#[me wandering around in a haze] why do I feel So Bad

[obstinaterixatrix]

oh I think I've got it, I've been waking up earlier because my room is getting more light which means I either wake up way earlier and go back to sleep or I wake up an 1-2 hours earlier and just roll with it

[sukirichi]

VIRGIN KILLER TRIO !! & their habits

→ oliver aiku + karasu tabito + otoya eita

→ nsfw. smut. wrote this impulsively on my notes because karasu has me feeling things. aged up characters. toxic men. fingering. oral (f receiving) otoya is a cheater (canon but i love him) unedited. size kink kind offf. aiku hits it and quits it.

+ I NEED AIKU SO BAD. i also hc that karasu is a manwhore but he would teeat you so well <3

it’s hard not to catch sight of the virgin killer trio in every afterparty. there’s oliver — the smooth talker who can never remember a girl’s name, karasu — who reads your every move and can tell from across the room how badly you want him, and otoya — the quietest of them all. but don’t let his demeanor fool you. rumors have it that he’s as great in bed as he is at breaking hearts.

pick your poison, they said. don’t let the night go to waste, they said.

but all is easier said than done when oliver has forgotten his cold beer on the counter as he presses you against it during a party. he calls you names that are outright dirty and should not have made you this wet. he smells like smoke and liquor — like danger, like everything you should avoid. you know he won’t remember you the next morning and you’ll most likely wake up in an empty bed. no notes, no small gift left behind. it would be hard to tell he was ever there if it were not for the ache between your thighs and the bite marks he’d left all over your skin.

oliver fucks like the way he wins — luring his opponent and trapping them against him until you give in and submit. what’s the point of fighting anyway? you know it’s futile. you should just let him do as he pleases — to hammer into you from behind, his large hands squeezing your hips in a vice-tight grip. oh no, he’s not letting you go. he’ll keep you there until your thighs quiver and your head drops down to the pillow, the sheets drenched with sex and sweat. he’ll keep you there until his legs are tangled with yours, your tongue lolled out as he fucks out the most delicious moans from you.

oliver aiku is dirty, intoxicating, and when he leaves his mark on you, he only has one goal in purpose — to ruin you for any other man who comes next.

karasu is different. he’s sweeter, more tender with his words and gestures. he doesn’t seduce you right away. no, he likes to watch his prey first from across the room, letting his gaze wander to your pretty face and picturing if you’d look better when you’re finally coming around his cock. when he makes himself known, it’s too late. he’ll know everything about you already, just like how he knows he’ll have you putty in his hands by the end of the night. the only thing left is to prove his theories right — don’t even try to think you can hide your weaknesses from him. he can read you like an open book. he can tell from the hungry way your eyes roam over him that you’d take it like a good girl, and your eyes would roll back when he slides himself in deep.

unlike aiku, karasu doesn’t cage you under his arms and suffocates you. this isn’t a battle for him, because battles mean there’s equal chances of winning, and there’s none of that in the bedroom. karasu knows he’s stronger and has the upper hand. he knows you’re entirely at his mercy when he pins your hands above your head, his long fingers locked around your wrist. and oh, he’s sweeter, so much sweeter. he calls you beautiful and gorgeous. he worships you and leaves kisses on your body, murmuring sweet nothings like a mantra against your skin. he isn’t rough, but he fucks you hard and deep. hard enough you’re seeing stars and your toes are curling, pussy fluttering around his girth. and when he’s pushed you to the edge, he’ll make sure everyone at the party knows who made you feel that good.

karasu doesn’t leave a note. he stays the night and kisses you again, his eyes droopy in a post sex-haze. he gives you his number, because why not? he sure wouldn’t mind sleeping with you again the next time you run into each other.

the next time you attend these events, it isn’t the dominant oliver or endearing karasu who charms you. instead, otoya comes unexpectedly — slithering his way into your heart (and pants) before you could realize it. he’s subtle, and doesn’t stand out much from the crowd. it comes like a shock to you when you find yourself pressed up against a wall in a random hallway with his lips against your neck. he doesn’t say sweet things like karasu, or teases you on how you’re such a dirty whore like oliver would. no, otoya speaks with his words, and you get the message clear enough when he’s pumping his fingers in you. he’s quiet still, giving you only breathy moans and low groans when you squeeze around him — but by the heavens, he sounds the prettiest.

there is nothing quick and swift when it comes to otoya, unlike how he is when he’s speeding through the field. he takes his time with such confidence and patience that karasu would lack, since he’s too eager. and he touches you in the gentlest manners briefly reminding you of karasu, but when otoya looks at you, it’s different. with his handsome face above you, his reddened lips parted with a shuddering breath, and his eyes narrowed as he watches your cunt swallow him to the hilt. he isn’t the sweetest, but he is the most romantic. lacing his fingertips with yours, otoya swallows all your moans in a devouring kiss. his hips plunging into you in a way that you’re sure you’ll feel him for days. and he kisses like he means it — kisses your sweet pussy with his eyes closed and rough hands kneading your ass like a starved man.

and when he leaves, it’s with a hole in your heart. otoya is a silent killer, who comes and disappears into your life, but not without ensuring he’s more than just a silly fuck. because otoya didn’t have to make out lazily with you, or ask about your passions. he didn’t have to be genuinely interested in getting to know you and smile like he’s fallen in love. he didn’t have to hide that it was all a mistake — that he was already with someone else, and simply couldn’t ignore his needs when you set foot into the room and your scent got him hard.

and when the regret sinks in, otoya will barely look you in the eye. he doesn’t stay the night because there’s someone waiting for him at home.

he doesn’t ask for your name or number because it’s easier to pretend nothing happened between you. just as silently as he made his way to your heart, otoya leaves with a final resounding click of the door being shut.

because just like his friends, otoya never stays.

and they’ll be on their way to find their next conquest.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Code of Conduct 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss has a difficult time keeping his personal life from bleeding into his work. 

Characters: Steve Rogers, this reader is known as Rosie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

"This is a nice place," you look around a the brunch bistro and rub your arm. The upscale venue isn't your usual joint. You're a grab and go girly aside from your girls' nights. 

"Peggy likes it," Mr. Rogers spreads his shoulders wide as he peruses the menu in his hand, dwarfing the patio style chair, "I'm more of a pub food guy but guess it's a bit early for that." 

"Oh, well, thanks for bringing me," you smile, "I... I don't eat out a lot." 

“No?” He wonders, “guess it’s no fun eating alone,” he chuckles and tilts his head, “kinda why I asked you to come.” 

“Uh, yeah, I don’t mind so much but I’m a homebody. I like to sit at home with Mitzy and knit.” 

“Mitzy?” He narrows his eyes, “so not a husband, a girlfriend. 

You chortle, “my cat.” 

“Oh,” his cheeks tinge a little pink, “right, the picture on your desk.” 

“Yeah, her,” you smile broadly, “she usually steals my yarn though so I don’t get much done.” 

“That’s cute. Peggy doesn’t like pets,” he sits back and puts down the menu. “I cat sat for Bucky for a week back when we were engaged...” 

“Mr. Barnes has a kitty?” 

“Don’t let his hard exterior fool you, he’s not as bad as he looks,” he scoffs. “So...” he slaps his chest and drags his hand down to his stomach, “getting peckish? Whatcha thinking of getting?” 

“Hmm,” you lean forward and browse the offerings, “maybe the beet salad.” 

“Beets?” He makes a face. 

“Uh, yeah, my mom always used to have beets. I dunno.” 

“Oh yeah, you’re close with your mom.” 

“Was,” you keep your eyes on the menu, “she... passed.” 

“Uh, wow, I’m sorry. I...” 

“It’s fine. Oh, reminds me, I sent your mom her flowers for the month. Lilies.” 

“Ah, thanks. Yeah, I should call her,” he says, “but lately, I just haven’t had a chance. Every time I do, it’s just another argument with Peg--” 

He stops himself as the server returns. Your chest pangs in sympathy. Peggy hadn’t sounded happier earlier. You wonder why. Marital stuff. You’re not so sure you ever want to find out. 

“Do we know what we want?” The pretty redhead smiles. 

“Ladies first,” Mr. Rogers gestures to you. 

“Oh, sure, um, could I get the beet salad?” You say. She scribbles on her pad and looks at Mr. Rogers. 

“Ah, sure, I’ll get the roast beef with the caesar salad, dressing on the side please,” he smiles and offers his menu, “oh, and a refill on the coffee.” 

“Sure thing,” she takes both menus and heads off.  

You turn your attention to the window and look at the flower boxes just on the other side. Your eyes wander up to a passerby walking a tiny white dog and you grin. You continue to watch the world pass by, a serene glaze rolling over your vision. 

As the waitress returns with the carafe to fill Mr. Roger’s cup, you sit up and blink away your haze. He smirks over the rim of his cup and sips. You give a guilty shrug. 

“Sorry.” 

“No, it was... it’s fine. You looked... peaceful,” he says, “what are you thinking about?” 

“Nothing, really, croissants.” 

“Croissants?” He muses as he places his mug on the table. 

“Yeah, for next weeks meeting. Croissants or scones.” 

“Both?” He suggests. 

“That works,” you agree. 

“Hm, you look like that, thinking of work?” 

“I was thinking but not,” you say.  

“Right,” he nods and looks down glumly. “Wish I could get my mind to stop.” 

“Mm, I guess... I guess you’d have a lot to think about.” 

“Well, I can’t complain, you take care of most of it,” he runs his fingertips along the cup handle, “you really do just make everything easier. I never have to worry about you, Rosie.” 

“It’s my job,” you trill. 

“And you do it well and with a smile on your face. Some days... that smile keeps me sane,” he says. 

It’s your turn to blush. He can be so cheesy. You’re quiet, not sure what to say. You should thank him, maybe? 

“Well, what about a gift basket?” You cheep. 

“Huh?” Confusion lines his forehead. 

“Oh, my, sorry, I was thinking out loud,” you giggle and sit forward, “for Mrs. Rogers? She seems stressed, you too. You could send her a surprise and maybe... maybe take her somewhere nice. Not a restaurant, too busy but—but--” you keep yourself from rambling and press your fingers to your lips as you cup your chin. “Sorry.” 

“No, no, I like it. A gift basket, yeah, chocolates?” 

“She likes vanilla lattes so maybe a gift card too? She can treat herself.” 

“How do you know that?” He asks. 

“She always sends me for one when she comes in,” you shrug, “I’m more into the cinnamon dolce myself.” 

“Cinnamon, hmm, me too,” he agrees. “Where we you thinking I should take her?” 

“Oh, now I think of it, it might be expensive,” you cringe and drop your hand to the table. 

“She’s my wife, I shouldn’t worry about the money,” he says, “so?” 

“I’ve never been but um, like, a spa? Or maybe a massage place? A couples’ massage? Get the tension out?” 

“Mhmm,” he nods and his eyes narrow, “that isn’t a bad idea.” 

You grin and twiddle your fingers restlessly. Now that you can smell the kitchen, you are pretty hungry. You jitter your leg under the table as Mr. Rogers toys with his tie. 

“Too bad,” he says, “any man would be lucky to call you their wife. Maybe one day, huh?” 

[sentientgolfball]

for the smut prompts, Cirrus and Swiss with #9? <3

Swiss ghoul's favorite position is amazon, in this essay, I will--

Send a prompt and a pair !

Cirrus prides herself on staying in control. She stays focused on her music during rituals even with the thick cloud of sweat and arousal that usually comes from one of the others. She doesn’t get riled up by Swiss’ antics both on and off stage no matter how persistent he is. She keeps her hands to herself when Cumulus wants her opinion on a new outfit, even if all she wants to do is rip the clothes right off her. She can even hold out through doses of quintessence that would have any other ghouls shaking. Aether was pleasantly surprised when he found out that one, it’s all the more rewarding when he finally gets her there. She is perfectly in control of her mind and body and she likes it that way. 

But twice a year when summer turns to autumn and winter to spring, she loses that control. She hates it. It’s not necessary. She doesn’t understand why out of all the things that clung to them when moving from the Pits to Topside it was this. Though at the moment her brain is too muddled by heat to think of anything other than chasing pleasure. 

It hit earlier this year, she has no idea why. That doesn’t matter right now though. What matters is that her clothes are sticking to her and she can feel slick soaking into her underwear. Cumulus wasn’t with her. She spent the night with Mountain. Surely that’s why her gut is twisting. She needs Cumulus. She wanders through the hallway in a haze. Her only goal is to get to Mountain’s room. She needs to get there. She needs to bury her nose in Cumulus’ soft hair and lick her until she cums on her face. 

“Cir?” 

She turns at the call of her name. Swiss is standing in his doorway, half asleep and shirtless. He blinks at her, eyebrows pulled together. 

“You okay?” His voice is still raspy from disuse. 

Cirrus can’t stop herself from striding towards him. His eyes widen as she quickly closes the distance between them. She runs her nose up the column of his throat, breathing in his amber and spice scent. It hits her all at once, a desperate need to smell like him. To taste him. She wasn’t burning for Cumulus. She’s burning for Swiss. She pushes him back into his room, kicking the door shut behind her. 

“Cirrus what—?” He wraps his hands around her biceps. 

“Need you. Need you right now.” She looks up at him. 

It hits him then. Cirrus never looks desperate, but that’s the only word to describe the look on her face. With his mind starting to fully wake up he finally registered the horribly sweet scent radiating off of her. He blinks. She’s in heat. And she wants him to help her break it. Him. Not Cumulus. Him. A grin slowly spreads across his face. 

“Oh my sweet little harpy you must need it bad if you came to me. What? Too stupid to go find your mate? Had to jump the first person you see?” 

She leans forward and sinks her fangs into his scent gland making him yelp, “Shut the fuck up. Strip. Lay on the bed.” 

He does so immediately. He may like to tease, but he won’t hold out on her. In any other circumstance he would. He would want to see what would be the magic words to get her to tie him up and leave him in the common room with the biggest plug she could find shoved up his ass, but not now. Not with something like this. So he rips his sweats off and lays back on the bed. 

She undresses as quickly as she can, sports bra and lounge shorts thrown who knows where. She crawls onto the bed, resting between Swiss’ legs. Her eyes rake over him, figuring out how she wants him. Swiss on the hand can’t look away from where she’s drooling onto the sheets. As wet as a water ghoul. He can start to feel his cock chub up. He’s so distracted staring at her cunt that he jumps when Cirrus wraps a hand around him. She pets up the length of his cock, occasionally squeezing until he’s at full hardness. 

Once she’s satisfied she drops him, letting him lay hot and heavy against his stomach. He watches her with half lidded eyes as she grabs his knees and pulls them up to his chest. 

“Hold,” she growls. 

“Yes ma’am,” he lilts and grabs the backs of his thighs. 

She reaches between his legs and pulls his cock through the gap. She slides up, practically sitting on the back of his thighs. It clicks in his mind as she starts to sink down on him. He groans when that slick heat wraps around him. He laughs, a little breathless already. This is always his favorite thing to do with her. 

“Yeah go on, don’t hold back. Fuck me like how I fuck you.” His hands grab at her hips when she’s flush against him. 

He drops his head back against the pillows when she starts to thrust. Swiss has never been more happy to be the one to break a heat. 

[beanmachine69]

Movie Night | Fernando Alonso

It was supposed to be an innocent movie night, it really was. Except you were completely and utterly turned on- not wanting to admit it because Fernando seemed so excited to watch this movie. You really wouldn't be in the desperate state you were if he hadn't come out of the shower, dripping wet and leaning on the door frame and all- you really were set up for failure.

So there you were, head on his shoulder, with his arm wrapped around you as you clenched and rubbed your thighs together to get some friction going. You could feel his calloused hands rub your shoulder occasionally and that was not helping at all- it was actually doing the exact opposite, it was making you so desperate and needy you felt like you could scream. Jus the feel of his hands against your skin burning desires into you. But he seemed so interested in the movie and just didn't seem as horny as you were, plus you felt bad since this was the first time in a while where you two managed to sit together and relax. Except for you though, you were definitely not relaxed.

You frankly had no idea what you were watching, you'd even manage to forget the name of the movie in the haze you were in. All you focused and cared about were his stupid grey sweatpants and how good his arms looked through his t-shirt and good he'd feel if he just fucked you into the couch right now-

"Is the movie not good?" He asked, face turned to yours, smirk tugging on his lips.

"No no, it's great." You chirped, lying as to cover up your thoughts. Even after all this time, he still made you all flustered.

"Hm, yeah you like it?" He asked, now completely turned to you, his face exhibiting a sort of cockiness you were far too familiar with; he had caught onto your lie and was going to make you admit to it.

"Yeah, it's nice, I'm glad we get to do this." You smiled nuzzling into him to distract him.

"Yeah, yeah." He replied, kissing your head and drawing circles on your arm before chuckling and continuing, "Except I've noticed something."

You shut your eyes in his chest, you knew where he was taking this conversation.

"You seem a bit, uh, distracted." Without seeing his face, you could tell he was smirking.

"Oh really? yeah sorry I must be uh, zoning out." Now you had to hold your ground, you weren't going to give up so easily.

"Hm yeah, is that why you were rubbing your thighs during a funeral scene?" He asked, almost unable to contain the laugh that vibrated through his chest. "Is there something you want to tell me? Cariño are you getting turned on at funeral scenes? Or is something else on your mind?"

The blood was rushing straight to your face. You were so distracted that you hadn't noticed that he'd not only see you rub your thighs, but he was fully aware of your lack of interest in the film.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You huffed, pretending to be offended.

"Hm, you don't?" He asked, pulling you away from him so he could see your face.

"Nope." You lied again, despite knowing that he was on your case. You couldn't even look him in the eye, nor could you look at any other part of him, his arms holding you felt so good, your thoughts were at the verge of wandering away again, despite your circumstances.

"You're not turned on?" He asked again, eyes crinkling on the sides from his smirk.

"Nope." You couldn't get any other word out, afraid that your lie would get caught.

He didn't reply this time, only pushing you further away till your back hit the couch, making your eyes widen in response. His silence made you nervous, his devilish smirk not aiding your cause. He brought his face close to yours, close enough where you could feel his breath on your lips. One of his hands propping him over you, while the other slid down your waist, pausing at the hem of your panties, stretching it and letting go abruptly, the noise clearly audible despite the movie in the background. Your yelp only made him chuckle.

"You know I don't like it when you lie y'know."

"But I'm not lying." You whined, trying to get yourself out of the trouble you'd be in momentarily.

"You're not? What if I put my hands in your little soaking panties to check, hm?" He asked, his hands already making their way to your very wet entrance. "Oh, would you look at that, my naughty little girl was lying."

You gulped, eyes fixated on his, chest heaving against his, anticipating his every move. You knew how hot he'd get when he'd punish you, and you knew that despite your futile efforts, that movie had been long forgotten between you two.

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A/N: I don't talk about my second favourite Spaniard enough, god he's so hot I need him like I need air.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed the blurb. As usual, send in requests or criticism, love u all<3

[neuvistar]

WOW, STRAIGHT INTO IT!

— featuring ┊ kaveh x fem!reader

— warnings / content warnings ┊slight suggestiveness throughout it all, makeout sessions(?), neck kissing(?), kaveh being such a shy yet desperate sweetheart, use of nicknames (angel, pretty, etc), overall (slight) suggestive content || 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (this is a little short <3)

✦ 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇

kaveh swallowed the lump in his throat, he was nervous. nervous to make you uncomfortable, yet he was aware that he had an advantage over you as he slowly moved his hand closer before running his fingers along your side under the blankets, right past the waistband of your pants. kaveh’s fingers slowly and deliberately fumbled the waistband of your pajama pants. after a few seconds, he removed them, revealing your bare skin beneath. he took his time admiring you, eyes wide as his eyes wandered all over your body, taking in every single detail. yeah, you’re his alright.

“is it alright if i..?—“ he looked at you with such sincerity, one hand along your hips while the other tugged on the hem of your shirt. you nodded as he didn’t waste any time slipping you out of the shirt, seeing that you were covering your body slightly. “why are you covering yourself? there’s nothing to be ashamed of, princess. i want to see you like this.”

“are you telling the honest truth?”

“absolutely.”

kaveh pulled you closer to his body, until you both were practically skin-to-skin. there was a heat and intensity in his embrace that was undeniable and intoxicating; every breath he took and every beat of his heart made you feel it in every inch of your body. you reached down to caress his toned stomach, he breathed in sharply as your hand moved along his skin, his muscles tightening beneath your touch.

“ah.. are you enjoying this, angel?”

“mm. it seems you are as well, kaveh”

“i am, i couldn’t be more happier to experience this with the one i love the most.” kaveh leaned forward and gave you a deep, passionate kiss. he broke away after what seemed like forever, breathing heavily. “i want you now, [name].”

“then have me. who’s stopping you?”

“fuck, angel.. wan’ you so so bad.” his eyes shined with admiration, pride, desire, and lust as he pushed you onto your back, taking control of the situation once more. smiling as his hands slowly followed the outline of your hips, leaning in slowly his lips hovering just above yours. kaveh held this position for an agonizingly long time, both of you and kaveh’s skin barely inches away from touching as he continued to tease you. he was breathing heavily now, and the intensity of his gaze was almost enough to drive you on its own.

“getting straight into it huh, handsome?”

“‘course. i want to feel you around me already. you’re so warm..” his expression wasn’t hard to read, though the heat in his eyes spoke volumes. both of you were breathing heavy and shaky now. kaveh leaned forward, taking the first move once more as his lips latched onto yours, meeting them passionately, moving his tongue against yours as he pushed you down onto the soft mattress underneath. he pulled you in closer, running his hands along your back as he continued, his mouth slowly working its way down your neck teasing and tempting with every single kiss and touch. by the time his lips moved back up to yours, you had both lost yourselves in a haze of pleasure and desire. desire and need for one another

“wan’ to feel you already.” the architect spoke as he pulled back from your neck, a smile on his lips his eyes bright as he took in a slow, deep breath. every breath he took seemed to fill his chest with pride and satisfaction, and he continued to slowly work his way downwards and further along your body. “your body is absolutely divine, ‘s like an angel carved it” so cheesy.. you chuckled. he didn't need any more incentive, kaveh kept going slowly but steadily leaving a trail of kisses over your skin. he was making progress slowly but surely, taking his time to enjoy his work. the heat and intensity in his grasp was undeniable. kaveh smiled a little more. his eyes were half-lidded and they glowed with satisfaction. he started to kiss your lips again, his tongue gently exploring her mouth, desperate to taste you. he moved his hands down, his fingers running along your skin gently as he kept his hands on one of your pretty tits, squeezing and roughly handling it until a whimper left your lips through the kiss you shared

“why don't.. we just get into it? I can't spend all day looking at you without doing anything. you have no idea how much i want you.”

“then, go ahead. touch me, kaveh.” you grabbed his hand, guiding it to your neck. “touch me all you want.” you wrapped your legs around his waist. his fingers move up from your neck and to your chin, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

“touch you however I want, hm?” his heart fluttering, his eyes look deeply into your own. “if you want it so bad, then tell me what you want me to do to you, pretty.”

“ruin me, perhaps?“

his widened eyes move to yours, his breathing growing heavier and more ragged. that was the final straw, you asking him to ruin your pretty body tonight? he simply can't control himself now after that. “archons..”

“you want me to ruin you? fuck, then i will.”

[lizzie-is-here]

valentine’s day one shot

poppies and babies’ breath

bucky barnes x fem!reader

bucky really wants to ask you out. but he can’t even dance anymore, much less date.

Bucky Barnes was not very good at dating. At least, not anymore.

No, that skill belonged to Sergeant James Barnes, a dumb, 20-something that hadn’t been made into an assassin for 70 years.

For all of his skills, that one is failing. He can toss a knife like nobody’s business, lift 1000 lbs to impress you on a training day, and speak dozens of languages.

But he can’t figure out how to flirt with you. Don’t even start on asking you out.

It used to be so easy. Flash a smile and the dames would line up to go dancing with a man in uniform.

Bucky can’t really dance anymore. Or he doesn’t want to.

He’s considering all of this as he stands outside of a flower shop, peering in and probably freaking out the kid at the register.

“Uh, sir, there’s a sale on flowers for Valentine’s Day…” the boy says, muffled through the glass. Bucky nods, finally stepping inside.

There are paper hearts strung up around the shop, only reminding him of exactly why he’s here. He’s gonna do it today. He’s gonna ask you out.

Well, he’s also here because he lost a bet with Sam. But that’s not important.

Bucky’s a dark shadow wandering through the quaint aisles, out of place in the colorful array of flowers. He skips over the roses. Too cliche.

He considers daisies, lilies, sunflowers, and flowers he doesn’t even know the names of until he finally finds what he was looking for.

Poppies. Your favorite. Apparently because of some story with opium poppies, wallabies, and crop circles. He was too distracted staring at you to fully grasp the story.

Bucky carefully grabs a handful and starts toward the counter before realizing that the bundle of red in his hand looks pretty bland. So then he adds some small white flowers, a pretty wrapping paper, and calls it a day.

“Can you wrap this for me?” he asks, setting down the items. The kid stares blankly at his metal hand, but nods.

He can’t remember the last time he bought flowers. ‘44, maybe? For his ma? He never bought any of his dates flowers. Too pricey and too significant when the relationships never lasted long.

You, though. You were different. Maybe it was the way you never looked at him like the teen boy in front of him had, with apprehension and questions Bucky didn’t feel like answering. Or maybe the fact that his brain had been through the blender.

But he loves you. And that’s more than he can say for most of his past ventures. He wants to give everything to you while also being selfish enough to take everything you may give him.

Bucky considers that he maybe deserves to be a little selfish sometimes.

The kid finishes wrapping the bouquet and hands it over.

“$25,” he mumbles, still in awe of the war hero in front of him.

Bucky tosses a $50 on the counter. “Thanks, kid.”

———————————————————————

A knock on the door of your room in Stark Tower startles you from your haze.

You’re in a shirt and pajama shorts on your bed, desperately trying to find a show that isn’t about true love.

It all reminds you too much of your own loneliness. How bad you wanted to ask out your own crush but never quite got ballsy enough to do it.

Grumbling as you watch a pair of high school sweethearts reunite in the picturesque Hallmark town, you stand to open the door.

There you find Bucky. The very man you’re conflicted over. Holding a bouquet and in a red henley to match the poppies.

“Hey,” he greets, trying to avoid staring at your legs.

You smile. “Hi, Bucky.”

He holds up the flowers. “I- I wanted to get you something for Valentine’s Day, and also…” He goes beet-red and stares at the ceiling for a moment.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. You shake your head, waiting for him.

“Oof, okay. I wanted to know if you wanted to go out with me? Sometime? Whenever works for you is fine-“

You rest a hand on his arm that’s still cradling the bouquet. “I’m free tonight?”

Finally, a shy grin breaks out on his face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky swallows, gives you a very real, very swoon-worthy smile, and hands over the flowers.

“Well, doll, do you wanna go dancing?”

Because yeah. Maybe he can’t dance anymore. But he wants to try with you.

[lychniis]

― FERN AND MONKHOOD.

kaeya alberich x reader.

 “let me protect you / shelter.” + “beware, a deadly foe is near.” + reverse comfort.

WARNING(S) : contains mentions of blood, reader is a medic, kaeya is wounded, kaeya being smitten ( but it's low key ), reader being tired, that sort of shit.

#main masterlist | flos anthalogy masterlist

IT WAS THE STORM that brought Kaeya to you.

Kaeya, who was drenched in rainwater and mud, who leans against the doorframe with practiced breaths that slowly waned and grew weaker, who was dripping red on the wood floorboards of your home. The storm brought Kaeya home to you, wounded and pained and vulnerable and your hands are upon him in an instant with concern in your eyes and on your lips.

He leans his face into your shoulder. You can feel it, the strain on his body, on every muscle and the shaky rise and fall of his chest — you can feel his insistence on letting this stay an inconsequential encounter. “Think of it as a tryst, dear doctor.” he laughs when he is seated on your chair. He stains the cloth with his blood and you’re too busy and too worried to appreciate his joke.

Between the robotic haze and the familiarity of this routine ( he always has you patch him up; some of them easy enough and gifted a safe kiss in the end and some of them intensive enough for you to call upon the young deaconess to aid you through it ) you find yourself hunched over him, sewing his laceration with practiced ease. 

“How did this happen?” you despise how your voice shakes — with anger perhaps? Or was it your anxiety? Perhaps it was both, to have Kaeya be so foolhardy sometimes, to bear these wounds even when his job calls for it ( every knight sports their own scar; from training, from fighting. He was no exception ). You sound selfish, yes, for daring to let your mind wander to the darker parts of you where reason refuses to spread its roots. 

He was silent this time — and Kaeya loved to run his mouth, to tease away the heavy atmosphere. It’s uncomfortable, the quiet and you wanted to shout, to say something to pull off this unwanted blanket.

“Treasure hoarders.” His reply was short and you involuntarily flinched. It explains the stab wound. This was the workings of a human, after all, rather than the local monster. “I hope you don’t mind me barging in so impolitely…I’ll be off your skin soon after this.”

Your head snaps up and you feel everything; the incredulity, the annoyance, the exasperation, the worry and fear, your affection for this foolish, foolish man —

“Ah.”

— you may have tugged the bandages a bit too tight as a result. Kaeya covers up his wince with a weak chuckle, his delicate fingers ( they were worn down, scarred from training. But they were still pretty hands, suited for gifted artists or prodigious musicians ) curling around yours. 

“Absolutely not.” you snap and there is finality in the way you speak, and unmoving stubbornness in how you hold yourself. Kaeya blinks, then he frowns and he lets go of your hand ( and you know that he was not happy with this, happy with your refusal ). “You’re still wounded.” you continue, tying the bandage up while you set aside the bloodied rags and the needle and thread.

Kaeya fixes upon you that impassive blue stare.

“My, my you seem quite worried. It’s not that bad, you know.” he smiles. It’s an innocent gesture but it feels like ice, like the depths of winter; it feels cold and bleak and sullen and deceptively beautiful ( a reflex, you realize ). 

“Yes it is.” you breathe out. You stare at him, then at his bandaged stomach, your palm just hovering over it. Kaeya is still watching you, but his gaze softens, the ice melts and you feel your shoulders sag just a little when his brief annoyance fades to reserved acceptance.

“Why leave?”

“They will come after me.”

“Let them. I’ll just deal with it like I always do.” Your answer is blunt. Kaeya raises a brow. “Come on now…you can lay down on my bed. You look exhausted.” Helping him up, you ease his weight over your shoulder. His warmth engulfs you entirely but his hands are cold when you clasp them. You feel his exhale on your neck. 

“I can make you something hot to drink.” you offer.

“You spoil me, dear doctor.” he muses, letting you tug him along. Kaeya leans his head against your shoulder and you can hear the smile in his voice. In the background, the lightning crackles and the rain washes the dirt down. When Kaeya is laid on your bed, you see how he tilts his head just a bit to rest his cheek on the soft covers of your pillow and he whispers your name.

( Maybe, somewhere else in Teyvat, the weather is a bit more pleasant and a little less grim. But Kaeya crinkles the corner of his eye when you remove his eyepatch and stroke the scarred tissue. Your name is whispered again, you find yourself smiling and the rain and everything else but this very moment was forgotten. )

“I’d like a blanket though.” he says suddenly. 

“That’s it?” you ask carefully. Kaeya hums.

“And maybe you.” he adds with the slightest hint of a grin as he pats the empty space beside him. You laugh softly, and you feel a little less stress on your shoulders as you join him. His snark dissipates once his head is on your lap and he finds his comfort in your warmth, into something shyer, a little less sure. “Thank you.” was his exhausted response as the splendor continues to chip away against you.

“I’ll be right here.” you promise quietly, stroking his hair and his cheeks and everywhere else you knew he liked to be touched in these moments of soft intimacy. “If you ever need me.”

He shuts his eyes. There is a smile on his face and you think you could live a thousand more lives over and over just to see it again. The thunder rumbles once more and the rain pelts down harder. 

Then there was a knock on your door.

❪⠀🎬⠀❫ AINE SPEAKS ;;

requested by @voidlesslove!

nyehehehe yes i'm leaving it at that XD.

taglist — @x-zho, @dustofthedailylife, @deus-lapidis, @silentmoths, @nebulaera, @niverine, @aestellia.

AINE © 2022. do no plagiarize, repost or rework this piece.

[its-my-whump]

Whumptober 08

No. 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.”

Overcrowded ER | “It’s all for nothing.”

Hummingbird 08

(Turns out, I may have exaggerated, qhen I said, that everyday can stand for its own. I'm not so sure anymore, sorry.)

(Story starts here if you like) previous

...

An irregual, but still kind of constant beaping sound, like a child playing with a keyboard, pressing down just one key in an unsteady rhythym. Some obstacle in his face, over his mouth and nose.

Breaths came in puffs, it was hard. Mostly because every fibre of him felt like he had an all-body-workout, that lasted days. And his chest hurt even more. The firstly funny sound, got disturbingly louder and hectic, the more alert he got. His eyes moved behind closed lids and only slowly rearranged with the world, when he tried to open them. Everything was blurry, a big rim just in front came into focus. It was an oxygen mask, his tired mind reasoned. The unpleasant fleeling of being strung up was a distant memory, but the heavyness in his arms and legs was very present.

He was laying down. Soft sheets. The cuffs were gone. But he couldn't move, even if he wanted to. He was just exhausted and in pain. His head slowly moved. He was in a nice room. 'Hospital?' A silent question in his mind, yet he didn't know why he should be in one, despite, that he was feeling like crap.

That disturbing unsteady sound really annoyed him. Breathing was so hard, he just wanted one releaving deep breath. But he didn't even finish his attempt of a real inhale, when pain exploded inside his torso. That frantic beaping took up a notch and some shrill alarms screamed in his ears, as he closed his eyes to fight the urging pain. Sweat summond on his forehead, he couldn't slow the tiny desperated puffs. Panic flared up. Everything was too tight.

A steadying hand on his shoulder. "Shhh, hummingbird. Shhh, I got you." Warmth spreaded from his right arm through the IV, he hadn't even noticed. The cacophony of sounds slowed, went down, when blackness pulled him under again.

...

Next time he reached the surface, his hands jerked. The frantic beaping was back. But he was still caught in a haze. A warm presence took hold of his right hand, slightly squeezing. It was more a reflex, than a conscious reaction to squeeze back. It was grounding, it felt real in his fictional fog, he was floating in. That jumbling sound slowed, wasn't screaming at him this bad anymore. The mask in his face was gone, he realised, before he actually saw. An uncomfortable sensation inside his nose, it tickled. But the tickling was the best part, his body was experiencing right now. Everything was sour, his chest was the worst. A big palm brushed through his hair. He felt save. A lingering presence by his side. It was more a feeling, than really knowing, that someone was there, despite that hand holding his own. Words were hovering around him and some finally making sense. The voice, that was producing them was soft, steady, rhymic. It sounded like someone was reading a poem to him. But most of it got lost in translation.

"...

Let the worst parts only be a dream,

There's nothing I can do but scream.

I plea to make me whole, I may not again folder.

I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier."

Slowly Sam resurfaced and his eyes followed his command to open after a few fruitless attempts.

His hand was gently squeezed again. Glazy and tired eyes wandered towards where that voice came from.

"I'm sorry, my little hummingbird." A tired blink, Sam's vision came into focus only slowly.

"You should have told me, that you have a heart condition." The voice was sincier, there was regret dripping out of his words. Sam was confused, he blinked a few times, not understanding what had happened. His head shook on its own in a tiny tired motion.

"Wha... " His raspy voice craked. He swallowed painfully. "I don't." Only a slight whisper. He felt as weak, as he sounded.

"I'm afraid, you do."

That damn annyoing sound was apparently his heartbeat. It was unsteady, he could tell.

"Hospital?" His eyes searched the room, looked at all kind of equipment beside his bed. But the room was too fancy, not enough eggshell color, too warm and cosy.

The other one shook his head slightly, then locking with his tired eyes. "Couldn't bring you to an overcrouded ER, could I?" His voice was sincere, the words sounded like he actually was worried about Sam's heath, not the possiblity of being caught. "You a doc?"

Sam was uncomfortable, too tired to analyse whatever the man had said or indenteded to say, or how. There was only a slight nod to his last question, or so he believed to have seen under his half closed eyes.

Everything hurt, he tried to rearrange his position a bit. A new, sharp pain exploded inside his chest, spreading from the middle right back to his spin. A painful sound and a sharp inhale just happened on their own, making it even worse. A firm, but gentil hand pressed him down by his shoulder. Dots flickered in his vision. "I'm so sorry. I believe I cracked some of your ribs." The man was looking away, shamefully, until his eyes came back, looking down at Sam.

'Really? First he snatched him, bound him, drugged him, fucking electricuted him and NOW he was sorry, because he actually hurt him?' Sam was more than confused. His head was spinning, these thoughts bumping in, but he was too exhausted to acknowlege them. He was too weak, to get angry. And he really didn't understand, what was happening. The disturbing sound had slowed down again, while warmth spread throughout him.

TBC

Hummingbird masterlist

@whumptober-archive

[jotun-philosopher]

Good Omens is living rent-free in my brain...

...and the resulting scenarios floating around in there are pretty varied and won't stop coming, so I hope you like 'em, however improbable they may be!

I'm no great shakes at story-writing or anything, so I can't do much more than fling these ideas into the void, but if you want to use one or more as fanfic/fanart prompts, go right ahead! (and tag me on the result pls! I'd love to see it :D)

Second part here, third part here

Crowley finding Jemimah's pot tucked away carefully in a corner of the bookshop (maybe in the vicinity of Aziraphale's journals?) and getting all sentimental

Crowley getting a text alert on his phone, and when he opens it he gets pelted with origami nightingales folded from pages of notes in Aziraphale's hand -- attempts to figure out his feelings, erotic haiku, doodles of things he'd like to do with Crowley, sketches for possible engagement ring designs, vital information on the Second Coming copied from the hyper-confidential files; the sort of thing an angel undercover might need to hide from the Metatron in a hurry

Aziraphale having really, really bad PTSD after Apocalypse 2 gets resolved/prevented (and Crowley supporting him through it from his own experience of trauma recovery)

Aziraphale barely escaping Heaven with his life when he finally makes the choice to fully break away, and wandering in a haze until he comes across an empty playground and sits disconsolately on one of the swings, trying to figure out what the heck he's going to do now. Meanwhile, Crowley's out for an aimless midnight drive when he passes a playground and-- Hang on a minute! *brakes hard* Pale figure with mangled white wings, looks like they've been dragged backward through a hedge and beaten up? Is it...? Could it be...? Yes, it is! *gets out, goes over and sits on the swing next to his angel* They sit together in silence for a while, quietly reconnecting, and when the moment feels right, Crowley starts speaking to sympathise about how much the permanent loss of innocence really f***ing sucks, whether it happens a bit at a time or all at once

Nina and Muriel separately then jointly figuring out the shape of at least some of the machinations happening, then the rest of the Shopkeepers' Association also figuring out that Something Weird is going on that they want to help with if they can, and sending an envoy to Crowley (who seems to them to be best placed to explain things). He ends up calling an Extraordinary Meeting of the Shopkeepers' Association for the purpose of explaining the story from The Beginning -- involving, among other things, the similar awfulness of Heaven and Hell, a dramatic re-enactment of the whole Job business and at least 30 minutes without hesitation, deviation, repetition or pausing for breath on why he's head over hindquarters for his soft, fluffy angel who gave away his flaming sword <3

Aziraphale correctly and unhesitatingly pronouncing 'Llanfair­pwllgwyngyll­gogery­chwyrn­drobwll­llan­tysilio­gogo­goch' and Crowley reacting appropriately <3

Gabriel and Beelzebub deciding to come back to help prevent the Second Coming (to repay Aziraphale's kindness/compassion? to make amends for all the trouble they caused and 6000+ years of being really awful? the lack of hot chocolate on Alpha Centauri? something else entirely?)

edit to add a couple I just remembered:

Crowley saying in reaction to some discovery or other: "Rrrrrrrrr, I am gonna PAMPER that angel SO HARD when I get my hands on him!!" Aziraphale (chimes in flirtatiously): "Was that a threat or a promise? Either way, I look forward to it!" *waggles eyebrows* Crowley: *flustered snake noises*

Jesus himself offering to cater the Ineffables' wedding for free as thanks for the 'all-the-kingdoms' thing and the world-saving

[restless-rebels]

1. Number of stories posted to AO3 this year: 5

2. Word count posted for the year: 46,825

3. Fandoms I wrote for: One Direction

4. Pairings: Liam/Louis, Zayn/Harry, Zayn/Louis, Louis/Harry

5. Story with the most:

Kudos: all the small things

Bookmarks: all the small things

Comments: me and you is all I’ve ever know

the rest under the cut!

6. Work I’m most proud of (and why): this one is hard if I’m being honest. I think it’s a tie between All The Small Things and Me and You is All I’ve Ever Known. With ATST, it came so easily to me, and it was for my very first fest. It was the first story that I said, yea okay. It’s actually good. But with Me and You, I worked on it for over two years and when I finally finished it, it was the most accomplished I had felt in soooo long. I can’t choose between the two.

7. Work I’m least proud of (and why): I do love all of them honestly, but I think if I had to choose, it would be But I Know I’m Better With You. It was a last minute thing that I wrote in like two hours and it was more because I was going through some shit and needed to put my feelings into words and writing was the only way I could do that.

8. Share or describe a favorite review you received: Anything that was left on Me and You really. Every one was soooo fucking nice. Each and every one told me how much they cared and loved and related to the story and it warmed my heart.

9. A time when writing was really, really hard: Writing Storm Warning for sure! December is my hardest time in my personal life and I knew I wanted it to be incredible because it was a secret santa. If you can’t tell, I write rare pairs and Louis/Harry is so out of my realm and I switched prompts like 3 or 4 times trying to make it amazing

10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: As stated above, writing Louis/Harry is definitely not one I would have expected. Also anything with smut because I suck at it lol. Oh! And a genderswap, I did that too.

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing: This is from Me and You

Louis laughed lightly but stopped walking abruptly. Zayn had to catch himself before he fully ran into him and looked around. They were still a good five blocks before they reached either of their streets. “Why did you stop walking?”

Louis swallowed roughly and Zayn watched as he curled his fingers into a fist. “Because I had to think for a second.”

“And you couldn’t do that while we walked?” Zayn wondered, his brain slowly coming out of its cloudy haze.

“No. Because I needed to know if it was even a good idea,”

Zayn rolled his eyes and raised his arms and let them fall back beside his thighs. “If what was a good idea, Louis?”

Before Zayn had a chance to blink, a hand was gripping his waist, pulling him close. “Tell me if this is a bad idea.” Louis whispered, barely able to open his mouth enough that his lips weren’t already brushing Zayn’s. The black haired man let his eyes shut slowly, his eyelashes fanning his cheek bones.

When Zayn couldn’t think of any words, it seemed like Louis took the silence as a go ahead and closed his lips around Zayn’s, pressing back slowly until Zayn’s back hit a light pole. Zayn sighed and kissed back tentatively, the warmth drowning him. Louis’s hands wandered up Zayn’s sides, stopping on Zayn’s cheeks, holding him there and deepening the kiss. Eventually they had to come up for air, and leaned their foreheads together. 

They were silent as they breathed in the same air, both of their chests rising and falling rapidly.

“I love you. I still love you.” Louis whispered, his hands dropping back to Zayn’s sides. “I never stopped loving you.”

Zayn whimpered and bit his lip. He couldn’t do this, not with the fog of alcohol still muddling his thoughts, his emotions overwhelming his entire being.

“I- I can’t do this Lou. Not now. It was.. It was a bad idea.” He mumbled and quickly slipped out of Louis' grip and walked down the street, his hands back in his pockets and his head tucked low. He bit back the tears as Louis called his name from where he left him.

12. How did you grow as a writer this year: Believing in myself. Imposter syndrome kicks my ass, often, and I learned sometimes I need to take a step back.

13. How do you hope to grow next year: See above, but also, stopping with procrastination. I need to manage time better and not put things off until the very last minute,

14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): Honestly, I’m not good at making friends, even within the fandom, but there’s definitely a few! 

First is always @wabadabadaba She is forever my first internet best friend, she gets when I’m overwhelmed, she knows what I mean when I send 👉🏻👈🏻, and she never doubts my abilities, even when I do!

@imasmallbi even though we both suck at texting, she is my by best hype woman ever and she has set the bar so fucking high that I don’t know if I’ll ever find someone that can beat it.

And basically everyone within the @writerscornercafe, even though I’m not on too much, they are so supportive and excited for everything. Knowing there is a community that understands what I’m going through is so comforting and calming and I so appreciate it.

15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:  Um, not really. Writing I Know It’s Weird was a little odd because it was about sexual identity and I used some therapy conversations that I had myself. But other than that, no, nothing of my real life

16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: Just breathe and believe in it. Believe in yourself, in your ability to write a story that you believe in. Pick the silly prompts, pick the dramatic ones, pick whatever you want because at the end of the day, you have to be comfortable with what you want to put in the world

17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: I have been working on an ot5 a/b/o pack story and I really want to get it done next year!

18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read. Um like I said, i don’t have too many friends and idk who’s already done this, but anyone who hasn’t already, I’d love to read!

[caspercryptid]

viktor and jayce meet for the first time and the first words out of jayce's mouth are "marry me" you decide the rest

OKAY. drunk frat boy jayce. really, really drunk frat boy jayce. some implications of bad shit at college parties and hazing. I would like everyone assured that Viktor gets Jayce's drunk ass home alone (despite Jayce's best efforts) and there is no blurry consent. Enjoy!

___

Viktor likes his job.

Or, really, his volunteer position. If he’s being completely honest, he does it mostly because it keeps him in Heimerdinger’s good books, but well. First of all, that was an important place to remain. Second of all, it gave him an excuse to wander into the open frat parties he’d never have dared to show up to otherwise and harass upperclassmen. Occasionally, it meant he witnessed someone making a bad choice and got to interrupt them. Occasionally, it meant calling the police. Occasionally, it meant... this.

Viktor’s job was very simple. On the nights of the weekend, he went back and forth through frat houses, and made people drink water, checked if they had rides, made sure no one was having any medical emergencies. He usually only took one night a week, because his leg always smarted the next day, but he was never one to let that hold him back.

So. Water. Rides. Calling ambulances.

Fielding marriage proposals.

“I’m afraid I'm married to my work.” He very gently tells the boy half sprawled out backwards on the couch. “Will you sit up?”

“I don’t wanna.” He groans, stretching. His shirt rides up over absolutely perfect abs, and Viktor does his level best not to look down, but the image is burned into his peripheral vision.

“I’ll consider your marriage proposal if you sit up.” Viktor coaxes, and then has to choke down a laugh as the boy sits up, hurriedly, hair flopping. He really is pretty. Probably a new pledge, given how absolutely wasted he is, and the fact that he’s wearing a T-shirt that says bitch on it. Better than conventional hazing, Viktor supposed.

“Thank you,” Viktor tells him, leaning in a little to adjust his weight and snorting when the boy leans in close to him. He puts a hand firmly on his shoulder to push him back into the couch. “What’s your name?” he prompts.

“Jayce.”

“Alright, Jayce. Since you were so moved by my offer of water that you proposed, do you think you could make good on it by drinking some?”

“Your face.” Jayce says, tone informative.

“Is that an insult?” Viktor deadpans. “I like my face.”

“I like your face too.”

“Than– why have you mentioned it.”

Jayce opens his mouth, closes it again, looks confused. “What did you– say?”

“That since you were so moved by my offer of water–” Viktor starts to repeat, patient, but Jayce perks up, like a very content puppy.

“Your face moved me.” He says, like he’s just remembering. “Not the water. Your face. I like your moles. And your chin.”

Viktor blinks, a little surprised. “–thank you.” he says, and then shakes himself. “Water.” he says.

“What?”

Viktor lets out a breath and then just unscrews the lid on the bottle, and then holds it to Jayce’s lips.

“Slowly.” He says, gently, and very resolutely thinks about puppies and nothing inappropriate as Jayce’s lips part around the bottle. He really is pretty. A little dribbles down his chin, and Viktor carefully leans his cane on the couch and shifts his weight so he can gently catch Jayce’s chin and tip it up a little, feeling his sanity fracture a little as Jayce leans into the touch. He pulls the bottle back, and Jayce makes a little protesting noise, even as more water goes down his chin, and Viktor takes another deep breath, and thinks about– puppies.

That is not making him think less about Jayce.

Dammit.

Viktor makes a last minute decision and sets the bottle down in Jayce’s lap, ignoring the way he looks down at it like it’s a new and fascinating toy, and pulls out his phone, shooting off a quick Done for the night text to Heimerdinger and the little group chat of volunteers, and he adjusts to sit down next to Jayce.

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself while you sober up?” he prompts, because honestly, Jayce looks far too hapless to leave alone, especially with the way the frat brothers tended to kick around their pledges.

That was definitely the only reason.

As Jayce perks up, happy, Viktor realizes his lie isn’t even working on himself. Deep in his gut, he just really... wants to keep this boy company. And to make sure he’s okay. Because dammit, the eyes are getting to him.

It’s definitely just the eyes.

[the-devils-girl94]

Distracting Thoughts

Prompt: Stranded On A Boat

Characters: Beelzebub x Fem!MC

Content Warnings: Masturbation, MC has thalassophobia(a fear of the ocean and other large bodies of water), MC fantasizing about Beel, lots of smutty good times with Beel

(I like how there is a word for how I feel about large bodies of water. Did not expect it to be this long ass word though.)

Another fic for @voltage-vixen ‘s Summer of Smut challenge! Enjoy!

“How on Earth did I end up in this mess?”

A heavy sigh left your lips and you buried your face into your hands.

Right now, you were stuck in the middle of the sea on a boat that Lord Diavolo had outright purchased. Not everything was going so bad, but you wouldn’t be feeling so slighted if everything was going good either.

Oh no, no. It was simply terrible.

For one thing, while you weren’t in immediate danger, being stuck in the middle of the freaking ocean was downright terrifying! All you could think of was scary scenarios of you drowning in this never-ending sea. Like the boat could sink and you could drown, you could fall over the edge and drown, or you could fall over the edge and a nearby shark could see you as a tasty snack and that could be your end. Your mind just kept coming up with the most exaggerated and impossible one-in-a-million chance scenarios that really did no good for you.

You hated being anywhere near large bodies of water, but there was one thing that kept some of the thoughts at bay. And that was you weren’t entirely alone.

You sat on the back deck of the boat Diavolo had purchased, far away from either edge that you didn’t want to be near, and before you was the ever-so lively Demon Brothers of the House of Lamentation. In short, your lively roommates who just make everything so much better...sometimes. Lord Diavolo and Barbatos was there as well but they mostly kept to themselves with Diavolo mostly sunbathing.

Your mind felt more at ease with the guys around since you knew if any of the scenarios did happen, they would not hesitate to immediately step in to save you. Though you still hope it would never have to come to that in the first place. You felt most safe around Beelzebub, the sixth born. 

Your eyes caught him in the pool that was several feet away from you. He was joined by his twin and locked in a fierce game with the second and third born. Well, you say fierce but its clear that Beelzebub is the victor. Mammon and Leviathan were no match against Beel’s pure strength. And had Belphegor been with anyone else besides his twin, he definitely would not have stood a chance against a team up of his older brothers.

You weren’t too interested in their game play, however. Your eyes were trained on Beel. Even before this boat fiasco, your eyes have never strayed far away from the gluttonous demon. For a long time, you didn’t know if it was a crush or if you’re just naturally drawn to his sweet nature.

“Or maybe that chiseled body of his.”

The tips of your ears grew hot as the thought crept in, replacing your previous anxiety-ridden thoughts. Your mind soon became riddled with images of Beelzebub’s torso. Mostly of his glorious pecs and washboard abs because this demon was built like a freaking Greek God. God knew exactly what he was doing when he made him, but him being a demon made his appeal so much greater! It was, in every sense of the word, sinful.

You were brought back to reality when you heard a large splash and some yelling. You looked up in time to see Levi and Mammon getting flung out of the pool by Beel, all while Belphie napped out on a floating donut. The whole thing brought you to tears as you laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. Mammon had caught you laughing and scolded you.

“Hey, (Y/N)! Don’t laugh, it ain’t funny!,” he yelled, but you continued to chuckle. You felt a little bad, but it was so unexpected as Beel had grabbed them by their feet and literally threw them out.

“(Y/N) witnessed our defeat...how uber lame,” muttered Leviathan as he rubbed his now aching back.

Wiping away your tears, you let out an amused sigh and went off on your own to explore the boat. You were unaware of Beel calling after you as you walked away.

________________________________________________________________

You thought it would be a good idea to explore the boat since Lord Diavolo had bought it and anything he buys is always luxurious. And it was but...

As you wandered the halls, you suddenly understood what sailors meant by sea legs. Although the boat was mostly steady, there would be an occasional gentle rocking of the boat. And had it been anyone else, it would have been fine but no! It completely unsettled you and your thoughts once again became filled with disturbing scenarios of that all ended in you meeting your end in some extreme way or another.

“Oh why did I think it was okay to go off on my own?,” you thought.

Feeling sick to your stomach, you thought it best to just retire to your room and calm your incessant thoughts. You flopped onto your bed and buried your face into your pillow. You hope this day would end so you could finally get off this nightmare. You tried to refocus your mind on something else, because even with you running through every possibility of drowning in every way possible, you were aware that you were in safe hands. None of the brothers would ever let you meet such an end in this never-ending sea full of wonders and mysteries.

You thought back to earlier and found yourself thinking of Beel once more.

The images from earlier made you kick your legs as your face became hot and flushed. You groaned into your pillow with frustration.

“Fuuuuckkkk!,” you screamed internally, feeling slightly ashamed for thinking about Beelzebub in such a manner. But thinking of him did make the other thoughts fade away to the background. Plus you may have a crush on him, so..was it totally wrong to fantasize about him showing up to your room, body dripping with water and looking at you with lust filled eyes?

....Okay, hold up, that actually is kinda hot.

It was the most prevalent image in your head. It made you wonder if you would have the chance to actually have Beel in your room and let him take you. Or maybe have the courage to be that daring?

You felt a tingling sensation between your legs and rolled on your back, blushing. You dwelled on the thought a little more to the point that it became a fantasy. And you imagined Beelzebub crawling towards you on your bed until his face was a couple inches away from yours. His rough hands were on your thighs, lifting them up so your clothed sex could feel the hardness of his bulge clothed from the thin material of his swim shorts.

The heat within your core began to grow and before you knew it, you were already trying to calm the growing heat with your hand. You were craving for the imaginary touch that only existed in your mind. Rubbing against your clit, the fantasy progressed into Beel removing your clothes and pushing his shorts down to free his hardened member. You imagined him stroking his cock against your sensitive slit that was getting wetter and wetter in reality.

Your breathing became heavy and you brought up a free hand to go under your shirt and bra to twist at your nipples. The fantasy continued as you imagined Beel dipping his fingers inside of you, stretching out your pussy to prepare you for him.

Moans started to escape from your lips as your hands worked on your body to bring you the stimulation and release you desperately searched for. You weren’t aware of it but you were also moaning Beel’s name. Apparently you were being a bit loud, because you failed to hear the knocking at your door and the sound of it opening until...

“(Y/N).”

You snapped out of your fantasy-filled haze when you heard your name. Suffice to say, you were extremely embarrassed to find a blushing Beelzebub in your room, half-eaten snacks in his hands. You quickly covered yourself up with a shout, but it was much too late. You were sure that he had saw everything. He probably even heard you too.

“Waah! I’m so fucking embarrassed! Oh my God,” you cringed, trying so hard to fold in on yourself so you could disappear. 

“Ah, (Y/N)! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to barge in like that,” he apologized profusely. He saw your covers move a bit but no sign of you poking your head out. You whined as you stammered out, “It’s fine! I should have locked my door. I didn’t mean for you to see me...like that...so.”

Ahhh, if anything was more worse than drowning in an ocean where your body likely won’t be found, it was definitely having your crush walk in on you masturbating to him. Ok, maybe not that much worse but still! Tears began to well up in your eyes and you fully expected for Beelzebub to walk out as this situation must have been a bit awkward. But instead you felt your bed dip in a bit as another weight was added. A hand was placed on your back and started rubbing in circles. Your lip trembled as your tears fell, because WHY WAS HE SO FREAKING SWEET!? 

Yeah, you were definitely crushing on him. This is why he was the only one on the crush list.

Beelzebub could feel you trembling and his face was still red from walking in on you. Though if he had to admit it, seeing you like that really turned him on. And to hear you moan his name so wantonly was like music to his ears. But he still felt bad because it was your private time that he interrupted. All because he wanted to hang out with you since he wanted to do so earlier, but you didn’t hear him calling after you.

But now there was a massive elephant in the room and neither of you knew how to bring it up without it becoming more awkward. Or your in case more embarrassed.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes, Beel?”

“I’m still sorry for earlier. I wanted to hangout, but do...do you want me help you a bit?”

You shot up like a rocket and turned wide-eyed to face a startled Beelzebub, who was feeling a bit pervy for asking you that question. But to you, he didn’t need to feel like that because this was the moment you were thinking of earlier! You started to laugh at the irony, causing Beel to become confused which you noticed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m not laughing at you, Beel!,” you chuckled out. “It was just that earlier I was thinking of what would I do if I had you in my room all to myself.”

At that, the gentle giant smiled at you, understanding why you were laughing. He crawled towards you, his face a few inches from yours. You were smiling but your face grew warm.

“So is it a ‘yes’?,” he asked, though his lips were drawing in close to yours.

“Y-yes-mmph,” his lips had closed in on yours and you felt his hands come up to your shoulders. Sliding off the covers from your body, Beel gently laid you back on the bed. You wrapped your arms around him as he coaxed your mouth open with a bit of prodding from his tongue. You could taste the sweetness of the snacks he had earlier as your tongues became entangled. You gasped when he pulled away.

Beelzebub set his focus on leaving kisses on your neck, starting a trail. He got to your breasts and cupped them in his hands, firmly squeezing them. A squeal escaped from your lips when you felt his wet tongue teasing your nipple. He sucked it into his mouth, pulling before letting it go with a pop.

"Ahhaaa, Beel! Please," you pleaded as he devoured your chest. You couldn't take it with him pulling, twisting, and sucking on your sensitive nubs. Your hands had moved to his forearms and you held a firm grip on them as Beel sucked away.

With a final tug, he left your poor nipples alone, going back to his task of leaving butterfly kisses on your body. Your body trembled with ecstasy but soon jolted from a shock when you felt a wet appendage lapping at your swollen clit.

Once Beel had finished leaving you kisses, he came across your pussy, still wet and glistening from when you were masturbating to him. His eyes darkened as his mind drifted back to that scene of you pleasuring yourself, seeing your delectable juices dripping your core.

He just knew that he had to taste you. To devour such a pretty, pink platter that was meant for him to sample. As soon as his tongue made contact with your clit, he felt you jump but he continued to lap at it, enjoying the taste and fragrance you gave off. You squirmed and your pants started to fill the room. Your toes curled and your feet had a hard time not slipping off your sheets as you encouraged Beel to keep going.

His tongue parted your puffy, pussy lips and he noticed your legs trembling. So he hooked his hands underneath your knees, spreading them further to her better access. He let your legs rest on his shoulders, all the while keeping his mouth on you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," you chanted over and over as your back arched, wanting to rub your sex over his tongue. You could feel yourself coming undone and on the verge of cumming. Beel's member twitched against the thin fabric of his swim shorts as he could tell your release was imminent, but...

Reluctantly, he pulled away from your pussy. He really wanted you to release all your tasty juices over his cock. He wiped away the mix of his saliva and your own cream from his chin.

You groaned but it turned into a squeak when Beel crawled back on top of you. Your legs were still over his shoulders and so you felt your body being folded in half but it wasn't too uncomfortable. But it aroused you more as you could feel his bulge heavy against your sex. You wanted it inside, for it to stretch your walls as you take every inch Beel gave you. For you to cream all over it so you could lick it off him and he could do it all over again.

Beelzebub's lips pressed against yours and you wasted no time parting your lips so his tongue could share the taste of your pussy. You could feel Beel's hands fumbling to pull down his shorts to let his cock finally breath. His lips never left yours, even as he guided his cock to your hole. You had braced yourself but was pleasantly surprised when he sanked into you with ease, but it still raised a moan out of you as your wall stretched to accommodate him.

Beel broke the kiss to let out a hissing sound as your pussy took him in so smoothly. He could feel you clenching around him, wanting to greedily take in more. But he was fully seated inside you, his balls pressed firmly against the plumpness of your ass.

"Shit...(Y/N), you feel so fucking amazing," he said as he recaptured your lips with his and rocked his hips to get a little friction going. He pulled back until only half of his dick was inside and slammed back into you. He repeated the action a few more times, drawing out moans that ended up getting swallowed up by him.

You pulled away from the kiss to cry out freely as he set a hard, quick pace as his hips connected with yours repeatedly. The slapping sound of your skin colliding overcome the sounds of your moans and cries. Beel couldn't help but groan at the way your pussy tightened around him with every thrust. Your body trembled against his as the heat became overwhelming. Your hands scrambled to grip at something, changing from scratching at Beelzebub's back or balling up your sheets into your fist, as you feared that the pleasure was going to take you away.

The seams were tearing and Beel could feel you were close as your pussy convulsed around him. So he sat up, holding your legs up, and pounded away at you. Your moans turned to screams and chants of Beel's name as his cock wrecked you.

"Beeeeel! I'm cumming, cumming!," you screamed, but it didn't deter him even as your released overflowed on his cock. The consistent clenching of your pussy finally drove him over the edge and his seed coated the inside of your walls, a deep growl erupted from him as he pressed his cock deep inside you.

With the both of you spent for the moment, Beel slipped out of you and collapsed beside you. However, he wrapped his arms around you to bring you closer. You sighed contently, feeling very much satiated as well as Beelzebub.

You felt lips pressing against your forehead and giggled before giving Beel a chaste kiss on the lip.

"That was amazing," you smiled. You saw his cheeks redden and the hug tightens.

"I-I would like to do that again...maybe sometime," spoke the blushing giant as he looked into your eyes.

The tips of your ears turning red as you agreed.

You figured this boat nightmare wasn't too bad as you snuggled up to Beel's chest, wondering if you had the courage to say you like him.

You saved the thought for another day to ponder later.

[tartagilicious]

what they would do if they caught you crying ❄️ // xiao, kazuha, + diluc (established relationships version <3) cw: injuries

XIAO:

- all of the time, i see people frame xiao as this emotionally clueless person, but personally, i just don’t think that stereotype is true — even with his habit of being alone, he reads people. he has life experience. you might be a little more in trouble if you ask him for something like comfort, but, not understanding.

- of course, his brooding appearance doesn’t really elude to this at all. so, it’s understandable as to why you avoid him when you come back to wangshu inn one day, beaten and bruised beyond even your normal level

- you think it’ll only lead to an awkward conversation, when in reality, xiao can actually be quite helpful! i can see him being a ‘listen and help’ now and ‘ask questions’ later kind of person. it tends to be adorable to see how concerned he can actually get over you.

- tears are another question altogether, too. definitely something that deserves his attention, even if you try convincing him you’re alright.

-----

you let out a resigned pant as you shut the door behind you, at last back in your room at wangshu inn once again. or, at the very least, you hope it’s your room — your vision had gone blurry around halfway your trek up the stairs.

unsteady legs take you to the bathroom. you’re relieved to recognise the throwaway products you bring with you on your travels sitting on the sink. in your haze, you knock the foremost bottles to the floor as you stagger to open the cabinet below it, yet when you reach down for the first aid kid, you find yourself stuck.

something inside you breaks at that moment — whether exhaustion or pain had pushed you, there is a single moment wherein you feel nothing but every imperfection on your body. every cut stings, ever bruise tingles, each scrape and sore bone screams to you at once, calling tears to your eyes.

in the back corner of your mind, you think to imagine yourself: half bent in front of the counter, the arm that isn’t supporting you weak at your side. and, of course, the fat tears that run from your red-rimmed eyes, landing amongst the threads of the mat beneath your feet.

somewhere nearby, you hear hinges creak open. an alarmed whisper reaches you ear as someone helps you to the ground, moving your hair from your eyes. there’s a moment of tangible silence that passes between you as your gazes lock. his expression is unreadable as gentle fingers ghost over the bruise on your temple, each bloody imperfection blanketed under his concerned golden eyes.

the world swims around you, extremely unwelcoming in the way it envelops your body in sludge. regardless, you find yourself saying his name. mumbling it, you grasp his arm.

“xiao.” a pained breath leaves your lips as you shut your eyes. “it hurts."

your lips twist as another sob is torn from your throat.

he shushes you gently, a gloved finger coming up to catch the tears that fall over your cheeks. the words that leave his mouth are slightly stiff, as if being read from a script, but the worry in his voice is incessant. it drips into you from every word he speaks, in each kiss that is placed wantonly on your skin.

in every tear he wipes away, there is a silent promise to catch the next one, and the one after that, until he can finally help your pain to subside. he wants nothing more than to see you drifting off to sleep, each wound covered and treated. and no matter how long that takes, he will always be there to wipe your tears.

-----

KAZUHA:

- he himself is vulnerable to his own emotions, what with being subjected to nature, but also the contents of his past. he’s average in that regard — but, i imagine kazuha as being pretty empathetic.

- he knows how to comfort you and does so effortlessly, even if he may be panicking inside. of course, he hates seeing you cry, it’s only expectable for him to know how to comfort you, even if he may not know exactly what’s wrong

- we all have those days. he understands that. so, when you try to hide your sadness from him he will not ever berate you for it, nor will he take it personally. he will only make sure he’s there to help you through it.

-----

you know you’ve spent too much time away when you hear a knock on the bathroom door — three lone taps at the wood, kazuha’s silent and heartfelt signal to you. for a moment, you think to pretend you aren’t there, but he’d seen you enter. there’s no escaping it.

it may be a futile action, but you stand to see your reflection in the mirror anyway. with your eyes slightly swollen and cheeks still damp, all you can do is wipe any tears away and pray that kazuha chooses not to say anything.

slowly, you creak the door open, popping your head out from the crack.

“are you alright in th—“ he pauses. kazuha’s eyes take in your face with more ardor than usual, laced with a familiar unease that sinks to the pit of your stomach. of course, there’s no fooling him.

he puts a hand on the door, as if to gently manoeuvre his way into the bathroom with you — but instead, it rests next to yours, patient as he asks,

“did something happen?"

kazuha’s voice is a perfect melody, composed of the softest winds and crafted from the anemo archon's most beloved songs. it’s that same voice that reaches out to you in this moment, patiently beckoning for something greater than pain, something more atuned to the romantics he pursues. simply, he seeks to be the reason your sadness ceases.

“no, no—“ you try assuring him, a quick laugh leaving your mouth. but, even you are aware of the way you avoid his eyes. “nothing’s happening, it’s alright."

his gaze narrow slightly.

“come on.” kazuha’s hand slides down to take yours, and together, you back into the bathroom. the weight of his hand in yours is far from unfamiliar, but as he shuts the door once again, you have the sudden urge to pull away.

kazuha is not someone you are uncomfortable with, but the level of intimacy between the two of you has nothing to do with wanting to hide your weakest moments. for the first few minutes, you perceive the situation awkwardly. you don’t know quite where to look or what to say, even as tears begin to fill your eyes again.

“please,” he at last whispers to you, head bent down slightly to reach you at eye level. “tell me the reason for your tears."

your lips morph into a gradual frown before you meet his gaze.

damn him. i couldn't refuse.

you throw your arms around his neck, a quiet whine escaping your mouth as he catches you dutifully. kazuha’s hands are warm on your back as he holds you with care, handling you not as something that is broken, but something he’d do anything to keep together.

-----

DILUC:

- sputtering, awkward, foolish — these words can all be used to describe diluc when he’s crushing on someone. you’re definitely not exempted from that either lolol

- his care for you is obvious in the way his cheeks flush when kaeya teases him about you, or the look he gets in his eye when you’re talking to him about something you love. the ways he loves are also ever-present in the way he comforts you.

- he may not look it, but he treats emotions well. in even your most extreme cases, your sadness is his own

-----

he is the first to notice when you dip into the back of angel’s share, giving your blessings to one of your regular patrons with more speed than usual. while the hour does chime high, you normally work alongside him until the last customer leaves the building. your unfaltering persona can be excused with a bad day. but, to just take off so suddenly, it strikes him in the wrong way.

diluc's distress may very well be visible in the way customers began to limit their interactions with him, but he doesn’t mind. if anything, it gives his mind time to wander to you. at first, he resolves to wait for your return, but that hopeful process is crushed when ten minutes pass and you remain missing.

his eyes wander down the bar, briefly going over each of the faces seated. either tipsy or engrossed in conversation, diluc takes the opportunity to nudge charles — a silent warning as he goes off after you.

for a moment as he walks, he thinks of the concern that weighs heavy in his chest. the same concern had always previously been reserved for things such as his business, or the safety of mondstadt. but to feel the same emotion because of another is a completely different sensation. it’s in his nose, in the way he can’t quite figure out where to place his arms as he moves. it’s stifling in the way that nothing else can be, like breathing in hot air on a summer day.

when he reaches you, he opens the door carefully as not to disturb you. a distinct shyness bubbles in his chest at the thought of catching you doing something you shouldn’t be, but when he opens the door, all he sees is you standing there.

your back is to him, body completely still all for the slight way your shoulders shake.

he calls out your name.

you startle easily, arms suddenly moving up to cover your face. diluc’s stomach drops as he approaches you, stopping next to you in front of the counter you lean into. no words are exchanged for a few moments as you continue to cry despite your hands, tears slipping out from beneath your gentle touch and onto the wood below.

diluc places a heavy hand atop your head.

in reality, there’s just not that much more he will allow himself to do — he doesn’t trust himself to say the right thing, or to be the person you need to pull you back from the darkness. there are too many things hat must be plaguing you in this moment for such a thing to happen, and his chest constricts at the thought. in some way, you must be stumbling on your last legs, painfully aware of every nerve and tiny cut on your body; that much is evident in even just the slight shake of your shoulders.

but unbeknownst to him, every instant he stands by you is time you have to heal. over time, you begin to recognise the feel of the cold air biting at your skin, and the contrast of his warm hand over your head. there is nothing you need him to say, nothing you need him to do, he himself is all you will ever need.

[harveywritings92]

BNHA Scenario: You fall asleep in their room.

Hawks: You've known Keigo since he first started out as a hero and were living with after a villain attack left your apartment destroyed, which both awesome and devastating to you, awesome you get to see your best friend and crush on his off time! but devastating because he doesn't know you like him... and it hurts knowing that while you're here on the penthouse balcony eating take-out drinking canned wine, looking down at the streets below... Hawks is out on some fancy date with some fangirl, who he's never gonna call again!

A sigh left your mouth as you pulled away from the railing nearly stumbling backwards a bit! luckily the feather Hawks left in the penthouse (or as Kei lovingly called it the nest.) caught you and gently pushed you back on your feet and just kind of hovered close in case you fell over,

(Meanwhile... Keigo flinched feeling his feather impact with something, worried he to excuse himself from his date and call you! and got nervous when you didn't answer.)

Deciding to call it a night you tossed your can in the recycling bin and went to bathroom, not seeing your phone light up when Hawks called... afterwards you managed to stumble into your room and pass out on your "bed" not noticing the fact that that your full size mattress was suddenly a king size and your blankets and sheets weren't the normal purple flannel ones you usually snuggled into.

Keigo got home 15 minutes later...

"Y/n?...I'm back!" He called out looking around the living room trying to see if you were awake, no answers he locked the door and put his keys on the counter when he noticed, the empty cans on it he check the labels and realized they were wine and hard water... he let out a small whistle reading the labels some of these were hard core 17% alcohol!... *She didn't drink these by herself did she?* he went over toward the guest room but saw the door close and assumed you were sleeping...

Keigo then went to his room and got ready for bed, and froze when he sensed he wasn't alone, he looked over at his bed as saw a person laying there, the blond tensed up and kept his feathers train on them as he approached he lifted the blanket and... Keigo's feathers dropped when he saw you laying fast asleep in his bed... His mind kind of stalled to a screeching halt as he stared at you there curled up and vulnerable...

He should've woken you up... should've told you to go back to your room, but instead the avian man just finished getting ready for bed and settled down next you taking your serene features and playing with your [hl/hc] hair as one of his wings covered you protectively before drifting off to sleep.

The it was the crack of dawn you woke up with a bad hangover and confused your bed felt and smelled different... almost like, a large red wing lazily jutted over your body and rested next to your head, Your eyes widened hangover momentarily forgotten as you got a good look around and realized you weren't in your room! you felt an arm thrown over you waist turned to see Keigo sleeping, you swallowed and tried to slip away, while trying to think how your going apologize for this! only for the blond to hold on tighter and pulled you back towards him, you looked back and saw his gold eyes glaring at her half lidded with a clear message. "Go back to sleep." you blinked before laying back down and relaxed in Keigo's arms going back to sleep.

===============================

Dabi: You stupidly trusted Toga who was fooling around with her quirk and was disguised as a dude said she'd take you back to your room after you over did it at the bar, you were pretty plastered Kurogiri cut you off and told you to go to bed! Toga offered to help you out, cos Dabi your supposed partner was too busy flirting with some random chick; who had wandered in with her entourage, not uncommon as the league needed the money so occasionally, they'll open the bar to civilians though most of them were drugged by the end of the night and dropped at random spots so that can't tell people where they were. (but anywho)

Toga had said she'd take you back to your room and in your drunken haze, you foolishly trusted her as she led you way from the bar. and far away from a certain cremator, who didn't take your absence lightly... Toga's quirk had worn off by the time she dropped you off in Dabi's room and happily went back to her room, curious about how this was gonna play out tomorrow! Dabi was pissed when he approached your room he went to knock on your door, but paused. You weren't his girl... he can't tell you what to do nor who to screw! So then why hell did it feel like he was being cheated on? He growled and went to his room, where he was in for a shock when he found you passed in his bed!...

Dabi was so confused if you were here? then who th-..." Toga..." he hissed tired and annoyed the raven haired man walked over to his bed and glared down at you with mild interest, "I don't know what the hell you're doing to me N/n..." he huffed thinking back to the bar the rage he felt seeing what he thought was some fugly guy was dragging you off to bed with him. "I turned down... A blonde, bisexual, bridesmaid for you, that's like the unicorn of bar girls!" he mused playing with your bangs as he laid down next to you. "I've been doing that a lot lately..." he hummed voice getting huskier as sleep over took him...while holding onto you.

================================

Shigaraki: You been awake for three days straight, doing random missions for the league and were very disoriented you hadn't even realized you wandered into Shigaraki's room and settled down next to the gaming dust master, luckily your quirk cancels his out, So you weren’t a dust pile when he rolled over in his sleep and instinctively wrapped his arms around whatever was making him feel warm.

Two hours later

The last thing Tomura was expected when he woke up from his nap was him spooning a girl! He jolt out of bed shocked and looked around confused, what the hell were you doing in his room? why did you... his eyes widened when he realized it you weren't dead…how come you weren't a pile of dust?! he looked at his hand then back at you and brought a shaky hand to you cheek gently put all five fingers to you warm flesh.. nothing happened! He can touch you...

Shigaraki let a choked gasp as he laid back down next you to taking in your features, he's noticed you lot as you're always kind of pretty for an NPC and you liked videogames too! but other then that he was too shy to try and interact with you... other telling you where to go and what to do, least  now he had reason to start talking to you more.

He then noticed the bags under your eyes and how sickly you looked... Shigaraki's eyes narrowed as he wondered why that was? he got his answer when he heard two male voices talking down the hall. "Dammit Kurogiri put me on night patrol again!" one huffed as the other male snorted. "So what? just get Y/n to do it.. she's easy to screw over, just tell her you were given her job by mistake." the first asked is that worked, the second one confirmed it.

Tomura was getting angrier as they continued making fun of you! he got up careful not to wake you and opened the door and closed it, "Oh, hey boss!...what are you Ack!!!" there was struggle for a few seconds then Tomura's muffled talking and muffled. "Yes sir, I'm sorry sir!", then Shigaraki walked back in his room, leaving Guy 1 staring at the pile dust that used to be Guy 2. Shigaraki laid back down next you holding you hand.

================================

Bakugou: You went to bathroom and accidently wandered into his dorm and he hadn't even noticed you slip into bed next to him, until he woke up at around 3 am and felt arms around his waist, Katsuki was ready to blow a gasket. "WHO TH-" he choked up and blushed when he saw it was you...his crush, how the... what the hell are you doing in his bed?! how did you even get into his room?! His red eyes fixated on his door and saw it wasn't locked.

He must've forgot to lock it after he told Shitty-hair and Dunce-face to get lost! Well, it was too late now. you were here, and he wasn't gonna let you get in trouble over a mistake! and besides he kind of enjoying feeling you holding onto him like this... it was warm and kind of felt nice Katsuki felt himself relax and drifted of back to sleep.

Needless to say Aizawa was not a happy teacher when he found you sleeping in Bakugou's bed both teens didn't know what was coming as Aizawa slowly raised the bucket full of ice water over his head and... Outside birds flew away the sound of screaming and the deafening explosion that followed.

[weepinglevi]

summary: fem!reader and porco get it on in the bathroom. porco has his phone to document everything for colt, who is reader's boyfriend. all aged up to be 21+. warnings: 18+ minors dni. infidelity! semi-public sex, slight dacryphilia, heavy dirty talk, mirror sex, creampie - reader doesn't know he's filming at first but is okay with it. also poor colt :( word count: around 1.6k beta reader: the most wonderful @1252291 came through. love you to the moon and back. <3 A/N: contribution to my adult movie tropes collab! pock brainrot is strong with this one. i hope you enjoy and feedback is always greatly appreciated. take care and lots of love. xx

you know it’s wrong.

the moment he closes the door behind him and turns the key, you’re torn between wanting to push him away and pulling him in even closer. leaning against the cold porcelain of the sink, you take a shaky breath. outside, they’re playing music and you hear annie’s shrieking laugh.

outside is the party colt took you to. to meet his friends, as he had put it.

now you’re here, in a small bathroom at an unknown house, not with colt – but with porco galliard. heart beating heavy in your chest as he lets his eyes wander over your body, you feel small and pathetic. still, the longing that has brought you here is slowly catching fire, turning into lust.

he doesn’t say a word when he takes a step toward you, placing his hands on your hips and grabbing them tightly. his grip is sure to leave a bruise but with how he breathes against your ear, you don’t care anymore. “i-“

“shh, you’re gonna kill the mood,“ porco chuckles and dips his head down, driving the flat of his tongue against your collarbone before pulling away and blowing against it, causing you to shiver and the tiny hairs on your body to stand up in anticipation.

you know it’s wrong, know you shouldn’t allow him to hook his hands under your thighs and lift you up so you can sit on the edge of the sink – so why are you wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him in even closer than he already was?

“fuck, you’re needy, aren’t you,” he rests his forehead against yours, voice coming deep and stirring the heat in your belly, making you feel as if you’re about to implode, “he doesn’t know how to fuck you in the right way, huh?”

there’s no need for you to answer, no need to state the obvious, so you stretch your neck to close the small distance between his lips and yours, crashing against him. tasting the bitterness of the vodka he had just minutes ago, you close your eyes and let a whimper escape. he’s right.

he’s laughing against your lips now, knowing you agree with him.

“he shouldn’t have brought you here.” leaning back, his eyes seem to be darker than before and his pushed back hair is starting to come loose, “should’ve known i’d be all over his pretty little girlfriend.”

even though you hate yourself for it, you nod.

“that’s right,” he brings his hand up to your jaw, grazing his thumb against your lower lip and then pushing into your mouth, index and middle finger soon to follow, “make sure they’re nice and wet, we don’t have much time.”

he’s not nice and doting, not asking what you want like colt always does. he just takes with expectations – ones you are more than willing to meet. so you lock your eyes with his as you gag on his fingers alone, knowing to heed his warning; you try to soak them in your own drool.

when your eyes are brimming with tears, he pushes down even further, causing you to cough and the tears to flow over.

“crying, already?” he coos. “he must treat you like you’re made of glass, hm?”

leaving you gasping for air when he finally pulls out, he breaks free from the hold your legs had around his waist. there’s a short laugh leaving him when he’s giving you another once-over and then nods.

“stand up,” tugging at your dress, he seems impatient, “told you we don’t have a lot of time.”

as soon as you slide down, porco turns you around and presses you up against the sink, cold stone digging into your hips as he bends you forward. looking up, you see the reflection of yourself and him in the mirror in front of you. catching a glimpse of his smirk, you look back down.

as long as you’re not looking at him, you wouldn’t feel as bad and that’s why you train your gaze on how your hands are grabbing the edge of the sink.

his hands slip under your dress, he’s quick to pull your panties aside before gliding his thumb through your slick folds. “so wet already.”

one hand placed on your ass, thumb holding your underwear in place, he slides his fingers into you without any warning. your walls tighten around him instantly, causing you to bite down on your tongue to hold back the moan that otherwise would’ve filled the room.

“c’mon, tell me how good i feel,” his digits pumping in and out of your already throbbing cunt, obscene sounds bouncing off the tiled walls, “how much better i feel than he does.”

“some-” - trying to collect your thoughts while also fucking yourself onto porco’s fingers leaves you breathless, “someone’s gonna hear.”

all he does is laugh when he pulls out one final time and goes to circle your clit, leaving you to clench around nothing and bucking onto the ball of his thumb until he completely pulls away from you.

legs already shaking and head hanging low, you hear him unbuckling his belt and spit into the palm of his hand. the groan coming from him sends waves of heat up your spine and you try to brace yourself for what’s going to follow.

pulling your panties down and bunching up your dress in one hand, the thick head of porco’s dick is already pushing into of you, causing you to hold your breath because you know he isn’t planning on letting you adjust to his size.

and you were right. even with his fingers stretching you out, you’re struggling to fit him but he keeps on pressing into you, leaving you to suck in the air through gritted teeth.

“look at her,” you hear coming from behind, “how hard she tries.”

with your brain in a haze, you know you should wonder about what he’s saying but you don’t. you’re too concentrated on how good he feels inside of you. and how wrong at the same time, but this only makes your pulse quicken even more.

to know the others are in the room next door, having no clue about how you’re being spread open on porco’s dick, having no idea that you’re nothing but a cheating whore, has walls fluttering around his length.

and when he finally bottoms out, he starts pulling back out. at a mind numbingly slow pace, you feel him come to a halt before he leaves you feeling empty again.

“don’t stop,” being the only thing to leave your lips, “porco, i dare-“

“hear her begging?” he places his hand on your hip and pulls you back onto his dick, “i bet she never begs like this when you’re the one fucking her.”

driving his hips forward again, he hits the bundle of nerves inside of you that makes you forget about how you wanted to be quiet. the moan escaping your lips as he switches to a steady pace.

“oh, she sounds so sweet,” his laugh is breathless this time, “you never told me how good she sounds, colt.”

as soon as you hear the name of your boyfriend, you look into the mirror to see porco holding his phone in one hand, obviously filming himself thrusting into your cunt. stuttering in your movements, he lifts his gaze from his phone and smirks back at your reflection in the mirror.

“c’mon now, keep fucking yourself on my cock,” he reaches forward, wrapping his free hand around your throat, “be a good girl for me, and i might let you do it again.”

raising the phone, he now films your reflection.

and you know you shouldn’t look straight into the camera and push back onto porco. it’s too late now, you think, too late to go back so you might as well enjoy yourself.

“tell him how good i feel,” his words are coming slurry now.

and with his tight balls slapping against your clit, with him continuously hitting the right spot, you nod, “feels- feels so good.”

“that’s what i thought,” letting go of your throat, he quickened his pace, “little whore that you are- one dick isn’t enough for you, huh?”

his hand sliding down your side, he reaches in front of you to rub circles against your clit again. the sensation of watching him do that, hearing him moan as you clench your walls around his dick and at the thought of all of it being filmed for your boyfriend to watch has you losing your mind.

“you-“ you turn your head to him now, graze your lips against his jaw, “your dick is enough.”

“hear- hear that, colt,” he groans, “my-“

his hips stuttering against your ass, he places the phone on the counter in front of you, grabbing your hips instead.

seeing him losing his cool pushes you over the edge, slapping one hand over your mouth to muffle the sound of your moans as your whole body trembles, heat rushing over you with every thrust he makes.

porco shoves your hand away the moment he realizes you’re trying to stay quiet, “let him hear.”

and you do. you couldn’t care less at this point, so the breathed “you fuck me so good,” flows from your lips naturally.

his fingers dig into your soft skin as he pulls you down onto his dick and holds you there, pumping his hot load into you, his cock twitching inside of you as a low “fuuuck-“ leaves him.

you stay like this for only a few seconds, and then he reaches back for his phone, turning the camera to face him. he makes a peace-sign before bringing it back between the two of you, filming how he pulls out of your cunt.

“will you look at that,” he spreads your cheeks to allow a better view.

feeling his and your cum drip down your thighs, you shudder at the thought of what you’ve just done – and even more when you realize how badly you want to do it again.

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