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acotarxreader · 9 hours

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Other Worlds

Azriel x reader

Synopsis: Nesta accidentally pulls you from our realm into theirs and a certain Spymaster can't help but be enamoured.

Original Request: "So I was wondering if you could do like Reader is from the modern world but ends up in the ACOTAR world, and ends up like falling in love with one of batboys."

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of cuts from a fall, my silly wordplay

A/N: I loved writing this, it really had me in my silly sense of humor (at one point Azriel is jealous because he thinks Xanax is a person) and just like also so happy to have written my first request! I hope you like it Anon and tolerate my silliness.

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“Do you think she’s dead?”

“Hard to say, you fall that height and would expect it” Nesta gently rocked the body back and forth with the sole of her shoe and you groaned.

“This is exactly why you shouldn’t practice without Amren Nesta” Feyre bit out.

“And how was I supposed to know that a human would fall out of the sky? And besides, I did catch her before she hit the ground” Feyre gave a huff to her sister’s bored tone.

“But not before all the trees Nesta”

“Details, details”

“Rhys is gonna kill you, we have to move her before he finds out” Feyre got level with your marbling body, sticks and leaves sticking out of your hair from your fall through the canopy above. Nesta folded her arms across her chest in protest as Feyre rolled you onto your back, a deep whimper escaping your throat.

“Well she’s not dead”

“For now” Nesta raised an amused eyebrow before rolling her eyes and squatting to lift your feet as Feyre caught your shoulders with her own disapproving look.

“Her clothes are so odd, is it continent fashion?”

“Hard to say, the material on her legs is so…dense?” Nesta replied, a thumb rolling over the cuff of your jeans, your Doc Marten burying into her sternum.

The two sisters carried your weak body through the hillside towards the cabin they had retreated to for a break from the Illyrians. They reached the humble home after a small uphill climb in the Winter air and gently placed you down on the couch again. The two stood then at the foot of the couch, unsure of what to do next with their new house guest, a thud from outside followed by a swear interrupting their thoughts.

“Shit it's Azriel with the food supplies you forgot”

“You forgot” Feyre returned

“Whatever, here help me cover her” The two sisters sheathed you in a thick woollen blanket as Azriel pushed through the door causing the females to shoot straight up, standing shoulder to shoulder to try to hide you behind them.

“Hey, I dropped a bottle of liquor on the path sor- what are you two doing?” he looked suspiciously at the two, plopping the crate of food down by the mouth of the door.

“Nothing!” their heads snapped to one another at the same time, cursing their simultaneous reply.

“You two have the same look on your face that Cassian had when he was trying to hide the blood ruby he got from Summer Court after his experiment with arson” he gave a laugh that turned nervous when the females didn’t do the same, another almost panicked glance shared between them.

“Well if that’s all Az, thanks for coming” Feyre made a quick movement to Azriel, catching his shoulders and turning him back towards the door, Nesta taking a wide stance to try to obscure more of you.

“Fucking hell” your voice rattled out in pain as you pushed to sit up, the wool sinking down to your lap as your heavy hand found your bleeding head. Azriel’s eyes grew to nearly the width of his skull as he looked frantically between Nesta and Feyre.

“She did it!” they said in unison again, pointing to one another.

“Oh Rhys is going to kill you” he whispered angrily, moving to the couch as Nesta sidestepped, throwing an anxious look at Feyre.

“Whe-re the fuck a-m I? What happ-ened?” your hand traced through your thick hair, branches catching in the locks. You squeezed your eyes together tightly, trying to bring the cozy cabin into focus before swinging your legs to the ground and supporting your weight with one arm. Your movement went entirely still as you looked up to find the three members of the Night Court staring at you with matching bewilderment.

“Am-am I dead?” Your stare landed on Azriel’s wings, conclusions forming quickly.

“No unfortunately not” Feyre elbowed Nesta into the ribs as Azriel analysed your whole figure with his hazel eyes, his shadows swirled around his feet until they wrapped around yours. Your shriek of pure terror caused them to dash back to their master.

“You're okay!” Azriel tried but it was too late, you were in full panic mode, your system shutting down in utter distress until you felt your blood pressure hit the soles of your feet after hitting the ceiling, sending you into a loss of consciousness.

“Nice going you big bat, you killed her” Azriel gave a dirty look towards Nesta, her eyes rolling for the thousandth time that day.

“Send for Madja-”

“-Rhys will kill Nesta for this”

“Well I think her little magic trick will die without her” Feyre folded her arms into her chest, weighing up the options.

“We could give her the tonic that's here, let her heal without everyone gawking at her at home. I’ll go back with Nesta and explain, by the time we’re here again perhaps she’ll be healed and Amren will be home from her travels and can send her back”

“And am I supposed to play healer Feyre?”

“Well you have more experience with healing because of the battlefield than us and besides, Nesta isn’t known for her bedside manner” Azriel sighed before rubbing a hand across his face at Feyre’s logic, she showed him how you got here in his head to help her point.

“Okay fine, go but if she dies, I’m not to blame” They nodded in agreement, taking another look at your floppy body before heading for the door with their things, kicking the box of supplies out of the way.

Azriel lifted your legs slowly back onto the couch before fetching a dish full of mountain water and healing tonic. He hovered the cloth over one of your large gashes that had cut straight through your straight-leg jeans. He looked over your body, unable to hide his curiosity towards the university logo decorating your sweatshirt, the deep purple colouring at the very ends of your hair as well as the multiple pieces of metal piercing through your ear's cartilage. Despite the series of cuts and bruises generously coating you, Azriel believed you might be the most beautiful creature he had ever seen and you were entirely out for the count.

He sighed, dropping the cloth back into the dish and going to make tea with another healing concoction. He rolled his shoulders back and tucked his wings in as tight as possible to minimise their appearance before gently tapping your shoulder to bring you around. When that didn’t work, he fetched one of Cassian’s training boots and ran it beneath your nose, you stirred immediately. You went to shoot up in shock, his strong steady hand, gently pressing you back down.

“You’re okay, you…you just fell but you’re okay.” he said as softly as possible, the ease of his voice unable to settle the rising worry across your face.

“I-I fell?” he gave you a small nod, not entirely a lie he thought to himself.

“Fucking hell my head-” you once again ran your hands down your face, the dry blood slightly flaking in the movement “-do you have any paracetamol or something?”

“Para-what-almol?” Azriel’s eyebrow raised in question before he reached for the tea he made for you from the small table behind him. You removed your hands from your face and looked towards the squatting Illyrian, taking in the beautiful male in front of you, pain being replaced by embarrassment. You pushed up despite his disapproval look, returning to the same position you were in before you fainted.

“Sorry, I should-I should go? Emm…where are we?”

“This is Velaris”

“Velentia?! How did I get here?!” You shot to your feet in surprise, the blood rushing and sending you shakenly back to the soft fabric almost as quickly.

“No, I’m not sure where that is but you’re not there, here take this” he passed the cup with a half laugh and you looked down unconvinced.

“No thanks man, not here to be poisoned” Azriel scoffed in slight offense as he watched you wince to put it back on the small table. You look down at your freshly ripped jeans, your fingers tracing the fresh wounds.

“I’m Azriel” His voice brought your eyes back to him as he passed you the soaked cloth, allowing you to run it over the gashes.

“YN” You gave a small smile back, fighting the singe of the elixir.

“YN? That’s an odd name”

“You say that as if there’s an Azriel at every petrol station in town” You half laugh, more questions entering Azriel’s head than answers. Azriel rose to his feet and headed into the kitchen with the abandoned groceries as you finished with your leg, starting on your forehead.

“No paper here or something?” Azriel looked towards you as you took the cabin in in all its glory, Feyre’s artwork the object of your marvelling.

“They’re Feyre’s, she was here earlier. She went a bit mad up here when she found out Rhysand was her mate”

“Mate? Oh she’s like Australian?”

“What? You speak in riddles” he laughed, joining your side on the couch with his own cup of tea. You looked at it with an air of hunger, not unnoticed by the Spymaster, he looked from the cup to your face.

“You can drink it YN, it’s not poisoned, here look I’ll take a sip” You watched him take a taste before offering it back to you where you took it from him, its fresh floral taste having an almost reviving effect, you drank it almost one gulp.

“Now, I’m afraid you can’t go home just y-”

“Fuck I knew it! What’s in this tea?! I’m being kidnapped!” You shot towards the door, almost knocking the dish of water all over the floor, sending Azriel swearing. You reached your exit and with a wave of his hand, Azriel locked it from the inside.

“YN, no one is going to hurt you, you just, this is going to be hard to explain, one of my…friends brought you here by accident” You still tried to pull on the knob of the door, glancing from it to Azriel as he stood to close the distance.

“Stay back! I know self-defence!” Azriel couldn’t hold his laugh at the small human girl before him threateningly looking at him. He went to catch your arm softly, only for you to send your heavy-booted Doc straight into his instep, followed by the base of your palm up and into his nose, the shock of your sudden movement catching him off guard. He groaned slightly reaching for his nose as it bled, missing your hand reaching for the keys in your pocket and the mace on the keychain. Azriel roared at the feeling of the spray of chemicals burning into his eyes, sending him onto the floor writhing in pain.

“Fuck! Fine! Die in the snow!” He shouted out, waving his hand and releasing the door. You hardly heard him, whipping the door back as the now night air lashed in near-freezing gails of icy snow. You fought the tornado of air as you put the oak door between you and it, sliding down the wood to the ground, your body screaming in pain still from the fall. Azriel sat up, still blinking hard to clear the burning liquid.

“And you thought I’d be the one to use poison” A breathy laugh left him as his red eyes watered and you found yourself matching his smile.

“I promise I won’t kill you, if you don’t kill me” he gave you a genuine look and for some reason you felt such a wave of trust hit you. You agreed, too tired to run from him or face the snow and you rolled your head along the door before looking back at the Illyrian, tracing your eyes along his linen shirt and leather pants

“Are you in a motorbike gang or something?”

“Gods I hope you start making sense soon” he pushed up from the ground, doing his best to not untuck his wings for balance. You looked up at him and reluctantly took the hand he offered, noting the deep scaring covering them like burls on a tree. He followed your eyes to his hands before he gingerly took them back to replace them across his still-stinging eyes. Azriel threw himself back down on the couch and you followed suit.

“I’m sorry about the-” you gestured to your own eyes and he gave a small laugh.

“It’s okay, I’m impressed a human would have such speed, to be honest”

“Human? And what are you a fish?”

“No” he didn’t return your laughing tone, only reaching for your disregarded cloth and placing it over his eyes. Your hand ran down the side of your jeans until you retrieved your phone, the screen fully destroyed from your dance with the trees.

“Great” you sighed, throwing it down on the table, Azriel watching the action.

“Nesta couldn’t save your mirror from the fall?”

“Nesta? Rhysand? Azriel? No one called like Dave around here?”

“Not really the fashion in Prythian” he smiled.

“Prythian? Like from the children's stories?” you chuckled at him.

“No, Prythian like the realm” he tossed the cloth back into the dish, the red in his eyes subsiding.

“My mom used to tell me stories about Prythian and these like great bat boy warriors with these really big-big-win…” you trailed off as you looked to see the shape of Azriel’s wings over his shoulder.

“Really big? Well, thanks for the flattery” He laughed aloud as your face greyed.

“Fuck, it’s happened, studying for my physics final has finally driven me insane, this is all in my head, a stress-induced dream” Azriel reached to your thigh and gave you a gentle pinch following your matter-of-fact speech, causing you to flinch a little.

“Okay so not a dream…”

“Not a dream, my brother’s lovely ma-wife’s sister, pulled you through a sort of rip in the realm and landed you here…not very carefully might I add” He said softly so as to not have you black out again, you nodded very very slowly to his words. You faced away from him, fixing your stare on the smashed phone, you thought of your physics lectures. The theories of tears in the fabric of time being possible, the possibility of alternative realities, the possibility of unexplored realms before settling finally that this wasn’t a possibility, this was a reality.

“So, okay, right-” you bit your lip, working through the thought, Azriel trying to push the shiver down his spine away at that action “-okay cool, right, so I’m gonna need like an excuse note or something for the exam and then, right, cool, Xanax maybe”

“Is Xanax a friend of yours who can help?” Your head shot towards Azriel at his genuine question and you let a roar of laughter leave you.

“Definitely although I don’t think they’re here somehow” you offered with a smirk, Azriel feeling a weird sense of jealousy at not being the object of this smile.

“Well, we’ll make do and try to get you home” You nodded sheepishly to him.

“Do you not want to go home YN? You seemed pretty eager when you tried to break my nose earlier” he smiled and you gently knocked into his shoulder playfully.

“I mean…I’m not in a rush to get back to the test”

“Okay well, it will be a day or two before my friends are back and Rhys has calmed down over Nesta bringing you to greet us so you’ll have time. As for now, care to have something to eat? You can help me make it so we both know neither is trying to poison the other” he gave a light laugh while standing again, and you followed him along to the kitchen.

For the rest of the night, the both of you spent your time cooking, laughing and teaching one another about your worlds. Azriel explained the Courts, his role and his family’s as well as giving a shortened version of their relationships with one another. In return, you told him about your studies, what Instagram was and how democracy works. Azriel wasn’t sure he’d ever felt such strong feelings towards someone he’d just met before and it confused him almost as much as what microwaves were.

“Here you go, a glass of our best liquor, you deserve it” Azriel passed you the tumbler as you sat cross-legged on the couch beneath the woollen blanket you were previously hidden under.

“Oh slay”

“No, I didn’t kill anything to get this for you” You almost choked on the drink with the laugh that left you at his confused words.

“No Azriel it’s like-actually maybe I’ll explain drag culture to you another day” He nodded eagerly at the prospect of learning more, sinking into the couch alongside you with his own drink.

“So have you girlf-mate type person like Feyre and Rhys?”

“No, no girlf-mate type person-” he teased back and you sighed, clipping him with the pillow from under your elbow “-do you?”

“Nope, to be honest, I don’t think I’ll be missed from home, I lost my parents young and never really found my flock at college either” you shrugged.

“How could anyone not miss you YN?”

“You have to say that, you’re my captor”

“Actually Nesta captured you, I’m just minding you-” You returned his smirk “-speaking of which, time for sleep, tomorrow they should be back to figuring getting you home for your exam” you whined like a misbehaving child but you’d been fighting off sleep since dinner so agreed with him.

He lead you to his room in the cabin before offering you one of his clean linen shirts and leaving you to sleep. You practically swam in the fabric, with no wings or Illyrian muscles to fill it out, feeling the same way about the colossal bed that you slipped into. You looked up at the ceiling where Feyre had painted delicate little consolations, the day washing over you, had all your prayers finally been answered? You smiled as you gave into the sleep that hunted you all day.

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“We are sending her back!”

“Amren can’t guarantee she’ll end up in her realm, she’s not going anywhere!” You wiped the sleep from your eyes, Azriel's blunt tone waking you from the best sleep of your life.

“She can’t stay here Az!”

“And what if she ends up somewhere a lot worse, she coul-oh YN you’re awake” You looked from the doorway between the two gorgeous Illyrians.

“This is Rhysand”

“Oh, your majesty I suppose” you did a half bow after stepping closer to the males, a small laugh leaving Rhysand at the action.

“Don’t flatter him YN”

“YN, flatter me if that would make you happy” he grinned, Azriel rolling his eyes.

“You’re exactly as described” You shrugged at him, settling down on the couch between where the lllyrians stood

“I would like to apologies for Nesta’s…interuption to your day to day life and more so for…probably being all Nesta when you woke up” Rhysand offered, Azriel folding his arms tightly across his chest as he inspected you closely, you in his shirt may now be his favourite sight. Rhysand watched the slight change in his brothers demanour at your presence, this increasing his worry.

“Now YN, it’s time we get you back to-”

“-I heard you guys say you can’t say for certain I’ll get home” you cut across Rhysand, his eyes darting back to you, Azriel trying to bury his smirk.

“I’m confident we know how to get you there”

“Okay cool, so Feyre will accompany me”

“What?” Rhysand bit out.

“Well its just if you’re so sure you’ll get me in the right spot, surely you’ll have no issue allowing Feyre to accompany me yanno, since you’re confident” Azriel lost his battle in holding in his smirk.

“She’s got you there Rhys, if one of us wouldn’t do it, why should she?”

“Because she doesn’t belong here” Rhysand chewed out, locking eyes with his brother.

“She is sitting right here and she isn’t going near any wormhole or whatever if you’re not sure I’d get there safe” You forced his attention back to your with your sharp words.

“Who said anything about worms?”

“YN has a habit of speaking in riddles” Azriel sat alongside you, giving you a somewhat proud smile, his arm instinctively resting on the back of the couch behind you.

“YN, I’m sure you’re great but I can almost guarantee that our world is vastly different to yours, it’s a lot to take on for your mortal mind, perhaps we could arrange a home for you in the mortal realm?” you tilted your head side to side weighing up his offer before Azriel replied for you.

“I can teach her our ways, I can school her like you did Feyre” Rhysand sighed out but couldn’t deny the way Azriel looked at you and you at him was deeply familiar to him.

“Fine, a week, you may stay a week and if it doesn’t work out then the mortal realm it is, we’ll set you up with a nice manor and you’ll live very comfortably”

“Like Downton Abbey?” you teased despite your audience.

“I’m not familiar with that region”

“Is that where the drag culture is?”

“Of sorts” you laughed at Azriel and his quizzical words, his hazel eyes so enamoured by the sight, further cementing Rhysand’s suspicions. Rhysand sighed deeply ensuring you agreed to the terms and to be taught by Azriel before he left to continue to reprimand Nesta.

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Over the next week it became abundantly clear that despite being from two different realms, you and Azriel were made for one another. You both had the same humor and intelligence as well as thirst for knowledge. You continued to teach him about your home and he taught you about the new world around you and the more you learned the less you wanted to leave. On your first day in Velaris, you thought your heart may burst with the growing love for the place and even more so for your guide.

“And then Cass completely blew the building up, I thought the vein was going to burst in Rhysand’s head” Azriel tilted his head back and laughed loudly while you both crossed the bridge of the Sidra, your last official day in the Night Court before you had to decide. Somewhere along the way, Azriel and your hands became interlocked and forgot to separate.

“You live such insane lives here”

“And you could too” he stopped you in your tracks, his eyes warming over your body as he looked down on you, the sinking sun reflecting off of the snow.

“Maybe with less arson though” he added with a grin you loved so much.

“Az, I’d love to stay but-”

“-No, just say ‘Az I’d love to stay’ and leave it there” he fought his faltering smile as you looked down at his shoes, both hands held in his now.

“But Az-” you couldn’t find the end of the sentence, the words lost on Azriel’s lips as they met yours with such searing passion. His mouth slotted over yours with such a perfect fit it was like they were always meant to be there. You stood further on your toes to deepen the kiss as his hands traced around the nape of your neck and yours landed around his torse. You separated when the need for air almost matched the need to never let go.

“I-I can’t remember the end of my last thought” you laughed lightly and he grinned. “So you’ll stay?”

“I don’t think I was ever going to be able to walk away from you…well not without mace anyways” you smiled back into another kiss, the second of many many more.

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Let Me Know What You Think Friend!?

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alastor-x-reader-stories · 2 days

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To Rate a Hug part 2 of ?

Tags: Alastor x Reader, Lucifer Morningstar x Reader, humor, antics, shenanigans, Alastor is a petty bitch, Lucifer is a dork, Reader is also a dork

part 1

Alastor’s ear twitched at the sound of someone shouting your name. He glanced over, seeing Lucifer skip up to you like a lovestruck fool.

“Hey, Luci!” You said with a grin, scooping up the fallen angel in a hug. Lucifer’s eyes briefly took on a heart shape as he hugged you back, a light blush on his cheeks.

Alastor turned his attention back to his reading. A low growl permeated from his chest without his permission which agitated him even more. Wasn’t the thing you said at that silly little activity about wanting his attention? Why now has that shifted to Lucifer?

Was it because he gave you what you wanted?

Alastor gritted his teeth, grin straining. This is a ridiculous waste of thought. If this pettiness is simply because he wouldn’t indulge in your strange desires than it wasn’t worth his time-

“Alastor, you okay?”

Your voice snapped him out of his musings. He quickly composed himself and gave you a bright smile.

“Of course, my dear!” He said “Whatever makes you think otherwise?”

“Um. Probably because you’re hunched over in the corner growling.” Lucifer said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Alastor’s eye twitched. Why was this idiot still here?

“Don’t you have something you need to be doing?” He said with mock interest “I imagine the King of Hell has quite a full schedule.”

Lucifer shrugged “Not really. I’m kind of just here to look pretty.”

You snickered at that, covering your mouth with one hand. Lucifer stood up taller, puffing his chest out.

“Yes, well. I do.” He said, slipping away into the shadows.

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Your ears went down, watching Alastor slip away. Did the conversation from the other day bother him that much? If that’s the case you’d need to apologize. And, well, no time like the present.

“I’m going to go talk to him.” You said, shooting Lucifer a smile. The King jumped a bit at your voice, startled out of the glaring contest he was having with where Alastor just was. He frowned at you.

“Um. Maybe you shouldn’t?”

You picked him up and held him out at arm’s length “Listen, I get where you’re coming from, but I think this is partially my fault, so I need to talk to him.”

“How is it your fault he’s an asshole?” Lucifer said, flailing his arms about.

“Well…Maybe my comment in the Truth or Dare thing made him uncomfortable…”

“That’s his problem, then.” He snorted, crossing his arms.

You sighed, gently placing Lucifer back on the ground. You put his hands on both of his shoulder and leaned down to be eye-level. “Again, I appreciate where you’re coming from. But I feel like I should talk to him about this so I’m going to.”

He bit his lip, brows furrowing. “Uh….Okay.” He ran a hand down his face “Just. Just be careful, all right?”

You grinned “Nah, I’mma run with scissors.”

“That’s like, the opposite of careful.” Lucifer pouted. He took a deep breath and gave you a small smile. “See you later.”

You said your farewell and scuttled off. Alastor would likely be in either his room or his radio tower, you figured. Which were both typically off-limits but you’d be sure to get his permission before barging in. You stopped by his tower first and knocked on the door a couple of times. When that got no response at all you scurried over to his room and knocked a couple times.

“Who’s there?”

Oh boy you could not resist. “Owl says!”

“…Owl says who?”

“That they do!” You said, cackling at your own stupid joke. There was another staticy cackle that quickly joined your own. The door opened and Alastor grinned down at you.

“Very silly joke, my dear. What can I help you with?”

You snorted, wiping a hand under your eyes to brush away the tears. “Well, you’re in a better mood.”

“Difficult not to be when someone surprises you with a horrible knock-knock joke.” He said with the slightest shrug of his shoulders.

“Good point.” You said “Hey, can I talk to you?”

“Fascinatingly enough, you already are.” He said, tilting his head.

“Not what I meant-“

“I know, I know. Come on in.” He said, putting a hand between your shoulders and pushing you inside. He kicked the door shut behind him with the heel of his shoe and stood there probably doing something but you weren’t paying attention, staring instead at Alastor’s room.

Half of it was a fancy-looking hunting lodge, while the other half a swamp. Fireflies blinked in and out over the waters and you could hear crickets and frog chattering. It smelled like damp moss and sawdust with just hints of coffee.

“Nice room.” You said dumbly. Alastor chuckled, pushing you over to the soft-looking lounge chairs and sitting you down. He sat across from you, crossing his legs in front of him and folding his hand on his lap.

“Now, what did you need to talk about?”

“Oh! Yeah.” You said and turned your attention away from the giant gator skeleton mounted on the wall. “I wanted to apologize.”

He tilted his head “…For what?”

“Um. I think I made you uncomfortable.” You rubbed the back of your neck “With the ‘who I’d want to hug’ comment? I really should’ve kept that to myself. I mean, I know you like your personal space and don’t really want people thinking of invading it-.” You stopped your rambling and took a steadying breath. “So. Yes. I wanted to apologize.”

Empty static hung in the air. You started rocking in your seat, hunching over yourself. Alastor just stared at you, glowing red eyes a sharp contract to the gentle greens and browns behind him.

“I suppose I didn’t expect you to give up quite that easily.” He said, grin unmoving. He tilted his head to the opposite side, eyes squinting ever-so-slightly “If that’s something you wanted so badly, after all…”

You blinked. “Um.” Then realization hit you with a brick “…Did you want me to try hugging you?”

The audible record scratch gave you an answer. Alastor straightened up, clasped hands tightening into a white-knuckled grip.

What he wanted was your attention back on him, and not that fool of a king. What he wanted was you to pursue him and not Lucifer.

“Perhaps.” Alastor said.

You sighed. “Then you should’ve said so, Alastor. I’m not a mind reader. What I got from our talk after that was you thought I wanted something from you and that made you uncomfortable.”

Alastor’s ear twitched. “…So you’re diverting your attention to Lucifer because….?”

You shrugged “Dude’s touch-starved. You give him a hug and he turns into the happiest person in Hell.”

You jumped when Alastor had appeared right in front you. His grin was wide. “So it’s pity that has your attention on him?”

“Uh. No.” You muttered, pushing him away “Really it’s just… Well he gives pretty good hugs. Once I realized I can pick him up to the hug was pretty much perfect.”

“Oh I’m sure I can be much better.” Alastor said with a huff, waving you off. “You wouldn’t have to break your spine or pick someone up for a embrace of much higher quality.”

You rose your eyebrow, ears flicking. “Okay. Before I continue. Our conversation has lead be to believe you want me to try and hug you. Is this correct?”

“I’m sure you can figure it out.”

“Not really, saying giving mixed signals and being cryptic are your favorite past times.” You said with a roll of your eyes.

Alastor’s grin stiffened. His ears pinned back as he suddenly found the swamp more interesting. He snapped his fingers and a piece of paper appeared over your face. You jumped, startled, then took the paper and read it.

Yes pursue the hug thing and tell NO ONE.

You snorted, biting your lip not to laugh. But then you laughed anyway.

“Oooooh buddy you have no idea what kind of game you’re playing now.” You said with a sinister grin. “I’mma hug you.”

“I’m sure your attempts will be amusing.” He said casually, checking his claws.

“I warn you, I have many sinister plans at my disposal.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“Starting my first plan. A-hem. Can I hug you?”

“Mmm….Nope!”

Well that didn’t work.

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #humor #communication for the win

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yoru-no-seiiki · 16 hours

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tagging @onyanjune and @h0ly-l3mb for giving me the idea/motivation to do this lol

link to original post here

tw/cw: MDNI or you WILL be blocked, DDDNE, (skip for spoilers) yandere! reader, mentioned non/dub con, mentioned filming of said non/dubcon.

yan! cool kid has two siblings, your upperclassman and underclassman respectively. and it hella irritates him how close you are to the two.

ofc yan! reader’s intentions have and will always be depraved yearning. they only befriended the pair for the sake of “getting close to the in-laws.” after all you wouldn’t be a good future spouse if you weren’t somewhat involved in the family side of things.

but your tunnel vision sort of . . . backfired.

“quite a bunch of lunches you’re packing.” he mumbled, raising his head from his arms after a thorough nap through class. he had already studied everything that subject had to offer and thoroughly memorized it thanks to his notes that were covered in photos of you.

“oh these? these aren’t just for me, silly.” you answered. he already knew what you were planning, and you already knew that he knew, but keeping this façade of normalcy was a game you two liked to play, “you haven’t been bringing food to school recently i’ve noticed. so i made some more to share.”

“just one?”

you blinked at him, confused. laughing after you realize where his eyes were focused on. you explain that the rest will be going to his siblings, since you thought it may be a household / financial problem.

soon after that you took off, trying your best to hide the giddy feeling in your body threatening to spill unto your facial expressions.

yan! cool kid stares at his brand new lunch and wonders if you also cut out heart shaped potato for their curries, planning out ways to torture yan! loser later

yan! loser who’s yan! cool kid’s younger brother. they look so different, their demeanors even further apart. the only way you knew they were related was cause you stalked the latter on his way back home and almost killed the former before you found out.

you dropped by his class with a smile. his classmates staring at you with wide eyes as those in higher levels rarely ever go to this section of school.

“i hope you don’t mind, but i made lunch for you. is that okay?”

“is ThaT okAy?” he parroted back at you, his voice cracking, nerves on edge at all the people staring at the situation. he was going to eat lunch alone in the bathroom again like always but was occupied with erasing the marks left by his bullies on the table.

you laugh at his response, and set the lunch you prepared on his table.

you stare blankly at the brutal remarks written across. silently you walked outside before coming back with a spare table. you frown as the food you left remained untouched.

“you should eat first. lunch won’t last forever.”

you pat the poor boy’s back and left.

one last delivery til you were done.

you breathed in, knocking the door to the student council’s room. “mr. president, it’s me.”

“come in.”

yan! school president doesn’t even raise his head to look at you. his focus remaining on the papers in his hand and table. “leave the lunchbox there.” the bespectacled man points to your table in the room.

you set it down obediently and walked out. at least, you tried to until he stops you. “before you go, tell me why i shouldn’t report your actions to the faculty.”

you don’t turn around from the door, but still you answer, “hm, actions?”

“you, using school funds to pay for my youngest brother’s harassment.”

“…mmm…” you turned around, placing a hand on your chin in feigned deep thought “because . . . you love love love me?”

yan! president sighed. you hear paper shredding.

“you may go.”

you giggled. stepping outside of the stuffy room to go finally see your beloved again in class.

you put a hand in your pocket and fished out your phone. briefly smiling at the home screen wallpaper of yan! cool kid and quickly tapping out the password.

you then delete the video of yan! president tying you up as his unclothed hips slammed into yours. your skin covered in bites and slap marks all over. your eyes converging fear as tears fell and your mouth was gagged and unable to voice the feeling. the once prim and proper man man groaning in ecstasy and yelling words of degradation as he defiled you.

but you could only cringed at the words “i love you.” escaping his lips.

“a little reward for mercy i suppose.”

you stuff your phone back into your pocket. wondering if you should also warn him about the laxatives.

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save-the-villainous-cat · 2 days

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I was rereading the hero x vampire heat season snippet you wrote and was wondering if you could do a similar one? Like a hero that is very shy and embarrassed about being attracted to villain, and maybe even really likes the villain's voice, and the villain teases and/or reassures them it's totally normal/okay?

No pressure at all, and regardless of whether you answer i hope you'll have a wonderful day! <3

“Did you know—” the villain’s lips were dangerously close to the hero’s burning ear “—I find your fangs adorable?”

The hero hadn’t expected a kidnapping to turn into this, to turn into a romantic conversation by the fireplace. It was cruel how sweet the villain could be. The hero had been nervous enough already when the villain had asked them kindly to get into the car.

Kindly with a gun pointing at them.

The hero had been shot before and they knew from experience that it wasn’t a particularly nice experience.

“Those fangs could rip out your throat,” the hero said. Slowly, the villain drew shapes with their index finger into the hero’s thigh. That was cruel, too. The villain knew they were sensitive, especially today.

“Wouldn’t that be wonderful?” the villain asked. “That way this spluttery mouth could finally shut up and find some peace…my colleagues hate how much I talk about you.”

“You’re mean,” the hero said. They could feel themselves slipping back into their desires. There was a line, a very fine line between control and instincts and somehow the villain managed to dance on that line with the hero perfectly.

That had its own perks. Sometimes, the hero welcomed the challenge. But not really today in particular. Some days were more manageable whereas on others the hero felt like a wild animal.

“You asked me to do this, don’t you remember?”

“I asked you to make sure I wouldn’t kill any people,” the hero said. “And that I wouldn’t go crazy.”

“And I’m doing that. This is called damage control, darling.” The villain leaned over and the hero could feel their soft breath on the hero’s neck. “I hope you like it.”

“Curse you,” the hero whispered. Instinctively, they cupped the villain’s jaw and pulled them close enough for their cheeks to touch. “You know what this does to me.”

“Poor hero,” they mused. The villain’s hand travelled down to the hero’s knee. “Tell me, dear. Is my heart beating fast?”

They took the hero’s hand and pressed it against their own chest.

It nearly broke the hero. Desiring someone was one thing. Being subdued to their own nature was humbling and embarrassing. It was something that plagued them regularly.

But being desired? Someone feeling the same things they did? Someone who was willing to treat them this well…?

The hero swallowed.

A while ago, some people they had trusted had treated them like an animal. They’d been imprisoned for being a vampire. Those people had promised them to keep others safe from them but it had been raw torture. And now, the villain let them walk around freely. They gave them delicious food and tasty drinks.

They spoiled them.

“Can you feel it? Can you tell how fast my heart is beating?” the villain asked. Their voice was deeper now, more alluring.

“You…”

“You want to bite, don’t you? Sink your teeth into my neck and suck…”

“I shouldn’t—”

“Why not?” the villain asked. Gently, they grabbed the hero’s hips and pulled them towards them until the hero was sitting on the villain’s lap. In response, the hero gasped softly and held onto the villain’s clothing. “Hm?”

“…I shouldn’t even like you in the first place. We are enemies.”

“And yet, you asked me to take care of you.”

“…maybe.” The hero closed their eyes. The villain’s heart was beating fast but it wasn’t only desire. They were nervous.

The hero wasn’t sure if the villain was nervous because of them or something else.

“I trust you,” the hero said. “I believe that you will make the right choices when it comes to me. I can’t explain it but…you can deal with me. You can handle me. You know what I need. And that is kind of scary.”

Despite the hero’s endless advances towards the villain, they had never forced the hero to do anything. They always let the hero make the first move.

“It’s perfectly normal to be attracted to me when you’re…in this state,” the villain said. “I will not—”

“That’s the problem. It doesn’t stop once this phase is over. It never really stops.” The hero’s ears were burning and they could feel the villain’s heartbeat increase quickly.

“We should get some band aids for my neck then,” the villain said.

The hero couldn’t tell who was more excited.

#you guys really liked that one huh #didn’t know if you wanted vamp but I wanted vamp #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #suggestive #vampire hero #hero vampire #human x vampire #vampirexhuman

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laligraves · 1 day

Text

three a.m.

TLOU AU - priest!joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~2.4k summary: You seek guidance from Father Miller after you find your fiancé cheating. masterlist | AO3

warnings: NSFW, joel can speak spanish, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading, reader can sit on Joel's lap (he's a big, strong man), no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, fingering, oral (f! receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, creampie, slight power imbalance (joel is a priest), all consensual

a/n: my first joel miller fic 🤠🫣

The incessant knocking wakes him up from his sleep. Joel swipes at his eyes, turning his head to peer at the digital clock on his nightstand.

“Three in the mornin’?” he groans. “¿Quién será?” [who could it be?]

He throws off the blanket and stands from the bed, walking through the hallway towards the side door. The rain hits the windows hard, echoing throughout the empty church.

Joel takes a look through the peephole and swallows hard once he sees who stands on the other side. He watches as you lift your hand and knock on the door again. You’re shivering, only wearing a short dress that's soaked in rain water.

“Sweetheart, what’re you doin’ out here at this time of night?” he asks in shock once he swings open the door.

Joel catches you before you can fall as you stumble inside, wrapping his arms around you at the sound of your cries.

“Father Miller, I just–I didn’t know where to go or what to do,” you stammer, “Nicolas cheated again! He said–he said I was failing him as a woman.”

Joel can barely understand the last sentence. Your voice cracks, fat tears rolling down your face and mixing with the rain drops. Joel gently shushes you and brings you to his bedroom.

He knows he shouldn’t. It crosses a boundary that can get him excommunicated from the church if anyone were to find out. But it’s the only room with a functioning heater and towels to get you warm.

His heart hammers against his chest and his hands shake slightly as he sits you down on the couch. He’s angry, feeling a surge of violence that he hasn’t felt in years.

That idiot fiance of yours has been more trouble than he’s worth. Having you move across the country, away from all your friends and family, and keeping you isolated in this tiny town.

You’ve tried to build a community here. Every Sunday you sit in the second pew towards the far left and attend every bible session to bake sale the church has to offer.

Nicolas is more interested in sleeping with half the town while his beautiful fiance tries to build a home and a future.

It’s not Joel’s place to tell you to leave him. If anything, he should be offering his services to make you a better, more understanding future wife. At least that’s what the church would want. The very idea makes his stomach churn.

He gave an oath to the priesthood. This would be his life until his last breath. But the moment he laid eyes on you, Joel wondered if God had sent him a test.

“What am I supposed to do?” your small voice breaks through his thoughts. “I left everything for him. I’m making this place my home–our home. And he’s more interested in chasing girls than building a life with me.”

Joel sits next to you, bringing up a towel to wipe at your wet face. The scent of fresh rain and your perfume makes him dizzy.

“Do you remember the first time you told me about the problems you two were havin’?”

You give a jerky nod. “Five months ago, Father.”

“Five months ago,” Joel repeats. “Your wedding is 3 months away, mi niña. Do you think he has any plans on changing?” [my girl]

Tears well up in your eyes. It hurts Joel to hurt you like this. Fuck this place, fuck this oath, he thinks. Joel will not allow this man to ruin your life. Even if it means you return back home and he loses your presence in this church forever.

“N–no, I don’t think he’s going to change,” you whisper.

“I think it's time for you to take a good look at what the future might bring. Do you want to raise a family with this man? Do you want this man as the father of your children?”

Joel wraps his arms around your trembling frame as you begin to cry again. Your body shakes from the sobs and your tears wet his sleep shirt. His hands glide up and down your shoulders, warming your body.

He’s not sure how much time passes, but eventually your tears cease. You pull back slightly and look up at him. He takes a quick glance at your glassy eyes and down to your puffy lips.

“I haven’t been completely honest,” you whisper. “There–there’s another reason why Nicolas is angry all the time.”

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

“He thinks… he thinks I spend too much time with you–with the church,” you stammer. “He’s got this idea that I–that I have some sort of… infatuation with you.”

“It’s normal for men to feel jealousy. That’s why we must work to–”

“He’s not wrong.”

You interrupt Joel, taking the opportunity to glance at his lips. Joel realizes just how close you two are on the couch. You’re at his side, his arms still wrapped around you and your faces only inches away from one another.

“Mi…” Joel whispers, “mi niña, you’re confused. You’re hurt. You don’t know what you’re saying–”

You're quick to stand from the couch and throw off the towel. Joel thinks you’re going to agree, that you’re going to grab your things and walk out from his bedroom before he decides to do something stupid.

But you simply kick off your shoes and straddle his lap. Your tiny dress rides up the moment you sit down. His body jolts from the shock but you’re quick at grabbing his hands to place them on your thighs.

“I made up my mind, Father,” you murmur, “I’m breaking up with Nicolas. And I’m moving back home.”

His heart pinches at your words. You’re leaving.

“I think that’s a good idea–”

You slide your hips forward, placing your pussy right over his cock. Joel chokes on the rest of his words, suddenly aware of the clothes he’s wearing. Only his pajama pants and your panties stand in the way.

Joel tries to say your name in a stern tone, but you bring your face closer to his and he forgets why he wanted to push you away in the first place. Your lips touch his in a soft kiss.

He’s gentle at first, cradling your head to keep you in place while he presses his lips on yours. Joel licks at your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue then plunges it inside your mouth the moment you gasp.

He licks at you, grasping your chin as he tastes you, bites your bottom lip, gives you his tongue to suck on. Your cunt grinds down on his cock in desperate circles and your fingers tug at his hair.

His cock swells in his pants but he does his best to control himself. Joel can’t remember the last time he came, probably right before he joined the priesthood many years ago.

Joel yanks down the straps of your dress and latches onto your nipple the moment your tits are bare. Your chest is still slightly cold from the rain but he uses his mouth to warm you up.

You throw your head back and whimper as he bites and sucks at your tits. He’s ravenous, wishing he could eat you alive from how soft and plump you are in his mouth.

Joel keeps one hand on your hips to keep you steady in his lap but uses the other to slide into your panties. He’s not sure who moans first. You, at the feel of his fingers swiping through the heat of your cunt, or him at how slick you are.

“Oh God,” you whimper.

He lands a quick slap to your ass with his other hand.

“No blasfemes, niña,” he growls. [Don’t blaspheme, girl]

“I’m so–sorry,” you whimper, grinding down on his hand that continues to tease your slit.

“Stand up,” he orders.

You quickly follow his command, shivering slightly from the excitement.

“I want you,” he whispers, “since the first– fuck, I–I won’t do anything more unless you say you want this.”

“I do, Father–”

“Joel, just Joel,” he corrects you, wanting to hear you say his name.

“I want this, Joel,” you whisper. “Whatever you give me.”

He tries not to show any reaction to how you whisper his name, choosing instead to watch as you strip. He drinks in the sight of your naked body. You're beautiful, way too perfect for any man.

“Hermosa,” he murmurs, gliding his hand from over your breasts to your tummy. “Get on the bed, I want a taste of that pretty pussy.”

You follow his orders and wait, ass up face down on the bed. He yanks off his pajamas and before he can get on his knees to worship your cunt, Joel glances at the bible on his nightstand.

Perdóname, Señor. I can’t–I won’t stop this, he prays silently. Have I not given my entire life to this church? Do I not deserve this? [Forgive me, Lord]

Your cunt glistens in the dim light. Your slick trails down your thighs, making a sticky mess. Joel’s mouth waters at the sight and before he knows it, he’s licking through your folds.

“Aren’t you a pretty thing,” Joel murmurs as he runs a finger up your thigh. “Wet little cunt just f’me, ain’t it?”

“Just for you, Joel,” you whimper, voice muffled by the blanket.

He buries his mouth into your pussy. Joel drinks, licks and consumes the essence that drips from you. It’s everything he imagined and more.

In his years of devotion, he’s never come close to breaking. There’s been countless women–single, married, widowed–who throw themselves at him.

But he’s never been interested. He’s been loyal to the cause and to his word. You’re someone he wasn’t expecting. A temptation wrapped in silk dresses and pretty smiles.

Joel doesn’t know what this means, what will happen now that he’s broken his oath. He can’t find it in him to care that much. Not when you're screaming his name as he sucks your clit and pushes his finger into your tight cunt.

Your slick covers his face, practically drowning him from how much he devours you. Joel brings a hand down to squeeze at his erection, trying his best to calm the blood coursing hot through his body.

“Joel, please,” you cry into the blankets, “I’m so close!”

He writes his name with the tip of his tongue on your clit, over and over again. He slips a second finger in your cunt and slowly fucks them inside of you.

You stiffen, then scream out his name as you cum. A rush of sweet wetness gushes from your pussy and covers his face. Joel attacks, drinking and tasting every drop that he can get.

Your hips grind in small circles on his face until you drop down in a tired heap. Joel doesn’t let you go, following your cunt with his mouth and licking up the slick from between your thighs. It's not until you give him a slight nudge to his head that he stops.

“Joel," you whimper, almost out of breath, "fuck me, please?”

How can he say no when you ask so nicely? He stands on shaky legs and tugs at his cock as you flip over onto your back.

“Need me to fuck you, niña? Need me to fill up that tiny hole?”

“Please, please, please,” you chant.

Joel brings your knee up to your chest and positions that angry, red tip of his cock at your entrance. He swipes it through your folds a few times, gathering up the slick and teasing your hole.

Just when he knows you’re about to pout for more, he plunges in. You gasp, your hands immediately gripping the blankets and your mouth dropping open. Joel stays still, consumed by the tight heat that grips him.

This is probably the closest thing there is to heaven on earth, he thinks.

“F–fuck, Joel,” you whine, “you’re–you're stretching me.”

He leans over, pressing soft kisses on your nose and cheeks while you adjust to his size. With enough strength back in his body, Joel slowly pulls out. When he’s halfway, he thrusts right back in.

“So perfect,” Joel groans as he picks up the pace, “such a sweet little cunt.”

He reaches somewhere deep inside of you that has you shaking and whimpering in his hold. You can barely form a sentence, only chanting more and please. He fucks you into the mattress, using you thigh as leverage while he pistons in and out of your cunt.

You grind down, matching his thrusts and using your inner muscles to grip him tight. Your cockdrunk face and the mess between your thighs makes it difficult for him to focus.

“¿Te gusta, mi niña?” Joel groans, “Should I finish inside of you? Make you mine?” [you like that, my girl?]

“Yes, yes–oh God, please,” you cry, “please cum inside of me!”

Joel moves faster, clumsy and harsh in how he fucks you. He folds you practically in half as he meets your mouth in a rough kiss. You're cumming again, tugging at his hair until it stings while your pussy squeezes his length in a bruising grip.

His orgasm catches him by surprise. White heat licks at his spine until it spreads like wildfire through each cell in his body. Joel drops his head into the crook of your neck and repeats your name over and over again.

He spills deep inside of you, marking every inch of your cunt in his seed. Years of celibacy make this moment so intense that he has no choice but to fill you up with every drop.

He drops in a sweaty heap right next to you. No words are spoken for the next few moments, only the sound of your breathing and the pitter patter of rain on the glass windows echoes through the room.

“I guess I should get going–”

“No,” he interrupts in a rush, “stay. For the night. I’ll take you home in the morning.”

“What if someone sees?”

“They won’t,” Joel says, knowing full well there’s a church meeting in just a few hours. “I’ll make sure they don’t.”

“Okay. I'll stay,” you whisper, already falling asleep.

He's careful in how he cleans you, not wanting to move you around too much and wake you. He throws the washcloth in the hamper and stretches out next to you. Joel doesn't fall asleep, more content in watching you in his bed.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 days

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AITA for asking my roommates to clean the bathroom in a specific way, or pay me to do so for them?

I (21F) live in student housing with 3 roommates, all 20-21F. We started living together in August and will continue living together until we all graduate a year from now. Our apartment has four bedrooms but we all share one bathroom.

When we first started living together we came to some agreement on cleaning things, like that dishes are the responsibility of whoever dirtied them, rotating trash duties, and importantly for this post we decided that we would alternate who cleaned the bathroom each week and posted a calendar that says who’s week it is with a place to leave a check mark when it’s complete.

This ostensibly works fine, as people are roughly on time with their cleaning and check off their name as they are supposed to. However. Each of our ideas of cleaning the bathroom are vastly different. For example when I clean the bathroom I scrub the toilet bowl, wipe down the toilet seat top, lift up the seat and wipe down under there, wipe the flusher and the back of the toilet because it gets dusty and gross, wipe down door handle as you have to touch it with dirty hands to get out of the WC to the sink, wipe down the countertop and and the sink, spray and then rinse the shower with cleaner, take hair out of the shower drain (bc they refuse to use a drain cover), vacuum up the insane amounts of hair that end up on our floor, and then mop the floor as well as take out the bathroom trash.

my roommates will maybe clean the inside of the toilet bowl and spray/scrub the shower before checking their names off the list. It drives me insane bc it means that I have to clean everyone else’s weeks of grime off the floor and toilet seat, and pull so much hair out of our shower. There have been weeks where I’m not convinced any cleaning happened at all, and I think people just checked their names off without doing anything. I’ve discussed this with my roommates both individually and as a group in the past but they say that they are cleaning the bathroom so there shouldn’t be an issue

This is where I may be the asshole: enter The Cleaning List. Basically I made a list of requirements for the bathroom cleaning. It’s formatted with headings of areas to be cleaned and bullet points underneath of specifics. (For example one heading is “TOILET” with the bullet points “-clean top of and underneath toilet, -seat scrub toilet bowl, -wipe flusher.”) I then took a picture of this list and texted the group saying that I would like to implement these as the new cleaning requirements and post the list next to our calendar of who’s turn it is to clean. I also told them that if they couldn’t commit to the time/effort that these new rules would add, they could pay me 30 dollars on their weeks to do it for them.

My roommates did not appreciate my idea for The Cleaning List nor the idea of paying me to clean on their week. They called me a controlling and said I wasn’t appreciating the work they do to clean the bathroom already, and just because I have ridiculous standards doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have to pay me. They said the current system works fine so we should just keep doing what we’re doing.

I don’t think I’m the asshole because I’m doing more work than everyone else to maintain the cleanliness of our shared space and I think we should either split the work fairly or that I should at least be compensate for making up for everyone else’s refusal to clean the bathroom in a way that’s productive. But I could be the asshole because I did ask them to put in more work to meet my own standards, or ask them to pay me to do it for them if they can’t even though their standards aren’t the same.

So, AITA?

Extra info: 1. it’s worth saying I have contamination OCD and cleaning other peoples grossness gives me intense anxiety but the anxiety is far worse when I have to interact with the grossness on a daily basis with no recourse. Some of my roommates are aware of this some are not. 2. When I claim I don’t think the bathroom is being cleaned properly, it’s not because the bathroom isn’t sparkling and spotless. It’s because there’s consistently pee stains on toilet seats, shit streaks in the toilet, a visible layer of hair strands on the floor, and enough hair in the shower that if I don’t clean it the whole thing clogs.

#aita #am i the asshole #unsanitary cw

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foxaftershocks · 21 hours

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Hello I love your writing and I fell in love with Lars (First Egon and Ray what can I say I love men with nerdy glasses and are smart)

I was thinking that the reader could be friends with a ghost that they captured. After everyone leave she talks to her about Lars. She talks to her how Lars and her are close friends but sometimes it is so hard to tell if he likes her too. The ghost comes up with the idea to process the reader and every night she will tell the reader what happens in the daytime. Like the ghost makes the reader flirtier and touchier but also tries to make Lars jealous. Which confuses but also flusters Lars because he does like this type of attention the reader is all of a sudden giving him. Finally the ghost does something that the reader would never do and Lars figured out she is processed but just waits until the reader actually gets the courage to make a move on him. He obviously is his sarcastic self but softens and can actually reciprocate his feelings for her.

I hope this made sense. I like the idea of a ghost wingman but Lars is too smart to not figure it out. Man would probably figure it out in like 2-3 days haha.

This made total sense. I actually had a lot of fun writing this one. I hope you enjoy it!

“I dunno, maybe I’m just making it all up in my head.”

You were sitting on the ground in front of the enclosure, finger drawing meaningless patterns on the floor in front of you. You couldn’t even look at your friend in the face, scared to admit it. Having the glass between you softened it a bit, the embarrassment contained if it’s behind some kind of barrier.

“I don’t think so. I think he just needs a push,” Jessie said from behind the glass.

You probably shouldn’t be confiding in one of the ghosts the lab had under observation. No doubt Lars would tell you off if he knew. Not that you ever would. Especially given what you were talking about.

“Yeah well, I’m not about to do that. What if he laughs in my face?” you said, “he won’t even be my friend anymore.”

“Or maybe he’ll grab you and kiss you,” she suggested.

“I can’t risk it,” you said, finally looking up to her.

A smile began to stretch over her face, pretty, like the kind of woman who would never be in this kind of relationship. You bet that if Jessie had a crush on one of her friends she would go after him. She had that kind of confidence. You weren’t sure any guy had ever not been interested in her.

“I have an idea,” she said.

“Should I be worried?” you asked, feeling dread already curdling in your stomach.

“No, no, it’s really good,” she said, “how about during the day I’m in control of you and then at night I can tell you everything that happened? If he doesn’t already, he’ll definitely like you by the time I’m done.”

“No, he’ll like you. This is such a bad idea,” you said.

“It’s a great idea,” she said, “give it a shot. If it doesn’t work then we can stop.”

“I don’t know,” you said, not wanting to admit just how desperate you were.

“One day. If you hate it we don’t have to do it again,” she said.

You thought it over. Lars would probably kill you if he ever found out. Winston might even fire you if it was revealed. It was a bad idea. It was such a bad idea.

“Okay,” you whispered.

👻👻👻👻👻

Lars was humming under his breath as he walked towards your bench. You were sitting there, spinning in your chair as you looked up at the ceiling. There was a smile on your face, a giggle falling from your lips like a child. He paused a moment, watching you. Something was different. You looked lighter, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened overnight.

“You look happy,” he said, dropping the notebook that was in his hands in front of you.

You looked up at him, your wide smile turning into a smirk, almost predatory. He felt warmth full his body as your eyes swept up and down his body, lingering in places he knew weren’t appropriate to look at in the workplace. And yet he liked it. He liked it a lot.

“Well hello, handsome,” you practically purred.

He’d never heard you speak like that. He looked down at you, curious, one eyebrow asking in a silent question. You lent towards him, fingers grazing over the cuff of his shirt, fluttering your eyelashes.

“You’re in a mood today,” he said.

“A good one after seeing your face,” you replied.

“Alright, well, I’ve got the observations from last night in there so give it a read and stick it in the datafile,” he said, nodding down at the notebook.

“Is that the only thing something is getting stuck in?” you asked.

“What?”

He had no idea what was going on.

“No other data?” you asked, “why? What did you think I meant?”

He blinked, then settled into a smile. It must have been in his head, the way you’d given him a heated look as you asked, the innuendo in your words heavy on your tongue. He shook his head.

“Nothing, nothing,” he said.

He left you there, acutely aware you were watching him as he walked away. Something was different, something in the air making it heavier, making it thicker. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing the way you were looking at him. His cheeks heated and he wished he knew what was going on in your head. It had never been like this before.

When you sat down at your usual table for lunch with him, your foot grazed over his calf. He could shrug it off as an accident in settling in your chair. When it happened again it was harder to brush off. A third time and he knew you had to be doing it on purpose. You didn’t mention it, but for a moment your eyes met his over your sandwich and he felt a jolt of electricity.

“Have you got something more entertaining for me to do with the rest of my day?” you asked.

“You could help me with Pukey,” he said.

“The six words every girl wants to hear,” you said, offering him a little smile, “but I suppose with you it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“You’ll want to wear your coveralls,” he said.

“Why?” you asked.

“Well, he’s not called Pukey for nothing,” he replied, as droll as ever.

“Aw you do care,” you said, fluttering your eyelashes again, “is it because I look so cute in this outfit?”

You lent back in your chair, spine lengthening, showing off your body. His eyes swept down and he had to admit, the confidence looked good on you. Not that you didn’t usually look good. He’d always thought you were beautiful, even when you weren’t being so outwardly confident.

Sometimes he thought you were at your most beautiful late at night, hair tied up in a ponytail half falling out, tired as you rested your head against his shoulder. Maybe he just like how soft you were, half asleep, talking about science in a low voice with him, curled up in a chair or resting against him. Those were the moments he treasured the most, when the lines blurred and everything felt more real.

“I’m just trying to save you from being uncomfortably wet and sticky for the rest of the day,” he eventually said.

“Well now, that might be fun.” You looked at him from under your eyelashes and he felt the flush travel up his neck at thought of you being wet and sticky, “we could find out together.”

“I’ve been on the receiving end of Pukey’s interest. Trust me when I say you don’t want to be,” he managed to get out.

“Perhaps we’ll save that for after work then.”

The wink you shot him made him feel flustered. He shoved back from the table, not quite sure what to make of the entire thing. He was used to the butterflies and the way you made his head spin, but this was something else entirely. It was usually so soft with you, so easy. Now it felt like things were about to get hard.

Clearly the euphemism problem was catching.

You spent the afternoon brushing your fingers over him, hands grasping at him every chance you could get, body brushing against his. It was infuriating and compelling and frustrating in equal measure. Every brush of skin, every warm touch, every small smile was driving him insane.

Until he was so distracted he found himself covered in the ectoplasm shooting out of Pukey’s mouth. He went home for the day after that.

👻👻👻👻👻

“He was definitely blushing.”

You groaned, head thunking against the glass of the enclosure. Jessie was sitting close enough she could reach out and touch it, palm pressed together.

“What?” she asked, “I thought you’d be more excited about this. He’s totally into you.”

“Or maybe he’s just a bit uncomfortable when I touch him and flirt with him,” you said.

“What are you talking about? He was so into it.”

“It’s inconclusive evidence,” you said.

“So we try again tomorrow,” she said, “seriously, give me another day and he’ll be confessing his undying love to you. Or trying to hook up with you. Either way, there’s your answer.”

There was a thought you hadn’t had before.

“Promise me that if he tries you won’t do that with him. Not even a kiss,” you said, pushing up onto your knees, frantic now, hands pressing to the glass.

“Aw, but I get it. He’s cute when he’s all flustered. I bet he’d be fun,” she said.

“I don’t want my first kiss with him to not be me,” you said, “please Jessie.”

“Fine. But when you do kiss him I want to hear all about it. I bet he’s good at it. Tender. Probably give his all to it. Enthusiastic but in a way that makes you feel special rather than like an object. You know?” she said.

“I’ll tell you all about it if you stop talking about him like that,” you said.

“Deal.”

👻👻👻👻👻

“Hey there, hot stuff.”

Lars jumped, not having heard you sneak up on him. Your warm breath brushed his ear, lips practically ghosting against the skin. He turned, too abruptly, almost falling off his stool. You smiled, a small giggle passing over your lips. Your eyes were sparkling with mirth and he found himself wondering why he’d never heard such a thing come from you before.

“What’s got you looking so deep in thought?” you asked, pushing up to sit on the bench beside his computer.

His hand, resting on the keyboard, was close enough to brush your thigh. You kicked your feet, looking down at him, popping a previously unseen lollipop in your mouth. He felt himself shiver when your cheeks hollowed as you sucked on the flavoured sugar.

“Just… looking over some of the readings from last night,” he said.

You nodded, leaning towards him. Your foot gently rested on the side of his stool, brushing his leg as you steadied yourself. Your pink tongue dragged over the red lollipop, staining it an enticing colour. He found himself leaning towards you in turn, focused on your mouth, watching the way you worked the lollipop.

“See anything interesting?” you asked, red stained lips forming the words so beautifully.

He certainly did.

“What?” he asked.

“In the readings from last night,” you replied, leaning back, shoving the lollipop into your cheek until it bulged.

“Oh, right.” He blinked, “some, although I’m unsure what caused them. I’ll run some tests later.”

“Need help?” you asked.

“Don’t you have your own work to be getting on with?” he asked.

“You don’t want me around?” You pulled the lollipop from your mouth to pout at him. The effect was… interesting. Very interesting. He wanted to see if it happened every time you did that.

You broke out in another giggle, shoving at his shoulder before you hopped down from his bench. Your fingers trailed over his shoulders as you rounded him, leaning forward again to whisper in his ear.

“Come find me if you want to have some fun.”

He turned to watch you ver his shoulder. He wasn’t sure if you were aware of his gaze but your hips were swaying in a way that made his mouth dry and his heart beat faster. He had to get a hold on himself. I mean, it was you. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with his feelings. It’s not as if you felt the same way.

Except you kept flirting with him.

He shook his head, certain he was misreading you. He’d done it before, early on in your friendship, and while his crush had never faded, he’d grown to accept that you’d never feel about him the way he felt about you. So he got stuck into his work, trying to ignore the way your lips had perfectly wrapped around that spun sugar, tongue flicking over it, cheeks hollowing with every suck.

Yeah, he was going to need a cold shower when he got home.

When he looked up a few hours later, he immediately found you across the lab, with Hank, the parabotanist. It was like the world turned to slow motion as you laughed, your hand coming up to rest on his bicep. You lent into him, just like you’d lent into him just yesterday and he felt his jaw clench.

Your eyes flicked up, finding him and you offered him a sweet smile and a small wink. It was like something hot came over him followed very quickly by cold. He kept watching as you lent closer to Hank, whispering something in his ear, laughing when he said something, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you looked up at him from under your eyelashes. His lips pressed together and his fist clenched so tightly his pencil snapped.

“Something on your mind, Lars?”

He jumped, Lucky having snuck up on him. He shook his head.

“No, no, no. Everything is fine,” he said, looking back to his work.

“That pencil might disagree,” she said.

“Ha ha,” he replied, the sarcasm dripping form his words, “do you need something?”

“Well I was going to ask for a pencil but…” She looked down at the pieces left on the notebook he’d been using.

“Moving on,” he said.

“They look close,” she said, pointing her chin towards you and Hank.

“They do,” he said, pursing his lips, refusing to look.

“Much to think about,” she said before twirling away, going back to the testing zone and out of his reach.

He looked back to you, only to find your fingers clenching Hank’s shirt, up on your tiptoes as you lent into him. Your face was so close to his. He felt ready to burst.

You giggled, pulling him down towards you. He pushed away from the bench, fists clenching at his side, stalking out the door. Maybe a walk would cool him off. Maybe dunking Hank in the Hudson would help.

Taking some fresh air, he stared out at the industrial wasteland that surrounded the lab. It made no sense, the way you seemed to flip flop on him. Sitting there in the morning with him, making him lose his mind over his need to taste the sugar on your tongue. Then to turn around and make him lose his mind by flirting with Hank.

You were going to be the death of him.

“Am I interrupting some kind of meditation?”

Why must you continually find him when he was trying to screw his head on properly? Your arms appeared in his peripheral vision, resting against the railing next to his. Your shoulder brushed his and his fingers clenched around the cold rusting metal.

“Just getting some fresh air,” he said.

“That’s not like you. Usually you have to be dragged kicking and screaming out of the lab,” you said with a small smile, intimate, like you knew him better than he knew himself.

“What can I say? Times are changing,” he said with a small shrug.

“Not too much, I hope,” you said, leaning into his side, “I like you just the way you are.”

“Not enough,” he muttered.

“What was that?”

Your wide eyes looked up at him and he shook his head.

“Nothing.”

“You know, if there’s something you want to ask me or say to me you always can,” you said.

He considered it, just for a moment, what it would do it he told you exactly what had been going on with him all day. All the thoughts he’d been having about you. The spike of jealousy at seeing you turn your flirtation on Hank. But the way you were looking at him was so open, almost like you were expecting him to say something life changing. He could do it, admit exactly what he wanted and get the girl.

Except then he remembered how easily you flirted with Hank and he had to wonder if he’d been reading it all wrong. That he wasn’t special. That there was no way you’d return his feelings.

“I know,” he said, “shall we get back to work?”

You wound your arm around his, huddling closer as you fell into step beside him. The feeling of your body brushing against him was almost painful. It was like you’d plucked his dream straight from his head, the feel of you going to be burnt into his head for the rest of his life. And you had no idea what you were doing to him.

He would have groaned if you hadn’t been close enough to hear him.

You kept close for the rest of the day, hovering around him as you worked together. Any time he looked up he caught your eyes already on him, eyebrows drawn together as if trying to work out some kind of problem, like he was a maths equation.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Sure.” You smiled brightly at him, “you’re just acting a bit weird today.”

“No I’m not,” he replied, too quickly.

Your hand reached out again, resting on his forearm, the warmth of your touch going through him. He looked down it then back at you. You offered him a little half smile, one that made his heart beat double time. He wanted to lean forward and kiss you. Maybe you saw something of it because you lent in, lips parting, eyes turning liquid.

He coughed, turning away. Now was not the time for that. He couldn’t be thinking those things. It was work and you were you and you deserved more respect than his thoughts were giving you.

When his eyes darted back to you he thought he saw disappointment on your face. He should just ask you, then he wouldn’t have to keep wondering.

Until you got up and rejoined Hank and his stupid plants.

Clearly he had misread that again.

He sighed, just wanting to get through the rest of the day. He loved when you flirted with him in the moment but then the moment you worked away he had no idea what to think. Beyond the fact that all he could think about was kissing you.

He needed some space to get his head on straight and breathe. Then he could tackle it tomorrow.

👻👻👻👻👻

“He was so totally jealous.”

You groaned, head falling forward into your hands.

“What?” Jessie asked, “this is good. When guys get jealous they do drastic things to win you over. Seriously. He’s going to like punch that plant guy or something.”

“I don’t want him assaulting anyone,” you moaned, feeling sick.

“Okay well he probably won’t punch him. He doesn’t seem the type. But he might kiss you,” she said.

“You mean you,” you said.

“No, because I promised I wasn’t going to kiss him,” she said.

You sighed. You’d been right. This was such a bad idea. You should call it off now. Let Lars think it was just two weird days, aberrations before you went back to normal. This was not going to end well. He was going to hate.

“Look, I have a plan. Tomorrow I’m going to push him to the brink. Seriously. Right to the brink. And then the day after you take over again when he’s so wild with desire all he’s going to do is grab you and ravish you.”

All you could do was gape at her. There was nothing you could say. Your life had turned into madness and there was no one but yourself to blame.

“Great plan, right?” she said, grinning at you.

“I don’t know.” You sounded faint, “I guess.”

“Just you wait and see. It’s going to be perfect.”

👻👻👻👻👻

Lars was on alert for your presence. He felt like he had to protect himself or else he was going to do something he regretted. Like confess his feelings at your feet. He didn’t know what had changed, but your behaviour was driving him insane. In all the best ways. But still insane.

He shouldn’t have worried. You were perched on Hank’s desk, fingers stroking along the leaves of his latest plant. It was a caress. And the way Hank was watching your hands, he knew exactly what he was thinking. Probably because he was thinking similar things. Things about having those hands caressing him.

So he did the reasonable thing. He slunk away so he didn’t have to watch as you made someone else fall for you. Or at least chat you up until you went home with him.

Only you had grown an annoying habit of finding him when he least wanted to be found. He looked up from the shadowy corner he’d found himself in, studying the newly returned possessor. The tennis ball bounced around the room, smacking against the glass as he noted down observations. And watched the senseless destruction.

“Are you avoiding me?” Your voice was sweet and he would happily drown in it under different circumstances.

“No,” he said, pushing his glasses up with his index finger, “of course not.”

“I was looking for you,” you said.

“Why?” he asked.

“Do I need a reason to want to spend time with my favourite parabiologist?”

The way you smiled at him was making his head spin. You took a step towards him, stumbling until his hands came up, catching you around the elbow to steady you. Your hand landed on his chest, burning through the layers of clothing. You were slow to drag your eyes up to his, fingers clenching around the fabric of his shirt.

You pushed up onto tiptoes, something fierce coming over your face. He stumbled back, inadvertently pulling you with him, his back hitting the glass of the possessor’s tank. You pressed forward more insistently, pinning him there as you tugged on his shirt, pulling him down towards you.

“Don’t you just find shadowy corners so sexy?” you whispered, lips brushing against his ear.

He shuddered. Your teeth nipped at his earlobe and a rush of something went through him. His eyes blinked open, resting on the enclosure behind you. Pressing closer, he felt you suck his earlobe into his mouth.

His fingers tightened on your arms and he wanted to drag you closer until your skin was against his. Only his eyes were still on the enclosure behind you. The very empty enclosure. His eyebrows drew together even as he felt the tug on his earlobe.

If the ghost was free…

It was like something thunked into place. Three days of such changed behaviour in you. Three days of something different. Three days of being driven mad.

He shoved you away, eyes scanning over you. Your cheeks flushed and he could see the sting of rejection in your eyes, something he never wanted to see there. But was it you? Or was it…?

“I’m sorry,” you said, sounding breathless, the well of tears in your eyes, “I thought…”

You shook your head, turning on your toes and fleeing. His hand reached out, wanting to stop you, to drag you back, to hide in an even more shadowy corner. Instead, he stepped forward, hand resting against the cool glass of the empty enclosure. Peering in, it felt as if his worst suspicions had been confirmed.

He wasn’t sure what to do.

👻👻👻👻👻

“You scared him off.”

All of those thoughts you’d had before were screaming at you. Of course agreeing to this foolish plan was a mistake. Lars was never going to speak to you again after the spectacle Jessie had made of you. You wouldn’t be surprised if you were fired for her behaviour.

“I can fix this. I swear it was all going to well. I can make it better,” Jessie said.

You were pacing backwards and forwards in front of her tank, not able to stop. You had to do something or else you might burst into tears.

“You can’t. You’ve ruined everything. He’s never going to so much as look at me again. I should never have agreed to this,” you spat.

“Don’t blame me. You were the one so desperately in love with him you needed my help,” she said.

“And all you’ve done is made sure he’ll never want me,” you said.

“I’ve always wanted you.”

You jumped, whirling around. A shadowy figure stepped forward, your heart in your throat. Tears jumped into your eyes and you found yourself taking a step back, even as the shadows parted and you saw the man standing back, keeping his distance.

“Lars,” you breathed.

“You know we’re not meant to let the ghosts out,” he said.

“I know.”

He took another step towards you, just one, and you felt the need to flee. How much had he heard? Enough to say that he… that he…

“You want me?” you asked.

“I’d rather not have this conversation with an audience.” His eyes darted to Jessie then back to you.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m pretty invested in this love story,” she said.

“And that’s why I’d like to do this elsewhere.”

He held out a hand to you. Without conscious thought, you went to him, his hand resting on the small of your back to lead you away. The warmth of his palm against your spine made you feel breathless. It wasn’t the first time he’d touched you, but it was the most significant. Or at least, you thought it might be.

He led to you to small couch you’d convinced Winston to bring in, for those late night work sessions. Many nights you’d curled up on it, you and Lars whispering theories to one another in the dark. More than once you’d nodded off against his shoulder. Now, you kept to your side of the couch, tensing your muscles to keep from sliding into the middle where you would inevitably touch him.

“You’ve been letting Jessie possess you,” he said.

You couldn’t look at him. The only response he got was a small nod.

“Why?”

You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut before turning to look at you. He was already looking back and when you turned, your knee brushed against his thigh. You looked down at it, the small connection between you. Fingers tilted your chin back up and you felt your breath catch.

“Please tell me why you would do that?” he asked.

It was dangerous how easily you gave in to him.

“We’re friends,” you said, “but the way I feel about you is more than platonic. And sometimes I thought you might feel the same way but I couldn’t tell. So when I was talking to Jessie about it she suggested that she… She knows how to flirt and make men like her. It was stupid, I know but I was desperate. Loving you has become torture.”

“That doesn’t bode well for what I’m about to say,” he said.

His fingers were still under your chin, forcing you to keep eye contact with him. His other hand slid along your knee, resting on your thigh, fingers gently digging in. You were breathless, falling into him like a wormhole.

“I wish you’d just talked to me about this. You wouldn’t have had to go through all of this,” he said.

You braced for the rejection.

“Because I feel the same way.”

The way he was looking at you was making you reel. A half smile, a cocky smirk, but eyes that felt liquid, smouldering as he looked at you. You were leaning towards him and his hand was climbing up your leg.

“You do?” you asked, voice soft, not quite able to believe it.

“How could I not fall for you? You’re perfect just the way you are,” he said.

He pulled you closer, lips brushing together. You gasped, pressing closer, fingers sliding into his soft hair, pulling him towards you. He fell into you, pushing you back against the arm of the sofa, body aligning with yours. He fell between your legs, keeping you pinned to the couch cushions as you arched into him.

His kiss was soft and intense, desire melting through your veins like ice. You wanted more, to feel him everywhere, to drown in him. The way his tongue licked into your mouth had you moaning, tugging on his hair until he growled into your mouth. His hips pressed more firmly into you, almost grinding against you.

“Hey, if you two are getting it on, can you do it where I can see?”

He grumbled something into your mouth but pulled back with a parting kiss. You felt drunk off him, hazy and needy. He was slow to stand, hands brushing over your body as he did, only making you squirm. Pulling you up, he curled his arm around your waist, pulling you closer again.

“Guys?”

You ignored Jessie, pushing up on tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. He hummed, arm tightening before releasing you.

“Are you guys still there?”

“Goodbye Jessie,” he called over to her enclosure.

His hand closed around yours, tugging you out of the lab, into the dark of the night. You stumbled closer, the cool wind making you shiver. You pressed closer, leeching his body warmth in the chilled night.

“Can you just…” You tried to figure out how to word it, “can you just say how you feel again?”

“I’m completely and stupidly in love with you,” he said without missing a beat, arm curling around your shoulder to keep you close, “and if you want to keep flirting with me I won’t be upset about it.”

“But as me properly, right?” you asked, “not like Jessie?”

“She was too intense. I want the real you,” he said.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as you came to your parked car. You looked up into those blue eyes you’d been dreaming about, fingers curling around the collar of his jacket, tugging him down.

“Then you should know that I find you hotter than an exothermic reaction,” you whispered, lips brushing his.

He groaned, kissing you deeply against the side of your car, as if he couldn’t help himself. You laughed, nipping at his bottom lip as you drew back.

“I much prefer your form of flirting,” he said, forehead falling forward against yours.

“Good,” you said.

He kissed you again and you melted against him. Stupid plan, stupid ghost, stupid insecurities. You could get the guy all on your own.

#lars pinfield #lars pinfield imagine #lars pinfield x reader #anon #request

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colibrie · 1 day

Text

Reflections, part I

Art (and some writing!) courtesy of @trilobitepunch

Found sumthin…”

Donnie jumped, biting down on the urge to hiss as the sound of Raphie’s voice, soft as it tried to be, raked a knife sharply across his nerves. His insides writhed with the need to scream, or bite, or tuck himself into a dark corner and rock until the world disappeared. But he couldn’t do that. The master’s had always disapproved when he did. They had scolded him to “center himself”, to “release the feelings to the Force”. And he had tried too. So, so many times, he had tried to do as they said to control his body and mind. It had never worked. Only his family had… But the masters were gone, and so were most of his family. There was only one left. Only Raph. Raphael and Donatello against a cold world that did not care about them, and so Donnie had to find that stupid center and pull. Himself. Together.

He bit down hard on his lip, the pain helpfully grounding as he squashed those writhing, icky needs down and locked them away, smoothing his face into practiced neutrality before turning to look at his big brother. Raphael stood a few feet away, nervously shifting from foot to foot. His head was wrapped in makeshift bandages torn from the relatively cleaner portion of his inner robe, partially covering a patch of rust red crusted over the left side of his face. Small flakes broke away as his beak pulled back into a tentative smile, fluttering down to join the detritus of the alleyway as his hands triumphantly presenting their prize for Donatello’s inspection.

It was, in short, not much. Two slightly smushed ration bars in torn wrappers and a hunk of visibly stale bread. Not the most filling spread, or the most nourishing. But neither of them could afford to turn down the calories.

“Well done, Raphie,” Donnie nodded, something in his heart loosening when Rahael beamed at him. “You should take your portion first.”

“Nuh-uh! You go first Donnie!” Raph denied, puffing out his cheeks when Donnie shook his head.

“No Raphie, you require a greater level of caloric intake.”

“Raph doesn’t know about calor-a-whatitz, but you said I was your big brother, yeah? That means it’s my responsibility to take care’a you.”

“I am not that hungry,” Donnie protested, his tummy twisting uncomfortably as he stared at the food in Raph’s palms.

“That’s wha you said earlier, but I also know you haven’t eaten in a while. You gotta eat if yah wanna get big an strong Dee.”

“I…”

“Just try. Please?”

“…Sigh. Very well.”

The way Raph’s face lit up with pride and relief gave him the strength to reach out and take one of the ration bars. He broke off half, then grudgingly took a little bit more when the chasm between Raph’s eyes grew. The texture, like pavement gravel, dried sand, and fake fruit, made him want to puke, but he forced his reflexes back enough to swallow. Neither of them could afford to waste food.

“Come on, lets sit fer a few minutes, yeah?” Raph said, one hand landing on the back of Donatello’s shell to steer him closer to the ally wall.

“We shouldn’t stay in one place,” Donnie protested, even as his traitorous legs trembled beneath him, “the lower levels of Coruscant are dangerous.”

“An we’ll run faster if we take breaks when we can, right?”

“That is…unusually logical of you Raphala.”

“Really?”

Donatello’s heart sank at the hopeful look that Raph shot him as they curled up together behind a dumpster.

“Yes. You’ve always been a more, in your words, gut based turtle…I…take that to mean your memories have not returned?”

“Not beyond what you’ve told me,” Raph shrugged, looking down as he gnawed the bread. “I’m Raphael, your big brother. We’re Jedi, or we were? Somethin happened in the temple, an we had to run away. Then the tunnel collapsed when the bad guys caught up to us. Did I forget anything?”

“No, that is the gist of events,” Don confirmed, forcing himself to eat another tiny piece of the ration bar. “I will admit, I was hoping to see more come back independently.”

Hope was perhaps an incorrect term for the unidentifiable mess of emotions that churned inside him, but Donnie didn’t have the energy or inclination to try to pull those impossible threads apart. Not without…

“Well, maybe you could tell me more?”

More… a dangerous concept.

“What specifically would you like to know?”

“I dunno. What the temple was like? Did we have any other family there?”

“The temple?”

His face pinched slightly. He couldn't really fault his brother for wanting to know what he couldn't recall, knowing full well he'd want to extract every detail he could regain if he were in the same position. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t if it meant… It was a horrifying thought he quickly backed away from, ducking his head and drawing in a breath as he prepared his response, reluctantly letting his thoughts dip back into simpler, more pleasant times.

Vaulted halls supported by towering pillars and dappled with sunlight. The lush humidity within the Room of a Thousand Fountains, the blissful hush of the Archives. The soft, colorful walls of the creche, covered in drawings made by little hands. Food smudged on tiny fingers, colorful patterns swirling over a tiny shell…

“DeeDee! DeeDee I dwew this fo you!”

“It bwoke DeeDee, can you fix it?”

“I luve you DeeDee!”

"The temple.... was the only home we knew. It was huge, and somehow both busy and quiet. People were always coming and going, especially after the war started. Jedi come from all over the galaxy, so we lived in the creche with others, and we had lessons in all matter of subjects. As for family…”

“Dee! Pst, Dee! Bet I can block more than you!”

“It’s gonna okay DonDon, don’t listen to them. Do you want to squeeze my hand?”

“That’s never gonna happen to us, Donatello. It’s going to be you and me, always. I promise.”

"...the Order was more or less family, but the Jedi didn’t encourage bonds and connections between its members," he finished, pretending to nibble at his ration bar to hide as he swallowed hard around the knot in his throat.

It was hard to keep that mask on with the pain of everything lost still so fresh. When that messy cyclone of emotions twisted and knotted even tighter inside of him. As his thoughts circled continuously around those last moments in the sewer tunnel, and those lost beneath the cave in. Master Yoshi, Michelangelo, Leo...

He didn't even try to swallow another bite of his rations as something hot and sour and wrong flooded his throat, coating his tongue and teeth in bitterness. His stomach roiled, every little ache seemingly magnified as the emotions in his chest screamed their names over and over and over and-

“Well, at least we still got each other, right?”

Raphaels words pulled him from the maelstrom, gave him the strength to look up as one big arm wrapped around his shoulders. He stared as Raph smiled, the same smile overflowing with the warmth and reassurance only his eldest brother could provide. An eldest brother free from the enormity of all they had lost.

“…Yes,” He replied, bowing his head as he carefully tucked those names, and the memories they brought with them, away within his own memory.

“It’s for the best,” his mind whispered. “He doesn’t need to feel this. He doesn’t need to miss them. I can bear it for the both of us.”

“Come on then, lil bro,” Raph’s arm gently guided him back to his feet, taking the remains of his ration bar to tuck away for later. “Let’s try to look for a good place to sleep.”

……..

"What have we here?"

#rottmnt #rottmnt x sw #rottmnt Synthesis #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt raph #rottmnt krang #turtle tots #angst fairy writes #the babies aren't alright #send help

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ih21506 · 11 hours

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Can you do a fic where the reader meets Sam as a teenager in high school, they fall in love, but Sam has to leave? I don't know but I would really like to read something like that :)

| Teenage Heartbreak |

Pairing(s): Teen!Sam Winchester X Teen! Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff / Angst

Warning(s): heartbreak, kissing, mention of arguments.

A/N: I love this idea, and I’ve loved writing it. I was also thinking of doing a second part to this where Sam and reader meet again, years later, so when you’ve read this let me know if that’s something you’d like to see.

——————————————————

The 10th Grade class was settled and seated into their first lesson of the day, the teacher was about to start speaking, then the classroom door opened and in walked boy.

“I think I’m supposed to be in here?” The boy said and the teacher checked a piece of paper on her desk.

“What’s your name?”

“Sam Winchester, Ma’am,”

The teacher confirmed that this Sam Winchester was supposed to be in this classroom, then told him to sit in the empty chair next to you.

“Hi, I’m-” Sam began to say to you but you cut him off.

“I know, I was also in the classroom a minute ago when you said your name,” You said, Sam opened his mouth as if he was about to speak but then he closed it again, “I’m Y/n,”.

You stuck your hand out towards him, and he shook it.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Sam said with a small smile.

“So where’d you move from?” You asked Sam as the two of you walked down the school hallway.

“Nowhere really, my family moves all over the place, never stay in one place for long,” He explained and your brows scrunched together.

“Doesn’t it get lonely? Moving all the time?” You questioned and Sam shrugged his shoulders.

“Not really, I guess I’m just used to it by now,” Sam told you, the two of you then arrived at your locker.

“Am I right when saying you’ll need to catch up with the school work?”

“You are,”

“Well…” You picked up a pen, and tore some paper out of one of your books, then wrote down your address, “Come over after school, I’ll help you,”

—

“You didn’t,” You smiled and Sam nodded his head.

“Yep, you should have seen how angry our father was when he found my brother and I,” Sam said to you.

It was another night of you and Sam studying together, you sat up with your legs crossed and Sam laid on his side, propping himself up on his elbow. By now Sam was pretty caught up with school, m you just used studying as an excuse to hang out.

“What about your mom? You don’t talk about her much,” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

“My- um… My mom died when I was a baby,” Sam said and now you felt bad for bringing it up.

“Sam I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-” You began speaking but Sam cut you off, placing his hand on yours.

“It’s ok, really. Like I said, she died when I was a baby, so…” He told you.

Looking down at your hands, you lifted yours with Sam’s, interlocking your fingers, and Sam followed your actions.

You looked from your hands and back to Sam, for a moment the both of you sat in a comfortable silence, then he pushed himself up and pressed his lips against yours.

“Y/n! I’m going to the store, do you need anything?!” Your mom called from downstairs, making you and Sam pull apart.

“No!” You yelled back. The sound of the front door opening and closing soon followed, then you and Sam laughed.

“Let’s go out somewhere tomorrow, somewhere nice, I’ll pick you up,” Sam said and a smile formed on your lips.

“Like a date?”

“Yeah, a date,”

—

Your first date with Sam was perfect, he was perfect, and there have been many more since.

This being one of them… The two of you had a blanket laid out in the park grass with a picnic basket sat close by. Sam sat with his hands placed behind him, propping himself up, while you laid with your head in his lap as you read your book, occasionally sharing random facts with him.

“I got you something,” Sam suddenly said as he reached into his pocket. You sat up on your knees and Sam pulled out a small square box, handing it to you.

“What is it?” You asked, and Sam laughed at you.

“Open it and you’ll see, won’t you?”

Rolling your eyes at him playfully, you pulled off the lid, which revealed a simple silver chain that had a star pendent, with a small opal crystal in the middle of it, attached to the chain.

You had always been fascinated with stars, astrology, and things like that, something Sam was well aware of, which made you love the necklace even more.

“Sam, I love it, thank you,” You spoke as you carefully pulled the necklace out of the box, “Help me put it on?”

“Yea, of course,” Sam sat up fully and took the necklace, then you turned around and held up your hair so it wouldn’t get in the way.

When Sam fastened the clasp, the thin chain fell perfectly around your neck.

You turned around and hugged Sam, his left arm wrapped around your waist while he used his other to prop himself up again. Pulling your head back, you kissed Sam and he happily kissed you back.

“Y/n I-” Sam began to speak, but then an unknown voice came from behind you, cutting Sam off.

“Isn’t this adorable,”. You turned your head and was about to say to something to this stranger, but then Sam spoke first making you quickly realise the guy wasn’t a stranger.

“Dean? What the hell are you doing here?!” Sam asked, sounding irritated.

“Dad and I just got back from our… work trip. Imagine my surprise when I found out my baby brother has a girlfriend,” This Dean said with a smirk, then Sam turned to you.

“I’m so sorry, I’ll be back in just a minute,” Sam told you, then he was up on his feet and dragging his brother away.

From what you could see, the two were arguing, so to preoccupy yourself, you picked your book back up and began ‘reading’ it, occasionally looking up to glance at Sam and Dean.

Eventually, Sam returned back to you and sat in his previous position, so you placed your book back down.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, concern written all over your face.

“Everything’s more than okay,” Sam told you, with a small smile.

“M’kay, if you say so,” You hummed, Sam then pulled you back towards him by your waist and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I do say so,” He said back, his eyes flicked down to your lips for a moment before they moved back up to your eyes and he whispered, “I love you,”

You were slightly taken aback by his words, but once they sunk in and you had processed them in your head, a smile formed on your lips.

“I love you too,”

—

Sam seemed a little off recently, from what he tells you after showing up on yours and your mothers doorstep most evenings, he’s been getting into a lot of arguments with his father.

He never specified what they were about, but they seemed bad. And thankfully your mom was quite fond of Sam so she didn’t mind him being around so much…

Tonight was another one of those nights, around an hour ago, Sam showed up and now the two of you laid in your room. The two of you had fallen into a comfortable silence, you laid on your back and Sam had his head resting on your chest while you played with his hair.

“My dad’s moving us to another town, most likely another state.” Sam told you, breaking the silence, and you took a deep breath.

“When?” You asked, and Sam was hesitant to answer.

“Tomorrow morning…” He said and you sat up.

“What? How long have you known about this?”

“Two weeks, it’s why I’ve been in so many arguments with him, I’ve been trying to stop it,”

“Sam, we can still stay in touch there are ways of doing that, why do you sound like it’s impossible to do that?” You said to Sam and he sat up this time.

“We move a lot, this is probably the longest we’ve stayed in one place, we never go to the same place twice, and there’s times where I’m not able to talk to people outside of my family for weeks, a whole month sometimes,” Sam explained and you were in shock.

“Jesus Christ Sam, you sound like your on the run or something!” You said in disbelief, and Sam sighed in defeat.

“It’s just my dads work… I’m sorry,” Sam kissed your cheek before he got up from your bed and headed towards the door.

Tears flooded your eyes as you watched Sam walk away. When he got to your bedroom door and was about to leave you quickly got off your bed and practically ran after him.

“Sam, wait,” You spoke, he turned around and you placed your hands on his cheeks, “Do you have to go home tonight?”

“I can be picked up in the morning,” He told you, and you placed your lips on his.

“Stay tonight…”

The next morning came too fast for your liking, one minute you was laid in bed with your head on Sam chest while he held you, and the next Sam was being called downstairs by your mother telling him his brother was here.

When you got to the bottom of the stairs, you hugged Sam for a good two minutes before he placed a kiss on your forehead.

Neither of you could bring yourselves to say a last goodbye, and before either of you had a chance to second guess yourselves and say something, Sam walked past his brother and out of the door.

“Y/n, I’m sorry we have to leave like this,” Dean said to you as he stepped out onto the porch.

“I hope whatever it is your father does for work, is worth it to him, because all it does is hurt Sam,” You said then closed the front door.

Turning around, you saw your mom stood with a sympathetic look on her face before you broke down in tears.

“Oh c’mere, sweetheart,” She told you and you walked into her arms.

“It hurts mom,” You cried as it felt like your heart shattered into a million pieces.

Outside, Sam sat in the back of the impala, his eyes fixated on the neighbourhood outside as tears threatened to fall down his cheeks.

“Sammy you good?” Dean asked as he sat next to their father in the front.

“Yeah… amazing,” Sam said, his voice void of any enthusiasm or emotion.

“Don’t worry kid, you’ll find someone just as good as her,” John said as he started the engine.

Dean looked back at his younger brother for a moment, guilt settling in his chest as the impala began to move.

A tear escaped down Sam’s cheek, as the silent suffering of heart break overwhelmed him.

He hoped that he could feel okay eventually, but he also hoped his father was wrong. Sam truly believed there would never be anyone as good to him and as perfect as you was…

——————————————————

#dean winchester #sam winchester #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #spn #spnfandom #supernatural #fluff #angst #sad ending

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e-r0da · 3 days

Text

The gym.

Pro-hero Kirishima x Reader

AN: Posting this again. Got too embarrassed the first time around but fuck it we ball.

CW: NSFW, MDNI. Kiri is a yandere. Reader is afab and referred to with gn. Dub-con, praise, use of daddy/baby pet names, heavy-petting and fingering, oral, dacryphilia, and a smidge of impact-play and ass-play but it’s teeny tiny. Reader is developing Stockholm syndrome but they’re in denial.

Wc: 2.2k

“You want to use the gym? Why?”

“Well...I want to be strong—like you!”

Would he buy that?

You held your breath as Kirishima stopped shoveling food into his mouth, opting to chew slowly as he contemplated your words.

You had been working towards this—towards his trust—for months. Would you fail now?

Subconsciously your feet shift, pointing towards the kitchen door. Towards the escape. Not that it would do you any good if you really needed it.

He swallowed.

“You feeling insecure baby? Don’t get me wrong—“ you saw a bit of a blush bloom on his cheeks “—I love that you think I’m strong…but you don’t have to be.”

Huh.

You had told yourself you would stop immediately if he gave you a hard no…but this was harder to read. You don’t need to be strong like him…? Or you shouldn’t be?

You test the waters.

“I-it’s not that exactly. You know I used to go to the gym…before. I miss it. I miss being able to challenge myself.”

You had to choose your words wisely. This was about what you needed for yourself—not about anything he was failing to provide. Saying anything that even insinuated as much would hurt him, and that wouldn’t work.

In the beginning, when you still thought that you could forge a way out on your own, hurting him didn’t bother you. But now that you’ve realized that the only way out was through Kirishima, well. You were forced to come to terms with the fact that hurting him also made him more overbearing, less generous with your liberties.

So you squirmed in your seat, trying to read his silence before deciding to push harder.

You laced your plea with a bit of vulnerability, hoping that would make it ring true.

“I-uh.”

“Yeah?”

“And I guess some insecurity plays into it, too.”

He leans in. You lower your gaze.

The last part comes out as a whisper. “I mean...there’s nothing left to squeeze...down there…”

Jackpot.

Kirishima let out a hoarse chuckle at your confession. You mimicked him, but your laughter came out of relief. You did it.

“Baby! Baby. C’mere.”

He pulled his chair back, spreading thick thighs to make you a seat on his lap while you made your way over. As you straddle his legs, he starts preparing you a spoonful of the kimchi rice you two had made earlier. It’s covered in runny egg yolk as you like, the gooey softness hiding the spice beneath.

He tells you to open wide before he stuffs you with it.

“First of all, I think you have the cutest tush I’ve ever seen, baby. So don’t say that.”

It’s embarrassing the way he watches intently as you chew and try to nod, the way he wipes off a bit of yolk from the side of your mouth, the way he fusses over you.

But to an extent it also made your heart ache, remembering that it was the way he cared—and continues to do so—that made you initially fall for him.

“—plus, I meant what I said, ‘ya know? I’ll take care of you.” He draws you further into him, guiding your head into the crook of his neck, before sliding the hand between your shoulder blades and then down over the curve of your ass. Your heart stutters in your throat when he places a small peck over your earlobe and hums softly, just like he used to do when things were normal.

“So if that means exercise, hmm… We can go to the gym room starting tomorrow! Oh, and of course I can be your personal trainer and give you pointers…” You release a small whimper at the realization of your success. And maybe just a bit at the hand that was now wandering over your backside. Your mind flickered between that taste of freedom and his actions. It felt so good that you didn’t want to think about the way you embraced them both. He continued on. “…of course I’ll keep track of all your…growth so you don’t need to worry about a thing…and, well, there’s a lot of ways we can get cardio covered without going outside…”

He was working you. So well that you couldn’t help but arch your back, pushing further into his chest as he slowly slid his fingers up and down your clothed pussy before giving it the softest of slaps, jolting your attention back to the present. Back to the man that owns you. The man you were trying to bargain with.

You look up at him, warm cheeks evidence of his effect. His affection. He looks down at you and grins. It’s filled with sharp teeth, interlaced with a bit of hunger.

“I love you no matter what shape you’re in, though. So if you ever wanna stop you just tell me, okay?”

Sometimes you forget this is the same man that keeps you hostage.

“T-thank you, Eijirou. It—this—means a lot to me.” You almost surprise yourself with how genuine your response is. You reason that it’s probably because you had only been allowed into just three rooms—the bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen—until just now.

That has to be it right? Gratitude for the man that provides for you so well?

According to that logic it’s only fair, you think, to give him something in return for his generosity. So you nuzzle back into him, placing a chaste kiss in the crook of his neck before ghosting your lips over his ears, testing if he agrees. And the way he jolts beneath you feels like everything you need.

So you take it another step further and whisper for him, like a sin—like a confession.

“You’re so good to me, daddy.”

Just for tonight, you think.

Just for tonight he can be the man you loved again.

You’re rewarded by the feeling of him stiff, hot, and ready beneath you—then of his tongue, demanding and wet as he crashes into you from above with a kiss. He almost growls into your mouth.

“Good fucking girl.There she is.”

You feel yourself clench around nothing at his words, choosing to chase down the shame of your actions by committing fully. You don’t want to stop, not when it feels this euphoric.

Not when you’ve been this lonely.

How long has it been?

How long has it been since he's touched you like this, since he’s lifted your dress and stared at your bare form with such adoration, such heat?

Maybe there was a reason why it's been so long, but now is not the time to remember painful things.

His hands drift back down to your lower half, neglecting his own pleasure in favor of remembering the feeling of yours. When his fingers reach to feel your pussy once more, he groans when he can feel your wetness through your panties.

“Baby, oh baby fuck.”

The light at the end of the tunnel is further than ever before as you plead with him.

“Eijirou, oh—please, you need t—mh! Please touch me.”

Your consent is all he needs to be put into action, thick arms wrapping underneath you as he lifts you up and walks you both to the bedroom, dinner long forgotten. You wrap your hands in his hair, still damp from his shower, as you whine into his mouth.

No man has ever made you feel this needy.

He softly detaches from you to lay you down on your shared bed, watching your sprawled, breathless form with wild eyes. Somewhere in your haze he ties his hair back into a small bun.

“So fucking beautiful, baby. So fucking beautiful.”

He leans over your form, forearms caging you in as he kisses you again. The two of you shake at the feeling of his bulge making contact with your heat, and almost desperately he begins to grind down into you, as if trying to burn through the layers that separate you.

He watches the place where you both connect before releasing a shaky groan into your mouth.

Maybe you know that he’s missed this. But now you realize that you’ve missed it, too.

He backs up a bit to allow impatient hands to trace your form—down the sides of your arms to your hips and waist—then underneath your ass in favor of pushing your thighs to your chest. He stares at the apex of your legs for a moment, deadly silent, before slowly moving his gaze back to yours. It’s red. Everything is red.

Breathlessly, he asks you. “Want my fingers, baby?”

Somewhere deep inside you recognize this moment as a point of no return. And what started as a fight for a sliver of freedom was quickly falling out of your control, but you were failing to realize it.

“Y-yes. Please, Eijirou. Please—mh!”

There would be a special spot in hell for the two of you when this was all said and done.

Your eyes were wide open as his lips engulfed yours, allowing you to watch the way your words sent a violent ripple of his quirk coursing through his body.

The view had you in awe, the feeling only magnified as you felt thick, calloused fingers grasp your panties, moving them to the side.

His desperate breaths on your neck contrasted the gentle ministrations of his hands exploring your pussy, simply feeling its wetness with something akin to wonder.

Why did you make him wait so long, is what fingers seem to ask with the way they hold you.

You try to lean in for another kiss, but he was already gone, dragging your lower half to the edge of the bed where he could watch you twitch and whine from on his knees.

And then he was on you.

You heard a quiet fuck leave Kirishima’s lips but the sound didn’t quite register over the feeling of him dragging his nose through your sex, inhaling your scent deeply as if to ingrain it into his memory.

Without so much as a warning he swipes a finger over your pussy, rubbing the lips from side to side, making you listen to the soft shlick! shlick! shlick! of your arousal—as if he was trying to provide both of you evidence that you still wanted him.

And then he was inside, finger inching into you, eyes glued to your face as you squeezed yours closed in favor of panting softly at the feeling.

“How is my baby doing, huh? She uh—” His gaze quickly shifts downwards “—she miss me?”

“S-so much, daddy” you practically whine. “so much!”

It’s too much, even.

He coos. “I can’t believe I’ve been neglecting my baby like this—” he starts to pump in and out of you, slowly, caressingly. He wants to make you cry. “—want me to make it all better?”

The slight friction had you clamping down around him. You were moaning like he was fucking you, and he just had a finger in. You knew that maybe this would feed his ego, but right now you couldn’t find it in you to be sensible, to care.

“Yes!” His finger starts to withdraw.

“Yes who, baby?”

“Daddy—” you breathe. How could you forget? “—yes, daddy—please daddy.”

A second finger forces its way into your heat, a silent approval of your choice of words that you have no choice but to accept glutinously, a deep hoarse whine slipping from your mouth as you do so.

“Daddy will always give his baby what she wants. Isn’t that right?”

You pant and moan rhythmically with the way he presses against your walls, mental capacity beyond responding. All that you know right now is In. Out. In. Out. And the way he breathily mimics—or matches—your whines as they grow more frantic.

He tells you to hug your knees to your chest and he loves the way you wordlessly comply, knowing how to draw out your more desperate moans when you feel a wet finger slide around the ring of muscle outlining your asshole. Kirishima planned on giving you everything right now. Who knew when you would be this pliable again?

The pleasure you feel when his spit lands on your pussy just a second later—before sliding down and down—makes you want to sob. He’s lubricating you just enough for him to press the tip of his thumb inside your second hole, all the while being your good, consistent daddy that doesn’t stop fucking your pussy with his other hand.

He gets up from his knees slowly, hands still working you, as he moves in favor of having his face over yours, watching your facial expressions transform just for him.

Subconscious tears are slipping from the corners of your eyes, giving him an excuse to lick at your face like a loyal watchdog. Your legs begin to shake. He’s everywhere. Inescapable.

You’re falling, giving in to it, gleefully trying to have it all without thinking about the consequences—when he removes his hands from your body without so much as a warning.

Of course it had to be a choice.

There were a lot of people who thought Eijirou was stupid. Just brawns.

They would never know, at least not as well as you did, how much it hurt to underestimate him.

“…Does my baby want to be fucked?”

You knew he had been waiting—waiting for you to come to him of your own volition.

If you said yes he would take it as you giving in. Of you loving him, in some way or another, like you had before.

After all, breaking you down was always his goal.

#kirishima eijirou #bnha #yandere kirishima #kirishima x reader #mha kirishima #kirishima smut #yan!kirishima

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