so much purity—as if it really is just another typical Friday evening spent together after a week of trying to bring hero society down and not you changing everything he knows about that goddamn name—just shows how much he doesn’t deserve you.

“What did you call me?” he asks, his face never daring to leave the crook of your neck in fear of you seeing the vulnerability in his eyes, but he can’t hide it from his voice. He knows how he sounds—knows he sounds like a child lost in a world that is far too vast for him to comprehend. Blood rushes in his ears, his hands shake as they grip your hips, blunt fingernails digging into your flesh in a vain attempt to starve off the longing that is filling his bones. It’s consuming him—chewing through calcium and turning it to mere dust between greedy enamel that only knows how to feed on what little affection he receives.

Your fingers lace themselves in his hair, a signal to let him know he’s safe, he’s okay, there’s no reason to sharpen his tongue and forge his armor around you. His heart is starved of love and you’re more than happy to flood it with so much dedication he fears it may burst out of his chest—worthless bones unable to contain all of the emotions he’s tried so hard to keep locked away. “I called you by your name. Is that okay?”

“I don’t know.”

And it isn’t because he doesn’t want you to know his name. He’s already announced it to the world. Of course, you’re going to know it. It certainly isn’t because he hates the way your lips so easily form the two syllables. It isn’t because he no longer wants to associate himself with the name.

He’s simply afraid of his greedy soul becoming attached to the way you somehow manage to make something that used to cause his skin to crawl now bring his heart a peace he’s never known before he saw your face.

“Can I call you it again?”

And you sound so uncertain, so scared you’ve prodded at bruises you didn’t even know existed, terrified of reopening a wound you’ve tried to stitch up before it bled all over your hands, that he can’t help but pull his face away from its safe space and rest his sapphire eyes on yours. Though they shake, he still runs his fingers along your lower lip and tugs so he can look at your teeth and all of the words sitting in them. You look as nervous as he feels. He’ll never tell you that, however, will never let you know how much power a simple word has over him—how much power you have over him. He’s a murderer with an agenda who has allowed rebellion and anger to corrupt his burning body. He can’t let something as fickle as love distract him from his end goal.

But sometimes, he thinks, it might be okay to allow himself to be loved, especially when you make it seem so simple.

“Just don’t get used to it, sweetcheeks,” he muses, a mask of ease sliding over his face, and pulls your body closer to his. “That version of me died long ago.”

“Maybe we can resurrect him,” you whisper into his hair, and it’s then when he realizes he lost control long ago when it comes to you.

And before he can snap back that he killed it himself, you gently kiss the tips of his fingers with a touch so tender, his lungs forget how to function properly.

Still, he manages to mutter, “Some things are better left dead. No use in trying to bring something back to life that wants to stay dead.”

“But what if it never had a chance to live?”

“Then it makes grieving a lot easier. Less memories. Less things to be sad about.”

“Or it makes it more of a tragedy.” And it’s so gentle as how you say it, full of such sorrow for a man you never got to meet. The grief in your eyes pulls at his heartstrings until they’re completely unraveled, put on display for your pure eyes to dissect and analyze, and for once in his life, he isn’t afraid.

Still, only fools allow themselves to be distracted by emotions, and Dabi is anything but a fool. Using his body weight against yours, he easily flips your bodies over so you’re now straddling him, his rough hands ghosting over your soft skin and all of the imperfections he loves so much. His fingers easily find the places that turn you into a whimpering mess above him, and he regains the control he thought he lost long ago.

“C’mon, babe, I had a rough week. Let’s not talk about it, yeah? Let me just make you feel good. Doesn’t that sound so nice? Crying from my cock instead of a stupid name?” Before you can protest, he slips his thumb past your lips and presses it against your tongue, effectively rendering you speechless as you reflexively begin sucking on the digit. “Now that’s a good girl. Let’s not worry about something stupid, okay? Now, what’s my name?”

“Sir,” you moan out around his hand, drool coating his palm in a lewd way that causes all of his blood to rush to his dick.

“That’s the only name I care about.”

The second time you call Dabi by his name, he remembers why it brings him so much pain.

It was such an odd thing to get angry about. After everything he’s done, the stunts he’s pulled, the countless times he’s burned his body trying to set others ablaze, you choose to get mad over the fact that he had to go radio silent for two weeks to keep you out of the attention of those who want to take him down. It’s nothing new, nothing you haven’t been through before. Hell, he’s had to disappear for a month before, and you welcomed him back with open arms.

So why? Why get angry now? Why do your eyes hold such hostility when looking at him? It’s something he’s grown accustomed to from strangers, from heroes who claim to fight for the greater good, from family members who forget the past, from colleagues who don’t agree with his extreme ideals. But from you? Such a thing could bring a man to his knees and grovel for forgiveness.

But not Dabi. Never Dabi. Dabi doesn’t bow to anyone—not even angels with pretty wings and glowing halos.

“What’s the big fucking deal?” he scoffs and plants himself in one of your kitchen chairs, an apple in his hand and a neutral expression on his face to hide the pain burning at his guts. “So what, I had to lay low for a little while? In case that pretty little head of yours forgot: I’m a goddamn villain and you, good samaritan, are not.”

“The big fucking deal, Touya,” you reply through clenched teeth, hands balls in fists and shaking at your sides, “is you just exposed the number one hero in Japan and then disappear for two weeks. I thought you died. I thought they locked you up and threw away the fucking key.”

The sapphires in his skull alight with a fire you haven’t seen in a while, and he grumbles dangerously low, “Don’t think you can just sling that name around to get a reaction out of me, doll, because you ain’t gonna like what’ll happen.” before taking a bite out of his apple.

Closing the space between your bodies, you smack the cursed fruit out of his hand, demanding his attention be solely on you, your chest pressed against his, noses nearly touching as you bare your fangs down at him in hopes he’ll back down. He doesn’t, of course. Instead, he stands right up, towering over you, chair clattering to the floor from the sheer speed of him getting on his feet, his own fangs on display and covered in blood.

“Oh? What’s gonna happen?” you challenge. “Are you gonna disappear? Make me think you’re dying in a goddamn gutter? Or maybe you’ll reveal your identity on live TV for all of Japan to see, expose your family for the abuse and trauma they put you through, also out the number two hero as a fucking murderer, and then randomly not answer any of my calls or texts for two weeks and leave me here to wonder what the absolute fuck is going on? Oh wait, you already did that.”

When Dabi speaks, it’s a voice he barely even recognizes, a voice he’s only heard in the back of his head and never dared to speak aloud—unhinged, angry, scared. A voice he never, ever thought would be directed towards you. But you’re so stubborn, so hellbent on babying a man who has been on his own since he was a child. Though, he supposes he has no one to blame but himself. He is, after all, a goddamn villain, and you, good samaritan, are not.

“What the fuck else am I supposed to do?” The voice shakes with a fear he’s never wanted to show: a fear of losing you—the only thing he’s ever considered worth keeping. “Do you want Endeavor, my father, to come knocking at your door looking for me? Or maybe you want Hawks sending one of his stupid goddamn feathers in here to eavesdrop on you? Want the entire fucking hero commission here tearing your place apart? Do you want to go to prison because...because—” Because I love you.

It hangs in the air between your heaving bodies—a secret he thought he had kept close to his heart, but, looking into your tear-filled eyes, knows that his heart has always been on his sleeve around you. There’s no hiding anything from you because you’ve spent hours, days, weeks, months listening to all of the whispers trapped inside fragile bones and stringing together memories locked away inside of an unstable mind. You knew him before he even knew himself.

His eyes flit around your face in search of any signs of fleeting, any telltales of abandoning him now that you’ve seen all of his ugliness. Because love is such an ugly thing. Love makes people burn their bodies from the inside out just so someone will finally gaze at their flames. Love makes people spend years with the wrong person in hopes that one day they’ll receive the affections they’ve been craving all along. Love makes people foolish, irrational, idiotic. And Dabi has always considered himself smarter than the average man.

The anger in your eyes has dissipated down to pain, and he isn’t sure which one he preferred more. Your hand comes up to cup his cheeks, and he allows it for a breath’s moment before smacking it away as if it were offensive somehow, the limb falling limply by your side before balling into a fist. Anger returns, and it’s then he decides he’d rather have the anger than the hurt. It’s easier to cause a heart rate to spike than it is to stitch a wound.

“Because why, Dabi? Why the hell would I go to prison?” you dare to ask.

“Because we fuck around and they’d be able to trace you back to me.”

The words fall from his lips faster than he can catch them, splattering against your skin with an acid strong enough to strip you down to the bone, put on display and scared of scarring as it eats away at your body. It’s too late for regrets when he sees your eyes cloud over with an agony he can’t even begin to decipher. It wasn’t supposed to hurt you. It was supposed to piss you off, to rebuild the walls he allowed you to carefully deconstruct. He was supposed to make you hate him, to make you forget what the definition of love is and associate his face with villainous tasks not for the faint of heart.

He wasn’t supposed to hurt you.

“So that’s all this is?” you whisper, lowering your head and tucking your fangs back into your gums for safe-keeping. Your voice is strikingly low, quiet even, but that doesn’t stop each word from lacerating at Dabi’s barely-beating heart. “I’m just some fuck to you? Like the days I’ve spent rubbing your back because you drank too much the night before didn’t mean shit? Or the nights we’ve spent telling each other secrets and talking about a future without corrupted heroes was all just fun and games for you? None of it meant anything? I didn’t mean anything? Is that what you’re saying, Dabi?”

Venom sits in his enamel, eroding his tongue and any semblance of self-control he had.

It burns, it burns, it burns.

He thought he’d be used to burning by now—burning forests, burning bodies, burning himself. To be alive is to set yourself on fire, and Dabi bares the scars of his livelihood. It’s all he knows, all he was taught by a man who was determined to have the brightest flame the world has ever seen.

It burns, it burns, it burns.

Touya died in a self-inflicted fire set ablaze by a child who only wanted his father’s love and attention. Is Dabi going to die by yet another fire set ablaze by a man who doesn’t know how to allow himself to be loved?

It burns, it burns, it burns.

It burns to see you so hurt. It burns to know he’s the reason behind it. It burns to look in your cold eyes and see his own angry reflection in them. It burns to see your fists shake and wonder if you’re imagining driving them into his cheeks. It burns to know that he’s losing another home because even now, after all of these years, he still isn’t good enough.

The table sitting next to him splinters into a thousand little pieces as he drives his fist through the wood, all of his frustration and anger towards himself channeled into his bony knuckles. You don’t even flinch at the action, and that only seems to anger him even more. “I didn’t ask you to do any of that shit! You volunteered, in case you forgot, sweetcheeks. I didn’t come knocking at your door asking you to take care of me. You invited me in. You offered me a place to stay. You gave me food to eat, hot water to bathe in, a bed to sleep in. And what the fuck was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, no thank you, hot stranger, I’ll just stay homeless and sleep with rats in a cardboard box’?”

“You didn’t have to pretend to love me,” you shout back, eyes flitting around like a wild animal, fists trembling at your side, chest heaving as if you just ran a mile. “You didn’t have to rip yourself open and put on this whole ‘poor me, poor Dabi’ act if that’s how you really feel. You could’ve just been some typical useless roommate who pops in every now and then. You didn’t have to pretend. You...you didn’t have to lie to me.”

“Wait, I—”

“Oh, no, no it’s fine, Dabi. It’s fine. I’m the one who got caught up in their feelings. It was my mistake. I put way more thought into this than you did. It’s fine, really.”

But it isn’t fine. None of this is fine. The crystals forming in your eyes aren’t fine. The wounds splitting open on your chest aren’t fine. Your shaking hands and tight knuckles aren’t fine. His bleeding heart isn’t fine. His bulging throat clogged with every word he wished he could say isn’t fine. His fists filled with splitters and emotions aren’t fine.

Nothing is fine.

But you’re so determined to protect the treasure in your chest you thought was safe in the hands of a thief (what a foolish, naive thing to think, really), that you’re willing to believe any lie. As long as it’s sweeter than the bitter truth, it’ll go down easier. Deep down, you know the reality behind all of the smoke and mirrors, know it before Dabi runs over to your side with his puppy-dog eyes and dulled flames, have known it since the first time the criminal fell asleep in your arms: he trusts you. And that, for Dabi, means more than something as fleeting as love. Granted, lingering somewhere in that scarred heart of his, you know he loves you. He wouldn’t keep coming around if he didn’t. He wouldn’t steal for you, sneak away from his group for you, try (and fail miserably) to cook for you, include you in his plans, allow you to call him by his name… But loving something as explosive as Dabi means you’re bound to get burned at some point, and you have a funny feeling you’re going to need some salve tonight.

“I...I didn’t mean it like that,” Dabi rushes to reassure you, his hands trying their hardest to find the wounds he caused even though he doesn’t know the first thing about healing. “I just… I’m not the best when it comes to this emotional bullshit, y'know?”

Flinching away from his touch, you whisper, “I think you should go.”

“C’mon, doll—”

“I mean it, Dabi.” Your voice is firmer now, steadier, and you wrap your arms protectively around your body.

“You’re kidding, right?” he incredulously replies. “I didn’t mean it. You’ve gotta believe me, doll. It was just something stupid that slipped out, and you’re gonna kick me to the curb for it? Just toss me aside after everything we’ve been through? After everything I’ve told you? I let you call me my fucking name, and you’re cutting me out over a dumbass mistake?”

And right behind his sapphire eyes, tucked away in the corners of his skull, he can see the white hot flames again, burning away at the tips of his fingers, dancing across his tongue and leaving blisters, new scars decorating his heart and flooding his lungs. He’s choking and sputtering, and though he knows he has the power to stop them, he can’t help but lose himself in the familiar sensation. It feels good to be on fire again. It’s home, it’s all he knows, it’s all he can truly feel—just fire, fire, fire.

Dabi, if nothing, is a man meant to burn. He was born with a flame his body can barely contain, and he’s determined to allow the world to burn with him.

And though he knows how close he was to finding a new home in your bones, and he knows how close he was to having his sins forgiven and the bloods on his hands washed off, he knows he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve any of the smiles flashed at him, any of the seconds spent in your arms, any of the kisses exchanged between hungry mouths, any of the secrets placed on his lips for safe-keeping, any of the butterflies fluttering in his guts.

He was made for destruction, and he’ll die for it as well.

And though he doesn’t want to hurt you, he knows it’s inevitable. Fire doesn’t discriminate against who it burns. He’s living, breathing evidence of that.

When your eyes meet, he can already see the scars forming over them, can see his handprint seared onto the cornea and a new cautionary tale for you: never trust the man with blue eyes to match his blue flames.

“It’s time to go, Dabi,” you state, jaw tight and twitching with anger.

He sneers down at you, “Don’t you mean Touya?”

“He died a long time ago, remember?”

You might as well slapped him in the face, spat in his eye, curse his name and everything he stands for. It hurts more than his own flames ever will—the ice in your scarred eyes, the gates closing around your soul, your fingers curling in on themselves, your lips sewing themselves shut. You’re closing yourself off to him, and he has no idea what to do now that you’ve changed all of the locks and threw away the keys. He’s over, done with, nothing more than the same traumatized child willing to burn himself alive just to have someone look at him for more than a second.

He’s Touya Todoroki: young, naive, driven, boisterous, eager to see the world and be a part of it, ready to prove himself worthy of being born.

He’s Dabi: self-destructive, sadistic, crude, violent, determined to tear the world apart, ready to prove how hypocritical heroes truly are.

He’s neither: scared, lost, unsure if he ever really was any of that, not quite the boy who wants his father’s love but not quite the man who wants to destroy him, unsteady on his feet as he tries to find his place in this ever-shifting world.

He’s both: driven, self-destructive, naive, eager to see the world, determined to tear it apart, ready to prove himself worthy of being born and show how hypocritical heroes truly are.

He doesn’t know who he is anymore, who he wants to be.

All he knows is you’ve given up on him, and that hurts more than any flame that has touched his skin before.

He leaves without another word, no more venom flung at you to add to the scars he’s left, no more furniture broken with shaking fists and scabbed knuckles, no more fiery eyes and sharp tongues. Just a man who has lost the only home he ever truly had.

The third time you call Dabi his name, he learns that love, as dangerous as it is, can heal even the deepest of wounds, and he’s ready to rid himself of the scars that have haunted his skin for as long as he dares to remember.

He isn’t sure how he’s wound up in front of your apartment, rain pouring down on him because his life was never a cliche until he met you, alcohol sitting heavy in his stomach and grounding his feet, new burns spreading across his abdomen and tainting what little skin he has left. He doesn’t want you to see them. He doesn’t want your fingers to trace the spaces his flames have violated and stained with their hatred. He doesn’t want your eyes to flash with pity as they scan him. He doesn’t want your lips to turn down into a frown when you open your door and see his soaked body, crooked grin on his face because everything about him is a little crooked, old staples missing and new ones in new places, his chest cracked open and put on display for you.

He isn’t sure what he’s hoping to get out of this surprise visitation. A part of him hopes to see you angry, because if you’re angry you care, and he isn’t sure how fit he is for a world where you no longer care about him. A part of him hopes to see you apathetic, because that would confirm the belief he isn’t worth anything anymore, and that would make destroying himself a little easier. Another, smaller part of him, hopes to see you happy, to see relief wash your features and erase the fight you two had about love and other fickle things. It might be impossible at this point, but he’s never been one for easy goals.

All Dabi truly knows, however, is he wants to see you. It’s really as simple as that, and though he isn’t a simple man and doesn’t like simple things, the desire to see you is that—simple. It’s been haunting him since he stumbled out of your apartment blinded with anger and fear. How long has it been since he’s stood here? A week? Two weeks? A month? Time becomes such a messy thing when it’s spent trying to find the next surefire way to burn your bones.

Despite the clothes clinging to his skin, he feels naked, stripped of all of his armor and put on display for you to use and dispose however you please. Dabi isn’t the type to come crawling back to places he isn’t wanted. He’d much rather fake his own death and fly under the radar for years until he’s long forgotten about. But Dabi has also never been the type to look at the stars and try to find someone’s name written in them. He’s never been the type to try to find a face in a sea of people bustling about their days without having to worry about how they’re going to make the world know about them. He’s never tried to find meaning in the clouds or why some planets revolve around stars together while others just crash into each other.

But then he met you and suddenly, he cared. He cared about why some birds hid from the rain while others embraced it. He cared about why stars liked to hide and where they disappeared to. He cared about why some wounds healed and served as a cautionary tale and why others stuck around and served as a personality trait. He cared about Touya Todoroki—the boy whose only dream was to be what his father wanted and to be loved by those who were in his life. And that, he thinks, is the scariest thing he’s ever done. To hate is easy, it’s simple, and though he’s not a simple man and doesn’t like simple things, he loved it. He loved being able to burn those who hurt him and have his world be as simple as: if it isn’t beneficial, turn it to ashes. Black and white and blue. That’s all it was.

Then he saw you look at him as if he had personally strung the stars in the sky for you and suddenly, the universe seemed a lot bigger than sick mothers and neglectful fathers.

He still doesn’t quite understand it and, truth be told, he doesn’t think he ever wants to understand it. For once in his life, he’s okay with leaving this mystery unsolved. He’s okay with having more questions than answers. He’s okay with having an unfinished puzzle and not turning over furniture looking for the right piece to complete the picture.

As long as he has you, he’s okay with finding out who Touya could have been before he burned him to ashes.

The light from your apartment floods his sensitive eyes when you swing the door open, and he almost misses the confusion that flashes across your face before you settle for a guarded expression.

“What are you doing here?” It, like most things, is a simple question, but it still hurts nonetheless, especially when paired with your arms crossing over your body and your tone pointedly flat.

And, like most things, the answer is simple: “I wanted to see you, baby.”

You quirk an eyebrow up, but the rest of you remain emotionless, detached. “Baby? That’s a new one.”

He grins. “I’ve been trying out a lot of new things lately.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Oh, you know, calling you baby. Sleeping by myself. Not killing everyone who pisses me off. Admitting when I fuck up.”

What little amusement you allow to seep through is promptly sealed shut behind a frown, and you wrap your arms tighter around your torso in an effort to protect yourself from his charm. “You can’t just show up here and apologize and think that fixes everything. You really hurt me, Dabi.”

“But you haven’t heard the other new things I’ve been trying.”

You huff, knowing once Dabi has his sights on something it’s near impossible to distract him. He’s headstrong, determined, and that’s one of the many reasons you fell in love with him (and got burned for it). “Fine, I’ll listen. But we aren’t doing it out here in the rain. I’m cold and tired and want to finish my tea.”

For the first time in weeks, you allow him in your home, and it pains him how much hasn’t changed. While his entire world was falling apart, the same shoes have stayed by your front door, the same throw blanket has been strewn across the back of your couch, the same kettle sits on your stovetop, the same jackets hang on your coat rack, and you’ve even managed to find the same table to replace the one he smashed. Your life has remained the same without him, and that is something worth shedding a tear over if he could.

He tries to sit on your couch, but you quickly stop him. “You’re soaking wet,” you reason, and motion for him to go to the bathroom. “I think I have some of your old clothes around here somewhere. Wait there and I’ll bring them to you.”

Thankfully, your compassion has remained the same as well. As he stands in your small bathroom built for one person, rain and the last of his ego dripping off of him, he’s reminded of the first time your paths crossed, when he passed out in an alleyway due to overuse of his quirk and woke up in a bed that smelled like tea leaves, old books, and love. He remembers wandering into the kitchen and finding you humming to yourself, a robe wrapped tightly around your body, two mugs of tea on your table, comfort radiating off of your skin and flooding the tiny space. He remembers how high you had jumped when you realized he had woken up, how quickly you rushed to make sure he knew where the bathroom was and how to properly work your shower so he may bathe, how you had a plate full of food ready for him when he returned to your kitchen a clean man.

He remembers asking you why let a strange, scary-looking man who was unconscious in a shady alley sleep in your home, and you simply replied over your mug, “because you look like someone who doesn’t receive help often.” It was so simple then, and he wasn’t used to simplicity. So ke kept coming around, trying to unravel the mystery of why such a sweet person would help such a tainted one, kept asking questions and prodding at your brain in hopes that maybe he’d find out you’re just as sick as he is. That was never the case, of course. It was and always has been as simple as you being a good person and him being someone in need of a home.

He’s drunk and nostalgic, which is not a good combination for men with shattered souls and too many scars to keep track of and generous people with giving hearts and healing words. And although a part of him feels as if he’s taking advantage of the kindness you have shown him, he can’t bring himself to feel guilty. Maybe it’s the selfish animal in his heart that refuses to release its sharp teeth. Maybe it’s how even after all of these months spent together, you manage to find a way to surprise him. Maybe, just maybe, he’s finally ready to accept the love you’ve been offering him. Whatever it is that’s fueling this selfish desire to lock you away in his chest, nestled right between his lungs, safe from the others with sharp teeth and even sharper tongues, he’s allowing it to roam free and take whatever it wants.

He strips himself of his clothing just in time for you to knock at the door, your gentle voice ringing through the wood. “I found some clothes.”

“Well, bring ‘em in,” he replies.

“Are you naked?”

He rolls his eyes, though you can’t see him. “C’mon, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“But—”

“Just open the door, baby.”

His voice is soft as he says it—so soft, in fact, you aren’t sure if you heard him correctly. But you did, and you’re more than aware of the fact that you’re about to see him soaked down to the bone and as naked as the moon in the sky. Hesitantly, you open the door just enough to accommodate your arm, and right when you slide your handful of clothes through the crack, Dabi’s fingers brush against yours. Electricity runs down your skin—hot, familiar, exhilarating. It steals the breath from your lungs, makes you feel as if the wooden floor beneath your feet is shifting, reminds you of how good it felt to have his rough skin pressed against yours. It’s far too tempting to rip the door open and drink in the sight of the man who holds your heart in his scarred palm, and if you still weren’t so hurt over his words, you might have. You almost think Dabi is going to do it, but, much to your surprise, he doesn’t.

“Do you mind closing the door? The draft is a little cold.” He isn’t being ornery about it. There’s no sneer to his voice. He’s almost...kind about it. Tender. Something you never thought you would associate with the man who just weeks ago plotted to murder his younger brother in order to seek revenge against his father.

You nearly slam in the door in your haste to close it and stutter out, “S-Sorry!” before scrambling to your couch. Whoever this Dabi is, you aren’t sure. The last time you saw him, he was angry, hurt, ready to burn everything he has ever known in a vain attempt to feel something other than the pain throbbing in his chest. He was a wounded animal lashing out at anything that dared to try to get close to him. He was a jaded man who never thought himself worthy of kindness. He was impulsive, impatient, self-destructive, and, above all else, vengeful. Whoever has come knocking at your door is not the man who walked out of it. This man, whoever he may be, is humble, quiet, hesitant, and retrospective.

He’s also drunk and has been out wandering in the rain.

Dabi joins you on the couch before your mind can start spinning in circles, his white hair still sticking to his face and droplets cascading down his face, sapphire orbs shining with something you can’t quite put your finger on but still shakes you down to your core. He isn’t irate. He isn’t breaking furniture or complaining about Shigaraki’s next foolish move or ranting about how Endeavor has foiled his latest plan or about how he doesn’t trust Hawks and all of his easy smiles and charming laughter. He’s calm, his hands resting on his knees and eyes resting on your face, searching for something—a sign you’re ready to listen. And despite the wounds you’re still tending to and the bandages on your skin from all of the venomous words he flung at you, your heart and mind are open and willing to take whatever he wants to give you.

It’s an odd feeling to know you’re still okay with this man and all of his thick walls and bloodied hands even after he’s shown you the part of him he keeps buried underneath sneers and a mask of disinterest. Before his temper was turn towards you, you never believed him capable of murder, of violence, of all of those plans he stays up late stringing together and comes home battered and bruised from trying to execute. Before you saw how easily his hands can destroy, he was simply Dabi: the man you found face down and drowning in his own trauma. Now there’s burn marks on your furniture and soul in the shape of his palms, and though you aren’t too sure where to take the next step, you’re still wanting to take it regardless.

Topaz flits from your lips and back up to your eyes, the crystals dripping from his snow hair causing him to look ethereal. A hesitant Dabi is a rare sight, but a beautiful one nonetheless. “Do you want—”

“You must be cold,” you blurt out, shocking the both of you.

He cocks an eyebrow and the smirk you’re all too familiar with returns to his cracked lips. You’re nervous, fluttery, nerves causing you to act more erratic and unsure of yourself. It’s cute, he thinks, cute how you go from so stubborn and closed off to a school girl trying to keep the butterflies in her stomach from crawling up her throat. It’s also a relief to see you get jumpy around him like you used to before he kissed you until your minds turned to mush and your fingers tangled with his hair and he pinned you down to your mattress, bodies tangled so tightly together he wasn’t sure where he began and where you ended. You still care. “Yeah, rain is pretty cold.”

You nod a little too eagerly. “I’ll make you some tea.”

“You go do that, doll.”

“And I can get you a blanket.”

“If you want.”

“And I can make you some food.”

“Sure. I could eat.”

“And I’ll… I’ll be back!”

“Don’t be gone too long.”

He watches you leave with a grin full of amusement and affection, and that does nothing to help ease the anxiety rolling around in your gut. You feel clumsy, skittish, for all of the wrong reasons. You want to kiss him. You want to shake the water out of his shaggy hair and pull on the ends of it while his lips attack your neck. You want to wrap your legs around his waist and feel his thighs flex underneath you as he tries to pull you as close as possible. You want to hear all of those breathless moans that tumble from his lips whenever you nibble on his collarbone. You want to lose yourself in him. Forget the anger, the hurt, the nights spent shivering because you didn’t have him next to you, the mornings spent drinking tea alone and making enough food for one person. He’s back, and you’re almost certain he was forgiven before the moon disappeared from the sky the night he left.

You can feel his eyes burning a hole in your back as you prep your kettle to boil some water, watching the way your hands shake as you turn the burner on and how you nearly drop the lid to it, and you know for a fact he has that same smirk on his lips. Why are you so damn nervous around him now? He’s buried himself in you too many times to count, has whispered the most obscene things in your ear, has seen you at your most raw and unfiltered, and now you’ve turned into a neurotic mess? Why is your stomach doing somersaults and why is your heart slamming itself in your ribcage and why does your throat feel too large for your neck?

Because this Dabi isn’t the Dabi who left. You know in the deepest parts of your guts, past the pain and the hesitance, whoever is sitting on your couch is not the man who broke your table. And even if there’s alcohol swimming in his veins and an ego in need of nursing, there’s something alarmingly self-aware twinkling in his sapphires, something that lets you know he knows. He knows he hurt you. He knows he wasn’t in the right. He knows he bit the only hand that was willing and wanting to feed him. He knows your knuckles still bare his teeth marks. He knows it’s going to take more than a simple fuck to make everything okay again. Because, for the first time, it isn’t going to be simple with you. It isn’t going to be as simple as him needing a bandage and you pulling out a first aid kit. It isn’t going to be as simple as him being angry at the world and you helping him get lost in the stars. And he’s okay with it. He’s okay reopening any wounds that didn’t heal quite right. He’s okay with spilling every single word sitting in his guts. He’s okay complicating himself if that means making things easy for you. Because, like almost everything else that has to do with you, you’re simply worth it.

He speaks up while you’re digging through your closet trying to find a blanket suitable for him, his voice laced with an odd mixture of hesitance and bemusement. “While you’re being all fidgety and shit, can I tell you the other new things I’ve been trying?”

“If you want.” You echo his previous words, careful to keep the anxiety out of your voice, as you prepare to make a meal for him.

Though you can’t see him, he smiles—a real smile for once. No sarcasm or scorn buried underneath taut muscle. A genuine smile with genuine happiness and genuine love. As scary as it is, it’s something he could get used to if he doesn’t keep himself on a leash, but he thinks he might be okay with that. “I looked at myself in the mirror the day after I left.”

That stops all of your tense movements in their tracks. Mirrors have been Dabi’s worst fear since the day you met him, because they contain his worst enemy. He’s avoided them, broken them, used the shards to puncture his heart and lacerate his lungs. He’s covered them, screamed at them, tried to erase them from his memory. To look at himself in the mirror is to face himself head-on, and that’s something you never thought you’d see. “How was that?”

He chuckles, deep and sorrowful, a sound that comes from the bittersweet emotions he’s destroyed his feet trying to run from. “I fucking hated it. I’m a real scary looking bastard, eh?”

“No.” The word tumbles out of your mouth with a resoluteness Dabi never thought himself worthy of. Your eyes are full of conviction once they meet with his, your jaw set in the way that lets him know there isn’t anything that will change your mind.

It’s adorable how deeply you think he deserves love even after he’s shown you how much it can hurt, and he can’t help but chuckle at how quickly your demeanor can change when it comes to matters like self-hate and forgiveness. “Did you lose your eyesight while I was gone? Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I ain’t the prettiest face around here.”

You chew on your lip, careful that the words that leave your mouth help soothe the wounds on his mind. “I don’t care about your scars or your staples. I don’t care about the blood and gore. None of that matters.”

“Oh? Then what does? Because last I checked, society only likes pretty people with pretty quirks and pretty lives. Society doesn’t give a flying fuck about ugly bastards like me with ugly quirks and ugly lives.”

Dabi doesn’t expect you to answer, but you’ve always found ways to surprise him. The food on the kitchen counter is long forgotten about as you close the space between you two, your body just mere inches away from his. It’s the closest you’ve been since that night, and he has to fight the urge to pull you down on his lap. He doesn’t need to, apparently, because you’re practically sitting on it as your fingers trace over his brow bone with a touch so gentle, he could weep right then and there.

“What matters,” you whisper, “is how much your eyes shine when you laugh.” And then, your finger is tracing the corners of his mouth, ghosting over his lips. “What matters is how soft your lips are when they’re pressed on me.” And then, down the hollow of his throat down to his collarbone. “What matters is how you always smell like stale cigarettes and campfires.” And then, down his chest and right on the beginning of his abdomen. “What matters is how safe I feel when you’re holding me.” And finally, your palm rests right above his left peck, right over his hammering heart. “What matters is your passion, your drive, your determination. I don’t give a damn what society thinks about you. I think you’re beautiful, Touya.”

He knows it’s technically impossible but he swears he feels fireworks in his chest—bombastic, ribcage-breaking, heart-shattering, soul-cracking passion tearing his muscles apart until all that’s left is a body full of love. He loves you, and you think he’s beautiful, and he’s almost certain that, in this moment, everything is right in the world. “Can this beautiful man kiss you?” he breathes out, his eyes pleading with you to allow him to show you just how you’ve managed to piece him back together.

“Only if I can kiss him back,” you shyly reply.

If Dabi ever doubted the existence of angels, he knows now how terribly wrong he was, how utterly pessimistic and downright ignorant it was to doubt ethereal lives when he has one right here in his arms, sweet lips pressed against his, legs wrapped around his waist, arms pulling him closer and closer until your chests are touching and there’s not an inch of space between you two. Flashes of gold and thrones and feathers cross his mind as he breathes you in—all of the things he used to deny but now longs for. He wants to rule heaven with you, wants to make new worlds where other angels can’t follow and look down at him in disapproval, where he can’t hear their conspiratorial whispers of the saint who fell in love with the sinner, where he’s free to love you and worship you and allow his temporal hands roam your celestial body.

Dabi is a man who was born of corruption and gluttony and has fallen head over heels in love with purity and selflessness, and though he doubts he will ever think of himself worthy of such things, it won’t stop him from indulging. He is, after all, a bit greedy himself.

When his tongue brushes against yours and the taste of beer explodes in your mouth, you’re uncomfortably aware of the fact that only one of you is sober. You pull away, much to yours and his disappointment, but rest your forehead on his so you’re never too far from him. If you could, you would sew yourself to his skin, bury yourself in his bones and make a home out of his veins, play a prayer of love and devotion on loop so he knows that no matter how much heaven may shun sinners and all of their scars, you’re capable of a little rebellion every now and then.

But for now, while intoxication is a factor in a matter that should be dealt with a clear mind, you’ll settle for holding his hand.

“Dabi, you’re—”

“Drunk,” he finishes for you, a sort of sad smile on his face. “If it makes you feel better, I’m way more sober now.”

It’s a joke to help calm the guilt rolling around in your guts, you know it, and you brush your fingers against the corner of his mouth, wondering how long it’s been since he’s smiled and how often he might now. “Will you regret any of this in the morning?”

It stabs him right in the heart to hear such a question full of hesitance and apprehension asked so quietly, if he weren’t so dead set on catching every word that falls from your lips he might not have heard you. He feels the way your shoulders shake, can tell you’re just barely holding back tears, and he presses his hand to the back of your head to guide your face to the crook of his neck where you’re free to cry and hiccup however much you need. “I could never regret anything when it comes to you, baby. Why the tears?”

“I just…” A shaky sigh falls from your lips, your tears mixing with the droplets still clinging to his hair. “I thought I lost you before and now you’re back and I know technically you’re drunk but I know how sincere you are and it’s all just so—”

His fingers begin to massage circles into your shoulder blades, and he presses his lips to the side of your head, nose full of your scent and trying its best to burn it into his memory. “Babe.”

“Y-Yeah?” you hiccup.

“Fuckin’ breathe. It’s okay. It’s all okay. You didn’t lose me. I’m right here, baby, right fuckin’ here, and I’m not going anywhere. Not again. I fucked up, okay? I fucked up real bad and I know I did. I promise you, I’m not really drunk at all. I mean, I had a good buzz going on when I first showed up, but being here with you, talking with you, sobered me up real quick.”

And he sounds so genuine, so full of love and honesty, you can’t help but tangle your fingers in his hair, pull him so close you can feel his heartbeat against yours, bury your face right next to his jugular and commit mortality to memory. You cry until your eyes are almost swollen shut. You cry until your heart feels too large for your chest. You cry until your breath is a stuttering mess.

You cry for Dabi and all of the pain he’s carried around with him and no place to put it. You cry for Touya and all of the homes he’s lost and all of the times he was never enough. You cry for yourself and how deeply you love a man who only believes himself worthy of destruction. You cry for lost potential and empty promises of better tomorrows. You cry for broken furniture and shattered hearts because no one ever warned you love wasn’t easy. You cry and cry and cry until your voice is hoarse and the only thing you can taste is the salt cascading down your face.

And Dabi holds you through it all. His hands run up and down your back, gently rocking both of your bodies to a tune only he knows, his lips pressed against your head in hopes you can feel the adoration seeping out of his body. He allows you to unleash all of the emotions he’s stirred up in you. He catches every tear that falls from your eyes, thankful he’s unable to shed his own.

Once the world has stopped shifting and you’re able to steady yourself, he carries you to your bed without another word, a tender kiss against your forehead before he turns to leave.

“Where are you going?” you ask, barely managing to whisper.

He smiles down gently at you. “You left some food out. I was gonna put it away then crawl in bed.”

“Don’t care. Come to bed now.”

“Your wish is my command.”

With your face tucked away in his chest, your arms wrapped around his torso, and your legs tangled with his, Dabi falls into a peaceful sleep for the very first time since he learned that family will always be your first disappointment.

The fourth time you call Dabi by his name, he finally allows himself to drown in the emotions he’s spent his entire life learning to swim away from.

The sinner wakes up with angel feathers around his body, the spot where your body laid empty and cold but scent still clinging onto the sheets. He quickly finds himself in a familiar routine of glaring at the nosy sun peeking through curtains and violating his eyes, cursing his nocturnal nature and how much easier it is to be himself in front of the moon and stars. After contemplating if going back to sleep is worth it (it isn’t), he drags his body out of bed and into a warm shower. The smell of your shampoo is somewhere to be found in the leftover steam of your own shower, and he smiles to himself when he remembers where he’s at: home. And it isn’t a home where dishes are broken and voices crack and plead. It isn’t a home where fear sits in the living room and stress waits for him in the kitchen. It isn’t a home where he’s expected to be an adult with obligations without ever knowing what it’s like to be a child full of wonder.

It’s a home where angels sing in the kitchen as they cook breakfast while he tries to wash his sins away in the bathroom and that, he thinks, is the closest to perfection he will ever get.

He walks into the kitchen with a towel around his waist and his scars on full display—new ones angry and red, old ones melancholy and purple—and, for once, he isn’t afraid. He doesn't try to hide them under baggy clothes and jeering words. He allows your eyes to run over them and wince at the fresh ones and squint at the old ones, because he knows you aren’t disgusted by them, you don’t pity him, you accept them as they are—reminders of times where he strayed too close to the fire.

“Morning, baby,” he says around a yawn as he sits at your table.

You smile softly at him and how easy he finds it to be around you. “You’re really laying the ‘baby’ stuff on thick, huh?”

“I mean, you only let me call you a cockslut when you’re being one, and I don’t see you on your knees right now so…”

Flustered, you quickly turn back around to tend to the salmon and eggs you’ve been cooking, probably adding far too much salt but trying to not pay attention to how much your hands are shaking. This causes Dabi to laugh—gentle, deep, melodic in a sense, carefree and raspy. “Oh, so you think you’re Mr. Funny Man, hm?” you challenge, though you don’t dare face him.

“I think I’m downright hilarious, baby.”

“Well, that makes one of us.”

“Whatever you say, baby.”

You swat a tea towel at him, which he quickly dodges with a grin, and you roll your eyes. “You aren’t giving up any time soon, are you?”

“Do I ever? Baby.”

“Point taken.”

Breakfast is eaten in comfortable silence—Dabi radiating a happiness you never thought possible, you soaking it all in with a sense of relief. He takes his time as he eats, as if he’s savoring every flavor crawling around his tongue, contemplative as his teeth shred his food to tiny pieces. You admire the sight of his furrowed brow and bright eyes as you sip on your tea, unsure of what to say and worried what you do want to say will scare him away. So rather than choke on the words sitting in the back of your throat, you take this opportunity to inspect his body. After all, it isn’t every day Dabi is comfortably shirtless, especially in the sun’s rays where all of his flaws are visible for anyone and everyone to see.

You spot the newer burns sitting close to his hips, not quite as wrathful as the older ones resting on his chest, but still containing a torment you don’t think you’ll ever understand firsthand (and you doubt he’d want you to). When he first began showing up at your doorstep and all you knew about him was he looked different than anyone else you knew, you used to tell yourself stories about his scars—how he got them, how painful they were, which ones are newer than the others, which ones were self-inflicted and which ones were done by a resentful hand, how they all come together for form a man who’s become a sort of expert when dealing with macabre things.

If it bothers him to have your attention so focused on things he tries so hard to hide, he’s never said anything about it. When he first noticed how fixated you were on his scars, he cupped your chin and tilted your head up, forcing you to look at his sapphires full of curiosity and hesitance.

“Little distracted there, doll,” he observed.

“Do they hurt?”

He blinked, unsure of what to make of your harmless tone. “Not really. If I get new ones, they hurt like a motherfucker, but I get used to it after a few days.”

“Are they hard to take care of?”

“No. I’ve been taking care of them for a while now so it’s not a big deal.”

Your fingers gently traced the staples on his collarbone, careful to not pluck at any, not a hint of disgust to be found on your angelic face. “Can you teach me how?”

He jolted back and immediately guarded himself behind walls high enough to reach the heavens. Suspicion clouded his eyes, laced through his tone and made his muscles more rigid. “Why?”

“So I can help you take care of them,” you replied, as if everything were really that simple, and Dabi swore he saw a flash of angel wings fluttering on your back.

Back in the present, Dabi watches your eyes fill with nostalgia, a small smile on your face as your fingers trace the rim of your mug. He thinks he can stare at you all day if you would allow him to. He thinks he could spend the rest of forever memorizing all of the expressions you make as you try to dissect mortality and why seraphic beings are so fascinated with it. He knows that eventually, sacrifices will have to be made and one of you will lose themself serving a god who doesn’t like those in love with vengeance while the other one tries to pluck their own eyes out so they may be blind to how much suffering they’ve caused. But, for now, he’s happy being the fool in love who flew too close to the sun.

“Little distracted there, baby,” he chuckles, gathering up your dishes and placing them in the sink. “Am I just that handsome?”

“You never did teach me how to help take care of them,” you reply with a somber tone.

The mug he’s holding nearly slips out of his hand when your words reach his ears. So you really were thinking about morality and all of its ugliness. He tries his hardest to keep his voice light, to not show how much he envies angels and how easy ignorance is for them. “They aren’t yours to take care of.”

“No, but I’d like to help.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Because I love you. There is it again, that goddamn sentence that always manages to stick itself to the roof of your mouth. You’re choking on it, trying to allow oxygen to flow through lungs that are turning inside out because you can’t seem to find the courage to say you love a sinner in a world that shuns blood and fire. Acid fills your throat as your lips try to form the words burning at your gums. I love you, I love you, I love you. Why is it so hard to say? Why is love such a scary thing even though it presents itself as a cure for everything wrong in the world? Why does your kitchen seem smaller than before? Why are there black spots dancing in front of your eyes? Why is Dabi so afraid of anything he can’t burn and why are you afraid of giving him a reason to leave?

“Because…?” he prompts you, oblivious to your inner turmoil.

You try to flash an easy smile at him, though you fear it may look strangled. “Because I don’t want you to bleed everywhere if you miss a spot.”

That certainly isn’t the answer he was expecting given the way a chuckle stutters out of his throat, but he finds himself laughing until he’s nearly bent at the waist and struggling to catch his breath. It’s a beautiful sound, one full of long-lost joy and too many cigarettes smoked under a full moon, one that cups your heart and kisses it tenderly. “Well, I don’t want to ruin any more furniture,” he hums. “Better teach ya’ the secrets to my staples and how to make this mug oh-so pretty.”

After dishes have been washed and food has been stored away, you usher Dabi back to the bathroom and pull out the first aid kit you’ve learned to keep handy. He guides you with a firm hand and soft voice, tells you how to properly disinfect the burns and where to place the staples so they hold everything together, teaches you how to keep your fingers from shaking and how to not wince whenever metal punctures flesh. Keeping someone from falling apart shouldn’t feel so intimate, but with every staple placed into taut skin a jolt of something warm, something precious, something so fragile you’re afraid if you acknowledge it it’ll fall apart, spreads across your chest and causes sunlight to pour out of your hands.

With every brush of your fingers, the sinner is slowly learning to admire sunrises and how they highlight all of the things he tries to hide in the night. It’s not an easy task, and he struggles to fight the urge to find solace in galaxies littered across the sky, but if it means he can admire your face under the rays then he’ll bear through it all. You’re so close to him—the closest you’ve been in weeks. He can see every eyelash, every pore, every bit of stardust swimming under your skin and all of the oceans running through your veins. His body might contain destruction, but yours contains creation—the secrets to all of the universes and how to create life out of pure love. And maybe it’s a bit of an oxymoron to have such opposing things crash together, but Dabi is not a simple man and he doesn’t like simple things.

“Can I tell you the other new things I’ve been trying?” he asks timidly.

You look up in a pair of frightened sapphires and nod slowly, shyly. “Yes.”

Long, slender fingers stop your hand from placing another staple into him, and rough lips kiss all of the suns in your palms. His voice shakes when he speaks, nearly as much as his soul does, but he still forces the words out. “I’ve been trying out this...thing. It’s pretty fuckin’ scary. To be honest, I never thought I’d try it. And to be even more honest, I thought it was too late for me to try it. I thought it came with an expiration date, y’know? Like those credit card offers you get in the mail that say some bullshit like, ‘This offer is only good for the next two weeks! Sign up now!’ But recently, I learned that now is the perfect time to try it.”

“And what is it?”

The air is filled with anticipation, with words that have sat in throats for far too long, with feelings that have been locked away in chests, with pasts that have refused to die, with futures that may never live, with closets overfilling with skeletons. It’s suffocating, terrifying, absolutely world-shattering. But with your gift of creation, Dabi can destroy as much as he wants without worrying about leaving any new nasty scars on planets. He’s free to be himself, to unleash as much fire as he wants, and you’ll be right behind him, sweeping up ashes and leaving life in their wake.

“Love.”

Once the word drips from his tongue and lands right on your chest, the world stops turning. Stars can no longer be found and the moon buried itself in a black hole and oceans stop their waves. Angels have stopped fussing about forgiveness and gods are no longer worried about who deserves to be smited next. The entire universe and beyond has ceased to expand because all that matters in this moment is how Dabi’s heart is no longer caged and you’re no longer afraid to play with fire.

Tears fill your eyes before you can stop them, and Dabi brushes his thumb across your eyelashes. “You love me.” It isn’t a question, and it certainly doesn’t need an answer, but he offers you one anyway.

“I love you, and I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to realize.”

If the sinner didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought he heard the angels begin to sing. But trivial things like sins and purity, heaven and hell, angels and demons, don’t matter because none of them could ever feel as freeing as loving you. He’s no longer bound by the past and all of its bloodshed, and he thinks it’s okay to forget it sometimes. His fingers shake as they brush tears away you didn’t even know you have shed, careful to not taint your divine skin with his infernal hands, a shy sort of smile on your lips as you pull his body closer to yours. He protests that you’ll get blood on your clothes, and you shush him by telling him you’ve always been fascinated with mortals anyway, and neither of you are sure who initiated it but your lips are slotting together and you remember why heaven never felt like home.

Before you could get lost in how good it feels to not have to worry about serving a vengeful god, Dabi picks you up and carries you to your bedroom, chest flush against yours and hearts beating in sync. He’s gentle as he lays you on your bed, careful to not disturb your wings and all of the feathers falling from your back. His fingers graze your thighs, and for a moment he fears he may be cast down to the deepest pits of hell before he’s able to worship you the way you deserve. But then, you pull his face down to yours and kiss him as if he hasn’t spent his entire life in search of his next big sin and, suddenly, hell is worth being dragged through as long as it means he gets to hold your hand.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips. “I love you, I love you, I fucking love you, angel.”

Shaky fingers trace his jawline as if he were going to crumble to desk any second. “I love you, too. It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay. Everything is okay.”

He didn’t even realize he had blood droplets welling in his eyes until you gently wiped them away, fingertips glistening with newly formed rubies and trembling as you try to get rid of any evidence of sadness. Rather than trying to voice all of the emotions crawling up his throat, he kisses the wet pads of your digits, a silent thank you for teaching him that even the most corrupt of souls can be saved. Cracked lips trace over soft skin, and though it serves as a reminder of the different worlds you serve, the villain can’t help but lose himself in all of the pretty little noises falling from your mouth. It’s hypnotizing how you can make something as simple as a few breathy moans sound like the same harps in the clouds he’s spent his entire life trying to run away from. He’s barely taken your shirt and pants off and you’re already heaving underneath him—the visual reassurance he needed to know that you’ve been waiting for this moment just as eagerly as he had. And right as he lowers his head towards your thighs to provide the relief you’ve both needed, you stop him short, trembling hand finding purchase in his snowy locks.

“Angel…?” Sapphires full of questions scan your face, but he waits for you to speak, waits for your explanation, waits for you. He’s spent his entire life waiting for someone—something—like you, what’s a few more seconds?

You look hesitant—eyes darting around the room, incisors digging into your lower lip, heart thumping in the hollow in your throat—and, if Dabi didn’t know any better, scared. “I...uh...I’m unprepared.”

He blinks up at you. “I’m not following. What do you mean ‘unprepared’? No condoms? I’m fairly certain I’ve fried all of my swimmers so there’s a very small chance you’ll get knocked up, and I promise you no one has touched me in years so there’s no risk of any infections. There’s always Plan B too if I still have a few stubborn lil’ guys desperate to create a crotch goblin and—”

“No,” you cut him off, the heels of your hands digging into your eyes. “I haven’t...y’know...taken care of things down south in a while…”

A laugh bubbles up his throat once he realizes what your implications are. You haven’t shaved. He’s covered in nightmarish scars and staples, lanky body trying to destroy itself every second he’s alive, and you’re worried about some body hair? It almost pains him to think that you’re so self-conscious of something so miniscule, so human, so mundane it doesn’t even deserve a second thought. Who turned you away for keeping one of your temporal traits? Who shunned you for wanting to be mortal?

“Angel,” he breathes between chuckles, his knuckles brushing against your cheek and pulling your hands away from your face. “Have you looked at me at all? Like, really looked at me?”

You meekly nod.

“Then you’ll know that I’m the last person to give a fuck about some hair. Hell, I can’t even grow my own body hair because it’s all burned to shit. Your body hair is a part of you, therefore, I love it. I don’t care if you grow it, shave it, wax it, whatever. That’s your choice. So don’t be so ashamed of it, yeah? If you can look past my fuckin’ terrifying scars, I can look past a few hairs, okay?”

Rough fingers trace a soft cheek, and you find yourself nodding again, spreading your legs and allowing him access to the place he craves to be most. You’re completely and utterly intoxicating looking down at him through unshed crystals, fingers playing with the strands of his hairs while he tries to memorize how you look in this exact moment because he’s sure this is the closest to heaven he’ll ever get. He’s tender as he traces your soaking slit with his calloused digit, careful to not rush you nor taint you with the impermanence of humanity. A bit of stardust falls out of your mouth when you moan out his name, and he’s disappointed in himself for not bringing a mason jar so he may keep all of your celestial beauty on a shelf as a reminder that not everything is as ugly as he is. Still, he considers himself the luckiest mortal to ever grace this earth to see you wriggling underneath him, see how your mouth goes slack when his finger brushes against your swollen clit, hear how soft your pleas for more are, to know that even the holiest of angels are capable of a little sin.

“What’s that, baby?” he coos down at you, fingers never leaving the apex of your thighs.

The mewl you let out is cut short by a whimper as he drags his fingers down your fluttering hole, gathering up all of your juices and licking them clean, sapphires never leaving your face. It’s the most erotic thing you’ve been blessed enough to see, so fucking sexy and world-shattering as he brings his hand down to grind his palm against your throbbing heat. Lowering his body over yours, he nips at the sensitive shell of your ear, licking and sucking on the afflicted skin until you’re bucking your hips against his hand.

“S’matter, sweetheart?” he asks with feigned sympathy. “Can’t handle a little teasing?”

But, oh god, if only you knew how he’s barely hanging on. This last shred of control he’s somehow maintained is about to burst at the seams, tear his world to shreds until all he knows is you and all of your feathers and glittering halo. He’s a mere mortal who somehow found a way to break into heaven, and he’s about to lose himself amongst all of the clouds if he lets go. He can’t, not yet, not when he’s still unsure if you love him as much as he needs you, not when he’s afraid of you regretting having an affair with ephemeral beings. You deserve better than him, he’s sure of it, but you’re looking up at him with eyes full of stars and wonder and he can’t stop himself from breaking down his own walls he’s spent a lifetime building up.

Trembling hands grab at his neck, his hair, anything they can grasp to pull him closer, closer, closer. You want him, you need him, all of him, every last scar, every little staple, every tear he had shed before crying became impossible, every blood-curdling scream that has left his throat, every word that has dripped from his tongue, every insecurity that haunts his heart, everything. You need Dabi, you need Touya Todoroki, you need the man you found facedown in an alleyway, you need the man who shattered your soul and furniture, you need the man who came back and pieced them both back together. You need him, and he’s never been more sure of it than in this moment.

“I don’t think you’ll ever realize how beautiful you are,” he whispers, breath hot against your cool skin.

But before you can reply, his tongue is running along your folds and his hands are intensely gripping your hips and, oh my god, you swear you see stars on your ceiling. He drags his tongue across your pussy like a starved man, moaning and panting in sync with every noise that falls from your chest, determined to make you cum, desperate to earn every ounce of praise you’ve ever given him. Sapphires clouded with lust and love gaze up at you as a hot mouth toys with your desire, and you’re certain this is what it’s like to be worshiped in the best way possible. You brush your thumb against his cheek, a signal that he’s so good, the best possible devotee and all of his acts of worship won’t go in vain.

“F-F-Fuck,” you mewl, and earn a groan from him in return, the verberations hitting your pussy and causing supernovas to explode behind your eyes. “Oh, please, just like that! You’re so good, Dabi, so fucking good!”

His index finger replaces his tongue, languid strokes against your sopping heat as he tries to catch his breath. “Goddammit, you’re perfect.” His voice is somewhere between a moan and a whine, syllables catching in his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing as he attempts to swallow down all of the words flooding his esophagus. “You’re so fucking perfect for me and I’m so in love with you it hurts.” He’s in awe, completely and utterly in shock that such an innocent creature—one with stars in their skin and oceans in their veins and all of the secrets to love and life trapped between their flower-filled lungs—can look at him with such…adoration. Passion, trust, tenderness, bliss—they’re all there, swimming in your irises, dancing across your face, beating in your chest.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

And it isn’t out of pity. He isn’t some sick stray dog you found and nursed back to health and fell in love with along the way. You love him as if you had no other choice to, as if your heart would explode without him, as if the world would stop turning if he left. And, god, does he love you. He loves you like Icarus loved the sun—dangerously, self-destructive and self-aware, knowing he’ll never be worthy but still determined to be close with you at least once during this lifetime.

“I love you,” he murmurs again, fingers finding your cunt and mouth attaching itself to your clit again.

He’s a starved animal, deprived of love and selfishly taking as much as he can now that he’s in a home full of it. But there’s not a damn thing selfish about the way he loves you, about the way he circles his tongue around your clit, about the way hs dips his slender fingers into your throbbing heat and grazes your gummy walls, about how his other hand is touching as much of your soft skin as he can—your breasts, your nipples, your hips, the swell of your ass, your legs, just everything, everything, everything, so he knows what dedication feels like.

Bony hips rut against your mattress in a desperate search for some form of relief, but he can’t stop himself from devouring every little piece of you until your halo falls off and you’re free from the clutches of a cruel god. You were never truly happy amongst the clouds, were you? Always forced to be something you weren’t, forced to shun anyone who was less than perfect, forced to convert anyone who didn’t believe.

But now, in this moment, with the very same face you were taught to fear is buried between your legs, when you’re stripped down to the bone and all of your galaxies are setting the room alight, when your soul is naked and free to be handled by even the most scarred of hands… You’ve never felt more free.

Your fingers pull on his wintry locks in an attempt to bring him closer to you, closer to heaven and all of its promises of healing. “I—” Dabi cuts your whines off by flattening his tongue against your clit, sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves and pumping his fingers faster. “F-Fuck…! I’m so close! Wan’ cum, please, wan’ cum so badly!”

You’re barely hanging on. Flashes of gold dance in front of your eyes and you’re almost certain it’s a part of your halo falling, but who needs angels when the sinner right between your legs is the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen? He’s quivering—so overwhelmed with the trust you’ve given a man with bloodied hands to not taint your precious body that he can’t help but try to give you every ounce of reassurance that yes, he is trustworthy! He’s worthy! Even with scarlet stains on ivory skin and graveyards full of regrets, he’s been deemed worthy of one of heaven’s most pure angels.

The fifth time you call Dabi by his name, he’s ready to completely throw away his previous life in favor of everything holy and pure.

Your thighs are shaking around his head, hands tangling themselves in his hair and pulling for dear life, and he knows you’re so, so close to that final push that will permanently brand you a fellow sinner.

“Tell me how much you need it, angel,” he all but pleads against your pussy, the pace of his fingers becoming faster and sloppy, desperate, haphazard circles being drawn into your clit and hungry teeth nipping at your flesh. “Tell me how much you need me. Oh my fucking god, baby, please tell me how much you need it. I need to hear it. I need it, I need you.”

“Touya, I need you,” you cry out. It’s a demand—give me all of you and let me love every piece. It’s a plea—love me as much as I love you and don’t ever leave my side. It’s a promise—I’ll wash every wound for you if it means I get to be close to you. It’s everything Dabi could have ever wished for and more—an angel finally allowing themself to be free of their divine restraints in order to love the very same thing that might kill them. “Oh, fuck, I need you. I need you, I need you, I need you.”

You love him, you love him, you love him.

His ears are filled with your prayers and his mouth is full of your ambrosia and his chest is full of all of the suns you’ve saved for him, and, for a moment, he thinks he’d be okay if he died right now. Your whimpers are intoxicating, the very same harm that tempts every sinner with a tainted soul. The pleasure that has been rumbling and knotting deep within your gut finally snaps with a few licks to your clit and his knuckles brushing against your slick walls, and you’re sure that you’ve officially lost your heavenly status. It’s worth it. It’s all worth seeing Dabi looking up at you with his hypnotizing topazes and smile that would make God himself weep.

Unsteady hands grab at his sharp face, heavenly fingers swiping away the rubies that have begun to cascade down his cheeks and splash on the bed sheets, a wobbly smile on cracked lips.

“You’re crying,” you observe, tender as you try to pull him close to you. “Are you okay?”

But rather than answer you, Dabi takes both of your wrists in one of his hands and delicately pins them over your head, his other hand tracing your body with feather-light touches. He’s measured with his ministrations, hesitant, careful to keep all of the flaws trapped in his bones away from you and all of the galaxies in yours.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” The rubies are still falling from his topazes and all you can think of is how terribly wrong he is because he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Not the clouds in the sky, not the other angels fleeting around carelessly, not the supernovas you see every night, not the sunrises you see every morning. Nothing could measure up to how painfully beautiful it is watching Dabi finally accepting the love you’ve been trying to offer him for what feels like a lifetime.

“You’re gorgeous,” you manage to reply, voice and heart wobbly. “You’re handsome and beautiful and—”

Rough lips slotting against yours cuts you off, calloused fingers cupping your face, and when he finally releases his hold on you, you wrap your arms around his neck. He’s shaking like a lost child, salty tears and copper mixing with your hungry kisses and clashing against greedy tongues. Your chests heave together as sobs wrack both of your bodies, so desperate to finally be together after heaven was so determined to keep you separated. Fumbling hands rip the towel that clung to his hips off, and he sinks himself into you, his hips stuttering with every centimeter he pushes through.

The sixth time you call Dabi by his name, he understands why generations of men have gone to war to feel a fraction of what he’s drowning in—earth-shattering, skin-searing, sanity-robbing fulfillment.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head, stars exploding under your skin, you dig your fingernails into his back as he snaps his hips against yours. He’s lost in you and all of your healing touches, all of the prayers echoing in your chest, all of the feathers falling down your back and glitter falling down your face. He’s completely and utterly in love with the saint underneath him, and he silently vows to protect you until his dying breath.

“A-Angel,” he groans, his pace sloppy as he tries to chase the high only you can provide him. “Oh, f-fuck, you feel so fucking good. You’re so good to me. So goddamn perfect. I love you so fucking much. Please, don’t leave me.”

Somehow, some way, you manage to find your voice and sob, “I love you, Touya, love you more than anything! ‘M not going anywhere, I promise.”

The seventh time you call Dabi by his name, he allows the past to die and begins to set up a home for the future.

His hips stutter when the sound of his name falls on his ears, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck to bring your chest flush against his. “Say it again,” he pleads. “Say my name again. Just like that, baby, say it again.”

“Touya!”

The eighth time you call Dabi by his name, he swears he sees a flash of golden gates.

He kisses the hollow of your throat, watching the way your pulse skyrockets at his touch. “Again.”

“Touya!”

The ninth time you call Dabi by his name, he starts to feel galaxies form under his own skin, and it’s then he knows his sins have been forgiven.

He’s drunk on purity and innocence and forgiveness—all of the things he’s been denied his entire life but has found waiting for him in your ribcage. “Again.”

“Touya!”

And though he knows he’s just a greedy man who was lucky enough to catch the attention of God's greatest servant, he thinks he might be able to sit in heaven with you. He hopes, for just a moment, he might be able to see all of the golden gates and hear all of the harps that have haunted his dreams. His soul is still tainted with broken promises and broken families, but laying right underneath him, with the secret to healing and the key to salvation in their palm, is the very definition of love and everything right in the world.

And hovering right above you, with all of his passion and determination, with all of his flaws put on display for anyone to scrutinize, is a reminder of how beautiful and brave it is to be human in a world that only praises heavens. His cock brushes against your cervix, his lips kiss every inch of skin they can touch, his hands are buried in his hair, his voice is rough with desire and need, and nothing in heaven could ever be as breath-taking as Touya Todoroki.

“Oh my fucking god,” he moans against your skin. “I love you, angel. I need you.”

Lost in love and all of its intricacies, you whine and buck your hips up in sync with his, grinding your clit against his pelvis and sobbing at the galaxies you both are creating. Your own heaven to get lost in, where gods can’t spy and angels can’t judge. Where forgiveness is commonplace and greed is acceptable. Where family is who you choose it to be and love isn’t a tool for manipulation. Where everything is simple and pure and right.

And although Dabi is not a simple man and does not like simple things, Touya is learning that simplicity holds its own beauty worthy of loving.

The tenth time you call Dabi by his name, he’s ready to allow himself to be loved without any attachments, any suspicions, any ill will—the past, along with Dabi, have finally laid to rest.

“I love you, Touya,” you cry out, and he’s sure that it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. “I love you so much!”

You’re close to coming undone—he can feel how much your pussy is clamping down on him and how your voice becomes more and more distorted by hiccups and sobs. He just needs a little more, just a little more to add the finishing touches to your heaven and build a throne out of gold. Just a little more, just so he can relish in how sweet forgiveness tastes and how good it feels to no longer bear the burden of corruption.

“I love you too,” he whispers into your hair. “I love you more than anything in this world.”

His thrusts are becoming sloppier and sloppier with each passing minute, and he knows he’s only a few pumps away from spilling over. Cupping your face with his hands, he uses his thumb to brush away the tears streaming down your cheek and slots his lips against yours in a moment of heated passion.

“Cum, angel, cum for me,” he pleads, angling his cock brushes against scared places in you. “Cum for me, cum with me, just cum, baby, cum.”

Who would’ve known the creation of a new heaven could feel so sinful? Clutching his body to yours as much as you can, you cry out his name followed by a string of curses as your pussy milks him for every last drop he has. His bliss follows right after yours, and he bites down on your shoulder to keep himself from groaning too loudly so as to not drown out your melodic cries. Visions of gold and white and purity flash before his eyes as cock throbs inside of you.

His body goes limp on top of yours, breath shaky and bloody stars falling from his eyes. He thinks he can feel your fingers running through his hair, but he’s so high on simplicity and absolution he can’t seem to feel anything except your heart beating against his. Tender lips press against his sweaty temple, and he buries his face deeper into the crook of your neck.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles after a beat of silence. “For everything. I should’ve realized sooner. I…I should’ve been stronger.”

Delicately, you bring his face out of its hiding space to press your forehead against yours, examining the regret and hesitance dancing inside sapphire. “All that matters,” you whisper “is that you did realize. I’ll be your strength if you’re feeling weak. I’ll be your shoulder to cry on. There’s nothing to worry about. All is forgiven.”

And for the very first time in his life, Touya no longer feels like a sinner forced to bear the wrongdoings of a greedy man. He no longer feels like the product of selfishness and vanity gone awry. He no longer feels like a family secret buried in the backyard never to be spoken of or acknowledged.

Touya Todoroki feels like a man with his entire life ahead of him, an angel by his side and a heaven to come home to, and that, he thinks, is more than anyone with a past such as his can hope for.

#❀.mine #touya todoroki x reader #dabi x reader #touya x reader #todoroki x reader #touya todoroki smut #touya todoroki x you #toya todoroki x reader #toya todoroki x you #toya todoroki smut #dabi smut

[suenitos]

when almost everyone on that panel said george is never serious and can always make them laugh and dream is like actually ☝️ he’s always been serious when i need him to be and supports me. like we get it your the exception and he’s in love with you whateverrrrr

you have to be a special type of person completely in love with and devoted to another person to help them do their taxes when their country uses a completely different tax system than yours and publicly support them coming out when almost no one else did and move countries to be with them while intertwining that and their most major milestone of their career by far into a single event that can’t be separated and you don’t mind being somewhat not the main event for most people outside your audience hearing about it because everything that’s his is yours and be there as a quiet support to them behind the scenes for EVERYTHING every single controversy every single success every single second and consciously choose over and over to keep following them wherever they go because you trust them completely to the point of religion and you may not have believed in marriage but you believe in them and suddenly you’re sold on marriage and after so many years you feel like you can be completely vulnerable around them because they make you feel safe and you can tell them everything bad you did and they would still love you anyway and do everything in their power to help you figure it out because you’ve always done that and been there for them . like idk you wouldn’t do that for just about anyone even if they are your friends like that’s your person inside and out they deserve all sides of you in return even the most private serious sides of you you don’t show anyone else

#anon.txt #ask.txt #dnf.txt #Jesus Christ I am so sorry

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 10

part 1, prev part

The next day, the Chief is back looking like a man on a mission. Catching Wayne’s eye while he’s on his way in, but interrupted when the Harrington kid steps in his path. Talking to him in hushed whispers, but tense as hell.

The chief sighs, cocking his head to the side and bringing the kid to talk outside. Wayne isn’t the person to eavesdrop, but after yesterday, after the endless questions with no answers, he is desperate for an explanation.

An explanation why his kid is stuck on a hospital bed while Steve is walking around like he has every right to. Like he isn’t part of the reason his boy was halfway to dead for the past week.

What made his boy protect a person that he seemed to hate? A person who’s had everything handed to him, never had to experience real hardships. Stood on the sidelines while his boy was mocked and taunted. Ostracized for being who he was. Molded into this villain.

Kings look down on villains, seeing them as threats to their status. Their reputation. And the Harrington’s are part of the rulers of this town. Funding the high school extracurriculars, the hospital, the candidates on the ballots. Money that, in the grand scheme of reality, Wayne couldn’t give a shit where it goes.

Until it comes between him, his kid, and their lives. Eddie could’ve died, and for what? So the rich can keep being that? So they can keep coming out on top.

Wayne understands why Eddie would throw himself into danger for Dustin. Hell, he probably would have done the same thing. But Steve Harrington. Wayne’s not so sure that’s the path he would choose.

Taking the last cigarette from the pack, Wayne positions himself near the corner of the hospital. Hearing the Chief and Harrington talking right around the bend. Taking a long drag, he tilts his ear up to listen.

Living in a trailer park made everyone a secret gossip. Wayne just never thought he was going to do it like this.

“What about Owens?” Steve’s not so hushed voice carries around the corner. “He seems to be the one to fix all your problems.”

Wayne can hear the annoyance in the Chief’s voice. “Either still in hiding or avoiding my calls. I’ve had to go through his partner for all of this.”

“We need to fix this, Hop, and fast. Eddie can’t be pinned for this shit.”

“I know.” The Chief takes a deep breath. “But the town needs a fall guy. I can’t take the cuffs off just yet.”

Steve hisses a breath. “He’s been getting better. Doesn’t have the ventilator anymore, could wake up any day now. He doesn’t deserve to wake up thinking the town still hates him for something he was a victim of.”

“Kid, I know but I can’t-.”

Steve cuts him off. “I saw how effected his was by all this, Hop. I saw how upset he was thinking the town thought he could do that to her. To all of them. All of them willing to pick up their pitchforks to hunt the freak. He was terrified.”

Wayne feels the anger start to simmer up again. Hearing this kid put words in his boy’s mouth. Saying that he knows everything.

Maybe he does. Maybe Wayne’s blowing this all out of proportion. But he can’t help it. He’s tired, his hope is running dry. One wrong move and he’ll snap. Harrington’s just an easy target.

“I hear you,” the Chief’s voice raises. “But I really can’t-.”

Steve cuts his off again. “Yes, you can and that is the whole problem.”

“No, I can’t.” The hushed screams turn to louder reprimands. “Until the Feds get what they want, I’m powerless here.”

“But if it was El, that would be a completely different story, wouldn’t it?”

Even though Wayne can’t see them, the silence is so thick not even the sharpest blade could cut through it. Steve pushed the wrong button.

“Don’t go there, Steve.” The quiet anger in the Chief’s voice is enough to make anyone step down.

Steve doesn’t. “I am going there.” Steve’s voice has almost reached a yell. Full of anger of his own. “You do everything when it’s affecting you, and the people you care about. But as soon as it’s someone else that might get the fall, you step back and say you can’t do a damn thing.”

“I can’t do a damn thing,” the Chief booms.

“Yes. You. Can,” Steve yells right back. “If it were El, or Joyce, or Will, hell even Mike there strapped to that table right now, the cuffs would have been off the second you came back. No matter what. You would have taken the fall of that. You would have taken the Fed’s anger about it. You would have fucking done something about it. Why not now?”

Before the Chief can even answer the question, Steve is walking away with a huff. Not even noticing Wayne as he walks right back to the parking lot and slams the door of his fancy car. Driving away faster than he should.

Wayne might be directing the anger that sits in his chest at the wrong person.

But all of that doesn't seem to matter anymore. Almost immediately as his sits back in the hospital room, ready for nothing to happen. Eddie opens his eyes.

tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondepresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

#chills right to the marrow fic #stranger things #stranger things au #wayne munson #wayne pov #steve harrington #jim hopper #pre steddie #everyone lives/nobody dies

[summerrain123]

A little part of Padmé always wanted to settle down and have a family before that craving enhanced after she had met Anakin again, but before that point, she never indulged in any of her personal affairs because she felt a strong sense of duty. However I want to point out that this wasn’t the only reason. It’s true that Padmé is a workaholic and never found time to settle down. But this is also due to the fact that in her life, nobody ever peaked her interest enough or quite literally ever for her to want to “choose” them over her duty, the way Anakin does.

Padmé mentions in AOTC novel that the men who took an “interest” in her were never genuine and mostly always had an ulterior motive with her due to her status as a politician. This was one of the main factors why she never took interest in anyone till someone with a big heart as Anakin came along:

Padmé didn’t only neglect her personal desires because she was inclined to her duties but also because she wasn’t impressed with anyone that came around her, and most likely was waiting on the “right one” whenever that time came, or she just simply didn’t think much about this topic again (despite that she desires a settled life.) till of course “the one” {aka Anakin} unexpectedly came back into her life.

Padmé needed someone who was like her and in that sense, I mean someone who is as genuine, passionate, kind, generous, wears their heart on their sleeve, loving, loyal, etc and shared the same sentiments and emotional energy as she did and see her for who she was (as “Padmé” and not as Queen or Senator.) and only Anakin Skywalker fits the criteria Padmé desires. To put it more bluntly, only Anakin Skywalker could’ve truly won Padmé Amidala’s heart. He was the only one that can match her heart and soul, and love her as she is and not as whom she appears as. In conclusion, nobody else ever stood a chance, cause it wouldn’t have worked with anyone else. It had to be Anakin.

I think Catherine Taber (the voice of Padmé in TCW) said it best when she mentioned how Anakin is the only exception in which Padmé thinks with her “heart” instead of her “mind”. Anakin was the only one who had this affect on her and vice versa.

To top it off, Padmé confirms this as well in Queen’s Hope.

#anidala #padme amidala #star wars #anakin skywalker #sw novels #attack of the clones novelization #queen’s hope #padmé really is anakinsexual #we all already know anakin is padmesexual ofc